#I may come back later and clean this one up

[keeryhours]

wildflower chapter two - eddie munson

Eddie Munson x Henderson! female reader

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Series Masterlist

Eddie Munson Masterlist

Summary:

Corroded Coffin performs their homecoming show in Hawkins, and mistakes are made.

Chapter Warnings:

Smut (18+), p in v, unprotected sex, drunk sex, underage drinking, secret baby

Word Count: 3.4k

A/N:

This next chapter was a long time coming, but I hope you guys enjoy!

—

The rest of the week was a blur. You hadn’t thought of Eddie this much in over a year, and having him thrown back into your consciousness was like opening an old wound. You tried your best to push it out of your mind and keep yourself busy with work and chasing after Asher, but it was fruitless.

Steve and Robin were at your apartment Thursday night, the usual hangout since the three of you shared the night off. Asher was fresh out of his bath, dressed in his pajamas and sitting on the floor showing off his toy trains to Robin, who, to her credit, showed equal enthusiasm even on the 50th time of seeing the same Thomas the Tank Engine.

Steve and Robin had come armed with movies - these weekly hangouts usually turned into movie nights, especially when something new came into Family Video that one of them snatched up. Not that you’d complain.

“Alright, Ash. Time for bed,” you said, although the nearly 2 year old paid you no mind as he picked up Percy, the green train.

“You heard her, buddy. Time for the trains to go back to the station,” Robin said, helping the toddler gather his toys.

Asher pouted, but he helped put the trains in his toy box anyway. Once the toys were cleaned up, you lifted him into your arms, heading into his bedroom. A fresh diaper and a kiss goodnight later, you turned the lights off and slowly closed the door behind you.

Back in the living room, you flopped down on the cheap couch with a deep sigh.

“What’s on your mind, Henderson?” Robin asked, still lounging on the carpet. “You’ve been in your head all week.”

Steve looked at her like she was dumb. “Corroded Coffin?”

Robin rolled her eyes at him. “Are you thinking about going?”

You sighed again, running a hand through your hair to push it out of your face. “I don’t know. I don’t know.”

Steve looked at you sympathetically. “You know…it might be good. You never got that closure. Even if you just want to go to throw a drink in his face.”

You bit back a grin at the idea. He deserved it, that was for sure. “I don’t know. Maybe.”

“Do you think you’re going to wonder what if for the rest of your life if you don’t go?”

Steve’s sudden sage words caught you off guard. You hated to admit he was right. After these two years of wondering what you had done wrong to deserve his abandonment, there were definitely still wounds deep inside that never had the chance to heal.

Maybe you did need to see him.

—

Saturday night, with Ash at your mom’s house, you stared at yourself in the mirror. You couldn’t believe that you’d let yourself be talked into this. Dressed in a short black skirt, tight top with a leather jacket over top, you felt like you were looking at your high school self again. Like nothing had ever changed. Like Eddie was going to walk up behind you at any moment and wrap his arms around your waist with a wink and a “Looking good, baby.”

“Ready to go?” Steve asked as you walked back out into your living room. Steve and Robin wouldn’t be blending into the crowd at The Hideout as well as you would, and the idea nearly made you laugh a little.

“I guess so,” you said. “I’m ready for a drink.”

The Hideout really wasn’t much different than you remembered, besides the fact that it was absolutely packed full with a huge line out the door. It was surreal to see so many people wearing Corroded Coffin merch, the crowd absolutely buzzing with excitement.

Inside, you pushed your way through to the bar, Steve and Robin following close behind. You may still be a few months away from 21, but you knew that wouldn’t matter.

“Hey, Chris,” you greeted the bartender with a smile. He hadn’t changed a bit in the past two years.

“Well! Long time no see,” Chris greeted, his face lighting up. He pushed three beers across the bar without having to be asked. “I should have known you’d be here to see your boy play.”

Your boy. You resisted a wince as you passed bottles to Steve and Robin and opened your own, taking a big swig. “Yeah, of course.”

The crowd was intense. It had been a long time since you’d been in this scene - hell, it had been a long time since your nights had been more exciting than an episode of Sesame Street. Visually you fit in, but you still found yourself standing off to the side with your friends rather than joining the crowd of fans.

You downed your beer in no time and ordered another. You were already multiple beers in before the opening act even came on.

“Are you okay?” Steve asked, eyeing you as you popped open your fourth beer. “We can leave if you don’t want to do this.”

You shook your head. You were already here, you were going to do this. “I’m good,” you assured him, waving him off. He still eyed you warily, but didn’t push it.

You barely paid any mind to the opening act. Sure, they were good, but you knew what you were waiting for. Your heart thundered wildly in your chest, although the nerves in your stomach were fading with every drink.

When the opening act left the stage, the change in atmosphere was palpable. The crowd began to chant and cheer, and then -

There they were.

Gareth walked out first, drumsticks in hand. You felt your breath catch in your throat - the memories came rushing back. The other guys followed behind, and then finally - Eddie.

Eddie sauntered out with a cocky grin and a hand up in a wave to the crowd, who were screaming so loud you thought your eardrums might burst. Your blood felt like ice, you didn’t think your heart could beat any harder without killing you. He looked like himself, but there was something obviously different. He wore a tight pair of ripped jeans on his long legs, a Metallica tee with the same leather jacket he always wore. You hated how familiar it felt. He carried himself with the confidence of a real rockstar. You supposed that’s what he was now.

He approached the microphone. “Hello, Hawkins,�� he drawled, and the cheers somehow grew even louder. A bra flew from the crowd and landed at his feet, and he reached down and picked it up with a chuckle, hanging it on the mic stand. You rolled your eyes.

“It’s good to be back in our hometown,” he continued, that grin still on his face. “You guys made us what we are. We owe it all to you. We couldn’t imagine ending the tour anywhere else.”

The crowd ate up every word. And Eddie looked like he reveled in the attention. He looked so natural on stage. He was living his dream, after all.

As Gareth hit his drum sticks together and the band started their first song, Eddie scanned the crowd. You had felt sure you, Steve, and Robin were far enough into the shadows on the sides that you’d be unnoticeable, but with that magnetism you two had always shared - Eddie’s eyes locked on yours.

He froze. The cocky facade dropped and his mouth parted in shock as you stared at each other. You felt dizzy all of a sudden, like you might pass out. Ever observant, Robin noticed immediately, eyes darting between you and Eddie. He nearly missed the opening line of the song before he jolted back to awareness.

“I need another drink,” you mumbled, pushing through the crowd and back to the bar.

You didn’t slow down on the drinks as the show went on. Eddie was taking shots onstage, like he needed to feel numb just as bad as you did. By the end of their set, Eddie was drunk, yet he still managed to perform perfectly.

“Thank you, Hawkins,” he slurred into the mic as the show ended. “Next round’s on us for everyone!”

That set the crowd even wilder than they had been. The band exited the stage, and you pushed back through the crowd to the bar again, stumbling in your boots as the room tilted around you. You heard Steve calling your name from somewhere behind you, but you lost your friends in the crowd in your pursuit of yet another drink.

“One more on my tab, Chris,” you slurred once you reached the bar.

“Add her whole tab to mine,” an uncomfortably familiar voice came from behind you. “And another round of shots for me and the boys.” You felt chills across your skin as Chris nodded and pushed you another drink before he poured the alcohol into four shot glasses.

You saw his ringed hand reach forward and grab one of the glasses. You slowly turned to meet his eyes as he downed the shot, shooting you a smirk as he smacked it back down on the bar top.

“Well,” he slurred, his eyes just as glassy as your own. “Hello again, beautiful.”

You were so drunk that you didn’t even remember how he hurt you. How he abandoned you. You just saw Eddie, and your heart reached for him through your chest just like it always did.

“Eddie,” you whispered, as if there was nothing else to say.

He kept smirking at you, his large hand landing on your upper back and then sliding down to rest on your hip. His eyes roamed over your outfit, drinking you in hungrily.

You didn’t mind.

“I’ve missed you,” he murmured, his hand squeezing your hip posessively and pulling you closer. Your head spun with the motion, and you weren’t sure if it was from the alcohol or from Eddie himself.

“I missed you too,” you admitted, both to him and to yourself.

“Want me to take you home?” he asked, leaning forward, his voice a purr in your ear. It sent goosebumps across your skin.

Even in your drunken haze, you knew you shouldn’t say yes. Eddie had done something truly shitty to you, and you had no intention of forgiving him that quickly, or maybe even at all. But he was just as intoxicating as the large amounts of alcohol in both of your systems, and you found yourself letting him lead you backstage and out the back door.

You were so drunk yourself that you hadn’t even thought about whether Eddie could even drive in his state, but he ushered you into the back of a car with a man already sitting in the driver’s seat before sliding in beside you. His hand rested on your thigh as you told the man the address of your apartment, rising higher and higher until it was teasing under the hem of your skirt.

He pulled you into him as the car started moving. Your lips found each other like they’d never been apart, and he kissed you hungrily, tasting like alcohol and cigarettes, but you didn’t care.

Neither you nor Eddie seemed to care a single bit that there was a stranger in the front seat as an audience to the two of you all over each other. Your apartment wasn’t far from the dive bar, and before you knew it you were stumbling out of the car hand in hand with Eddie, both of you giggling like it was 1985 again and you were just two kids in love.

It took you three attempts to unlock the front door of your apartment, your vision hazy and your brain even fuzzier from the feeling of Eddie’s hands all over you, pushing up your top right there in the hallway while he placed sloppy kisses against your neck and shoulders.

When the door finally opened, you barely had time to kick your boots off and drop your leather jacket before Eddie was pushing you up against the door, slamming it closed. You moaned against his lips as they devoured your own, his tongue exploring your mouth desperately. He pulled your top over your head and dropped it to the floor. Your lipstick was smeared across his face, and he wiped it off with the back of his hand.

“Look so fucking sexy,” Eddie mumbled as he moved in to attach his mouth to your neck, sucking love bites all across the skin. “I’ve thought about you every day.”

You didn’t have the brain power at the moment to process those words. The drinks had already taken all concepts of critical thought, but every moment of Eddie’s mouth and tongue against your neck drowned out coherent thought itself.

His hands lowered from your hips to the back of your bare thighs and he squeezed. You worked in tandem just like old times as you jumped up for him and he gripped your thighs as you wrapped your legs around his waist. You could feel how hard he was already through his jeans, pressed up against your core.

“Where’s your bedroom?” he asked breathlessly, moving back to your lips.

“Last door down the hall,” you mumbled back, and then you were pulled away from the door as he walked down the hall, carrying you like you weighed nothing. He was sloppy, still drunk and knocking into the table in the hall, sending a picture frame falling to the (thankfully carpeted) floor.

He pushed the door open to your bedroom, and seconds later you landed on your back on your soft mattress. Eddie’s eyes were completely glazed over with lust, locked on yours as he kicked his shoes off and started unbuckling his belt. You watched him with equal hunger as he undid his tight jeans and pushed them to the floor, his excitement obvious through the material of his boxers. He leaned over the bed and reached behind you to unzip your skirt, pulling it down your body and leaving you in your bra and panties.

You pushed the jacket off his shoulders and grabbed onto the hem of his t-shirt, pulling it over his head and tossing it. His body looked the way you remembered it, the familiar lines and curves coming back to you as you roamed your hands over his soft skin like second nature.

“Eddie,” you whined, pushing your hips up against his painfully hard erection. He hissed at the contact, his mouth trailing hot kisses down your neck and over your chest. He reached behind you and unclasped your bra, your nipples quickly pebbling in the cool air. His mouth moved to envelop one of your nipples, his hand attending to the other. He swirled his tongue around it, sucking on your tits as you arched beneath him.

It had been a while for you, honestly.

“Fuck, need you so bad,” he muttered. He sat up on his knees, eyes raking over your body for only a moment before he reached for the hem of your panties. He pulled them down your legs quickly, urgently pushing his boxers down. His hard cock sprang free, already leaking precum. He wrapped his hand around the base, squeezing, another hiss leaving his lips.

He grabbed the backs of your thighs again, spreading your legs and pushing them up towards your chest to take in the sight of your pussy, glistening and ready for him. He muttered another “Fuck,” under his breath.

He traced a finger through your folds, collecting your wetness on his finger and bringing it to his mouth. He moaned at the taste of you, just as sweet as he remembered.

He leaned back over your body, lining himself up at your entrance, not a single thought about protection going through either of your minds. He pushed in quickly, causing your back to arch and a gasp to fall from your lips, fingernails digging into Eddie’s shoulders as he stretched you intensely.

“Too big,” you managed to squeak out, which made Eddie chuckle against the skin of your neck.

“You can take it,” he assured you, starting up a slow pace, although it pained him to do so. “You always took it so well.”

It didn’t take long for your body to remember his. The pain faded into pure pleasure within the minute, and then you were moving your hips along with his thrusts. Eddie noticed and picked up the pace of his hips, giving up on being careful and fucking into you with reckless abandon.

High moans spilled from your lips, your eyes falling closed as the feeling of him enveloped you completely. You could think of nothing but the pleasure he was providing with every press of his cockhead against that bundle of nerves deep inside you. Even after all this time, he knew exactly how to fuck you.

Eddie’s own grunts and groans were unashamed as he rutted into you with no real rhythm, drunkenly chasing his own release inside you. Somehow through the drunk and lust filled haze, he had the thought to reach down and rub tight circles on your clit, building that tightening feeling in your belly faster and faster.

“G’na cum,” you whined, your pussy tightening around his cock enough to make him moan even louder as he started fucking you even faster.

“Yeah, princess, that’s it, cum on my cock, just like that,” he babbled encouragement, his own release approaching rapidly. “Fuck, yeah, all over my cock baby.”

Your orgasm crashed through you with the power of a fucking train, and your eyes rolled back, body trembling and pussy clenching around him over and over again as you chanted his name, sounding just like all his groupies at the concert.

That’s all Eddie needed to fall over the edge with a hissed “Shit, shit!” and a low groan against your neck as he spilled inside of you, filling you deeply with ropes of his cum.

Once you were both spent, Eddie pulled out of you, rolling off and collapsing on the bed next to you. You both caught your breath. You wondered if you should say something, but the pull of sleep in both of your drunken minds was too strong. It wasn’t long before you heard Eddie’s soft snores, before you were pulled under, too.

—

You were woken up by a pounding at your front door.

Still, your eyes opened slowly, adjusting to the light filtering through your bedroom windows through the pounding headache already plaguing you. Your heart stopped in your chest when you saw Eddie’s naked form still sleeping next to you.

Fuck, what did you do?

You jumped out of bed and pulled on a t-shirt and pair of sweatpants before walking into the living room before whoever was pounding on the door woke up your entire apartment complex.

You swung open the door, irritated, to find a panicked looking Steve standing there.

“Jesus Christ,” he said when you opened the door. “You just disappeared last night. I thought you got abducted or something.”

The guilt and emotions hit you as the full reality of what you’d done fell on your chest. “Steve…” you started, unsure how to even explain yourself.

“How did you even get home? You just went to the bar and-“ Steve stopped cold, wide eyes trained at something over your shoulder.

Despite the dread in your stomach, you slowly turned, seeing Eddie standing in the hallway behind you, looking sheepish and dressed back in his jeans with no shirt.

“Uh, hey,” he said, a hand running through his curls.

Steve slowly looked back at you. “What the fuck.”

You didn’t even know what to say as you looked between the boys. Eddie looked down at the picture frame on the floor that had been knocked down last night.

“Oh, shit,” he said, almost to himself. He leaned down and picked it up. “I, uh, might have knocked this over-“

He froze. And the second you realized what photo he was looking at, you did, too.

It was Asher. A recent portrait, The toddler sporting a huge gap-toothed grin, his big brown eyes and wild head of curls mirroring the man currently standing in your hallway.

Eddie stared at the photo, completely unmoving. You didn’t even think you were breathing at this point. You could feel Steve’s presence behind you, everyone frozen waiting for someone to make a move.

He finally looked up slowly, eyes meeting yours with questions swirling inside that you didn’t want to answer and he wasn’t sure he wanted the answers to.

Eddie said your name softly, fear lacing his voice. “What is this?”

tag list

three of you it wouldn’t let me tag, so if you requested to be on the list and you aren’t here that’s why! i’m sorry :(

@awkward00noodle @american-idiot-jpg @georgeweasleyslostearhq @fandom-princess-forevermore @emxxblog @hopesicle @hellv1ra @whimsiwitchy @avalon-wolf @kellsck @toomuchbucky @sashaphantomhive @losingmygrasponreality @the-disaster-in-waiting @eddiesgirl1944 @ashcal99

[carisc4pshaw]

Showers of Love

In which Spencer Reid comes home from work late after being away for 5 days and finds himself joining his girlfriend (female OC) in the shower the next morning.

word count: 1.7k

tags: shower sex, morning sex, smut, little fluff, smut&fluff, domestic fluff, love, oral sex, vaginal sex, PinV sex, home, showers, original character, original female character, bisexual female character, spencer reid/ fem!reader, bisexual spencer reid, spencer reid fluff, spencer reid smut, sub spencer reid, dom spencer reid, choking, rough sex, late night, working late, criminal minds

warning: little nipple play, oral sex (fem receiving), choking, unprotected PinV sex (I think that’s it)

notes: Also posted on Ao3 I hope you enjoy this however, it may not be the best as I haven’t written smut involving men for a couple of years.

—————————————————❤️‍🔥——————————————————

Spencer had gotten home from work after a case had run on longer than any of them would have liked, Sofia was pretty sure she heard him climbing into bed at 3:30 am so she took that as a chance to have a lay-in with him until 11 am the next morning before deciding it really was time to get up.

The blonde went into the bathroom twisting the shower on warm and stripping out of her clothes. She got into the shower and closed the door meaning she didn’t hear the knock coming from the door to the bathroom just a minute later.

The couple had been together a long time but Spencer wanted to be respectful by knocking first however he was sure on this occasion she wouldn’t mind the surprise I mean he had been away for almost 5 days after all.

He opened the door and took in her body, her head was tilted back under the shower head as the water ran down her slightly tanned skin. Spencer knew he wasn’t going to be able to enter the shower undetected so he knocked on the glass, her head quickly turned to him a shocked expression on her face before realising it was him.

“Are you okay?” Sofia asked him.

“Can I join? You look beautiful,” he said, his eyes trailing her long blonde hair cascading over her shoulders and breasts ending at the end of her ribs.

“Hm yes you can join,” She giggled pushing the glass door open for him.

He got rid of his clothes and entered the shower standing behind her wrapping his arms around her midsection and smelling the clean skin on her shoulder, “I missed you.”

“I missed you too,” She said twisting her head round to meet his lips in a very awkward angled kiss.

Spencer began leaving kisses at the side of her neck, sucking lightly leaving what would become faint marks on her skin.

“Mmm baby I’m trying to shower,” Sofia spoke pushing further back against him feeling his cock hardening against her ass.

“Sorry about that… but it has been well 5 days,” He rubbed the back of his neck swallowing nervously.

“It’s fine I like knowing I still turn you on.”

“You’ll always turn me on darling,” Spencer’s hands travelled to her breasts grabbing both of them in his hands, his thumbs rubbing her nipples.

“Oh baby, that feels so nice,” Sofia said under her breath.

“Did you miss having me here?” He asked running his hands from her breasts and down the sides of her waist.

“Mhm, you shouldn’t leave for work all the time.”

“I’ll suggest it to Hotch,” He turned her around so he was now facing her and left kisses on her chest and the top of her cleavage.

“Good plan,” Sofia reached one hand down wrapping it around his cock resulting in him moaning into her chest.

He pulled back and shook his head, “No, this is about you for now, hands off.”

She immediately obeyed him moving her hand before being pushed up against the wall of the shower.

Spencer kissed a trail down her body as he got onto his knees and began kissing her inner thighs.

Sofia reached down sliding her fingers into his damp curls her hand tightening in them when he ran his tongue up her slit.

The blonde let out a few sighs of pleasure as he gripped onto her thighs spreading them further apart.

Spencer angled his head to latch his lips onto her clit, sucking at it gently. He moved one hand from her thigh to grip onto her hip.

Sofia’s hands tightened in his hair as he ran his tongue in circles over her clit before running it down to her entrance and plunging it into her wasting no time to get it as deep as he could twisting it further inside.

The moans, sighs and the look of pleasure on Sofia’s face he was hearing and seeing had made him harder than he was before if it was even possible. He knew it took the blonde a little while to reach her first orgasm and at this point, he didn’t know if he would be able to wait that long.

Sofia’s eyes were closed and her mouth was parted open as strings of moans came out of her mouth that only got louder as he splayed his right hand over her lower stomach so his thumb could reach down to her clit rubbing it in firm fast circles. Maybe this wouldn’t take as long he thought.

“Oh my god, Spencer!” she shouted gripping his hair impossibly tight and pulling it so hard it was hurting but he would not say anything about it.

Sofia sighed heavily, one of her hands leaving his hair and slamming against the tiled wall and her legs threatening to close around his head as she climaxed, her juice spilling out onto his tongue.

Spencer removed his tongue from inside of her but kept his thumb lightly brushing against her clit while she came down from her orgasm.

He stopped his actions with his thumb when he heard her breathing slowing down and placed both his hands on her hips rubbing them comfortingly. He stayed on his knees and looked up at her, “Are you okay darling?”

The younger woman nodded her head ‘yes’ until her breath had returned to talk, “Yeah thank you, so good. God, you’re so good at that Spence.”

Spencer smiled, standing up from the floor and pressing his lips against her, it was a loving kiss made more passionate by her being able to taste herself on him.

He pulled back after a minute and ran a hand down her hair, “You’re gorgeous honey.”

“Do you want my help with this?” She reached down and took the length of his cock in her hand.

Spencer groaned at the touch, “Can you go again?”

“Yeah,” She nods, “Always.”

He kissed her lips once before roughly connecting his lips to her pulse point on her neck.

His hand moved from the side of her face to her collarbone rubbing his hand across it and down between her breasts.

“I don’t need any more teasing baby you’ve warmed me up enough,” she said pulling his head back up from her neck so their lips could join again.

“From the front or back?” Spencer asked.

“If I say back will you pull my hair?” Sofia smirked at him.

“No I don’t want to hurt you,” He pecked her lips.

Sofia rolled her eyes, “You choke me but you won’t pull my hair?”

“It’s different.”

“Fine, we will work on this, front then and choke me.”

“Okay,” Spencer waited for her to adjust her position for it to be easier for him to slip inside of her.

Spencer eased into her slowly, he was large and while they had done this many times he always wanted to be careful not to hurt her.

Adjusting to him didn’t take long due to her previous orgasm and already being used to his size.

“Move,” Sofia ordered with a moan.

Spencer complied pulling out a little and pushing back in earning a louder moan from his girlfriend.

“More please,” she breathed out wrapping her arms around his waist.

Spencer quickened his pace earning moans from him when he thrusted in and out of her.

Sofia's nails scraped down Spencer’s back while her eyes rolled in pleasure, “Oh fuck. Yes!” She said between moans.

He could feel himself getting closer to his climax as her walls tightened around his cock more with each thrust. Spencer moved his hand to her neck squeezing lightly against her pulse point.

“Keep going please,” Sofia begged

“I’m not stopping babe,” Spencer thrust at a different angle hitting a point inside her he hadn’t hit before.

That movement mixed with the choking sent her toppling over the edge for the second for the second time that evening.

He wasn’t far behind after seeing her orgasm washing over her face.

“I need to pull out baby,” he spoke rather softly, loosening the hand from around her neck.

Sofia groaned, “Why? You never usually do?”

“Are you sure you want me to?” Spencer grunts.

“Yeah,” She kissed his lips slowly running one of her hands down her chest.

With one more thrust Spencer finished inside of her, moaning into her mouth as they kissed.

He pulled away from her breathing heavily. His brown eyes met her blue ones just staring at her as he got his breath back.

“You okay honey?” Sofia giggled at his flushed cheeks and scattered breaths.

“Yes, more than okay. I’m going to pull out now.”

The blonde nodded but still let a small whiney moan out as she felt the loss of him from inside of her.

The sweet sound made Spencer’s heart beat a little faster than it already was from the physical activity they had just participated in. He took her face in his hands and smiled at her before placing a peck on her lip, “I love you,” he spoke between the kisses.

“I love you too Spence,” Sofia said stepping further under the water from the shower head.

“Can I wash your hair?” He asked moving closer to her again wrapping his arms around her from behind.

She leaned back into his touch so their bodies were pressed together, “Of course, you know I’ll never say no to that.”

Spencer took the shampoo bottle from the small shelf and squirted some into the palm of his hand. The smell of sex in the shower was quickly drowned out by the thick smell of Sofia’s lavender-scented oil that she’d mixed into her shampoo.

As he rubbed it into her hair he spent a fair amount of time massaging her scalp, “I love the smell of your shampoo.”

“You do?”

“Yeah, It makes me feel calm I miss smelling it when I’m away.”

“You’re so adorable, I’m giving you so many kisses when you’re finished washing my hair.”

“How about you do that after we put pyjamas on and get into bed to watch a movie?”

“Sounds like an excellent plan,” Sofia quickly turned around in his arms and pecked his lips despite the fact his hands were still threaded in her hair.

—————————————————————————————————————

[awkwardchick87]

Happy Birthday to Sanemi!! This is my first time writing for Sanemi and Tengen! I hope you all enjoy!

Arranged marriages were not uncommon in the Demon Slayer Corps. You and Sanemi have a hard time getting being intimate. Thankfully Tengen agrees to help out.

CW - Fem reader, fingering, blowjobs, threesome, oral (f and m receiving) Sanemi calls us a slut once. WC - 5.6K

Master Ubuyashiki had first brought it up with Sanemi, reminding him that his time as a Demon Slayer may be cut short with such a dangerous job, and he would not want to see the Shinazugawa bloodline end, even with the fact that there were two male heirs to the name. Sanemi reluctantly agreed, if only to please the master. He would take a wife, and eventually, only if you agreed, he told himself, would she bear some heirs for him. 

One calm winter morning, a kasugai crow arrived at your house, a small scroll attached to its leg with the word that Sanemi had chosen you to be his wife, and he would soon be there to discuss the details with your family. You were in disbelief. You had heard the silly whispers of the women and ignored them, the Wind Hashira, a man of such status, must have mistaken you for someone else. Everything seemed to move fast after the crow brought the news.

You, the daughter of a well off wisteria house, were well acquainted with Sanemi. His patrols brought him to your area often, and you had treated him a few times in your family's home. When he stayed with your family, you always treated him with kindness and whenever he departed, the women in your house whispered and giggled that he was always gentle with you. 

A few short months later, in a simple ceremony, you were wed. Quickly moving into the Shinazugawa estate on the Demon Slayer compound. Keeping mostly to yourself, you had agreed with Sanemi that only the fellow Hashira will know of the marriage, both of you favouring privacy. 

Your nights were spent in separate rooms, across the halls from each other. You helped patch up his wounds, learning some medical skills after growing up in a Wisteria house, and a few new things from Shinobu, the Insect Hashira. You prepared meals and teas for him and, rarely, any guests who happened to come by. Keeping the estate clean and tidy. Your life was simple and calm but lonely. You knew you were married for convenience, but you still found the Wind Hashira to be quite attractive. You’d have to be a fool not to appreciate him. His strength, will and determination on top of the muscles and scars that decorate his skin. 

When you had first arrived at his estate, you dressed plainly. Using your time to make sure the house was clean, tidy and organized. You had hoped he would bed you soon after your wedding, but he made no such move. Choosing to dress in some of the nicer kimonos, you tried to show off curves and as much skin as was acceptable without making yourself too obvious. You wanted him to come to you, not forcing yourself upon him. 

He would be lying if he denied seeing your attempts. Holding back, knowing he had almost next to no experience. He wasn’t a virgin by any means, he had taken part in the women in the Entertainment District before he became a Hashira, but it had been many years since, and he was a selfish man back then, seeking only his own pleasure, getting off only to ease his frustrations and to sleep. 

With you, he wanted to make it right. He wanted you to enjoy yourself. He had heard, from Tengen, how women enjoyed themselves. Overhearing him speak to Rengoku about how pleased his wives were and how much they enjoyed being with him. At the time, choking it up to tall tales from a half drunk man. A small inkling of a thought popped into his head before he shook it, he could ask Tengen to show him how to please you. No, that would be absurd. You would never agree to that. Not to mention, he would not want you to be seen like that with any other man. He may not have taken you yet, but you were his wife, meant for his eyes only. 

The idea mulled around in his head for a few weeks and he would push it out every time. After every meeting, when Tengen would start to talk like he had sexual prowess, the idea wormed its way back into Sanemis skull. Even if he wanted to ask Tengen for help, how could he? He couldn’t just bring it up with you either. It was such a deeply personal issue, he couldn’t help but blush at just the thought of it. 

Stepping through the gate of his estate, he spotted you sweeping off the step of the entryway. Nodding towards you before another blush crept up his face. You were wearing the dark green kimono he adored so much. He had never told you how it was his favourite, but his reaction spoke volumes. Stopping in his tracks, he desperately wanted the ask you about his idea, but he just could not get the words out, stepping back out through the gate of the estate, he called his crow, Sorai, summoning Tengen to his estate to speak before heading back on to the grounds to train. 

It did not take long for a reply. Sorai perched on Sanemi’s arm, informing him that Tengen will be at the estate later that evening. Tengen had only ever been to Sanemi’s estate a handful of times before. His curiosity had gotten the better of him this time. Although he knew about you, Tengen had yet to meet you. Sanemi walked into the house to let you know there would be a visitor later, finding you in the kitchen, a cup of matcha tea on the table while you mended one of his uniforms. “The Sound Hashira will be by later to discuss some things.” his voice was surprisingly soft, almost shy. 

Looking up from your stitching, you nodded, a small smile on your face, “Would you like me to prepare some tea and rice cakes?” Placing the uniform on the table to stand and smooth out your kimono down your legs where the fabric had wrinkled. 

Nodding curtly towards you, he answered, “Yes. Uzui will probably bring some sort of sake also.” he shook his head, “I am going to bath, you do not need to worry about mending my uniforms either. The Kakushi do that for us.” 

“I am your wife. I can mend your clothes. It keeps me busy.” looking up at him before he turned down the hall, you almost missed the red blush that spread across his face as he walked away, bringing the sleeve of your kimono up to cover your own smile. 

Placing a fresh yukata outside the bath for Sanemi, leaving for the kitchen to prepare the rice cakes. Placing the food on a tray in the small dining room. Waiting for him to leave the bath so you could also clean yourself for company. 

Darkness fell across the estate and you heard the telltale sound of footsteps across the gravel. Nervously biting your lip, you wondered what he would be like. The Hashira you had met so far were so different then what you had expected. Would he be cold but formal, like Obanai? Or outwardly friendly but distant like Shinobu? 

Wringing your hands together, you couldn’t help but nervously bite your lip in anticipation as Sanemi greeted him at the gate. He was tall. Taller than you thought for someone who was rumoured to be fast. He was also loud, not only in voice, but also appearance. His jewel adorned headband was interesting. You had heard from Sanemi, Tengen was a former shinobi, but if memory serves you right, shinobi were silent, calculating and not as flashy as this man seems to be. 

Handing a bottle of sake to Sanemi, Tengen made his way towards you, “This must be her! The woman we’ve all heard about but few have seen. Keeping her beauty hidden away from the rest of us, Shinazugawa?” 

You could not help but blush at his compliment, quickly tucking a small piece of hair behind your ear. Glancing over at Sanemi as you bow politely, you saw the corners of his mouth curl upwards, almost as if he was smiling at the compliment on your behalf.

Quickly ushering the men inside, Sanemi and Tengen settled at the table as you grabbed cups from the cupboard, placing them on the table so Tengen could pour the sake. Sipping yours, the men discussed hashira duties and demon sightings. Finding the conversation boring, you excused yourself to the kitchen to grab the tray of rice cakes. 

Walking up to the door, you could hear hurried and hushed whispers. “This is why I was so cautious about asking you about this. I did not want to be mocked, Uzui!” Your husbands voice was the quietest you had ever heard it. 

“So nothing? In the past few months? I have no idea how you have managed to keep your hands to yourself, Sanemi. Do you not know how to please women?”

A blush quickly spread across your face as you realized what they were talking about. Stepping closer to the door without opening it, you tilted your ear closer. 

“You are a fiend, Uzui. I am not an idiot. It has been far too long since..” Sanemi’s voice tapered off, too low for you to hear the rest, only catching snippets of what he was saying. “I am not sure i can…. I don’t want to disappoint..” 

“And you wanted what? My advice? I am happy to give it. Or perhaps a demonstration? I am well versed in how to please a woman” Tengen replied, as you heard Sanemi scoff. 

Leaning a little bit closer, the floor creaked under your foot, “It seems we have a little mouse listening in on our conversation, Sanemi.” You could not see it, but Tengen pointed from his ear to the door you were standing behind, “Come in, I can hear you on the other side of that.” Tengen called out to you. 

The blush dusting across your face was bright red as you slid the door open, “I am sorry. I didn’t mean to eavesdrop..” excuses spilled from your lips as you looked between the two men. Tengen had a cocky smile on his face and Sanemi’s blush rivaled your own. 

“No need. Sanemi was just telling me how he wished he hadn’t spent the past few months alone in his futon.” Tengen shrugged as Sanemi scoffed again, looking to the side to hide his blush. Tengen gestured to the table, watching you shuffle in and sit. 

Sanemi sat at one side of the table and Tengen at the other, you were on the third side, positioned between the two men. Placing the tray of rice cakes on the table, you picked up the cup of sake again, taking a sip as both men watched you. 

“So, I am curious, how do you feel about the past few months? It is very clear you are both very…” Tengen tapped his chin, as if deciding on the best word for the situation, “wound up.”

Placing the cup down, you folded your hands in your lap, shifting slightly as you glanced at Sanemi, his intense gaze not leaving your face as he waited for you to answer. “I am grateful to Sanemi for taking me as a wife.”

Tengen barked out a laugh, “That is not an answer. Are you worried you will upset him? I think he could use a good fuck to relax!”

Sanemis head whipped around to Tengen, his fist clenched on the table, “I can not believe I thought this was a good idea.” turning to you, he apologized, tilting his head down into a bow, “I am sorry. I didn't mean to offend you or make you uncomfortable.” 

“You haven’t.” you interrupted him, “I am not offended. I..” wringing your hands again, you looked down into your lap before taking a deep breath, “I am not opposed to sharing a futon with you, Sanemi.”

Tengen nodded, tipping his cup back and finishing the sake within it in a single gulp. “Sanemi, it sounds like your wife is looking for some attention from you. Shall we start the demonstration now?” 

Your eyes widened, “Wait.” you put your hands out in front of you, “Sanemi? Are you really ok with this?” 

The tips of his ears were bright red as he nodded. Leaning over and grabbing your wrist, pressing a small kiss to your pulse, “I am as long as you are also. I do not want to pressure you, but I was not lying. I have not been with a woman for a very very long time. I do not want to disappoint you.”

Tengen clapped his hands together, making you jump slightly as you both looked over at him, “Let me show you.” Tengen held his hand out for you, making sure you were comfortable and giving you one last out if you wanted to leave. 

Slipping your hand into his, he quickly wrapped his fingers around you, tugging you into his lap. You back flush against his chest as he wrapped his other hand around your waist. Fingers toying with the belt of your yukata, loosening it. “I will start off slow. Don’t worry, you’re safe here. If there is anything that makes you want to stop,” He looked up at Sanemi, addressing him also, “Tell me. I will stop, leave and we will never speak of it again.” Tengens hair brushed against your face as he leaned down, waiting for your reply. 

You nodded, looking up at Sanmei. 

“Agreed. Be gentle with her, Uzui.” Sanemis eyes never left yours, searching for any sign of discomfort or hesitation. FInding none, he nodded at Tengen. 

Large calloused hands slid down your thighs, smoothing the material of your yukata before moving under the fold in the fabric. Slowly pulling it apart as Tengen hooked his knees behind yours, stopping you from instinctively closing your legs. A small huff of a laugh brushed across your cheek as he looked down. Your yukata belt, loose enough for him to expose your thighs and as Tengen opened the clothing, you couldn’t help but squirm.

Sanemi licked his lips. He had been dreaming of seeing your skin for himself. Leaning forward his eyes flickered between your face and the apex of your thighs. The small peek of a wet spot on your undergarments was enough to make his cock twitch. 

Tengen chuckled behind you. “Look at your husband, he looks like he's ready to devour you.” 

Looking up at Sanemi, you blushed. His fists balled on the table as he leaned forwards, watching Tengen undress you. The yukata you were wearing was tugged from behind you and tossed to the side. 

Without thinking, you raised your arms to cover your chest. Tengen scoffed at you, “Don’t you dare. I think Sanemi has waited long enough to see your body.” pinning your wrists together with one of his hands and holding them against your stomach, while his other hand slid up your side, cupping the underside of your breast, lifting it slightly and letting it fall. Both men watching it bounce. 

Hearing Sanemi’s breath hitch, you looked up. His eyes were focused on your chest, watching Tengens fingers circle your nipple, his thumb and index finger pinching and pulling, making your nipple harden before moving to your other breast. 

Being watched so carefully by both men was intoxicating. Squirming in Tengens lap, you felt him stiffen, hooking his feet around your ankles, spreading your legs. Your undergarments doing little to hide the arousal that had soaked the material, plastering it to your cunt, leaving a visible outline, both men letting out a low moan at the sight. 

Reaching a hand down, Tengen gently ran his finger up the seam of your lips, feeling you twitch below him. Looking up at Sanemi, he nodded his head, gesturing for your husband to take a closer look. 

Sanemi slowly moved around the table, settling in front of you and Tengen, his eyes fixed on your pussy and Tengens fingers still slowly sliding up and down the soaked material. Quickly adjusting himself in his pants, he licked his lips again. “Get on with it.” His voice was low, almost demanding. 

“You can not rush things like this, Sanemi.” Tengen replied huskily. “Look at the way she's writhing under just my fingertips. You’d rush her pleasure just for your own satisfaction?” 

Sanemi sat back on his knees, shaking his head slightly. 

Hearing you moan, both men looked down at you. Almost panting, you looked between Tengen and Sanemi, “More..” you begged, trying to grind your pussy down against Tengens fingers. 

Tengen chucked behind you, he hooked his fingers into the side of your undergarments, pulling them to the side, finally revealing your slick folds. Sliding his fingers, splitting your folds, a low moan rumbled in his chest. Lifting his wet fingers to his mouth, tasting you. “Perfect.” 

Releasing your wrists, he holds your thighs open with one hand, using the other to tease the edges of your hole, wetness coating his fingertip as Sanemi watches. “If you want more, little one, ask your husband.” 

Sanemis eyes lock on yours, a blush across your cheek as you open your mouth to ask him.

“Do it. I want to see her come undone. When you’re done, I’l taste her for myself.” Sanemi answered before you could even ask. 

Tengen circled your entrance once more before slowly dipping a finger into your heat. His hand holding your thigh, digging into your skin to keep you still, “Shhh, it's ok. You’re doing so good. Its almost in.” 

Shifting in his lap, a needy moan left your lips. His fingers were much larger than your own. The stretch burned, but soon gave way to pleasure.

Stilling his finger inside you, he gave you a moment to adjust, “Good girl. Take all the time you need.” 

Feeling your pussy flutter as you moved your hips experimentally, he pulled his finger out slightly, only to push it back in. A soft squelching sound bounced off the walls. Both men watching the way your cunt gripped his finger. 

Tengens thumb brushed against your clit, making your hips jerk as you let out a loud moan. He chucked behind you, pulling his finger almost all the way out before setting a steady pace. Looking up at Sanemi, Tengen smirked to himself. Nudging Sanemi with his foot, Tengen nodded down at your pussy, encouraging him to use his hands on you. 

Sanemi reached forward, his fingertips barely brushing against your clit. Your hips jerked again and another whine rumbled in your chest. “Sanemi, please.” you begged. 

Moving closer, Sanemi spread your pussy lips, watching Tengens finger fuck you faster. Your wetness dripped down between his fingers and onto the floor. Sanemi lightly pinched your clit between his index finger and thumb. 

Your reaction was instant. Crying out, your pussy clamped down on Tengens finger as he pushed into you deeper, his palm resting against Sanemis hand as you twitched and writhed against his chest. Shutting your eyes as your climax washed over you, feeling white hot pleasure coursing through your body. Your own fingers and hands never felt this amazing. 

Pleasure was quickly becoming overstimulation as you pushed against both their hands, trying to get some relief. Feeling Tengens hard cock against your back as you looked down at the tent in Sanemis pants.

Tengen moaned low behind you, grinding slightly against your back as Sanemi watched him pull his fingers from your core. Wetness dripping down his fingers as he brought them to his lips, sucking them clean. 

Licking his lips, Sanemi swiped his own fingers through your folds, a weak moan left your lips as he gathered the wetness on them, bringing it to his lips, moaning at the taste of you on his tongue, making you blush. “Fuck. You taste perfect. I want more.” his hand gripping his cock through his pants as he leaned closer to your core.

Tengen raised his hand, “Wait. We should do this somewhere more comfortable. Where is your bedroom?” 

“We will use my room” Sanemi replied, wrapping his arms around you to carry you to his room. Dipping his head down, he pressed a small kiss to your temple. A simple sign of affection meant for only you to see. 

“You have separate rooms?” Tengen asked, following Sanemi down the hall.

“Yes. Not after tonight though.” kicking open the door, Sanemi layed you gently on the bed. The room was simple. A futon lay in the middle. A small closet left open, with spare blankets and a dresser. The smell of Sanemi was strong. Something woodsy mixed with wisteria flowers and a faint musk filled your nostrils. 

Your legs fell open instinctively. Both men watched as you gripped the futon, body begging for more. Sanemi laid on the futon between your thighs, adjusting his hard cock to lay flat against the futon, his shoulders spreading you open more as he leaned closer to your core. Hair tickling your thighs as his tongue darted out, licking a strip up your pussy, moaning again at the tangy taste. His hands reaching up to grip your hips and hold you in place as you tried to squirm and grind your core against him. His own hips grinding against the futon for a small fraction of relief. 

Tengen walked closer, kneeling beside the futon, “Good girl, I know she tastes perfect.” His hand coming down to cup your breasts again. One hand pinching and tugging on your nipple while the other cupped the tent in his pants. His hard cock straining against his pants. 

Sanemi nodded against your folds, his tongue circling your clit before dipping down and plunging into your hole. Your pussy twitching and tightening around the muscle.

Coming up for air for a moment, his chin glistening with your arousal, Tengen scoffed beside him. “Has she cum again yet? No? Then why are you stopping?” Grabbing the back of his hair, Tengen pushed Sanemis face back into your core. 

Sanemi tried to protest, pushing against Tengens hand, but as soon as you raised your hips to grind against his tongue, he buried his head deeper into your cunt, moaning loudly. Bringing his hand from your hip, he pushed two of his fingers into your hole, earning a whiney moan from you. 

Wrapping his lips around your clit, sucking lightly, he felt you clamp down on his fingers. Your hands coming down to tangle in his hair beside Tengens. He let himself get lost in the taste of you. He had never really cared about another person's pleasure before but he needed you to come undone for him, like he needed oxygen. 

Pushing his fingers deeper, he scissored them, spreading you wider and feeling around the inside of your pussy. His fingers grazed against a small spongy spot and he heard you cry out as Tengen cooed down at you both 

“Do that again” He loosened his grip on Sanemi, keeping his hand gently in Sanemi’s hair.  

Sanemi moved his fingers again, feeling for that spot again. Finding it, he brushed his fingers against it, not stopping. Feeling you tighten harder around his fingers, he could tell you were close. Flicking his tongue against your clit, he heard you cry out.

Tengens hand tightened in his hair again, and he was suddenly pulled out from between your thighs. Looking down at his fingers still buried inside you just in time to catch a small stream of clear liquid spurting out from between your legs as you twitched under him. Your moans and gasps barely reaching his ears. His chin dripping with your release.

Tengen finally let go of his hair, patting him on the shoulder, “What a perfect wife you’ve got.” he said, looking down at you, his eyes full of praise. 

Sanemi looked up at Tengen before looking down at you, pulling his fingers from your still twitching cunt, “How did you know that would happen?” 

“It doesn’t always happen, but its worth trying every time. Look at her. She looks satisfied.” Tengen gestured to you as both men looked down. 

Your skin had a thin sheen of sweat on it as you tried to catch your breath. Looking between both of them, your eyes glanced down at their cocks, tenting against the front of their pants. Sanemi blushed and looked away, his hand moving to adjust himself as Tengen proudly stroked himself through the material. 

Grabbing Sanemis hand, you stopped him, cupping his length through his pants, you could feel the weight of his cock. He was thick. Swallowing, and looking up at him, you whispered “I want to make my husband feel good too.” Eyes flickering to Tengen, “And you, for making me feel good too.” 

Sanemi groaned, leaning in as his hips ground against your hand, pushing his cock harder against your palm. Resting his forehead against yours, he looked into your eyes, “Are you sure? You feel what you do to me?” 

Nodding, you tilted your head, pressing a quick kiss on the corner of Sanemi’s lips, “I'm sure. I want to.” 

Wrapping his own hand around yours, he guides your hand, stroking his cock. “What about Uzui? You gonna make him feel good too?” Sanemi jerked his head towards Tengen, sitting beside you both, watching with a gleam in his eyes. 

Nodding, your hand still working Sanemi’s length, you turned slightly towards Tengen, sliding a hand up his thigh before he captured it with his own, bringing it to his lips and pressing a kiss to your wrist. 

“I don't need much, little one.” Tengen pulled you forwards, glancing towards Sanemi with a smirk on his face. “Just let me use that pretty mouth of yours.” 

Your core throbbed at his words. Watching him unbuckle the belt of his uniform with one hand while the other positioned you on to all fours in front of him. 

Understanding, Sanemi moved behind you, his own belt clinking and hitting the floor with a dull thud as he quickly kicked his pants off, 

Glancing behind you, the sight of Sanemi’s cock, thick with an angry red tip, had your core dripping. You had felt how thick he was, but seeing it was almost intimidating. “How.. how will it fit?” your voice was barely above a whisper. 

Tengen gripped your chin, turning you back to face him, “You’re more than capable of taking him. You’ll be a good girl for both of us, right?” 

Nodding eagerly, you looked down at Tengens cock, now freed from his uniform. His cock was not as thick as Sanemis, but longer. 

Feeling Sanemi shuffle closer, your core clenched. Gripping his cock, he stroked it a few times, a low groan in his throat as he swiped it through your folds, gathering your wetness on the tip before lining himself up with your entrance. 

Eyes shifting up to Tengen as he gripped the back of your neck, pulling you closer to his cock, tapping the tip of it on your lips. Pre-cum dripping on to your bottom lip as your tongue poked out, tasting him on your lips before opening your mouth and giving an experimental lick across the tip. 

Tilting his head back, Tengen growled, “You’re a fast learner.” before nodding at Sanemi. 

Pushing the tip of his cock into your dripping hole while you clamped down, you gasped. The stretch was almost too much as Sanemi pushed further into your core. “Oh fuck. You’re so tight. Even after cumming twice.. Fuck.” Sanemi leaned forward, chest along your back as he held back from thrusting into your cunt. Letting you adjust as he filled you. 

Looking down at you, Tengen tapped his cock against your lips again, “Stick your tongue out.” resting his cock on your tongue as soon as you pushed it past your lips. 

Sanemis hips met with the back of your thighs. Your legs shaking as he waited. His breath hitching as your pussy twitched around his length.

Looking up at Tengen, your eyes watered slightly. Wrapping your lips around the tip of his cock, sucking lightly as you watched his reaction. His low moan was enough encouragement for you to push your head further into his lap, taking him deeper. The feeling of both cocks throbbing spurred you on. 

Sanemi didn’t think watching you suck another man's dick would be as sexy as it is, his hands sliding up your ribs as he leaned down to whisper in your ear, “You’re doing so good my perfect little wife. You’re making Uzui feel good. Keep going.” 

Feeling your pussy twitch he pulled out slightly, pushing back in and grinding against your core before setting a slow pace. 

Eyes rolling back in your head, you swirled your tongue around Tengens cock. Taking him to the back of your throat before gagging.

Both men moaned loudly as you gagged, feeling you tighten at both ends. 

“Do that again.” Tengen tangled his hands into your hair, pushing you down onto his cock again. Feeling the tight ring of muscle at the back of your throat, making you gag louder. 

Sanemi thrust deeper, his hips moving faster, “She likes it. I can feel her getting wetter, fuck.” your slick matting his pubic hair at the base of his cock and dripping down his balls. A thick ring forming around the base as he fucked you harder. His hands tight around your ribs, holding you in place as he thrust harder into your cunt. 

Tengens hand loosened slightly, letting you take over as you brought a hand up to wrap around his cock, matching the pace as drool and precum drip down the sides of your mouth and chin. 

Tilting his head back, he lets out a low growl, “I wont last long.” he admits, “she deserves to cum one more time, don't you agree Sanemi?” 

Sanemi wraps a hand around your hips, his thumb finding your sticky clit quickly as he pinches it between his thumb and index finger, “My good little slut of a wife. Cum one more time for us. Show us how good we make you feel and we’ll fill you up.” 

Feeling you shudder and jerk under him, Tengen buries his hand in your hair again, thrusting his hips to meet your mouth as he cums down your throat. 

Sanemi feels your cunt flutter before clamping down on his cock. Your release rushing through you. Eyes snapping shut as you try and moan around Tengens cock, his seed hitting the back of your throat, filling your mouth. Swallowing everything you can before it drips down your throat. 

Tengen pulled his cock from your mouth. A string of drool and cum stretching between you both before snapping and falling to the floor. 

Throwing your head back, moaning loudly as Sanemi thrusts again and stills behind you, hips flush against the back of your thighs as he paints the inside of your pussy with thick cum. 

Tengen watches, leaning back, propped up on his hands as he tries to catch his breath. A smirk on his face as he watches you collapse on the floor. Your face pressed against the cool wood of the floor as you take deep breaths. 

Sanemi reluctantly pulls out of your pussy, using his hand to spread your cheeks and watch his seed seep out of your cunt and drip to the floor. His own breath coming in pants. 

“This was more than I was expecting when I invited you over to speak, Uzui.” Sanemi finally speaks. “Although, I do not regret it.” A rare smirk on his face as he leans back. 

Laughing, Tengen brings a hand up to cup your face, helping Sanemi roll you on to your side on the futon, “I am glad you thought to seek me out for advice. I would have hated to have missed this.. opportunity.” 

Sanemi grabbed a blanket from the closet, wrapping it around you, “My love, would you like some water? Something to eat?” he leaned down, whispering in your ear. “I will be right back with something to help clean you up. Uzui, stay a few more minutes? There are a few things we still need to speak about. Including buying your silence about all this.” 

Tengen shook his head, “No need to worry, Sanemi. My lips are sealed. Except to my wives. They will be disappointed they were not invited. Maybe next time?” 

Sanemis face flushed a deep red as he quickly turned to leave the room, grabbing a clean cloth and some water for you. “I do not think that is wise! I do not need the whole corp to hear about this!” he called down the hall as he stomped away.

Leaning over you, Tengen whispered low, so only you could hear him, “he really does love you. I shall not push my luck with his kindness today. I am only teasing him.” Tengen laughed low, “Take care of our Wind Hashira.” Leaning back again, Tengen caught the small smile on your face as Sanemi entered the room. Your eyes felt heavy with sleep as you felt Sanemi prop your head up, encouraging you to take a sip of water. 

Looking up at Sanemi before falling asleep, you could see the faintest smile on his face, whispering “I love you” before slipping into a deep sleep, wrapped in his futon while the two men looked on. 

Thank you @trxshpandax for beta reading as always! Thank you to @adornedwithlight for the banners! @pixelcafe-network

[furioushoneymaple]

"Small" Sonic Headcannons Part 2?(More Sonadow and what, Knuxouge too?)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Shadow: (talking/ranting with Sonic) "Well, with how long I was on the ARK and capsulated away for 50-some years, it feels like my body is still... adjusting."

Sonic: "Heheh, "adjusting" huh?"

Shadow has bad allergies, not often. But every once in a while he'll have a sneezing fit for a minute or two. And without fail, the start of the sneezing fit spooks Sonic/like a cat, he flinches at the first sound every time, without fail.

His allergies are bad during Autumn, not really during Spring or Summer. This is because on the ARK there was a small plant room/used for fresh air/gardening fresh plants and produce/this garden is his stash of coffee beans and his appreciation of lavender/but it was importantly for Maria and the rest of the people on the ARK who missed Earth. That plant room is either over-grown/full of coffee bean plants or lavender variants or it broke a part from the ARK and has been decaying/frozen in space/maybe separated as closed off from what's left habitable in the space station.

(I like to think that the plant room was forgotten about, only to be rediscovered as an over-grown plant room taking up a majority of sections, later found by Shadow and Sonic on their mission together, symbolizing Shadow's growth as a character, with the garden reflecting his life development)

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Eh, anyways. Knuckles is very aware of his knuckles, other times, he is not. But during times of protecting or taking care of others, that's where he's very cautious. Mainly he's more gentle when he's taking care of someone/either picking someone up/cleaning the wounds off/bandaging up someone's injury/he's as soft and careful as he can be. He learned this from his family. He holds a bunch of medical knowledge and recently, he also learned more skills and tricks on how to take care of someone through Amy and Tails.

Amy always finds new ways to help, so she does her best to make sure her friends (and herself) are able to keep fighting, while also healing properly. She does this out of the kindness of her own heart, but she also deals with feeling like she needs to be her best/useful/tough 24/7. This really burns her out, and she may keep her pain a secret from time to time, but Amy always strives to give love and kindness through her actions, talents and words.

For Tails, he's the one who was stuck helping Sonic with his injuries. So, he knows a few DIY procedures, probably too many DIY emergency, it's concerning really. Tails unfortunately has seen too many injuries, so he's sort of "used to it"/no, numb to it. So he also carries big baggage here and there. But he copes through jokes/humor/maybe dark humor, I mean, Sonic is a part of that influence whether subconsciously or not. And Tails is not soulless, he cares massively about his found family, and can be a worry-bird, and that worry is fuel for his tinkering and creations.

Overall, Knuckles, Amy, and Tails share skills and tricks between each other, and it all helps them grow, learn, and it also helps them heal/heal the baggage and internal self standards/trauma left inside that they have yet to discover for themselves.

*COUGH* back to Knuckles, and to summarize what I'm trying to say, is that Knuckles will be gentle handling others with care. So, with Rouge/if not them bantering over the Master Emerald, he still handles her with great care, he's very tender and soft when it comes to hanging out with Rouge or his friends. Maybe a knucklehead, but a knucklehead with a big heart.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Knuckles likes to be the small spoon while cuddling, he's not really a spoon, he just likes the comfort of being protected. Don't chu ever think after being a protector, that all he wants is to feel protected himself? And Rouge is the one that likes to hold him close/her wings are comforting, hugging, and snug. And as they share moments together, as time flies, as memories are made, so are lessons, so for Knuckles, he learns how to be more "greedy".

Rouge: "It’s called self-care hon, and making sure he's able to treat himself to something nice. He still cares about his responsibilities. But he learns to relax a little..."

While Rouge learns to let go.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

Rouge has a soft spot, but she keeps that somewhat hidden. She usually has her guard up (hence why she's the big spoon btw) as she always feels on edge or too stressed. She holds a lot of responsibility of her own, to her own. The stress of secret information, keeping secrets, going on top secret missions, and discovering grueling/fearful/challenging information all has its toll on her. Even if she just brushes it off, seen as calm, collected, and as a badass — still, Rouge has her hollow-hearted nights, her breakdowns, and her nightmares. It's rare but it's not like it doesn’t happen. But with the job, she keeps that minimal, the whole spiel about being able to separate her personal life with her job, she aces that, she tries for it to not get to her, and she does a thorough job for the work she does.

Rouge loves having her face held by Knuckles hands.

And Rouge very much cherishes her friends gifts, any gift really. She couldn't bare it if her gift ever got destroyed, but no one should ever hurt the gifts she cares about the most and that's people in her life.

Also Rouge has a vast spread of knowledge, especially when it comes to her treasures, to the history, the make, the material, it's use, its value, she knows basically everything if you ask her. Her knowledge also branches off into geology too, as she's used to sky, land, underground, and water missions. Maybe she does too much, who knows.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

(Ahh that's the end of this tangent so far and there's probably more headcannons eventually, but Thank Youuuuuu, peaceeeeeee)

[thebiggerbear]

i think i've seen this film before

Summary: When three certain little words escape him, you know them for what they are: a plea not to leave him alone with only his thoughts and whiskey for company. You've seen this song and dance before.

Warnngs: heavy angst, cheating/infidelity, light smut, dagger analogy (Idk if this is a thing but putting it here in case)

Word Count: 2202

Response to prompt from @me-writes-prompts

A/N: Yes, I'm still on writing hiatus but this came pouring out of me today from where I have no idea. Must be the holiday. I feel like this happened last year, too, with Something Real which was also a bucket of angst and heartbreak. So it definitely has to be the holiday then. All completely unbeta'd (and probably very messy quite truthfully, I'll have to come back and try to clean it up later tonight, there may be some switching around of tenses, sorry!). As an aside, I don't condone any form of cheating but this just came out as is and I was so relieved to be writing something, that I just kind of went with it. I was going to keep it as a blank character x reader but in the end, the muse overruled me and let a name slip of who it was imagined to be. She's a sneaky bitch who can't be trusted to keep anything resembling a secret, I swear.

You can also read on AO3

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“I love you.”

Those three little words, barely said in a whisper, make you freeze. After your heart starts beating again, after your brain has processed that yes, he really just said that, you continue slipping your shirt over your head. 

Once you pull your hair free from your neckline, you turn to where you left him moments earlier, sprawled out on his back on the bed, an arm behind his head with the mist of sweat drying on his skin, his hair a crime scene of damp wayward strands with your fingers having been the perpetrator. You find him watching you intently with those eyes that you swear can see down to the deepest parts of you zeroed in on your face, a faint trace of hope lining the irises you’ve so often found yourself lost in these past few months. You momentarily clench your jaw as you steel yourself to say what you need to. “You shouldn’t say that to me.”

Where you expected to see heartbreak or some vestiges of pain, you only saw determination, suddenly renewed. You then realize your mistake. You hadn’t said the one word he expected to hear, the one he needed to hear: No. So it doesn’t surprise you when you see the hope in his gaze flare brighter, perhaps believing he’s not alone in this after all. 

You watch as he moves aside the thin sheet covering the last traces of his modesty, fully revealing himself to you as he swings his legs over the side of the bed and stands. The irony of the action is not lost on you; he’s making himself vulnerable before you, letting you see every inch of him, even what’s beyond skin deep.

He is suddenly before you, this large man whose hulking stature had completely dwarfed you minutes ago as he had pushed your thighs back and pistoned in and out of you, groans escaping him as droplets of his sweat christened your bare skin repeatedly. And yet, despite the size of him, here he is, exposing himself in such a way that you feel like the tall one, even as you crane your neck to meet his intent gaze head on.

The tips of his fingers gently urge your chin up a little higher so he can see all of you, both of you laid bare to one another as his eyes swallow you whole. “Yes, I should,” he murmurs. “I love you.” You know what’s about to happen, especially as his eyelids lower slightly and he begins to dip his head. The insatiable monster inside you craves his lips on yours, his tongue tangling with yours in a tango that mimics the one your bodies just did, craves him, but you force yourself to pull away.

Ignoring the hurt lining his expression, you turn to look for your shoes that had been kicked off as you both stumbled into the room, glued to one another and tearing at each other’s clothes in your desperate need to have your skin meeting his. Once you spot them, you take a step in that direction when his hand on your elbow stops you.

“Baby,” he pleads. 

“Don’t,” you whisper, refusing to look at him like he’s begging you to.

When you attempt to move again, his hand releases you only for his arm to snake around your waist and prevent you from leaving. You’re not surprised when he pulls you closer and you can feel the scratchiness of his unshaven face against your neck as he burrows into you.

“I love you, Y/N,” he rasps into your ear. He’s begging again, though this time you know it’s more for you not to leave more than his insistence on your belief in his feelings for you. He doesn’t want you to leave him here, alone with only his thoughts to keep him company along with some top shelf whiskey the hotel staff stocks exclusively for him in the mini bar. 

It used to work, this heartfelt plea whispered against your skin, nuzzled against your cheek, pressed against your lips, until you gave in and let him lay you back down on the bed, giving yourself over to him completely for however long he wanted you. Now, though, you’ve grown stronger, smarter, and that’s why it’s easier than ever to push away from him and look him dead in the eye. “Then get a divorce.”

You see the expected pain magnify throughout his handsome face and you take the opportunity of his reaction to your response to finally move away and grab your shoes, slipping them on as quickly as possible. 

He quietly clears his throat before the familiar deep voice that has murmured the dirtiest and sweetest things you’ve ever heard into your ear tears through the quiet paper-thin hush of the room that usually exists once your frenzied lovemaking ceases. “Y/N, we’ve talked about this. You know I can’t—”

“Not my problem,” snaps out of you. You don’t even bother to roll your eyes anymore at the age-old response he gives you every time you dose both of you with reality like this. Except it is your problem, very much your problem. Hell, it became your problem the moment you allowed him into your apartment that one snowy night, fully knowing you were about to change your life forever and not necessarily for the better. When you finally found out how easily your scratches could be seen on his skin, how divine his lips tasted especially after they had drunk deeply from yours and your body still ricocheted with aftershocks from your orgasm, and how taut his back muscles became with every slow and hard thrust into you. When you found out how intoxicating the sounds of his groans in your ear were as he took pleasure in what your body offered his, how dry your mouth was afterwards from all of the loud panting you did as his mouth ghosted over yours while he repeatedly hit that one spot deep within you, and how tightly he held onto you once he came, unwilling to let you go until he had absolutely had to.

You tamp down the desire you feel unfurling underneath your skin at the memories of that night and grab your jacket and handbag from where you’d tossed them. You refuse to think any further about that night, about how he had begged you to let him in, his chest heaving and snowflakes rapidly melting in his short hair, his eyes darker than you’d ever seen them and glancing repeatedly at your lips. You absolutely don’t think about the way his mouth desperately claimed yours the moment you opened the door wider and he was on you, kicking the door shut behind him. Or about how only minutes later he had you backed up against the wall, your jeans and panties tossed away somewhere, and him on his knees with his head buried between your legs, making you grip his hair as you bit your lip so hard it bled. Or even about how you had clawed at the wall he had turned you to face as he pounded away at you, his hand turning your head so he could sloppily kiss you, grunting loudly into your ear with every thrust as the rough fabric of his coat sleeve rubbed against your neck. Or how the buckle of his open belt rattled with his movements, only to be rivaled by your own cries, both being surpassed by his loud drawn out roar of “Fuck!” as he buried himself to the hilt within you and burrowed his face into your neck. His hot and harsh breaths dampened your skin while you reached a hand up to run soothingly through his wet hair, struggling to regain the ability to breathe yourself. No, you weren't going to think about how he then moved you to your bedroom from where neither of you emerged until hours later in search of sustenance and electrolytes.

Instead of allowing yourself to get lost in the thoughts of that night, you take a small breath and start heading for the door.

“I love you, dammit.” He’s angry now, just as you knew he would be the closer you got to leaving, leaving him. “Doesn’t that count for anything?”

You stop and you hear him take a step closer. You don’t have to turn to look at him to know there is a cautious renewal of hope lighting his eyes. You had stopped after all. But you both have done this dance before and each time it ends the same way. 

“No, you don’t,” you answer him quietly, almost gently. Your aim is not to hurt him, never to hurt him. He’s been hurt enough and you will be damned if will be like her and add to his pain. But at the same time, you can’t lie nor will you continue to swallow any of his. So, like always, you spare him but not yourself. “You think you do, but you don’t. You don’t love me.”

“Yes, I do.” He’s closer now, his voice is cracking slightly…he’s a few moments away from coiling his arms around you like a snake and keeping you from walking out the door, again. 

And so you make it quick, you plunge the dagger of truth into your own chest and let the pain bloom within you, spreading quickly through your veins like wildfire. “You don’t because if you did, you wouldn’t keep me in a holding pattern like this.” You then force yourself to turn and face him, your eyes hard as diamonds and your face one of stone. “I’m purely a convenient fuck for you when you get lonely, or someone to call when it all becomes too much. This isn’t even an affair. I’m nothing more than a painkiller that comes with an orgasm or two. That’s it and you know it. So, no, you don’t love me, because if you did, you would never use me like this.”

As expected, his eyes widen and his jaw drops. You can see the protests building in his throat but you cut him off.

“And if I loved you, I wouldn’t let you continue to use me like this.” 

He stands there, staring at you, a small sadness growing in his deep gaze. This always happens. As much as you try to spare him and not bleed out your pain all over him, some tiny amount almost always splashes onto him. You can’t help that. One of you has to be the strong one and keep it real; it just happens to always be you.

So you don’t allow his crestfallen expression to get to you and you lift your chin slightly, rolling your shoulders back as you straighten your spine. “I’ll see you when I see you.” 

You spin on your heel and stride towards the door. When your fingers grab onto the door handle, you hear a broken plea of “Don’t leave…please.” You clench your jaw and force yourself to open the door, refusing to look back.

“Goodbye, Jensen.”

You walk across the threshold and pull the door closed behind you. You make your way to the elevators, unsurprised that he doesn’t quickly dress and run after you. He never has before; why would that change now? When the elevator dings and thankfully the car is empty, you step into it and hit the “close door” button. You wait and as expected, no calls of “Wait!” or chimes of your phone sound as the doors take their sweet time closing despite their directive. Once they’re shut, once there is no possibility of him seeing you or hearing you, you sink against the wall of the car and grasp at your chest, your breath loudly catching as the full weight of the pain you had denied yourself begins to flow through you anew. Tears mark your cheeks and you let out a sound akin to a strangled sob. 

Yes, you do love him and that is why you continue to let him use you in this way. That is why you opened the door that night and let him in, fully knowing what was going to happen. That is why you allowed him to take your friendship and mangle it into whatever dark and hopeless form it takes now. You fucking love him; of course you do.  In the same breath, though, you know he doesn’t love you and this last bit of pain is what finishes you as the elevator continues to descend: and he never will. You turn your body to face the corner and hold a hand over your mouth, beginning to cry outright. He will never love you the way you love him. No matter how many times you run to him when he calls, no matter how you let him take pleasure in you or comfort in your arms, no matter how many times you’ve begged him to end things with her and be with you instead…he will never love you. You loudly sob as the sharp tip of that truth dagger from before lodges itself into your heart, almost neatly fitting into the groove from all of the previous times. Your heartbreak is the only sound that echoes throughout the small space along with the glaring silence of your phone. And just like that, once again, the dance comes to its predictable end.

A/N: So yeah, sorry about that. As always, no disrespect is ever meant to Jensen, Danneel, or their family. I'm not suggesting or implying anything about either Jensen or Danneel, I just had him in my head while writing. Purely fictional.

dividers by @firefly-graphics

Jensen RPF: @ladykitana90; @lemonfreak97; @lacilou; @waynes-multiverse

Forever Taglist: @avada-kedavra-bitch-187; @rieleatiel; @hobby27; @impala67rollingthroughtown; @ladysparkles78

[mrgrimreaper1]

Dude, I ABSOLUTELY DESPISE HOW SONIC IS HANDLED IN IDW SO MUCHHHHHH, specially in the issue where he has that whole monologue about his "no killing rule" towards people and eggman, because it literally has no reason to be there, outside of just the writers having to push back the sentiment the fan base was having back then, that issue happened specifically at the peak of people having frustration and hatred towards heroes with no killing rules, saying that they're unnecessary and pointless because thousands die because their no killing rules, specially thanks to batman, which btw is extremely justified to not kill the joker, batman has made it extra clear where he draws the line, he doesn't kill, he doesn't feel good about it, he feels uncomfortable doing it and he views life as sacred, people should be angry at Gotham's law system who for some reason, refuse to kill them and just puts them in an asylum.

Going back to Sonic, sonic having this whole rant about not killing feels so out of character because, first of all: he's being extremely mean and passive aggressive to surge for literally no reason, putting her feelings and points against him aside and pretty much completely disassociating while the whole conversation goes down, she was literally trauma dumping on him, and instead of being a shoulder for her to cry on, he's just extremely sassy for no reason, complete opposite of what he was in secret rings and black knights. Second of all: Sonic is extremely out of character in that moment, that whole thing felt extremely pointless, he's way of thinking is a lot more simpler than whatever that whole speech was, sonic doesn't kill eggman because he would literally die of boredom without eggman there, he knows he can stop eggman, he knows eggman is not gonna end him the easy way out and therefore is completely fine with letting him live, because he's confident he can stop him everytime, and against popular belief, in universe eggman takes a lot longer to actually start a scheme that he was planning, it's very rare that eggman starts a plan right after one failed, which means they get a LOT of time to rest and enjoy peace before eggman's messes everything up. Which brings me to the third thing: that whole speech is so pointless; it felt like the writers we're rushing to come up with reason as to why sonic doesn't just end eggman, so they just wrote something on paper and they just let sonic angrily read the text with no regards to his own philosophies whatsoever, and it is so pointless and unnecessary that you could reach the same conclusion that the writers want without ANY OF IT, if it was up to me, I would either make Sonic avoid the question or give a bunch of non answers, specially because he's trying to get surge to be on his side, which essentially leads to surge not siding with sonic because none of the answers he gave to her satisfied her, or if you want one where it causes the most drama, just make surge not give away her whole backstory right away to sonic, leading him to be blunt and give her an answer she doesn't like, he explains to her that he doesn't kill eggman because it would kill him of boredom later on, which pisses her off and gets her to leave. Fourth thing: stop treating sonic like he views himself as a hero, sonic does NOT view himself like that, sonic views himself as just some dude who showed up one day and said "dude, this egg guy sucks, imma slap 'em" he literally says so in sa2, "what you see is what you get, just a guy that loves adventures." Everyone around sonic may view him as a hero, but he himself does NOT view himself like that, in SA1 he literally just left everyone to clean up the whole city while he slept through the whole rebuilding, and this might be the last thing rn, I might keep going at the morning.

funny it’s called for the forgotten ones yet color, the forgotten one, is just killed off

[generaltulip]

Day 2 - Worship / Betrayal

“The only heaven I’ll be sent to, is when I’m alone with you.” - Hozier

[hairmetal666]

Steve wins the bat plush at a fair when he's seven. He doesn't care about bats, but it's the prize for making all five baskets in the basketball game, so he gets the little bat. Its eyes are a little crooked and one wing is slightly smaller than the other, but it being lopsided sort of makes it cuter.

He and his dad, they're supposed to be going on rides now, but his dad's pager keeps going off. He puts Steve next to a funnel cake stand, tells him not to move, and goes in search of a pay phone. Fifteen minutes pass, and Steve is bored under the flashing lights and tinkling music. He wants to play not sit and wait.

Eventually, he drifts back towards the midway, watches the people rushing by, searches for a sign of his dad's return. His attention is caught by another boy at the basketball booth. He has to be about Steve's age, with a mop of dark curls on top of his head and a jean jacket that's slightly too big, sleeves flopping over his hands as he lines up his shots.

This boy, he's terrible at basketball. Every shot is too high or too short or goes wide, but he's trying. Even from this distance, Steve can see how hard he's trying. He uses up his five balls, fishes into his jacket pocket for more money, and gets five more.

He misses every shot. This time, when he goes back for more money, he comes up empty. Steve thinks he sees his lip shaking.

A man, one in a leather jacket and boots that Steve thinks look mean, comes up to the boy, drops a heavy hand on his shoulder. He's too far away to hear the conversation, assumes the boy asks to play again and the man's response is a shaken head and a tight smile. They walk away from the games, right towards Steve, who slinks back to the side of the midway, not wanting to be caught staring.

"What was it you wanted? That stupid bat? Just another piece of trash you wanna bring in my house." Steve hears as they pass.

The boy nods, but keeps his eyes down and to the side.

He feels bad then. Felt bad before, but now he looks at his own bat, at its funny eyes and poorly attached wings, and wishes he could hand it over to the boy who really wants it. Steve almost does, then, makes to go after them, but his dad appears, dropping a hand to Steve's shoulder and saying, "ready to hit those rides?" And he knows the opportunity is gone, knows his dad will say it's too soft, not what men do.

Steve manages to lose himself for a while in the swirling lights and funhouse music and carnival rides, forget about the little bat in his back pocket and the boy who wanted one so desperately. But then his dad's pager goes off some more, he goes back to the pay phone, and Steve ducks into the low brick building that houses the bathrooms.

His eyes immediately land on the same boy from the basketball game. His eyes are red, face damp, obviously from tears, and Steve just--

"Here." He shoves the bat into the boy's chest.

For a second, the brownest eyes Steve's ever seen widen at him, before narrowing in a harsh glare, the boy's teeth barred.

"Why?" He snarls.

Steve thinks he may regret every choice that led him to this but he says, he says, "Because I want you to have it."

The boy blinks a few times, hand reaching out to gently pinch the bat's smallest wing. "You sure?"

Steve nods and the bat is slowly withdrawn from his grasp.

"No takesies-backsies?"

"It's yours."

The boy looks at the bat in awe, and Steve says, "see? It already looks happier with you."

The boy's beaming smile is cut-off by a voice calling from the door, "you in there,? I ain't got time to be waiting for your boohooing."

"Coming!" The boy carefully tucks the bat into an inner pocket of his jacket. "Thank you," he whispers, eyes big and glistening and happy, before he disappears out the door.

---

13 years later, give or take a few months, and Steve stands in the cracked shell of a bisected trailer, rummaging through what remains of a life well-lived, searching for anything whole. He's already found a few undamaged mugs and clean hats, but this room--it took a lot of damage. The brunt of it, really. Some sick sort of joke, after everything.

It's mostly rubble in here, scraps of fabric; slivers of notebook paper, magazine, poster; crumbled shards of vinyl and cassette plastic. A few times he comes across the disembodied limb of one of those dnd figures, and something weird happens to his throat.

In the far corner there's half of a dresser collapsed into itself, and he shuffles through the debris to see what he can find. There's something, soft and black, just the edge of it, peaking out from under half of a drawer face. He pulls it out, careful as can be and it's--it's a plush bat. It's a little dirty, but unharmed, though its eyes are a little wonky, and one wing is smaller than the other.

He holds it and he stares and he has to brace himself against the wall. It can't be--it's not the same one--but he remembers those big brown eyes and the curls and--

"Harrington," a warm, rich voice calls from what's left of the hallway. "You get lost in there?"

Eddie shuffles in, slow, careful with his crutches. And it--it took so long, months and months of convalesce and physical therapy, still physical therapy, but he's here. He's alive. He's perfect. And the something blooming between them, it's not spoken yet, but it's there, growing, and now, now--

"Oh my god, you found Lilith! I thought she was toast."

"Lilith?" He's still cradling the little lopsided bat in his hands, but moves closer to hand it over to Eddie.

"Yes, Lilith." Eddie takes the bat, presses it to his chest. "The first boy I ever loved gave her to me."

His heart turns over in his chest and when he swallows his throat clicks. Eddie doesn't notice, he's smiling softly at the bat, at Lilith, but then, "why are you looking at me like that?"

"First boy you ever loved?" He says. He thinks he sounds normal.

Somehow, Eddie's smile grows even softer. "Yeah. Roan County Fair, years ago. Tried to win her, but--" he clicks his tongue--"never had great hand-eye coordination. And then this kid just gave her to me out of nowhere. I used to think I was going to marry him."

"And now?"

Eddie laughs. "I grew up, Steve."

And for a second, he doesn't know what to say, but then, "I was right then, huh? That she'd be happier with you."

He stares at Steve, those same big brown eyes, wide and glistening. "Steve that was--Steve?" Eddie presses a hand over his mouth, overcome, before launching himself into Steve's arms. The crutches clatter to the floor, but Steve has him, will always have him, no matter what.

"I can't believe you kept her," Steve whispers.

"God, I carry her everywhere. She's Corroded Coffin's mascot, and you--Steve, I can't believe that was you."

"Surprise," he bumps Eddie's forehead with his.

They hold each other in the center of the destruction, but none of that matters right now, not when it feels like every moment since they very first met as children was leading them to this.

From the other half of the trailer, they hear footsteps, chattering, Wayne and Robin and Dustin, but Steve wants this to last a little longer.

"So, marriage...that still off the table?"

Eddie laughs softly, nuzzles his face against Steve's neck. "Are you kidding, sweetheart? No way I'm letting you go."

[a-b-riddle]

Part 7

Can't stop thinking about how the 141 met reader

(she's a long one. not entirely happy with it either so may edit later)

No harm done yet.

You never saw Simon actually hurt anyone. Johnny and Kyle would share stories about poor recruits who fucked around and eventually found out that Simon had no issue beating them within an inch of their life.

You knew he had a reputation and, like the rest of them, had blood on his hands. But it never bothered you. Didn't make you think twice about loving him or seeing him as the protector he had always been to you. To be frank, you could never actually picture any of them being violent.

But his voice... Fuck. His voice. It fucking rattled you. You actually feared for those fucking idiots now. Sure, they deserved to have their asses kicked, but an ass-kicking was probably going to be a welcomed after thought to whatever Simon would do.

You rinsed off, not bothering to wash your hair, but needing to wash up before getting in the bed. Hoping the scalding hot water washed away the uneasiness on your skin that had began to settle into your bones.

Even feeling fresh and laying in clean sheets, you still found yourself tossing and turning wondering exactly what did Simon do?

Did he walk away? Realizing you weren't worth the trouble, did he just tell them to knock it off?

You had stupidly expected Simon to check in. To check if you made it home alright or at least to let you know he was okay. So you waited... And you waited. You had half a mind to call him yourself before remembering it wasn't your place anymore to care. You had cared enough for the five of you.

It was well past two in the morning before you finally called it a night.

The next morning, still nothing from Mr. Riley. Not a 'did you home alright?' or 'are you okay?' text. Nada. Zilch.

Whatever.

Fuck him.

You had to open up shop, but luckily your Saturday mornings were much more relaxed. The shop wouldn't be open until 10, so you had the time to sleep in and enjoy the morning.

By noon, Mere had sent you several texts reminding you that you had promised to go out. You had tried to dissuade her. The encounter with those men last night had brought back sour memories. One involving handsome men coming to your rescue when it was most certainly needed.

You had tried to bail. Giving her any excuse you could: Last night put you on edge. You no longer wanted to go out. After last weekend, you just needed some down time.

Eventually you had realized she was not taking no for an answer after she had shown up to your apartment, already ready for a night out.

"You're not wearing that, are you?" Mere asked. Mere was in her usual Saturday femme-fatal attire. The black leather pants that accentuated her curves and red corset paired well with her freshly box dyed color black hair.

She looked more like a dominatrix than someone who worked at an attorney's office. Even if both professions included bending someone over and fucking them for all their worth. You wondered who would charge more by the hour....

You had pulled out a off white lace square neck top and a pair of high waisted medium washed baggy jeans. A perfectly cute outfit for a night out. Which was your defense when she had suggested you needed to change.

Tab had arrived later than expected (something about a system being down at work), but made up for it by bringing a pre-game snack. Yes, you had officially reached the age where you no longer starved yourself hours before going out to get more drunk quicker and cheaper. No you had to eat carbs or else you wouldn't be able to leave your room the next day as you pathetically nurse a hangover.

Tab wore a denim skirt. If you could even call it that. It paired well with the white tank top that you could make out the shape of her nipple piercing.

But they looked hot. Really hot.

"This is a perfectly acceptable outfit."

"For a day at market, not for trying to get laid."

"I don't want to get laid." You said, rummaging through your closet, yet again. "Getting laid is what got me in this mess in the first place."

A little over two years ago

"Fuck him." Tabitha wrapped her arms around your shaking body as you continued to sob. "He was a prick who didn't fucking deserve you."

"He couldn't even get you to cum." Mere felt the need to remind you as if that would somehow lessen the blow of your heartbreaking into a million shards. The shrapnel feeling like it would kill you.

"I loved him," your voice is small. "I fucking loved him." You had been dating for almost three years. You had his grandmother's ring on your fucking hand for God's sake. "I'm so stupid."

"You are not stupid." Tabitha gave you a squeeze. "He was a liar and a fucking coward." Meredith rubbed her thumb on you bare leg, offering physical reassure. Letting you know even if she wasn't the hugger Tabs was, she was still here.

"You can't keep locked up in this apartment." She was unfortunately right. You had not only barricaded yourself in your apartment for two weeks, but you hadn't returned to your bedroom. The scene of the crime. "You need to get out."

"Yeah," Tabitha rubbed your arm as if trying to coax you out your metaphorical shell. "Get some fresh air. We can go grab a treat. Maybe go out for some coffee." It didn't surprise you that Tabitha was offering a treat to entice you to leaving your sanctuary.

"I was thinking going to a bar." It also didn't surprise you that Mere offered her way of coping. Getting so drunk that you forgot what you even sad about. Or going out and finding someone to fuck the sadness out of her.

"Because getting alcohol in her system in this state is just what she needs." Tabitha was the mom of the group whereas Mere was the fun drunk aunt. They balanced one another out.

"Actually," you said, giving a pathetic sniffle. "Going out would be nice." Getting away from the apartment is what you need. And going out would be the excuse you would need to get yourself all dolled up.

What you hadn't planned for was getting so pissed that you had manage to breakaway from your friends. Searching for them in teh crowd of people. Failing and when you pulled out your phone were met with a completely black screen.

Dead. Perfect.

The same moment you swore the night couldn't get any worse, it did.

He looked the same. Same as he been four months ago when he asked you to become his wife. Same as he had been two weeks ago when you had caught him fucking another girl. The girl he told you not to worry about. The girl he insisted was just one of the guys. A girl you had told him time and time again would fuck him the moment she had the chance.

It wasn't always great to be right.

When your eyes connected, your body had went into immediate flight mode. Every neuron in your body was shooting out signals of RUN RUN RUN RUN RUN. So that's exactly what you did.

You fucking bolted.

Or felt like you bolted. But you could only scurry so fast in chunky heels while simultaneously pulling down your skirt that had decided to ride up. Aching to show your ass for all of London to see.

You had made it a quarter of the way back to your apartment. Your feet aching. Toes pinched together from the strap digging into them.

"Baby, please!" You heard him before you felt his arm clamp down on your shoulder. Hard. When did his touch become something heavy? Something that practically burned you.

You turned. Eyes brimming with unshed tears as you hissed at him to leave you the fuck alone. The begging came, but you turned around. Determined to go home. He didn't deserve the chance to explain himself and he could most certainly shove his apology up his ass.

He wouldn't shut up. Insisting it was a mistake. A one time thing her fault. How she seduced him. As if he were the victim in all of this. You weren't buying it. Not for one moment. One doesn't accidentally invite some slut over and fall balls deep into her while they are in the same bed he shares with his fiancée.

It wasn't until you were in a more dimly lit area that he had gotten the nerve to grab you. His grip was firm on your arms as he held you in place. "Listen to me!" His voice was panicked.

The feeling of anger slowly began to dim as something else began to rise.

Fear.

You were afraid.

You were in a part of town not many people were out and about in at this time of night. No bystanders to really take note of the scene, or at least not any caring enough to stand by and watch; even for entertainment.

Your friends didn't know where you were at and you were tipsy. And alone.

"Cardan," you swallowed, trying to steady your voice. "Please let me go."

"Not until you talk to me," his fingers dug into you. "We can work this out, okay? It was one mistake." He tried to argue, his voice rising, soaked in desperation. "What's one mistake compared to three years?"

"Cardan," you tried to pull away, his grip only tightening. "You're hurting me." It came out as a pathetic whimper. You were so close to crying, too afraid to scream.

"Hey!" A voice barked from behind you. It caused your whole body to stiffen."Get your fucking hands off her. Someone noticed. Someone was here. Someone was here. Someone was here.

"We are having a conversation." Cardan's eyes left you, looking at whoever stood behind you.

"The lass said to leave her be." Another voice. Someone else. Two (three if you counted yourself, but in that moment you couldn't) people against one. There was no a possibility of you getting the fuck out of this situation.

Cardan stood firm. His eyes looking past you. A silent refusal to back down.

"Either you let her go," another voice. Another accent different that the first two. "Or we fucking make you."

"One against four. Odds aren't in your favor, mate." Four. Four men stood behind you. Faceless strangers there to help you.

"This doesn't concern you." Cardan bit out.

"Aye," Scottish. The second guy was definitely Scottish. "I think it does if she's tellin' ye' to piss off and yer bein' a bawbag about it."

"So what'll it be?" The third voice, deep and threatening, yet still so... calming. As if the vibrations from his deep, rich pitch washed over you.

Cardan looked back at you, his eyes not as manic. He realized he didn't have a chance. This was a fight he had to walk away from or else he wouldn't be walking away from it at all. "I'll swing by tomorrow, okay?" He asked.

You couldn't do anything, but nod. Agree that you could talk tomorrow in the safety of the sunlight. Eventually he walked across the street before fading out into the night. Blending in with the shadows.

You turned around to meet your would-be saviors.

Four men. All slightly older than you and so handsome you felt foolish for gawking at them as if this were your first time seeing a man. Hell, maybe it was. At least specimens like this. All of them tall and broad. Towering over you.

No wonder Cardan got the fuck out of there. Tabs was right. He was a coward.

"You alright?" The one who first spoke up asked. You could place his voice. Now just needed to place the other three. He had a hearty mustache and mutton chops. A look on any one else would make you immediately get the ick. But for a moment you wondered if that mustache would tickle... "Do you need us to call anyone?"

You felt your cheeks flush with heat.

"I just want to go home." You said. "Thank you for stepping in. I don't know what would have-" You stopped. Too afraid to think about the possibilities. There was a time you would never believe that Cardan had the ability to hurt you.

There was also a time you believed he would never cheat. You weren't really sure what to believe anymore. "Anyway," you continued. "Thank you again." You turned on your heel before continuing your stride.

You had only made it several feet before you were stopped again. "Which way? One of us can walk you home." You weren't entirely sure. But with a dead cellphone and a unhinged ex probably lurking in the shadows, there was little time to weigh the pros and cons before giving them a general direction of where you lived.

Which just so happened to be the direction in which two of the four lived. The Scot and one of the two who had yet to speak. The first one, who had still yet to introduce himself instructed the two of them to drop you off and let him know you had made it home alright.

You had hoped that the rest of your night would be met with silence, but the Scot couldn't seem to help himself. "I'm Johnny." He introduced. "And the spooky, silent type is Simon." He gave a playful wink. You gave him your name, not wanting to be rude.

"Not my place to ask," he began. "But what was the deal with that fucker? Ex-boyfriend?"

"Johnny." Simon's tone held warning. You appreciated the defense, but frankly didn't care. These were strangers. Who cared what they thought.

"Ex-fiancée," you clarified. "One who decided to fuck another girl in my bed. Not even our bed. My bed."

"Jesus fucking Christ," the Scot swore. "I was right. He was a fucking bawbag." For whatever reason, that made you laugh. For the first time in two weeks you fucking laughed. And it felt like you were breathing again.

Simon was quiet, not contributing to the conversation and just letting Johnny babble. Talking your ear off in a short trek as if it were an olympic sport.

You were so distracted with his voice you hadn't realized how far you had made it until the sound of your keys clattering onto your kitchen counter brought you back.

Back to a situation you didn't know how the fuck you landed in.

Two men (who you don't know) are in your apartment. Your friends don't know where you are. You are a little bit too inebriated to plan and exit strategy. Doesn't exactly help your confidence in fighting them off since they are built like fucking brick houses.

"He won't come sniffin' around here botherin' ya, will he?" Simon asks, speaking for only the second time since he had threatened Cardan. You shake your head.

"No," you said. "I have him blocked on everything. So I think when he saw me tonight it was just kind of an opportunity, I suppose?" You offer. Cardan had showed up to your place one time with a random assortment of flowers and a useless apology you had to hear through the door as you covered your mouth. Concealing your cries. Too afraid to let him know you were there.

Too afraid that some part of you would be weak enough to take him back.

"We'll leave ye' be." Johnny said, nodding his head toward the door. "But if he comes bein' a shite to ye again, you can give us a call."

"Phones dead." You explain, holding up your phone as if you needed to prove yourself. Johnny offered the brilliant, yet simple solution of giving him your number. He sent off a text, knowing it would be there when you turned back on and promising to check in later.

They both gave subtle nods of goodbye before turning away.

And just like that, they left. The door clicking softly shut behind them. You stood, frozen for several beats before walking over and locking the door.

You plugged your phone into the charging cable, waiting until it lit back to life before shooting off a text in your group chat with Tab and Mere.

Sorry I took off. Ran into Cardan and fucking made a dash for it. Sorry if I worried you. I'm at home. I'm okay. Grab lunch tomorrow and we can talk about it? My treat?

You signed off the text with a heart emoji and turned your phone on do not disturb. Too afraid of your friends going all Mama Bear on you for running away while drunk. Even if your reasons were valid.

You had texted Johnny again. Not because Cardan dared to bother you again, but to thank him. Acknowledging that not many men would have done for you what he and his friend did. Johnny assured you it wasn't anything.

Before you knew it, the two of you were hanging out with Simon always tagging along. It took you a while to realize he did actually like you, but his stoic nature was just who he was. You had met Kyle and John, both as charming and respectful as Johnny and Simon.

John had been the first two mention wanting to take you on a date. It didn't go well with the other three. They all had the same intention and a rock, paper, scissors tournament seemed to juvenile to figure out who got the privilege in courting you. Eventually, they had decided to ask you.

Putting you on the spot to answer the question that had begun to tear them apart: which one of them will it be?

Johnny made you laugh. He was the first person you thought about calling when your day was a bit grey. He saw the positive in everything and was the one who made you feel like even the bad days weren't so terrible.

Then there was Simon. The one who you felt like was your safe place in body and mind. You would babble all day talking to him, thankful when he would let you rant. Your mind was able to go on auto-pilot in terms of safety because you knew Simon would handle it. He also gave the best hugs.

John was the one who instilled the confidence in you that you needed. Your bookstore, your writing, whatever aspirations you had, no matter how wild, John would support it. Nothing was too big. After you all started dating, he was the first person you ever let read your book. He gave you praise as well as critique, pointing out multiple plot holes and helping you craft it better. And never once taking credit for it, even when it was due.

Kyle was the most thoughtful one. He was the one who knew you liked trying knew things so he made an effort to always make date nights interesting. A new restaurant, a new activity or experience. He was the biggest giver of the group.

So when they did ask you, you answered honestly.

"I can't choose." They insisted that you didn't need to spare their feelings, but you stood firm in your decision. "No. I can't choose. I'm interested in all of you." When they pressed on why the fuck you didn't say anything earlier, you told them to avoid this kind of situation. Where you had to choose. You were fine continuing on as just friends if that meant you got to keep all of them.

Mere and Tabs were great friends, but they are the ones who helped pull you out of the slump. The ones who made you feel lovable. The ones who made you feel like a woman again.

"Helloooooo." Mere's hand waved in your face while another held something she had found in your closet. "So are you going to change or not?" Your eyes darted to the skimpy glittery black dress. The same one for your first date with them. Your stomach twisted as you took the sparkly dark fabric in your hand.

You nodded as if trying to shake the memory out of your mind. "I'll change and we can go." Better just to get it over with.

The place that Mere had dragged you to was a club that played music that you would only listen to while encapsulated in the aroma of cheap liquor and sweat. Your outfit form-fitting. The material too stiff to be comfortable, but it was cute. The hem of your dress coming to rest just below your ass cheeks. Hugging your body in a way that made you feel self conscious the moment you stepped out of your building.

Mere had run into some work colleagues. Names you couldn't and wouldn't remember. There had been a high profile divorce going on. Very messy. She had been so encapsulated by the gossip that she hadn't notice you and Tabitha had slipped off toward the bar.

Tabitha insisted on shots and you needed something to get your mind off the less than exciting night. Your expectations weren't high, but fuck. You would have been much more comfortable wearing the jeans. You felt like a piece of fucking meat. It would have been so bad if someone were gonna buy you a dr-

"This seat taken?" It was a cliche introduction attached to a slightly better than average face. Decent enough where it didn't hurt to look at him, but not attractive enough to be a seat.

"By all means," you said turning back to Tabitha who looked at the guy now sitting to your left and raising her eyebrows. Fucking hell. Not her too.

"It's pretty packed tonight." He commented, attempted to make small talk. You hated small talk. At least unless it came to Johnny who would get into discussion on politics, religion and why on the side was the best way to fuck because it gave him 'a perfect view of the front and back of ye.'

"You come here often?" You asked, not wanting to be a total bitch, but having absolutely zero desire to be entertaining him.

"When I can." He said. "I prefer the Artifact a couple of blocks down. Not many people heard of it. A bit of a hole-in-the-wall place." Oh cool. A fucking hipster who liked to act superior at knowing a place that is underground. You could feel any possibility of getting your pussy wet, dry at the thought of this man actually wanting to come onto you.

Jesus, when did you become so harsh.

I blame Simon.

"Oh," you say, no longer interested in entertaining the conversation. "Sounds lovely. My friend and I just came out for a bit of girl-" you turn to look at Tabitha who had somehow miraculously disappeared in the 45 fucking seconds that your back was turned....

Little bitch.

"Bathroom, I suppose." He laughed. It was the sincerity in his voice that irked you. God, why was he pissing you off just trying to start a conversation?

"I suppose." You gave a soft smile back, turning once the bartender had come over to grab your order. Which the stranger next to you had insisted buying. Nothing quite as arousing as obligated conversation.

"There's no need for that-"

"Percival." He introduced. "But my friends call me Percy." Your immediate thought was who the fuck names there kid Percival. The second was to offer him a fake name. Real enough to be believable, but fake enough where if he tried to search you up on any social media, you could just deny having any.

"I hate to be brash," he started. Then don't. "But I can't imagine a girl like you being single."

"Not really looking for anything romantic at the moment." You say, the first time you've been truthful this entire conversation. Percival leaned in closer, before asking in a low voice that he was doubt trying to convey as sexy, "Are you sure?"

And there it was. The final ick that nailed the coffin shut.

You offered in a soft smile before swallowing hard. "Percival,"

"My friends call me-"

"I'm going to be frank." Your voice is soft, as if explaining to a small child why we don't always get the things we want. "I just got of a very long and deep and meaningful relationship and the idea of being near another man in any intimate or emotional capacity wants me to cause very serious bodily harm to said man."

His expression fell.

"I appreciate your confidence in coming over here and making small talk, but if you're wanting to fuck me or even attempt to be friends, I must inform you that is no only not in the cards, but not in your best interest." You turned, downing the rest of your cocktail.

"Time for a trip to the bathroom myself, I suppose." You stood from your seat, having to readjust your dress.. "Have a good night."

You were washing your hands when a red-faced Mere walked into the bathroom. Tabitha on her heels with a concerned expression.

"What did you do?" Mere asked.

"What are you talking about?" You asked. You had half a mind to ask them why the fuck they pulled a disappearing act after insisting you go out.

"You told Percy you would castrate him?" You looked as if you had been slapped. The pieces falling into place to reveal a totally fucked up puzzle.

"You fucking tried to set me up." You seethed, a finger pointing accusingly.

"Well, fuck, what did you expect me to do?" She asked. "You were sulking."

"Listen to me!" You cried. "I want you to listen to me. I was with them for two years. It hasn't even been two weeks and you're going behind my fucking back and trying to set me up with fucking Percival? How the fuck do you even know him? Do you even know him?" She ignored your last question. How convenient.

"I thought it would be good to get it out of your system." She tried to defend, her pissyness now matching yours. "You always do this. I was just trying to help."

"What do you mean 'I always do this'?" Your eyes turned into slits.

"Why don't we just calm down and-" Tabitha tried to stop the escalation. Mere, very obviously, ignored that cue.

"You get so hung up on a guy, or in this case guys, it takes you fucking weeks to recover." You stare at her. Unsure if she was really comprehending the bullshit that had come out of her mouth.

"I'm certain you aren't trying to make me feel bad for grieving a relationship that I was in for over three years to a man I was engaged to. To find him fucking in my apartment, in my bed the same week I was going to get my wedding dress."

"It's not just Cardan," she went on. "Issac in our second year of school?" You gave a humorless chuckle.

"Oh yes," you said condescendingly, "the boy I had dated from 14-years old- until I was 19. The boy I gave my virginity two months before he told me he was not only not interested in me, but women in general." As if that somehow lessened the blow. "Absolutely shouldn't have bothered me a bit."

"You only went out for classes and food for two months!" She said as if you had hit a pedestrian with your car. As if you were a fool for being so distracted by a breakup you couldn't be bothered to carry on with life as normal.

"I'm sorry that I actually take the time to grieve my relationships." You said. "I forgot that it may be hard for either of you to comprehend what a relationship is like considering the only relationship either of you have is with your work or with each of us."

"Hey!" Tabitha said. "I understand your pissed, but there isn't need to attack us like this."

"Attack you?" You asked. "Attack you? This isn't me attacking you. This is me responding to an uncomfortable situation that you put me in. I told you I didn't want to even think about me. I didn't want to fuck someone else and you go and do this?"

"He seems like a decent guy." You roll your eyes.

"Probably why he's not your type, right?" Mere crossed her arms over chest. Eyebrow arched as if she were hoping the words enticed you to realize that you had a history of going after the wrong guys.

Unfortunately, it did not.

You sucked on your teeth, carefully choosing your words before World War III broke out in a nearly vacant bathroom in South London. You took a deep breath. Calming yourself as best as you could.

Before saying fuck it and letting it loose.

"Just because your idea of coping is getting drunk and fucking someone you plan on never speaking to again, quite literally discarding them like trash, doesn't mean the rest of us cope the same way." You hoped it hurt. You hope it stung the same way she had tried to sting you.

You had hoped that your word would be the final blow before both sides called a treaty.

"You mean like they did you?"

And just like that, you heart stuttered. A rapid dum dum dum in your chest as it had been tripped up by her words. The truth in them heavy. The shift in the air was almost immediate;.

"Sweetheart-" Tabitha had tried to reach out before you jerked away.

"Enjoy your night." You said, grabbing your purse where you had left it by the sink. "I'm going to go home and wallow in my self pity." You exited the bathroom, hearing your named called again before shifting it into gear and getting the fuck out of there.

Weaving through the sea of bodies like water flowing around rocks.

Who the fuck cares if you want to cry? To grieve? To be angry? To get closure? To move on? Who cares if you don't want to be the girl who gets her heart shattered and not fuck somone else? Who wants to feel the comfort of a familiar body, a touch that feels safe one last time before you go back into a world where you will only be touched by a stranger?

It didn't matter that you were the one to breakup with them, even if the relationship was broken. It's foundation cracked.

What did matter is that the people who should have supported you and in the way you were dealing with your loss in your own way, didn't. And that's the part that they seem to forget. It is a loss. It's mourning someone who hasn't died. Someone who is still living, yet still no longer there.

"Off already?" Percy cut in the way, blocking your escape. You weren't in the mood.

"Listen-" you started before he cut you off.

"Not anything romantic, I know," he raised his hands as if in defense, "but maybe like another drink or a dance?"

You closed your eyes, wanting to hold off starting a scene and tearing him a new asshole. "Like I said, not. interested." How much clearer could you spell it out?

"Come on." He said, his hand coming to rest on your hip. The grip on it weak. You were by no means the type of woman that could take on a man like the ones you still held in a chamber of your heart. But you could most certainly handle your own against Percival. "I'm asking for a dance. After what Meredith told me, I figured you'd be down for at a little more than that."

"I don't follow." Your blood ran cold. Your heart praying that any assumptions that were running through your mind were wrong, they were wrong.

"She mentioned you having a group of like guys you fucked, but stopped fucking." He shrugged, offering a coy smile that you ached to wipe off with the back of your hand. "I don't judge. It's kind of hot honest. Did they run train or-" You felt it then. His hand had traveled from your hip to the curve of your ass.

And you froze. You froze like a coward. Too afraid to speak or scream. Too ashamed to push him away, cause a scene.

But you didn't need to do any of that.

In an instant, Percy's hand was off of you. It took you a moment to realize that a figure dressed in black stood beside you. Your own personal grim reaper.

"Put him go!" You pleaded, breaking out of your trance. You took hold of his arm putting all of your body weight on his arm, trying to break his hold. He didn't falter.

You could handle you own against Percy.

But Simon could fucking kill him without breaking a sweat.

You looked at Simon's face. His eyes were darkened. The soft brown you had once loved staring into were now almost black. You could even make out the dark circles, even in the unsettling flickering of strobe lights in the club.

"You touch her again and I'll slit your fucking throat. Understood?" Pure venom fell from Simon's lips, but you knew he wasn't lying. Simon was the type of man who didn't say something he didn't mean.

You knew that all too well.

Percy choked out an ineligible, gurgled response as Simon's hand held firm on his throat. "He understands, goddammit, no let him down!" You ordered hitting at him as if it would stop him. "Simon, please!"

It was only when you said his name, did Simon loosen his grip. Letting Percy drop to a heap on the floor before he started a having a coughing fit, trying to suck in as much air as he could.

Simon looked down at you and the exit before scooping you up and hauling you over his shoulder like a sack of flower.

You wanted to die. You wanted to crawl in a hole and die and never show your face again.

"Get in the car." He at least had the decency to open the door for you. Simon wasn't a flashy man, by any means, but he was still a man. A men did love their cars.

He stood, waiting for you but you didn't move. You glared up at him. He had carried you out of there in the most humiliating way possible. You had to fight against the hemline of your dress or else everyone would have gotten an eyeful.

Hand still on the door, he leaned down, getting closer and closer to your height. "You get your ass in this car right now," his breath warm against your ear. "Or I'll have you over my fuckin' knee." His tone was sharp. It wasn't seduction in form of a threat. It wasn't even a threat.

It was a promise.

"We're over." You reminded.

"Do you think that'll fuckin' stop me from spankin' some sense into your bratty ass?"

"It doesn't give you the right to fucking do that to people, Simon!" You huffed. "You could have killed in."

"Could have," he agreed. "But didn't. You're welcome." he nodded toward the car. "Now, in you go or I'll do it here. You already know I don't mind an audience."

The heated seats were a bit to warm for your liking against your bare ass. The tension in the air was uncomfortable. Your hands ached to touch the radio. Anything to stop the silence between the two of you.

"I got home fine the other night by the way." You said, looking out the window, hoping to make him feel like shit for not checking in like he should have.

"I know you did."

"What do you mean you know I did?" You asked, turning to look at him. He shrugged as if it wasn't anything out of the ordinary, not stopping.

"Just did." Was his only answer.

"Are you fucking stalking me, Riley?" That made him laugh. You would have felt better if there was at least a sense of humor in it, but, instead, only disbelief.

"Oh, Riley now, is it?" He asked.

"You're not my body guard, Simon." You snapped.

"Not trying to be," he said. "I was never trying to be." You caught it. A very small slip, but it was something... something you couldn't place.

"Then why?" You ask, your tone softening. "For someone who makes it very apparent to be done with me, you sure do show up at convenient times. Hard not to think your keeping tabs on me."

He didn't say anything. No explanation or excuse. Not evena smart ass comeback or remark.

His hands reached forward and turned on the radio, turning the volume just loud enough that if you were to try and continue the conversation, your words would be drowned out.

He pulled up in front of your building, yet you made no move to get out. You turned off the radio, soaking in the silence once more. You wanted to know why? Why was he appearing out of nowhere like a fucking ghost? Why was he helping you?

He sighed before putting the car in park and stepping out. Coming around to your side he opened the door. "Get inside. Go to bed." There he was again. Fucking bossing you around as if he still had a say.

You wanted to cuss him out. To spew hateful words just as he did you.

But you didn't.

You were tired.

So fucking tired. And the idea of going to bed did sound pretty good in that moment. You made it to the door of your building before he spoke again. "And if you need to out at this time at night call a goddamn cab."

"Why?" You asked, turning around. "Getting tired of having to follow me around on foot, Si?"

There was a pregnant pause. Neither of you speaking. His body shifted forward, as if contemplating getting closer to you. As if the pull you once had was still there.

With his eyes trained on you, you felt a chill run down your spine. Twice you had seen that look on Simon's face before. The look that he had given the figures concealed in the shadows last night. The same look he had given Percy.

Only this time, it was directed at you.

One that personified the saying, 'if looks could kill.'

"Because," he growled out, "the next time I find someone else touching you that way, I'll fucking kill them."

[gay-dorito-dust]

I have been binging your work!

I don't know if this breaks your trauma rule or not, but (with the guys of your choosing as long as Ratio is there) how would the guys react to losing reader (they haven't confessed feelings yet) during a mission and thinking they died. Then, the reader reappears a week later bandaged up, but alive. Maybe spouts their confession first? ˘͈ᵕ˘͈

I adore your writing. Thank you!

This is way too fucking long, so be warned. It’s like I rammed 4 mini stories in one but got lost at some point cuz I left this ask to collect dust. Also thanks for enjoying my writing it’s much appreciated. :) 🦦🐿️

Sunday:

The moment he got news that you’ve been assumed dead in the aftermath of a dangerous mission, he looses composure really quickly.

Loosing Robin was one thing but loosing you on top of that was the straw that broke the camels back.

He originally doesn’t believe that you were gone, he refuses to as he practically tears his office to shreds in a fit of anger and grief before forcing himself to regain composure and clean up after his outburst. He needed to in order to keep up the illusion that he was the levelheaded leader The Family needed in these moments of chaos and mistrust.

Even if he himself was breaking down internally alongside everyone else, hellbent on finding the culprit for your death and punishing them so severely that they’d beg for death. He’d avenge you in anyway he could, even if it meant sending out the bloodhound family on a wild goose chase that only ends in dead ends, he would get you justice no matter how it may come.

His heart had died alongside you that day.

So when a week passes and he finally has you back in his arms, all the while being carful with your wounds as his eyes searched you over in a way you weren’t use to.

‘You’re alive.’ He breathes out in relief as he then begins to laugh and rest his head against yours, breathing you in deeply as he relishes in this long awaited moment. ‘Of course you’re alive.’ He mutters.

‘Sunday,’ you began but Sunday was quite to cut you off.

‘Do you know how I felt thinking you were dead? Driving myself insane to prove that you were still alive anyway I could as not to bear the idea of walking through this life without the one person I love so dearly.’ Sunday takes a brief pauses in his monologue, feeling out of breath after having put everything out into the open before continuing. ‘I thought my heart had stopped beating that day and now I have you bad in my arms.’ Sunday then chuckles darkly as he gripped you tighter. ‘I’ll ensure that I’d never have to revisit that part of my life ever again.’

‘Sunday-‘

‘Shhh.’ Sunday cuts you off once more, pressing a kiss to your forehead as he holds you close to his chest, rubbing your back soothingly. ‘Just know that what I do after this, I do out of my love for you.’ He says against your forehead before pressing another kiss there for good measure.

Jing yuan:

Loss wasn’t new to Jing Yuan.

He has experienced it in multiple forms throughout his life, but that didn’t made the news of your death any less painful for the General.

While his mind might’ve made peace with the fact that you were gone, his heart however did not as he would find himself in the places that you often vacated to in moments of stress, or to just be left alone for a while with your thoughts. So to no longer see you in any of those hidden spots -waiting for him to find you like you usually did- only worsened the grief he felt in his heart as he sat himself down and allowed the memories to pass over him in waves.

You were both so happy together and felt a sense of fulfilment that could only be achieved when you were within the other’s presence; A feeling that was uniquely yours and yours alone that could never be replicated, ever. For no one could ever come close to replacing you, nor the companionship you and he had for each other that many assumed would blossom into something more; Jing Yuan also shared the same sentiments as they did, but just as he built the courage to push that boundary between the two of you, you were taken from him before he could utter a single word.

So when a week passes and Jing Yuan found your battered and beaten form in one of your secret spots, back resting against a tree with your eyes closed.

‘Y/n?’ He called out and your eyes opened upon hearing his voice and looking at him with a weak smile. ‘Hey General, miss me?’ You said as you struggled to get up to your feet, only to stumble forward and into Jing Yuan’s chest as his strong yet gentle hands hold you in place.

‘More than you could ever hope to know.’ Jing yuan said as he focused on how you felt beneath his hands, warm and alive.

‘I’m sorry I kept you waiting.’ You muttered against his chest as his warmth made you realised just how tired you were from everything you’ve experienced this last week alone. ‘I never meant to keep you waiting in fear that you’d forget about me if I don’t stay in your life long enough.’ You admit and Jing Yuan instinctively presses a soft kiss to the top of your head, holding you protectively.

‘I could never forget about you my beloved.’ Jing Yuan reassured you as he looked you deep into your eyes. ‘You’ve managed to carve your place within my heart and soul, so much that there isn’t a day where you aren’t all I think about, regardless of whether or not your by my side or far away.’ He finished by pressing a gentle kiss to the gauze on your cheek, chuckling upon seeing your cute attempts of burrowing your face into his chest.

‘How long have you’ve been waiting to say this.’ You asked, thankful that he was the one to admit his feelings first, as you would’ve had a hard time articulating your words as fluidly as he could.

‘For a very long time.’ Jing Yuan replied with a small smile as he then proceeded to lift you into his arms, cuasing you to squeal in surprise, as he made sure to be carful of your wounds and began walking to the nearest medics to make sure your wounds weren’t going to be trouble later on.

Aventurine:

He didn’t know what to think when you were pronounced dead, all Aventurine could feel in that moment was an overwhelming numbness that encased him entirely.

The only light left in his life had been snuffed out, plummeting him into utter and total darkness he had once been well acquainted with until you came along, giving him a reason to keep looking forward despite everything.

You were no longer here to hold onto his left hand before he could even think of hiding it behind his back out of habit, you were no longer here to be his reason, his comfort, his safe place. You were taken away from him unfairly and once again Aventurine found himself asking the same question he has been asking himself for a long time; why everyone was born into this life just to die.

So when a week passes and Aventurine finds himself sat on a bench somewhere, still not dealing well then than he was the week of your assumed passing, lost in his own thoughts when someone took a seat next to him. Aventurine was just about ready to tell them to go away, when he saw just who was sitting next to him; you.

‘I know, I look like shit but you don’t have to look at me like that.’ You spoke upon feeling his eyes gaze upon the gauze on your cheek, then towards the array of bandages that littered the rest of your body.

‘I thought you died.’ He hissed, emotion was heavy in his voice as his eyes became bleary with unshed tears as he felt his breathing become heavy with the reality that you were alive. He didn’t know what was real and what wasn’t in that moment as his mind raced. And it wasn’t until you reached out to grasp his left hand and intertwine your fingers together, squeezing, did everything finally became clear to him.

‘I thought I was too at one point but there was something that kept me from journeying over to the afterlife.’ You admit, looking over at him and smiling sweetly, wanting nothing then to calm his thoughts and reassure him that this wasn’t a dream.

‘And what was that?’ He laughs humourlessly as he stares back at you, wanting to hear what excuses you could come up with for faking being dead for a week. ‘Willpower? Determination?’

‘You Kakavasha.’ You replied straightforwardly and his breath hitched in his throat. You rarely used his actual name unless it was absolutely serious. ‘You were all I thought about as I pushed through my injuries.’ You told him as you continued. ‘Kakavasha is waiting for me was just about all I could think about for a week straight.’ You finished as though you didn’t just confess that he was your soul motivator in staying alive.

‘Really?’ Aventurine said softly, finding it impossible that he could possibly be your reason for anything. ‘Why?’

‘Yes really.’ You chuckled, pressing a kiss to his cheek as you rested your head against his shoulder. ‘As for why, it’s because I like you more then did let myself admit, but i just wanted you to know incase anything truly bad were to ever happen to me-‘

‘No.’ Aventurine cut you off suddenly, squeezing your hand as though he were afraid. ‘Nothing is going to happen to you, not now. not ever. I just got you back.’ He adds resting his head against your own in a desperate attempt of feeling more of your against him. ‘Just stay with me…please.’ He begs you in a whisper as he nuzzled further into you. ‘and don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I don’t think I can bear the thought of loosing you again.’

You smiled softly as you just whispered back against the skin of his neck. ‘As long as you don’t go anywhere I can’t follow. I like my crush to be alive and close by even if he can be a pain in my ass sometimes.’

Aventurine chuckles, his heart becoming whole again as he made you cuddle into his side, kissing your head once more as you took this moment to familiarise yourselves with each other. ‘At least I’m a pleasurable pain in the ass.’ He teased and you pinch his side, causing him to flinch, but his smile remained and this time his smile was genuine.

His light has came home.

Ratio:

Fully believed that he’d see you when the mission ended, knowing just how talented and dedicated to the craft you were, and having faith that this would be a measly walk in a park for you.

Only to receive word that you were one of the many who were assumed dead when you weren’t found amongst the living nor the dead.

Veritas tries to remain as levelheaded and logical as possible during this time and continue life as normal. However found himself retracting from everyone else and going none contact, more so specifically with the people you were once associated with, and instead focused heavily on his studies and academics to an unhealthy extent.

A week passes and Veritas feels as though he’s seen a ghost the moment he saw you in his peripheral vision, bandaged and dressed in ripped clothing but still somehow finding it in you to smile.

‘You idiotic Buffon!’ He exclaims as he walks towards you.

‘Well that’s a nice way to greet someone you care about.’ You replied as you readied yourself for a massive rant about how stupid you were and so on, but instead you were held against his chest as he burrows his head into your neck.

‘I thought you died.’ He says in a whisper as he breathed you in. This went against all logic but in that rare moment Veritas didn’t care, you were alive but he still couldn’t let go of the fact that you didn’t tell anyone you were still alive. ‘Why didn’t you tell anyone that you were alive, send a signal, anything.’

You shrugged as you made yourself comfortable in his strong arms. ‘All communications were badly damaged or completely cut off.’ You told him. ‘I was on my own for a long while before finding my way back to you.’

‘Me?’ Veritas asked, pulling away from you. ‘Why not a medial facility for a proper treatment of your wounds? Have you hit your head so hard that common sense had been left on the back burner when making that decision?’

‘I wanted to see you first you dickhead!’ You exclaimed, shutting Veritas up rather quickly with your confession but you didn’t care. ‘is it so wrong of me to let the man I love know that I’m okay? So go ahead and call me an idiot all you like but that won’t change the fact that I felt more fear about not telling you how I truly feel then dying on some stupid mission.’ You finished your rant.

‘You’re insufferable.’ Veritas said after a moment of silence and you couldn’t help but feel a little annoyed at this that you didn’t notice that Veritas has began to close in the distance between the two of you.

You scoffed. ‘Oh sure call me insufferable as if you-‘ Veritas cuts you off by cupping your cheeks and planting a sweet short lived kiss against your lips before pulling away with a smirk.

‘Glad to know that the feelings are reciprocated.’ He says, taking enjoyment of rendering you speechless as he gently guided you to medical, and remaining by your side for the remainder of the day.

[pseudowho]

"Oh, fuck-- Kento, stopstopstop-- go back--"

Kento grimaced, almost comedically, as you tried to push him back out through the coffee shop doorway, and into the freezing rain. The bell above you dinged, and dinged, and dingalingdingdinged as the two of you battled, and the door danced back and forth against it.

Kento wouldn't leave the promise of fresh bread without a fight.

"-- if they haven't got the casse croute left, I'll be perfectly happy with something else-" (he wouldn't) "--and I can come back later to grab one for lunch tomorrow--" (he couldn't) "--and I'd just prefer to get out of the rain--" (please)

"No," you hissed, urging, "no, it's not that, it's--"

Kento blinked, one long, slow blink, over your shoulder. He clocked a man-- a familiar man, one whose photos he had once seen you tear to shreds-- who was sat at a window table already. Ah. He understood.

"Don't worry," Kento murmured, slipping a discrete, strong hand around your waist to press you through the doorway, as you looked up at him in anguish, "he won't bother us. But if he does--" (no, Kento-- you shouldn't--")

By the time the inevitable occurred, and your ex approached to wipe the smile off your face, Kento had already calculated the sum of the man, and found he came up short.

Kento watched you from over the rim of his cup, concealing a smirk in foam as you cold-shouldered your ex with such exquisite vindictiveness that he felt himself twitch against his thigh. Kento pinched your thigh, softly, as you stalked past him to excuse yourself to the bathroom.

Your ex chewed on something Kento only hoped was gum, and sat on your chair (have to dry-clean her coat for her, shit) and regarded Kento's beige suit with a shit-eating grin. He held out his hand, which Kento shook, despite its filthy nails (ugh).

"New guy, are you?" Said your ex, kissing his teeth with a glint in his eye, "How do you like my sloppy seconds?"

Kento smiled, though it didn't quite reach his eyes, "I find flowers stay fresh and thriving in new soil, actually. And anyway, things were rather fresh after the first, ah...four inches, was it?"

Your ex balked, and recoiled. As he leaned back against his chair, his face turned puce, and he opened his mouth to make a scene, which we can't have, Kento, oh no, so--

"I advise you move forwards again-- just a little more-- there. Perfect."

Your ex, stunned, had followed Kento's mellow instruction without questioning, and shuffled back forwards into the fresh sunlight. Kento smiled again.

"There we go. Things don't grow in the shade. Would you like the lamp on? I can reach it for you."

Your ex scoffed now, and scoffed some incoherent curses, and scoffed himself into standing and tripping over the leg of his chair. You arrived back from the bathroom, and regarded your soiled chair with disgust.

"--you can keep her--" Your ex spat, jostling his pockets for his car keys, "--of all the cheek-- I'm leaving--"

"In that?" Kento regarded a car outside the coffee shop, as its one working indicator flashed to life, "I didn't bring my jump cables. Will you be alright?"

You choked into your latte, clattering it down onto the table to turn away and cough into your sleeve. Your ex looked as though he may hit Kento (he can try), but remembered himself, and went to move to the cashier.

Kento piped up one last time, barely audible above the coffee shop din.

"I wouldn't worry. I paid your bill, when we arrived. Buy yourself something...nice."

Your ex scarpered, bursting out of the door like a cat out of its cage. You took a bite of cake through teary-eyed, muffled laughter. Kento smiled over at you, leaning on one hand to admire your blossoms and life.

"You're such a bitch, Kento, I knew I shouldn't have left you alone with him--"

(you're right; you shouldn't have)

[i2sunric]

MON AMOUR (p.sh)

pairing: husband!sunghoon x reader (f)

summary: after a tiring day spent following your twin children and doing the chores, what could be better than letting your husband take care of you?

warnings: fluff & smut. unprotected sex (don’t be silly, wrap your willy), they have a daughter and a son, creampie, p in v, dirty talk, meandom!hoon, breeding kink, mentions of pregnancy, making out, kissing, cuddling. lmk if more. NOT PROOFREAD.

wc: 3.1k

published: 20th May 2024

taglist: (permanent) @stolasisyourparent @jaeyunsbimbo @heelvsted @jwnghyuns @seunghancore @bangtancultsposts (one shot) @slut4hee @love13tter @deobitifull @xiaoderrrr @cha0thicpisces @minjaexvz @crimnalseung @skylaly @ensaz008

a/n: based on this ask from anon. hope you don’t mind i changed it a little bit <3 i just love imagining how enha would call their kids (like, in heeseung’s fic, jia 😭😭)

“I want the pink toothbrush!” Your daughter shouted with her high pitched voice, pointing at the toothbrush of the respective colour.

“Alright.” You smiled and handed it to her, “Here you go, Haneul.” 

“And you?” You looked at Haneul’s twin brother, smiling ever so sweetly “I want green.” Yohan answered, his chubby finger pointing at the toothbrush. 

You removed it from the wrapping and handed it to him “Now, brush your teeth, I want them all clean, alright?” 

Both of them nodded and you started filling in the laundry, programming it to function for that night. Spring coming with its perfect weather for the twins to play outside, it also meant your laundry had to work overtime with the amount of mud they get on their clothes.

Turning around, you noticed them arguing over the toothpaste. You shook your head and took it out of Haneul’s hand before she could make a mess and put a little bit on it on both of their toothbrushes. 

Patrolling so that they wouldn’t argue over something silly again, you helped them in their pyjamas and tugged their covers.

With one kiss on each of their foreheads, you whispered “Good night.” And exited their room, hoping none of them woke up for the whole night.

You rested your back against the door, rubbing your temples with a soft sigh. You loved the twins, you had never wished for something as wonderful as them— But it was draining to follow them the whole day and also do all the chores. 

You tried your best not to let it show, Sunghoon surely had it worse, waking up at dawn and coming back later than sunset. It must be so exhausting you didn’t have the heart to complain about your own tiredness.

You walked to the bedroom, opening the door just to widen your eyes when you saw Sunghoon’s figure, removing his blazer meaning he had just come home. 

You smiled “Hey.” You said, closing the door behind your back. 

He raises his eyebrows at the sight of you. “Hey pretty,” Sunghoon murmured, his eyes trailing along the length of your body.

He threw his jacket on the edge of the chair sitting over by his desk, his eyes not leaving you for a moment.

“You’re back.” You stated, fighting the urge not to add a ‘finally’ and walked towards him, taking the jacket to fold it better.

He watched as your fingers nimbly folded the jacket, a soft smile appearing on his tired face. 

Sunghoon felt the stress of the day slowly disappear from him when he looked at you. He reached out and took the jacket from your hand, setting it down before pulling you close to him.

“I couldn't stay away from you three any longer.” He mumbled, pressing a soft kiss upon your lips.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, tilting your head “They kept asking about you.” 

A small laugh escaped his lips and he tightened his arms around your waist in return, “Did they really?” It was rhetorical since he already knew the answer. 

He hadn’t been home early enough to see them for days due to his work and he couldn’t help but feel guilty at the fact. Sunghoon knew that he needed to spend more time at home, with you and his little daughter and son.

You hummed, resting your head on his chest with a small sigh. You had missed the way your bodies mended together, just so perfect for each other.

His warm embrace always made your day better, no batter what hardship you had encountered— He just knew what made you happy.

Noticing that you weren’t saying much as usual, where you would tell him all the things that happened through the day, Sunghoon gently cupped the back of your head, his fingers brushing your hair out of your face.

“You ok, love?” He asked softly, tilting your head up so he could look at you, his eyes scanning your face to search for any sign of discomfort.

“I’m sorry,” You shook your head “I’m just tired.” You gave him a small smile, not wanting to worry him much. 

He nodded, understanding that you were going through a lot as well, “Don’t apologise,” Sunghoon mumbled, before pressing a gentle kiss on your forehead.

“I think we could both benefit from being in bed right now,” He teased lightly, a smirk appearing on his lips “You worked so hard, even ironed all my blazers.”

“Yeah but you take a shower first.” You pointed a threatening finger in his chest “I just changed the sheets.” 

Sunghoon chuckled lowly, “Then come join me,” He winked, gently squeezing your hip as he stepped back towards the bathroom, not letting you take a moment to respond that he was dragging you with him. 

“Hoon…” You murmured, looking back anxiously, despite the bathroom being private, they still might hear you “We need to be quiet.” 

Sunghoon looked over at you with a cocky smile, unbuttoning his shirt slowly “You know I’ll try my hardest.”

You narrowed your eyes “You never do.” 

He smirked back at you as he dropped his shirt to the floor, “You love it though,” He quipped teasingly, watching you as you stood there, watching him unabashedly.

You crossed your arms “The twins might hear us, I’m not sure they’re asleep yet.” 

“I’m sure they are.” He commented, stepping closer to you and pulling you flush to him once again.

“Besides, it’s you who needs to keep quiet, baby.” He mumbled softly as he leaned down to press a trail of kisses along the side of your neck.

You let out a contented sigh, tilting your head back to give him more access.

His hands slipped under the shirt you were wearing, his fingers gliding over the bare skin of your stomach.

Sunghoon pushed you against the counter, his teeth nibbling your collarbone, leaving small, red marks.

His hands squeezing your hips gently to keep you in place.

He was desperate to have you close again after being so busy for days and his body was missing you.

You let your hands wander all over his bare chest, feeling his shaped muscles. The feeling of your hands all over him made him eager and desperate to touch you as well. 

He quickly grabbed the hem of your shirt, bringing it over your head before tossing it to the side. 

Sunghoon let out a small groan when he noticed you weren’t wearing any bra. His hands found your breasts right away, groping them.

You attached your lips to him and as the kiss deepened, his hands started trailing down to your hips once again, his fingers digging into the flesh. 

Sunghoon pulled you even closer, moaning lowly into the kiss as he grinded against you, his desire for friction evident against your body.

You let out a shaky breath and trailed your hand down to palm his clothed bulge. 

His breath hitched and his forehead rested against yours, looking into your eyes as you palmed him. 

His lust-filled gaze locked with your own and his hand moved to grab yours, gently pulling it away.

Sunghoon had a smirk on his lips as he brought your hand to his mouth, pressing a gentle kiss on the inside of your wrist. “Not yet, love.”

You looked at him puzzled “Why not?”

“I want to take my time with you tonight,” Sunghoon spoke gently, his eyes burning into yours. 

One of his hands lifted to move strands of your hair and place it behind your ear. “Just because I haven't been home much doesn’t mean I’ve lost any of my skills. Just relax.” He reassured you, wiggling his thick brows.

“Yeah?” You chuckled “How about you show me?”

Sunghoon’s lips stretched up into a mischievous smirk, pulling the elastic from your hair and letting your hair fall down your shoulders.

He pushed his knee up between your legs, his smirk widening at the small gasp he managed to pry from your lips ”That's exactly what I plan on doing,” He replied.

His knee rubbed up against your heat, applying light pressure every now and then just to tease you. He could feel how hot and desperate you were becoming.

When you felt something sharp on your shoulder, you gasped “Sunghoon… No marks.”

He grinned against your skin, “But you love it when I mark you,” He purred into your ear. 

You lightly hit his shoulder “Still, it’s difficult to hide them.”

Sunghoonleaned closer so his lips hovered over yours, the two of you sharing the same breath and exhales.

”I don't want you to hide them, love,” His eyes burning with desire as he looked down at your body. “I want you to wear my marks with pride.”

You nagged “How will I explain to the twins where these marks come from?”

A low chuckle left his lips as he let his head drop down to your shoulder, his nose rubbing against your skin. 

“They’re too young to know,” He mumbled against your neck, “And these are for my eyes only anyways.”

You rolled your eyes at his shameless he was “You’re incredible.”

Sunghoon’s other hand moved to hold your chin gently so you’d look at him, his dark eyes boring into yours.

His leg moved up again, pressing harder and rubbing up against the sensitive spot he knew you’d moan at. 

“Hoon…” You murmured, unable to grind your hips on his thigh with the way he was holding you.

 “Do you know how much I missed this?” He breathed out, his fingers gently caressing your cheek before pulling your face closer to his, his mouth hovering just over yours.

“As much as I did.” You replied and made your lips crash back together, your tongues dancing the ballad of love.

“Please..” You pleaded, feeling your body burn in desire “Sunghoon, please.” 

“Please what, pretty?” Sunghoon asked mockingly, knowing exactly what it was that you wanted, but not giving it to you just yet.

“Stop teasing.” You said desperately “Stop teasing you say?” He grinned, “And just give you what you want?” He murmured before pressing a gentle kiss on the shell of your ear.

“Not tonight, baby. Tonight I want you to take what you’re given and you’ll be grateful for everything I do to you.”

Your body shuddered at his words, just the thought of finally being able to be his all over again made slick pool your panties. You nodded obediently, his husky tone just fuelling your desire.

 “Good girl,” Sunghoon mumbled softly, his hand reaching out to gently pull you forward.

“C'mon, you deserve to unwind after dealing with our babies all by yourself,” He reassured with a warm smile, leading you towards the bedroom.

You walked beside him and laid down on the bed, all bare except for the shorts you were still wearing. You looked up at him with utter lust, your nipples hardening at the sight of his huge bulge poking through his working pants. 

Sunghoon noticed it and massaged your breasts, licking his bottom lip.

Your breath was heavy, your eyes piercing through his body and your pussy aching for his cock.

“I need you.” You whispered “Yeah? Need me that bad?” You nodded, rubbing your thighs together.

Such a sight made his cock twitch in his pants, the fabric becoming more and more tight “Can’t wait anymore, mh?” He said and reached for your pants.

“Lift your hips for me.” He said and you complied, helping him remove them. 

Sunghoon held his body above you, his hands on either side of your head to prevent himself from crushing you. 

His tongue quickly slipped into your mouth once again as he relished in the taste he’d missed so badly.

“I’m going to fuck you,” He kissed your lips, unzipping his pants “I’m going to fuck you so good, put another baby in you.”

He groaned at the memory of your swollen belly, carrying not one but two of his children. The idea of having a third one went straight to his cock.

“Knock me up.” You said, blissful euphoria clouding your senses.

Sunghoon pulled down his boxers and pants, his cock sprung free, angry and pulsating. 

Your hand went down to pump it, wanting to provide him some kind of relief.

He let out a moan, bucking his hips to fuck your fist “Do you want me to prep you?” He asked. 

“No, just fuck me.” You said, impatiently, “Make me yours.”

You didn’t need to say more, Sunghoon pulled your hand away to align himself to your entrance after slipping your panties to the side and then pushed his thick tip inside of you. 

“So wet already.” You moaned out at the stretch, so sweet and painful at the same time until he pushed all of him inside of you, his tip kissing your cervix.

“You feel so good, baby,” He mumbled quietly, his body desperate for more of the feeling of you wrapped around him. 

Sunghoon’s hands gripped your hips as he slowly began to roll his own against your body, setting a slow rhythm for both of you.

You rolled your eyes back, mouth agape as you felt him pull out just to push himself right back into you.

“S-shit baby.” He groaned as he picked up pace “Squeezing my cock so tight.” 

You grasped his forearms, his muscles under your palms “Fuck— Yes.” You moaned, a little too loudly.

“Shh,” He shushed by crashing his lips on your, swallowing your moans “You don’t want Haneul and Yohan to hear you, do you?” 

You shook your head, looking at him through half-lidded eyes. 

Your own hand went down to rub small circles on your clit, bringing yourself even more pleasure.

Sunghoon craved you, your body, your mind, your whole being. He wrapped his hand around your throat and pushed himself deeper, hitting spots you didn’t even know existed. 

“My wife.” He grunted “My gorgeous wife.” 

You hummed, hips bucking up to meet his thrusts “I missed you so much.” You breathed out. 

Sunghoon nodded in understanding, claiming your lips once again “I missed you too, baby.” 

Sunghoon squeezed your nipples, making you moan “I’ll take tomorrow off, fuck the company, just want be with my family.” He snapped, his hips moving more harshly against yours.

You didn’t have the mind to reply to his rumbling, his pace along with the feeling of him was enough to make the knot in your stomach tighten. 

You clenched around him, making him curse under his breath “How come you’re still so tight?” He scoffed mockingly “Pushed out two babies and you feel tighter than before— Shit!” Sunghoon bit down his bottom lip to muffle his moans.

You wrapped your arms around his neck, bringing him more down to you “Hoon, I’m gonna cum.” You warned.

“I know, pretty,” Sunghoon panted heavily between moans, his pace even faster as he chased his own end. “Cum for me, yeah?” He mumbled, “Wanna feel you come undone for me.”

You tried to hold it back, wanting the moment and the pleasure your husband brought you to last forever— But it had been a while since you two shared an intimate moment and your body wasn’t used to it as much anymore. 

With one particular deep thrust, you came with a muffled moan, your body squirming and back arched. 

Watching your orgasm sent him over the edge and he came soon after, “Fuck, Fuck.” Groaning heavily as he felt your walls clenching around him. 

He emptied his load inside you, coating your insides with his cum “Take my cum, angel.” Sunghoon twitched inside you “Take it all, good girl.”

As you both tried to come down from your high, he laid on top of you, not caring that he was probably crashing your body. You didn’t care as well when all you wanted was for him to stay close.

One of your hands went to brush his bangs out of his sweaty forehead and you pressed a small kiss on his thick brow. 

Sunghoon chuckled, the aftercare sessions always full of giggle and unspoken affection..

“Will you seriously take tomorrow off?” You asked quietly after a while, unsure whether he was being serious or if he was just too in the moment. 

He chuckled, caressing your cheek with his thumb “I’m the CEO, I decide what I want.” He said proudly. 

You smiled widely, a warm sensation spreading inside your chest “Really?” 

“Really.” He promised, brushing his thumb against your bottom lip “We’ll make a big surprise to the twins and after we take them to kindergarten….” He bucked his hips, his cock still inside your warm pussy, none of you wanting to disconnect your bodies.

He leaned down to whisper inside your ear “I’m going to have you all for myself, fuck you full of my cum until you can’t no more.” 

You kissed him, biting his bottom lip harshly “I’m down.” Sunghoon moaned, pulling you into another make out session, your bodies moving at a slow rhythm.

After cleaning up, you laid down side by side, his big body engulfing yours, warm arms protectively around your waist.

You missed all of it, the smell of his cologne, the warm feeling of the sheets around both your bodies, his soothing presence.

Sunghoon traced small patterns on your back “Stop drawing dicks.” You nagged, chuckling.

He smiled and pressed a featherlight kiss on your head “I’m so lucky to have you.” He took your hand in his, both your rings tingling “And I never tell you enough how grateful I am for our babies.”

You snuggled closer to his chest “I’m so lucky to have you too— I wouldn’t have made it alone.”

“I love you so much.” Sunghoon whispered, his eyes slowly closing, exhaustion overtaking him “I love you more.” You murmured back.

[sundrop-writes]

Need

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader

Summary:

Daryl comes back from a run acting strangely needy, and you find out that Zach made him jealous. (You may have to thank Zach later.)

Or - Daryl fucks your brains out to prove to himself that you're his.

Daryl Dixon x Fem!Reader. Established Relationship. Smut/PWP. Set during early Season 4/The Prison Era.

Word Count: 3,000

The Walking Dead Masterlist | AO3 Link

Detailed warnings and author's notes below the cut.

Warnings: this is mainly a smut fic - the reader uses she/her pronouns and has a vagina; the reader and Daryl have a sexual relationship that skews slightly romantic; the reader's age is not at all specified; Daryl being very needy (hence the title); Daryl is more dominant the reader is more submissive, but there is no laid out rigid roles; Daryl is jealous and trying to 'claim' the reader after someone else makes sexual comments about her (when she is not around to hear those comments); mentions of Daryl drinking alcohol and smoking (does not take place during the fic, just a background element); some manhandling - from Daryl towards the reader (nothing unrealistic or beyond Daryl's known strength); oral sex - reader receiving (Daryl certified pussy eater); references to hunting/killing animals for food (come on, this is a Daryl fic); Daryl is slightly mean in this (he tells the reader to shut up) - but he's not vengeful or mean on purpose, he's just in a mood; spit kink - Daryl spits on the reader's pussy; pussy spanking (this was such a last minute addition and I am so glad I did); Daryl calls the reader 'woman'; overstimulation - towards reader; mention of the reader crying/having tears in her eyes (due to overstimulation); Daryl being very possessive due to his jealousy; hair-pulling - Daryl receiving; very slight anal play (Daryl tongues the reader's asshole - juust a bit); penis in vagina sex; unprotected sex - they don't use a condom and there are no mentions of other forms of birth control (don't be like them); there is no mention of Daryl cumming inside the reader, though because the fic ends before we get to his orgasm (sorry, Daryl); slight cockwarming; the sex gets rough toward the end; I believe that's it for this fic?

A/N: No, this was not the winner of the poll. But right now I am in a mindset for TWD fics because I have been watching the show and I think it's a good opportunity to get this one out of my drafts - especially because it's shorter and easier to edit. If it's not your thing, feel free to ignore it. Also, I am not doing a taglist for this one because a lot of people on the taglist last time did not follow my taglist rules (basically, they were tagged and they didn't show up to read the fic, so it feels like a 'why bother' type of situation). So I'm gonna clean out the taglist and after such a short time, I am considering quitting taglists altogether. Anyway, if you do read it, I hope you enjoy the fic.

...

Need. 

That was the only word you could use to describe Daryl in those moments as he threw you down onto the cot and ripped your pants off with record speed. The air was absolutely ripe with need, the likes of which you had never felt or seen from Daryl before. Especially not in this magnitude. 

Daryl Dixon was someone who rarely came off as needy. 

Since the two of you had started this relationship (it was strange to call it a ‘relationship’ when there was so little conventional romance to it, and so few words) - Daryl was never someone you would have described as ‘needy’. He was always the definition of calm. He was level-headed, quiet, reserved - even more so in the face of your intense needs. The more you became a puddle of melded need, when you boiled over into pure want, especially in his presence, the more he turned into a stone wall of uncrackable cold hardness that you wanted so desperately to see crack. 

It was a game the two of you had been playing since day one. And he hadn’t lost yet, not once. 

Of course, the sex was amazing - even if he never let that facade down. He made sure that your overwhelming, unhidden need always came first. He made sure that you had cum first - usually more than once - before he even considered sticking his cock inside of you or letting you drop to your knees in order to serve him. He was never selfish - a man that lived to serve, in fact. 

That was why it surprised you when he came back from a run that day and grabbed you by your arm, practically dragging you out to the admin block. It was a place that you and Daryl had set up a little nest for personal privacy in the old warden’s office. Daryl had chosen the location both for its privacy, and for the wonderful irony. 

He found it downright hilarious that he was someone who had been reprimanded by cops before the total collapse of society and had been nearly arrested half a dozen times (he liked to put the emphasis on nearly, because he was a fast runner and often disappeared into the woods where they didn’t care to chase him, in contrast to someone like Merle, who was a known drug dealer was of far more interest to them - and much slower). Daryl was someone who could have easily ended up in prison, and now he could sit behind a warden’s desk and smoke a stash of fancy cigars that he had found hidden, and he had polished off the fancy whiskey in between fucking you. 

And he took an even greater enjoyment in fucking you pinned against the warden’s desk - but for practical purposes, he had lugged a cot into the office and set up a more comfortable space for the two of you there. The two of you even slept there sometimes because he still refused to sleep ‘in a cage’ - as he put it. Everyone else in the prison liked to fake that they didn’t know where the two of you went, but really - they were just glad that your love nest was far enough away from everyone else that they didn’t have to be subjected to the sounds you and Daryl made. 

And you were glad that you didn’t have to pretend to go hunting in order to escape to the woods for some privacy. Especially because, even as capable as Daryl was, the threat of Walkers looming over your head while he fucked you did make it a bit difficult to get fully lost in the sensations. 

But all of that was far at the back of your mind while he shucked off his crossbow and tossed it aside carelessly (usually he was someone who was careful to put away his weapon, not wanting to damage it so that he wouldn’t have to waste precious time on repairs) - but today, there was something simply rabid about him. Something itching and impatient. 

You couldn’t deny that it turned you on, but you had to question what had caused the shift in him. Especially when all of your little games - your teasing, your flirting, your dirty words - hadn’t been able to crack him for months. 

“Daryl, what’s gotten into-?” 

You couldn’t even finish posing the question before he began ripping on the waistband of your pants once again. That tense irritability became potent in the air once again when the fabric got caught up in your boots, Daryl letting out a deep grunt and glaring at the obstacle. 

You reached for the laces in order to get everything off, thinking this was what he wanted, but he simply put two large, commanding, calloused hands on the backs of your thighs and shoved down - hard. He pinned you down to the cot with a tough force, something that made the metal of the supposedly temporary furniture squeal with a worrying sound. You almost didn’t hear it over the pitiful, whorish gasp that escaped your lips. 

He was never like this. He was never so desperate. 

You loved it. Your body was flooded by heat, equally as desperate within seconds. 

“Daryl!” You cried out, half confused, half hot red and turned on. 

Your cunt ached fiercely and clenched around nothing and Daryl locked eyes with that pulsing gash, letting out a pleased hum. There was barely a blink before he dove between his own hands, digging in his fingers in tightly where they held onto your quivering muscles and immediately he licked a long, hard stripe up the center of your pussy. 

Hungry. 

That was a word you would have used to describe Daryl many times before.

He was messy and shameless when he ate meals. You had seen him dig into game bloody and raw when he had taken you out hunting, when he was starving and impatient and truly treasured a fresh kill. 

Currently, that’s exactly what you felt like - a fresh kill, recently captured by him, a true prey animal under his grasp being absolutely devoured while you could do nothing more but lay there and take it. 

It felt utterly amazing. 

It felt like where you belonged. 

The room soon became filled with sounds - loud, adamant slurping as his tongue furiously worked over your cunt, creating the same kind of shameless slobber that he did when he was thoroughly enjoying a meal. Your gasps and moans shuddering through your lungs as the sensations rocked your body, the pitiful squeaking protests of the cot as Daryl leaned against you more, putting more weight on those rusting springs. 

He began moaning against your heated flesh while he continued to hold you down by your trembling thighs, and while your ears rang with blood and your face bloomed with heat, you soon realized that the distant, repeated keening sound you could hear - almost like a dying cat - was you. 

You were having difficulty catching your breath and you quickly became dizzy from the hot, heavy pleasure vibrating up your body from his tongue. Made even better by the feeling of his coarse beard rubbing against your sensitive pussy lips, and the deep vibrations of his moans against you. 

All you could do was tightly clutch onto the blanket you had used to make up the cot and buck your face against him, hoping for him to shove his tongue deep inside of you or put some more persistent attention on your needy, throbbing clit, rather than simply grazing against the sensitive organ with each pass, making you more and more needy - 

Daryl groaned into your cunt and then, much to your frustration, he pulled away completely. 

“Stop squirmin’.” He grunted at you, his voice a whole new shade of dark and lustful thick that you had never heard from him - one that made your whole body quiver. 

You let out a pathetic moan, more wetness gushing out of you. 

“Daryl, please-” 

“Shut up.” 

Somehow, him barking this rudely at you made you even wetter. 

You squeaked out another pathetic little sound, expecting that he would get back to devouring you like you were his last meal, seemingly for his own pleasure - but then, he managed to surprise you yet again. 

He used his hold on your thighs to spread your legs (as much as he could with your pants still tangling your ankles together). And then he pursed his lips and heaved a thick, heavy glob of spit onto you - aiming perfectly and causing it to land right on your sensitive, swollen clit. 

Just like his perfect mouth, it was hot and slick, and simply seeing the shiny bead come from his lips to land on you caused you to scream and buck against him like a cow being branded. Which is exactly what he had intended - for you to be branded by him, marked as his, fully owned by him. 

Hot tears of pleasure escaped your eyes and he locked right onto your gaze - even through the choppy dark curtain of his too-long bangs, his steel blue eyes pierced into your soul and the burning lust you saw there punched you in the gut. When he took one of his hands off your thigh, you didn’t have a moment to think about what he was going to do before he brought the heavy pads of his tough, well-worked fingers down onto your already sore clit and spanked you. 

Once, twice, three times - something he had done to you before, knowing exactly how hard to hit you without making it painful, just enough to jolt shocking pleasure through your body and make you sob. 

“Listen, woman.” 

He ground his voice again, lowly, making you shiver when he leaned in and gripped your face with that now wet hand, forcing you to face forward and pay attention to him. You stared at him through tear-misty eyes, absolutely enraptured and lustful, wanting nothing more than him. 

“This is mine.” He growled these words with quiet power, driving his point home with another smack to your cunt that had you crying out and seizing against the touch. 

“Yours.” You chirped back, eager to affirm it, your brain filled with nothing but him. “Yours, all yours. Daryl-” 

Before you could babble out any more affirmations, he took an even tighter, possessive, bruising death grip on you once again. One hand on your hip and the other on your thigh - trying to keep you right where he wanted you as he dove back in, just as hungry. This time he gave into exactly what you wanted, seemingly because your words had been what he wanted. He knew you all too well even without words, and he latched his mouth around your mound with intent, laving his tongue furiously across your clit without relenting. 

You weren’t sure which was worse - the teasing, or him tongue-fucking your clit like he was trying to drive you insane. 

Your hand flew to his hair with the intention of shoving him off as white hot sparks of overstimulated pleasure-pain flew up through your gut, but your muscles curled instinctively and you wove a tight grip into his locks without thinking. Unintentionally drawing him closer and locking him in place as you gurgled out cries of wounded pleasure and he continued to moan against you, almost making your poor clit numb. 

But of course, being as perfect at this as he was with everything else, he drew an orgasm out of you just as he wanted to. 

“Daryl! Fuck! I’m cumming! I’m cumming! I’m - ah!” 

He moaned against you in pure pleasure as it happened, and then he retreated down your pulsing hole to lick up every single bit of your wetness as it freshly flowed out of you. He continued to moan, slurping and flexing his tongue so he wouldn’t miss a drop, eating you like the finest delicacy he had ever experienced. His tongue even strayed down your perineum, dipping into your other hole a bit, clearly unafraid and never shy, not wanting to miss a single bit of your taste. 

You were left panting, desperate to catch your breath, and with your brain still completely out of commission, he stood up, his mind already on an entirely new track. You couldn’t contain your whine of disappointment when all of his warmth was suddenly gone, even his hands losing contact with your thrumming skin. 

“Daryl-?” 

You didn’t have long to question it before you heard the sound of a zipper. 

Not even knowing when you had closed your eyes, you whipped them open to see him shoving his pants down to mid-thigh and pumping his cock in hand a few stray times before he stepped toward you. You weren’t the biggest fan of the ‘bent in half like a pretzel’ position, as your back was starting to ache slightly, but he took the look of pure hunger in your eyes was all the consent he needed (especially with the way your gaze was focused on his cock, the slight glisten of precum beading at the tip). 

He was secure in knowing that you would stop him or tell him no if you needed to. 

And there were absolutely no thoughts of stopping on your mind when he put a hand back on your hip and used the other hand to guide his cock into you, sinking deep inside of your slicked, hot cunt in one smooth movement. 

Fuck - he always filled you up so fucking good. 

“Dar-” 

“All fuckin’ day.” Daryl growled out, tight through his teeth, taking only a single moment before he began to pump his hips forward, fucking into you. 

He wasn’t quite as furious as before, his pace slower now. Seemingly, he had gotten some of that pure need out of his system by eating your pussy. He began to thrust in and out of you at a leisurely pace, making you feel comfortably, pleasantly full. 

“All fuckin’ day, I had to listen to Zach’s goddamn yappin’.” 

Your brain was slowly coming back into function. 

He had gone on the run with Zach and Sasha. 

You thought Daryl liked Zach? 

Surprisingly, Daryl then reached for your shoes and began undoing the laces - perhaps now finally interested in getting your pants and shoes out of the way. You just laid back and let him do whatever he pleased, your cunt flashing with a warm, pleasant feeling - simply enjoying that it was Daryl fucking you. 

“Had to listen to that little smart-mouthed fuckin’ asshole-” 

Daryl let out another grunt, smacking his hips into yours particularly hard, causing you to let out a gasp. He took off one of your shoes and dropped it to the ground. 

“Had to listen to him go on and on about you.” 

What? 

Then went the other shoe. 

Your jeans followed soon after, easily untangled from your legs by Daryl’s deft fingers, making your legs free up to spread widely, inviting him in further - he laid himself down against your body, and you found your muscles much less stiff with your knees bracketing around his waist. There was another moment of comfortable fullness - stillness, as he laid there, nosing at your neck, seemingly enjoying your scent with deep breaths. 

You ran your fingers through his hair, scratching at his scalp in a way you knew he liked, boiling over with curiosity until the question leapt out of you. 

“What happened with Zach?” You had to ask, still slightly fuck-dumb and confused. 

You didn’t know it, but hearing the name come off your lips was enough to trigger another intense wave of that feeling in Daryl. The jealousy, the neediness, the urge to claim you. 

Daryl let out another harsh growl - a sound coming from him that made your pussy leak around him and clench down hard on his cock. He grabbed both your hands and entwined your fingers with his - a fierce, demanding grip rather than a romantic one. He kept you pinned in place, right where he wanted you, and he began fucking his hips into you at a fast, hard pace that was enough to push a scream right from your lungs. 

“He - would-n’t - shut - the - fuck - up.” Daryl grunted in your ear, emphasizing each sharp syllable with a deep, harsh pounding of his hips into your pussy. “About you.” He whispered those words lowly, dangerously into your ear. 

“Daryl-” You gasped, your whole body dizzy and vibrating with that electricity once again. 

“About your ass-” 

He reached down and grabbed your ass - harsh, digging his fingers into the flesh with a possessive touch that made you cry out. He hammered his hips forward and used that touch to drag you toward his cock, fucking you onto him like a fleshlight for a few moments before he continued speaking. 

“About your tits-” 

He reached up and groped your breasts aggressively through your shirt, popping one of the tiny decorative buttons. A wreckage that would only serve to show off more cleavage in the end. Your nipples instantly became stiff under his touch and you arched into his hands - only for the rough, wonderful feeling to be gone too soon. 

“Daryl,” 

“He wouldn’t stop talkin’ bout what you might look like when you cum.” He growled out. “When he ain’t never gonna get to know.” 

It was thrilling, him being so possessive of you now. But you knew that it was so Daryl. Him being angry at Zach for speaking about you in a vulgar way, but holding his tongue - not speaking up then because he wanted to keep your relationship private, didn’t want to claim you in front of someone publicly. 

Or he simply kept his mouth shut because he didn’t want to lose his temper when they had a job to do. 

“He wouldn’t stop-” 

“Please, I’m yours.” You moaned out, grinding your hips into him desperately, needy for his full and focused attention. 

As much as you enjoyed the jealousy streak that had started this heated encountered, you needed Daryl to focus on you now - not on the words of some petty boy who had either been trying to rile Daryl up or didn’t even know the two of you were together because of the lack of PDA in your relationship. 

“Daryl, please. I’m yours.” 

“Tha’s right,” Daryl growled out, his voice dangerously low. “You’re mine.” 

He leaned tightly over you once again, and when his hips picked up speed - you were done for.

...

A/N: Please keep in mind, this is a oneshot, and there will not be a continuation or a 'Part 2'. If you are going to comment, please comment about the body of work that has already been written. If you like this and you want to see more of my fics in my style, you can check out my most recent fic Heaven's Gate, which is also a Daryl Dixon x Reader fic, or you can check out my other TWD works on AO3.

[metalphoenix]

Do you think theres a memorial to the second Robin in Crime Alley? I like to think that even if the rest of Gotham didn't know where he came from that Crime Alley knew he was one of theirs.

Do you think they were devastated when it came out he was dead? I don't think it would be a official memorial or anything. When it was announced he was dead people started putting candles/cards/stuffed animals/food out on their roof tops in honor of him.

Maybe a few weeks later someone graffitied a mural somewhere up high in his honor. They did it in the middle of the night. After that people started to leave things there.

Theres no official care taker for the memorial. Everyone helps out. People who leave stuff take care to clean up any trash left around. Theres a few people who make sure theres always at least one candle lit.

One day its vandalized. Robin may have been one of them but its Crime Alley and he made life difficult for criminals. Maybe someone he put in jail got angry and vandalized it. The people fix it. There no call to action they just see it and take it upon themselves to restore it.

Do you think Jason sees it when he comes back as Red Hood? I think he found it in his first two weeks back in Gotham. He wasn't big yet. He was still taking control. He stumbles upon it on accident. He's not expecting it. He's grateful no ones around because he breaks down. The enormity of everything that happened to him hits him like a brick and suddenly he's on his knees sobbing.

Maybe once he's taken over and the people trust him he'll ask about it. He'll ask why they care about the second Robin. Why do you take care of the memorial so intensely? They tell him. They tell him they know the second Robin was one of them. They tell him how much hope he brought to the people that had none. Do you think he realizes how much he meant to these people?

Maybe someone connects the dots. They don't know who he is but they see how fiercely protective the Red Hood is of the alley and they remember the boy in bright colors and an even brighter smile. They look at this angry broken man trying so hard to do good and see the boy who died too soon.

The next day a mural of Red Hood pops up across from the Robin Memorial.

[aakeysmash]

prompt:

sukuna skipping gym to sleep in and later on does his workout in their living room, using her as a weight when doing push ups, may turn heated hehe

college Sukuna's masterlist

turned this into a college!sukuna drabble lmao sorry!! no smut this time, i wanted to elaborate a bit on sukuna's protectivness toward yuuji :)

You're humming a song from your studying playlist when you hear someone knocking at your door. You look at the clock you keep on your desk near a plant Yuuji gifted you last week. On the terracotta vase there's a scribbled note in the obvious handwriting of a child.

To: baby peach, but no more annoying screams when we play, please!

You smile. He always chooses to be baby mario when you play Mario Kart together because he doesn't want you to feel alone in case you're the only baby character. He's such a cute kid, you're lucky to have him as one of your almost-roommates.

You get up (it's still pretty early anyway) and stretch your back, hearing it pop. You open the door, and standing in front of it is the same kid you were thinking about.

"Hey," you wave at him, a happy tilt to your voice. You look at him shuffling and avoiding your gaze.

"Is everything okay, Yuuji?" you start getting worried. He mumbles something you don't hear clearly, so you make him repeat himself. He juts his lip out, then looks straight at your face.

"Can you take me to school please?"

You raise your eyebrows. Usually, this is a big brother kind of duty: where is Sukuna? Yuuji takes your silence as rejection and starts backtracking.

"Sorry, I didn't want to disturb you, I can just go alone-"

"Sure, let me grab my purse and we can go," you stop him, changing your expression to one of calmness, ruffling his pink, unruly hair.

"Are you sure it's not a bother?" he asks you hesitantly. "Big bro closed his door and I can't seem to be able to wake him up... and I'm supposed to be accompanied by an adult..."

"It's not a big deal, Yuuji. I'll take you in my passenger seat, okay? We'll be there shortly," you reassure him, nodding.

"Thanks," he says, blushing, giving you one of the biggest smiles you've ever seen him do. Your heart melts a little, and he looks at you like you've physically hung up the sun shining outside.

When you get back home, you're not even able to get to your room when you find yourself being squished between the nearest wall and a hot, rapidly rising and falling chest.

"Where the fuck is my brother?" Sukuna grits out his teeth, breathing down your neck. You wince. He's controlling his strength, but he's still a mountain compared to you, and your ribcage is starting to hurt.

"Get off of me right now or I'm calling the police, Itadori."

He notices he must have been too rough and takes a step back, mumbling an apology while still looking at you menacingly. You pat your clothes, making sure there are no wrinkles before answering him.

"I took him to school. He told me he was being neglected by his own caretaker, so I had to intervene," you shrug.

"He did not say that. He doesn't even know the word neglect," he says, sighing. His shoulders drop and he takes on a more relaxed appearance.

"What's wrong with you? You've never gotten up later than 6 am," you ask him, trying to sound nonchalant, walking toward your fridge to make yourself a toast. The truth is, you're starting to get attached to him. In the last couple of months, you've created some sort of bond, and it's probably also thanks to Yuuji and his stubbornness in making you do things like you're a family. Just last night, he forced you both to make cookies with him because apparently his friend Megumi was coming to play this afternoon and "he wanted to make a good impression".

Sukuna, on the other hand, can be a lot. The majority of the time he nudges you to get you to move out of his way (he just does it to see your annoyed face, but he's not going to tell you that), huffs in your face when you say he hasn't cleaned his dishes from the night before, and flips you off whenever you try to have a civil conversation about who's turn it is to choose the film on Friday night. But he's also pretty attentive. It's not like he makes you notice it, but he does feel bad for you when you get out of your room after an all nighter because of your studies. He thinks you're annoying because you're always trying to pry into his private life, but when you're not home Yuuji always asks of your whereabouts. Yeah, that's definitely why he can't stop thinking about you laughing with the boy he literally raised. The boy whose disappearance was driving him insane this morning.

Because sure, Sukuna tells Yuuji he's a brat 95% of the time, and the kid yaps way too much for his taste. He also manhandles the kid badly, telling him he's way too weak to be called his brother, and more often than not Sukuna tells him he's adopted and that he'll kick him out as soon as he can. But you've seen the way he prepared soup every night when his little brother caught the flu in December—he's just full of shit. He'll never admit how hard it was to raise a brother he didn't want at 13, alone and broke. But he'll make sure the child never doubts of having someone to fall back into like Sukuna did since he was much younger than Yuuji is now.

"Didn't sleep well and I missed the gym," he responds, munching on an apple. You hum in acknowledgment, not turning around from the stove.

"You know that pilates class you suggested to me last week? I found their videos on YouTube. I was thinking of starting them today," you quickly change the topic. You know you won't get more than that; him admitting he didn't sleep well was already a win.

"Wanna start them with me, chipmunk?" he asks you. You turn around to slap his arm slightly.

"I told you to stop calling me that," you say rolling your eyes.

"No."

You whine. "Yes, by the way. I want to see you suffer like the men I see on TikTok."

"Come be my weight and I'll do pilates with you today," he suddenly says. You're biting your toast and you're so caught off guard that you start coughing up crumbles. He hands you a glass of water while telling you you're too fucking dramatic.

"What does it mean to be your weight?" you tentatively ask him when you can breathe properly again.

That's how you find yourself sitting crisscrossed on his back, gripping his shirt as hard as you can, while he does pushups and tries not to laugh every time you scream about him moving too much and almost making you fall.

[aliyahwritings]

THE CONTRACTED HEART — Rafe Cameron (08)

MASTERLIST | Basketball Player & Model!Female Reader

Summary: Rafe Cameron, a basketball star, needs a marriage to fix his image, while Model!Reader needs one for citizenship. They may be the perfect solution for each other.

Warnings: smut, descriptions of violence, jealousy, usage of drugs, talks about body image/ed, angst, and lots of bickering. Reader is confident, a people-pleaser, has a traumatic past, and is a sunshine with an attitude. Rafe is a whore, possessive, cocky, and secretive about his past.

Word Count: 6.5k

Aliyah's Notes: i fucking hate this so much. i dont like anything about this chapter but the next chapters are gonna be yummy. hope u enjoy this trash :)

You stepped through the threshold into Rafe’s penthouse, and you were immediately struck by the space—clean, modern, and surprisingly immaculate. The quiet hum of New York City below faded, giving way to a silence you didn’t expect. The place felt polished, with clean lines and a minimalistic aesthetic that was entirely different from the messy and chaotic persona Rafe projected.

The living room opened up to an expansive view of SoHo’s city lights, stretching out in glittering rows beneath the vast windows. Soft, ambient lighting spills over sleek furniture—a large sectional couch in dark charcoal, a glass coffee table with a few tasteful magazines stacked in one corner, and a matching armchair positioned just right. Everything was so... neat. Even his shoes by the entryway were perfectly lined up.

You hesitated just inside the doorway, suddenly hyper-aware of the tension still knotted in your chest. After everything tonight, the walls of this calm, organized space almost seemed to close in around you, amplifying the turmoil still spinning inside your head.

“You can come in, you know,” Rafe’s voice broke the silence, snapping you back to the moment. He was standing beside you, watching as your eyes roved around the room. “Promise, there’s no trapdoor waiting to drop you,” he added, his attempt at humor softening his tone.

You managed a weak smile, stepping fully into the apartment. “Yeah, of course, no—uh, I guess I just… expected it to look different,” you admitted, letting your fingers drift over the cool surface of the console table by the door. There wasn’t a speck of dust anywhere.

“What did you expect?” He grinned, kicking off his own shoes and motioning for you to make yourself comfortable. “Mountain of pizza boxes? A shrine to myself?”

The corner of your mouth lifted, and despite yourself, you chuckled. “Something like that.”

“Thank you.” He placed a hand over his heart with exaggerated gratitude. “I’ve put a lot of work into fooling people into thinking I’m a responsible adult.”

That got another smile out of you, and for a moment, the silence settled into something comfortable. You took a few tentative steps further into the space, letting yourself take in the polished decor, the subtle hints of personality hidden in the smallest details—a leather-bound book resting on the side table, a worn-in baseball cap hanging from a hook by the door, the faintest scent of coffee lingering in the air.

“Here, let me take your jacket,” Rafe offered, holding out a hand. His voice was calm, and there was a warmth in his eyes as he met your gaze. You hesitated, gripping the edges of your coat a little tighter before relenting, letting him slide it off your shoulders and hang it neatly by the entryway.

“Thank you,” you murmured, your voice barely above a whisper.

“No problem.” He gave a gentle nod, gesturing toward the couch. “Why don’t you sit for a minute? Or, if you want something to drink, I can grab you some water?”

The idea of sitting felt almost foreign to you, as if your body couldn’t settle even if you tried. “Water sounds nice,” you said, though your voice wavered as you followed him to the plush couch, perching awkwardly at the edge.

Rafe returned a moment later, handing you a glass of water. You muttered a thank you, taking a slow sip as he settled down beside you, keeping a respectful distance. For a while, the two of you just sat in silence, the soft hum of the city outside the only sound filling the space.

After a beat, Rafe broke the silence. “Wow,” he began, glancing sideways at you, “Tonight was insane.”

You nodded slowly, his words sinking in. For a moment, it felt like everything was too quiet, too still, and your mind began to race, searching for something—anything—to fill the silence.

As if sensing your discomfort, Rafe tried to lighten the mood, leaning back and stretching his arms across the couch. “So,” he started, an easy smile playing at his lips, “not to brag, but I make a mean cup of ramen. Best in New York. You hungry?”

The words landed like a trigger, setting off a wave of anxiety that you’d tried so hard to keep at bay. You felt your throat tighten, your heartbeat quickening as an overwhelming rush of emotions began to build. His casual offer had hit a nerve, and suddenly, the walls of the penthouse felt like they were closing in.

“I don’t… I don’t need anything,” you replied sharply, your voice wavering as your grip tightened around the glass of water. But Rafe’s well-meaning gaze didn’t falter, and the pressure inside you began to build, spiraling out of control.

"Are you sure?" he asked, his voice still gentle, still concerned, as if he wanted to make sure you were truly okay.

The question, that seemingly innocent offer, tore through you like a wound reopening. It was as if he’d taken a crowbar to a door you’d worked so hard to keep shut, prying it open until every raw, painful memory began flooding in, drowning you. Your breaths came faster, shallow, the room closing in around you as you tried to hold yourself together.

“No, I don’t want anything to eat! Why does everyone keep asking me that?” Your voice rose, sharper than you intended, and you could feel yourself teetering on the edge of something dark and manic. The walls seemed to close in around you as the noise in your mind grew louder and louder. “I don’t want to eat! I’m fine, okay? I don’t need anything!”

Rafe’s eyes widened in surprise, and he leaned back slightly, hands raised in a calming gesture. “Whoa, hey… I didn’t mean to upset you. I just thought… maybe you’d want something, that’s all.”

His words were gentle, but they only fueled the fire. “Everyone thinks I need to eat,” you continued, almost hysterical now, your voice shaking. “It’s always about food, isn’t it? Do they think I’m starving, or that I can’t take care of myself? I don’t need anyone to tell me to eat, or to make sure I’m doing it right, or to ask if I’m hungry every five seconds. I can take care of myself. I don’t need—”

Your voice cracked, and suddenly the weight of your own words hit you, the admission cutting deeper than you’d realized. You couldn’t breathe, couldn’t stop the flood of emotions that had finally broken free. All of the pressure, the expectations, the shame—it all came crashing down, suffocating you.

Without waiting, you shot to your feet, stumbling as you rushed toward the bathroom. Your breaths were coming in ragged gasps now, your heart hammering in your chest as you slammed the door shut behind you. The mirror loomed in front of you, but you couldn’t bear to look at your reflection, couldn’t face the hollow, haunted expression staring back at you.

Instead, you leaned over the sink, gripping the edges until your knuckles turned white, trying to keep the nausea at bay. But it was too much—the panic, the shame, the weight of Rafe’s eyes on you, seeing everything you’d tried so hard to hide. With a shaky breath, you turned away from the sink and sank to your knees, the familiar wave of nausea rising as the tears spilled over, thick and heavy.

The sound of your own sobs echoed off the tiled walls, and you buried your face in your hands, feeling the last of your composure slip away. It was a battle you’d fought alone for so long, a pain you’d hidden from everyone, even yourself. But here, in this stark, sterile bathroom, the weight of it all felt like too much to bear. The shame, the desperation, the need for control—it all crashed over you like a wave, drowning out everything else until you were left gasping for air.

Your throat burned, and the nausea twisted deep in your stomach, leaving you hunched over the toilet bowl. You gripped the sides of it, trying to will the shame away, trying to breathe through the crushing weight of panic that made it hard to even look up.

Then the door opened, and you froze, shoulders tensing as you felt his presence behind you. You wanted to scream at him to go away, to leave you alone, but before you could, you felt his hands on your back, warm and steady, rubbing gentle circles along your spine.

“Hey, hey, it’s okay. I’m here,” he murmured, his voice low and calm, completely different from the usual playful, cocky tone. He crouched beside you, one hand reaching to hold your hair back, careful not to touch your face but close enough to keep it out of your way. It was a kindness you hadn’t expected—a tenderness that caught you off guard, that almost made it harder to keep from crying.

“Rafe…please…just go,” you choked out, voice barely a whisper. “I don’t want you to see me like this.”

But he stayed, his hand warm on your back, grounding you as your breaths came faster, rougher. “I’m not leaving,” he said quietly. “I don’t care about seeing you like this. Just focus on breathing. I’ve got you.”

Your shame deepened, the tears spilling over as the familiar cycle took hold, and you couldn’t stop it. But Rafe was right there, anchoring you, holding your hair gently and murmuring quiet reassurances as you retched, his hand never leaving your back.

When the worst of it passed, you slumped forward, feeling completely spent, the last shreds of your dignity scattered. You could barely bring yourself to lift your head, and when you finally did, you couldn’t bear to look him in the eyes. “You…you should’ve left,” you mumbled, your voice trembling as you wiped at your cheeks with shaky hands.

Rafe ignored your words, shifting so he could reach for a washcloth by the sink. He dampened it with warm water, and before you could protest, he gently tilted your chin, dabbing at your face with a gentleness that almost broke you. “Shh. You don’t have to say anything.”

The warmth of the cloth felt soothing against your skin, and the quiet intimacy of the moment—of Rafe here, with you in your most vulnerable state—left you speechless. He wasn’t supposed to see this side of you. This was meant to be an arrangement, something on paper, and yet here he was, his touch gentle, his gaze filled with an unexpected tenderness that left you feeling more exposed than ever.

Once he finished wiping your face, he reached for a glass of water, holding it out. “Here. Just rinse. You’ll feel better,” he murmured, his voice calm and steady, as though this were the most natural thing in the world.

You managed a weak nod, your hands trembling as you took the glass. After rinsing your mouth, you set it aside, still feeling hollow and raw, the weight of everything pressing down on you. Rafe didn’t pull away. He simply stayed close, watching you with a quiet patience that made your heart ache.

Then he reached into the cabinet, pulling out a tube of toothpaste. He unscrewed the cap, squeezing a bit onto a fresh toothbrush before handing it to you. “Here,” he said softly, his eyes meeting yours. “Trust me, it’ll help.”

His steady presence, his calm, unhurried movements, made it impossible to hide. You took the toothbrush, swallowing hard as you glanced away, barely able to hold back the fresh wave of tears that threatened to spill over. “You…you don’t have to do this,” you murmured, your voice breaking.

“I know,” he replied, his voice a soft murmur as he leaned back against the counter, staying close without crowding you. 

You closed your eyes, brushing your teeth in silence, every movement feeling surreal, like you’d stepped into someone else’s life. Rafe’s presence, his quiet support, felt too real, too genuine. For a moment, you allowed yourself to imagine that it was—all of it. That he was truly here for you, that you weren’t alone.

When you finally rinsed and set the toothbrush aside, he reached over, gently tucking a stray strand of hair behind your ear. “There,” he said, his voice warm. “Better?”

You nodded, though words felt impossible. He offered a soft smile, his hand lingering at the edge of your shoulder. “You’re okay,” he said quietly. “You don’t have to keep this all to yourself, you know?”

You let out a shaky breath, feeling the ache of those words settle deep inside you. This was supposed to be fake—a carefully crafted arrangement, a performance for the public eye. Yet here he was, holding you in a way that felt so real it hurt.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered, barely able to get the words out.

He shook his head, brushing a tear from your cheek with his thumb. “It’s all right. You don’t need to apologize.” For a moment, neither of you spoke, the silence settling around you like a gentle blanket. Then, he tilted his head toward the hallway, his voice low and warm. “Come on, let me show you where you’ll be sleeping. You look exhausted.”

You nodded, the fight in you all but gone, and let him guide you down the hall.

He led you down the hallway off the living room, his hand light on your shoulder as if he was afraid to push too hard, but still determined to keep you steady. The quiet around you felt different now, no longer suffocating, but soothing. The weight of your earlier breakdown lingered, and you were acutely aware of his presence, the warmth of his hand anchoring you even as your mind replayed your outburst. But he said nothing, just kept moving forward, offering a silent comfort that, strangely, made you feel safe.

He opened the door to a room on the right, flipping on the light to reveal what appeared to be his guest room—if it could be called that. The room was filled with clutter: a stack of boxes against one wall, a few stray bags on the floor, and clothes that hadn’t quite made it into the closet. It was the only part of his home that didn’t feel curated, and you almost laughed at the mess, a strange relief filling you at the imperfection.

Rafe rubbed the back of his neck, looking almost embarrassed as he glanced around the room. “I, uh, haven’t really had the time to keep this room… organized,” he admitted, shooting you an apologetic smile. “Usually, it’s just storage, but—well, it has a bed.” He gestured to a neatly made bed tucked into the far corner, the only part of the room untouched by the chaos.

A small, involuntary smile tugged at your lips. “No, it’s perfect.”

Rafe’s expression softened, his hand dropping to his side as he watched you. “Good. I’m glad,” he said quietly. He took a step back, giving you some space as he gestured to the dresser by the wall. “There should be some extra blankets in there if you get cold, and if you need anything else…” He hesitated, meeting your eyes. “Just let me know. I’ll be right down the hall. Or, actually,” he added, seeming to correct himself, “I’ll probably be downstairs on the couch, but I’ll leave the door open. You know, just in case.”

What he didn’t say was that he couldn’t shake the worry gnawing at him. After seeing your outburst, and watching you throw up, he couldn’t bring himself to fully leave your side. He’d stay close enough to hear the slightest sound from your room, ready to be there if you needed him. The open door was his quiet reassurance: he wanted to be close enough to protect you, to do anything possible if the night took a turn.

You nodded, a quiet understanding passing between you. Despite everything, despite the tension and confusion that had brought you here, there was an undeniable comfort in his presence tonight.

Rafe lingered in the doorway for a moment, watching as you settled onto the edge of the bed, hands twisting nervously in your lap. You were still reeling from everything, still shaky, but the exhaustion was starting to settle in, weighing your limbs down. He looked at you, something unspoken flickering in his eyes, before he gave you a small nod and turned to go.

But just as he was about to close the door behind him, he paused. “Oh, wait. Here.” He pulled open a drawer in a nearby cabinet and took out a plain, oversized T-shirt, holding it out to you. “Thought you might want something more comfortable to sleep in.”

The kindness of the gesture caught you off guard, and for a moment, you just stared at the shirt in his hands, your heart unexpectedly warm.

“Thank you, Rafe,” you murmured, taking the shirt from him. The fabric was soft between your fingers, worn in a way that felt comforting.

He gave a soft, almost shy smile. “Anytime. Get some rest, alright?”

You nodded, watching as he closed the door halfway, leaving it just slightly ajar, a sliver of light from the hallway casting a gentle glow across the room.

Once alone, you changed into the shirt, the fabric falling around you in a way that was oddly comforting, like being wrapped in a part of him. You slid under the blankets, pulling them up to your chin, and tried to focus on the steady rhythm of your breathing. But even with the warmth of the bed and the security of the walls around you, sleep wouldn’t come. Every time you closed your eyes, your mind replayed the events of the night.

Minutes ticked by, each one stretching longer than the last. You tossed and turned, shifting under the blankets as you tried to settle, but your mind wouldn’t quiet, the unease creeping back in. Finally, with a sigh, you sat up, clutching the edge of the blanket as you tried to weigh your options.

You could hear the faint murmur of the TV downstairs, the soft hum of sound carrying through the quiet penthouse. Something about it felt reassuring, like a reminder that you weren’t alone here, even if everything in your mind felt isolated and dark.

Almost on autopilot, you slipped out of bed and padded toward the door, pulling it open quietly as you stepped into the hallway. Your feet moved almost without thinking, carrying you toward the staircase and down into the living room, where Rafe lay sprawled on the couch, his gaze fixed on the TV. He looked comfortable, one arm draped over his head, his eyes half-closed, the flickering light from the screen casting shadows across his face.

As you approached, he noticed you, his expression shifting from surprise to a warm smile. “Can’t sleep?” he asked, sitting up a little, his tone gentle.

You shook your head, wrapping your arms around yourself as you stopped just a few feet away. “I… I just couldn’t quiet my mind.” You hesitated, glancing at the empty space beside him on the couch. “Would you mind if I… joined you?”

Rafe’s eyes softened, and he patted the cushion next to him. “Of course. Here, take a seat.”

You eased down beside him, feeling the warmth of his presence as he settled back, his arm stretching out along the back of the couch. For a while, you just sat there in silence, the quiet hum of the TV filling the space between you.

After a moment, you took a steadying breath, the words tumbling out before you could stop them. “I’m sorry… about earlier. About… the way I reacted.” Your voice trembled slightly, and you kept your gaze fixed on your hands, avoiding his eyes.

Rafe shook his head, his tone firm but gentle. “You don’t need to apologize, Y/N. Not for that.”

You managed a weak smile, feeling a twinge of relief at his understanding. “It’s just… sometimes I feel like everyone’s always watching me. Watching what I eat, what I do, how I look.” The confession felt raw, vulnerable, but sitting here with him in the dim light, it felt almost safe.

Rafe’s gaze was steady, attentive, as he listened to you, his hand resting on the back of the couch just inches from your shoulder. “I get it,” he murmured, his voice barely above a whisper. “Sometimes it feels like no matter what you do, someone’s waiting for you to slip up.”

You glanced at him, surprised by the understanding in his eyes. “I… I guess. I didn’t expect you to understand.”

Rafe’s expression turned thoughtful, almost pained, as he shifted, his gaze dropping to his hands. “I know that feeling more than I’d like to admit. It’s like… I’m always trying to be someone for my family, or at least… the son my dad wanted. And after my mom died…” He hesitated, his voice catching slightly, and he looked away as if he was afraid to let you see the rawness in his eyes. “I guess I felt like I had to fill a space I didn’t even know how to reach.”

Your heart twisted, a soft ache blooming as you watched him open up. You saw him differently in that moment, the weight of expectations he carried, the vulnerability he kept hidden behind the confident mask he showed the world. Slowly, you reached over, placing your hand over his, feeling the warmth of his skin beneath your fingers. “I’m so sorry, Rafe. I didn’t realize…”

“It’s okay,” he murmured, his voice gentle. “It’s not something I talk about much. But… I guess it feels different with you.” His thumb brushed against your hand, the light touch sending a warmth through you that you couldn’t ignore. There was something in his eyes, something unspoken, a tenderness you hadn’t seen before, and it made your heart beat just a little faster.

The warmth in his voice, the sincerity, made your chest tighten in a way you hadn’t expected.

You managed a small smile, feeling a strange warmth settle over you. “Thank you, Rafe… for tonight. Really.”

He reached over, gently placing a hand over yours, his touch reassuring, grounding. “Anytime.” His voice was low, sincere, and the intensity in his eyes made your heart race, a warmth spreading through your chest that you couldn’t quite ignore. “I know this started out as a… as a deal, but I’d be more than happy to talk to your family, if that would help.”

Your heart swelled at his words, and you felt a softness in your chest that you hadn’t felt in so long. No one had ever made an effort like this for you. You squeezed his hand gently, meeting his gaze with a warmth that mirrored his own. “Thank you, Rafe.���

For a long moment, you just looked at each other, the quiet intimacy of the night wrapping around you, pulling you closer. His thumb traced slow, comforting circles over your hand, the warmth of his touch sending a thrill through you that you hadn’t expected. You didn’t know when it had happened, but something had shifted between you. 

As the quiet settled around you, the intensity of the moment began to ease, replaced by a warmth that made you feel unexpectedly at peace. Rafe still had his hand over yours, his thumb brushing soft, idle circles across your knuckles, a smile playing at the corner of his mouth as he looked at you.

“What?” you asked, noticing the spark of amusement in his eyes.

He shrugged, leaning back a little, though his hand didn’t leave yours. “I don’t know… you just have this look right now. It’s kind of cute.”

You laughed, rolling your eyes. “Yeah, right. After everything tonight, ‘cute’ is the last thing I’d call myself.”

Rafe’s smile softened, and his eyes held a kind of warmth that made your chest flutter. “No, seriously,” he said, his voice low and sincere. “You’re always beautiful, but right now… it’s like you’re letting go of something. And that’s what’s cute. You’ve got this calm about you, like you’re finally breathing easy.”

You blushed at his words, warmth spreading across your face. “I… I don’t even know what to say to that.”

“Say nothing,” he replied softly, his thumb still tracing small circles over your skin. “Just let me say something. I’ve been a mess lately… and I know I’ve been distant.” He hesitated for a moment, his gaze flickering away. “I owe you an explanation. About ghosting. The last two weeks… I know I hurt you.”

Then, just as you were about to look away, unsure of where this was going, Rafe continued; “I’m sorry for disappearing on you. I should’ve talked to you, explained. But I didn’t know how. I still don’t really know how…” He trailed off, his voice faltering for the first time since you’d sat down. “I didn’t want to mess things up, and I thought that if I kept my distance, it’d be easier.”

The honesty in his words made something ache in your chest, but it wasn’t just frustration anymore. There was understanding there too, a quiet sympathy for the walls he had built around himself, the things he wasn’t willing to confront until now.

“Why didn’t you just tell me that?” you asked, your voice trembling slightly. “Why pull away?”

Rafe’s lips twisted into a rueful smile. “I don’t know, Y/N. I don’t know why I do half the shit I do sometimes.” He shook his head. “But I didn’t want you to think I was using you. I didn’t want you to think this was just about the deal. Because it isn’t,” his gaze meeting yours, and the vulnerability in his eyes hit you like a wave. “Something happened,” he said quietly, his voice barely above a whisper. “With my family.”

You frowned, trying to make sense of what he meant. “What do you mean?”

He let out a long breath, like the words were difficult to get out. “It’s about my dad—but it’s… more than that.” His fingers traced the edge of the couch, his eyes avoiding yours as he searched for the right words. “I didn’t want you to see me like this. I didn’t want you to think I was a mess.” He paused, then let out a humorless laugh, almost bitter. “But I am.”

Your heart sank as you watched him, the walls he had built around himself starting to crumble in front of you. Rafe’s eyes were distant now, focused on something you couldn’t see.

“My dad called me two weeks ago,” he continued, his voice tight. “He’s always… well, he's always trying to control everything. He told me I had to come to this meeting with him—something about my career and how I was handling things, how I’m not living up to the expectations he set.” He shook his head, a frustrated sigh escaping him. “But that wasn’t the worst part. It wasn’t just him. It was my stepmom, too. They’ve been pushing for me to change, to be more like my sister. She’s got this perfect life, the one my dad’s always wanted for me. And I don’t know how to explain it, but that day, I just… I couldn’t take it. I couldn’t keep pretending I was someone I’m not. So I shut off my phone. I just…” His voice trailed off as his hand dropped into his lap, the frustration still evident in the tension in his shoulders.

You listened in silence, the weight of his words sinking in. You had always seen Rafe as someone in control—confident, cocky, never afraid to face any challenge. But now, sitting here beside him, you saw a side of him you hadn’t expected. A side that was raw, real, and 2human.

“I couldn’t talk to you because I didn’t know how to handle it,” Rafe admitted, his voice softer now, more vulnerable. “I saw your texts. All of them. I just… I didn’t know what to say. I thought if I ignored it, it would be easier. But it wasn’t. And I’m sorry. I hurt you, and I should’ve been better. I should’ve communicated. I don’t expect you to just forgive me right away, but…” He paused, taking a deep breath.

Your chest tightened as you processed everything he was saying. It wasn’t just about the deal anymore, and it never had been. It was about everything he had kept buried deep inside of him—the weight of his family’s expectations, the pressure of trying to live up to something he couldn’t even define.

“I… I don’t know what to say either,” you whispered, your voice shaking a little. “You’ve hurt me, Rafe. You disappeared for two weeks without a word, and I didn’t know why. And it wasn’t just the silence—it was the feeling that I wasn’t even worth telling the truth to.”

Rafe’s expression softened, and he looked like he might say something, but you raised your hand to stop him, needing him to understand before he tried to apologize again.

“But I get it now,” you continued, voice a little stronger. “I get that it wasn’t about me. It wasn’t because of something I did. And maybe that helps, a little. But I can’t just pretend it didn’t hurt, Rafe. I’m not that strong.”

His eyes flickered with regret, and he nodded slowly. “I know. And I’m sorry. I really am.” He was still so vulnerable, still unsure of what the next step was, but something in his eyes—something raw and genuine—made you believe him.

The room fell into silence again, but this time it wasn’t the same heavy silence. There was understanding, there was pain—but there was also the unspoken possibility of moving forward. You weren’t sure where it was going, or what would happen after this, but for the first time in two weeks, you didn’t feel completely lost. You could see the cracks in him, and maybe, just maybe, you could help him heal them.

Rafe was leaning close, his hand resting over yours, fingers brushing softly. His thumb traced lazy circles across your skin, it felt like a reassurance. His gaze flickered down to your lips before meeting your eyes again, and you could see the hesitation there, the uncertainty, but also the longing.

You could feel the way your body responded to him. The way your chest tightened, how your breath hitched every time his thumb brushed your hand. And then, as if something finally clicked between you both, you leaned in, closing the distance just a little bit more.

Rafe’s eyes flickered down to your lips again, and this time, there was no hesitation. His hand, still covering yours, shifted until his fingers curled gently around your wrist, guiding you closer. His breath brushed against your skin as he closed the space between you, his lips hovering just inches from yours.

You both paused, breath mingling, sharing the same fragile moment. His eyes searched yours one last time, like he was trying to read you, to make sure you were truly there with him, in this moment. And then, without another word, his lips brushed against yours—a gentle touch, hesitant, as if he was testing the waters.

But when your lips met, it was like everything inside of you unraveled. His kiss was soft but insistent, like he couldn’t hold back any longer, like this was the one thing that could break through all the tension, all the confusion, all the weight of the unspoken things. And you kissed him back without thinking, without second-guessing, as if everything inside of you had been waiting for this exact moment.

His free hand lifted, gently cupping your face, his thumb grazing over your cheek as his lips pressed harder against yours. The kiss deepened, a slow, aching rhythm that made your heart race. You could feel the emotions, the vulnerability, the rawness in every touch, in every second of the kiss.

When you finally pulled away, it was only just enough to breathe. You rested your forehead against his, both of you trying to catch your breath. His eyes were closed for a moment, as if savoring the closeness, before he opened them, meeting your gaze once again.

“So…” You began, your voice light but purposeful. “About this whole marriage thing.”

Rafe blinked, pulling back, looking at you with a raised eyebrow. “What about it?” 

You smirked, feeling the words roll off your tongue before you could stop them. “I don’t know, I just keep thinking about how weird it’s going to be to call you ‘husband.’”

The effect was immediate. Rafe froze for a second, his gaze locking on yours, wide-eyed, as though the word had sent a shock through him. You noticed the way his breath caught, the way his hand tensed around yours, and the flush creeping up his neck.

“Wait, what?” He stammered, trying to mask the surprise but failing. “You’re—seriously, you just said ‘husband’ like it was nothing?”

You raised an eyebrow, your lips curling into a teasing smile. “Well, it is a word I’m going to have to get used to, right? You’re going to be stuck with it, whether you like it or not.”

Rafe let out a low, almost nervous laugh, but you could see the way his mind was clearly spiraling as he tried to regain his composure. “Yeah, well… I mean, it’s just—uh, it’s a little weird to hear it come out of your mouth. You know? ‘Husband.’”

You couldn’t help but smirk at the way he was tripping over his words, clearly caught off guard by the casualness with which you said it. 

“Oh, I’m sure it’ll feel more natural once we’re actually married.” You gave him a wink, knowing exactly how to throw him off balance.

But Rafe was looking at you differently now, his eyes softening as they flickered over your face. You could see the way his jaw clenched and unclenched, his gaze lingering on your lips before he snapped his focus back to your eyes, clearly struggling to rein in whatever thoughts were spinning in his mind.

And then, as though he couldn’t contain it anymore, he leaned in suddenly, pressing his lips to the side of your face, just below your ear. It was a quick, almost frantic kiss, like he couldn’t resist any longer. The next moment, his lips were on your temple, then your cheek, the soft, warm press of his mouth against your skin like an involuntary response.

You blinked, taken aback by the suddenness of it all, but a small, surprised laugh escaped you. “What was that about?” you asked, breathless from the unexpected affection.

Rafe pulled back, his expression almost shy now, like he hadn’t meant to do it but couldn’t stop himself. “I don’t know,” he muttered under his breath, not quite looking you in the eye. “You just… you said it again. And you looked so fucking pretty right now. I couldn’t hold myself back.” He was talking to himself more than to you, the words tumbling out as his hand found its way back to yours, his fingers curling around yours as though grounding himself.

You were silent for a moment, studying him with a mixture of amusement and something else—a warmth that spread in your chest, a recognition that maybe, just maybe, this whole marriage thing wasn’t so bad after all. His reaction was unexpected, but it made something stir in you. You felt a little giddy at the way he was reacting, the way he was unraveling in front of you. There was something so raw about it.

“Rafe,” you said softly, your voice teasing but with a deeper hint of affection now. “You’re really freaking out over the word ‘husband’?”

He gave you a sheepish look, a little embarrassed but still leaning in a little closer, as if he couldn’t help himself. “It just—did something to me, okay?” His voice dropped to a low whisper, eyes flicking from your lips to your eyes. “I don’t know. The way you said it… made me feel something I wasn’t ready for.”

Before you could respond, he kissed your cheek again, this time slow, deliberate, as if he was trying to savor the moment. He pulled back just enough to glance at you, his lips brushing against your skin as he murmured, “I swear, you’re killing me with that word.”

And then, almost without thinking, you whispered the word again, dragging it out just a little for dramatic effect. “Husband…”

His eyes closed at the sound, his breath catching in his throat. His reaction was instant. His hands cupped your face just as you had done, and suddenly, his lips were everywhere—across your forehead, along your jawline, down the side of your neck—each kiss soft, urgent, as if he couldn’t get enough. It wasn’t frantic, but it was definitely filled with a need that he wasn’t trying to hide anymore.

You couldn’t help but laugh softly between his kisses, your heart racing from the sweetness of it all. “Rafe,” you murmured through your laughter, “are you okay?”

He pulled back for a second, his forehead resting against yours as he let out a breathless chuckle. “Am I okay?” His voice was soft, almost incredulous. “I’m better than okay. I’m…” He stopped, looking at you with a look that was so intense, so unguarded, you felt it in your bones. “I’m kind of losing my mind over you right now, sweetheart.”

Your heart skipped a beat, the warmth in his eyes catching you off guard. The words hung in the air, a confession he hadn’t meant to make but couldn’t help. You swallowed hard, trying to keep your own composure. This wasn’t the time for heavy emotions, not when things were still so uncertain between you both.

But as you looked at him, his lips still slightly parted, his breath mingling with yours, you couldn’t deny the pull that had formed between you, something that felt more real than the arrangement you had set out to create.

“So… about that husband thing,” you said, a teasing smile curving your lips. “You sure you can handle it?”

Rafe chuckled, pulling you a little closer, his hands now resting on your waist as his eyes softened. “I’m starting to think I might be in trouble.”

“Trouble?” You raised an eyebrow, playfully narrowing your eyes. “Only if you keep kissing me like that. Otherwise, you’re fine.”

He smirked, pressing a gentle kiss to your lips. “Good to know,” he whispered, “I’ll make sure to keep kissing you then.”

chapter nine