#give me that fucking RAIN KISS you promised

[httpsdana]

Angst 16 and 3 for rasmus pleaseeee ! Love all ur stuff

Right Where You Left Me~Rasmus Højlund

・❥・prompt list

・❥・masterlist -> part 2

・❥・who I write for

3-“You don't get to decide when you come in and out of my life”

16-“We're stuck in this endless cycle and I'm so tired”

The rain was loud, almost too loud, but it fit the atmosphere perfectly. The tension, the silence, all of it was suffocating to the point where the sound of the thunder and rain was the only comforting thing.

He stood there in silence, as if waiting for her to explain what's wrong, acting as if not everything was wrong.

"you're gonna wait for me to speak first?" she finally said, making his blue eyes snap to hers. He crossed his arms over his chest, leaning back against the kitchen counter.

"I'm not the one making a problem out of everything" he shrugged, making her anger increase at his carelessness.

"Do you hear yourself? you're acting as if you haven't been the one constantly leaving like it's normal for you to ghost your girlfriend for two whole fucking months Rasmus" she snapped, her voice showing the anger and disappointment she has held in for too long.

"I told you I was busy! I had to go back to Denmark for my recovery before travelling with the team for our match. Why are you making this about you?" he raised his voice, his frustration showing too

"You could've told me at least!" she said, letting out a sigh. "Not just go away and not answer my texts after you promised you wouldn't do that again. you promised me Rasmus"

Flashback

The blanket was spread out on the floor of the rooftop, the two of them gazing up at the stars in silence, before he spoke up.

"I'm sorry for leaving earlier, I wasn't supposed to do that without telling you. It won't happen again" he said, his voice soft, almost too soft.

"it's okay Ras. just promise me you won't do it again" she said, her voice vulnerable, tugging at the strings of his heart as she pressed a kiss on his jaw.

"I promise darling"

She shook her head at the recent memory, as if he hadn't said that he'd never do that again. how stupid was she to believe him

"you're making a big deal out of this. I told you I'm sorry, is that not enough for you?" he said

She looked at him with wide eyes, like she's not believing what he's saying.

Was that really the Rasmus who had promised her the best life she could ask for?

"no it's not enough Rasmus" she whispered, her voice too weak to be heard. "We're stuck in this endless cycle and I'm so tired"

He stepped closer, his hands reaching to hold hers but she immediately pulled away, hurt flashing through his eyes, but he was quick to mask it away.

"and I'm tired too. i just want you to understand me. Understand that what I'm doing this for us" he tried reasoning with her, but his words seemed hollow, empty.

"for us? how is leaving me and acting like I don't exist for us? this is just for you because you realized you're unable to handle a relationship, even after giving me all these empty fucking promises that you could never keep!" she yelled, breathing out as she let out all her anger.

Rasmus shook his head, threading his fingers through his blond strands of hair.

"But I came back didn't i? i came back because I don't want to end this. I want you. i love you" he said, stepping closer to her, trapping her body with his and the counter behind her.

"no Rasmus. You don't get to decide when you come in and out of my life. I'm done" she shook her head, pushing him away and leaving, or trying to leave the kitchen.

He grabbed her wrist and pulled her into him, his chest hard beneath her back.

"so you're just gonna give up on us? Is it that easy for you?" he said, his voice trembling as he spoke.

"oh don't you turn this around. You gave up on us ages ago when you decided to leave with no explanation and come back with meaningless promises. Goodbye Rasmus" she pulled her wrist away, and stormed out of the kitchen.

Rasmus stood there, shocked, confused. He knew what he did was wrong, but he hadn't expected it to end this way.

And as for her, she knew this was for the best, but this was gonna hurt more than the countless times he left her with nothing but her heavy heart.

my taglist: @barcapix @paucubarsisimp @spidybaby @mxryxmfooty @n0vazsq @joaosnovia (lmk if you want to be added!!)

[seapiglet]

Okay now that I'm getting over how much that season diverged from the original story, how horrifically OOC it was and how it was all around just really shit with no plot I find the entire thing extremely funny and NEED a season 3.

I mean he really did it. He really made it some Big Gay Drama straight outta subpar fic.

I may be a disgruntled book fan but I am also gay and had to live through all of Neil's anti-A/C comments for almost TWENTY YEARS so this is objectively a very funny turn of events and, in that respect, I am now on board.

If I don't now get tears and yelling and a Sheen/Tennant makeout scene I'm calling the fucking cops. GO BIG OR GO HOME.

[323cutie]

in this moment i dream with you. | cs

pairing ୨୧ san x afab reader

word count ୨୧ 900

genre ୨୧ smut asf !! and really quite fluffy, established relationship and implied new relationship

warnings ୨୧ hrmm sexual content, swearing <3 smut warnings below the cut!!

author's note ୨୧ ive only actually written smut a handful of times and I always think it'll be decent and then i start writing and get scared But idk san is hot and sweet!!!!! goodnight

18+ mdni!!!

smut warnings ୨୧ kind of praise, dirty talk (ish), unprotected sex, pet names (baby, sweetheart), i dont actually get into it like at all but san is a switch imo, he also Talks U Thru It, cumshot (kind of) (is that even the right word), lovely aftercare, no gendered terms but again reader is afab!!

“Been waiting so long,” San murmurs once he’s finally pushing himself inside you. “Been wanting you so bad.”

Your head is fuzzy already, his words tender in your ear. He feels so good, his touch so soft, better than you could have ever imagined. You gasp out a breath and don’t miss the proud smile on his face when you whimper out, “me too.”

There’s quiet aside from the distant crickets and yours and San’s panting while you both adjust to feeling each other. He kisses you once, twice, until you move your hips and he whines, breaking away from your lips to press his forehead into your shoulder. You wrap your arms around him and roll your hips again, desperate for the friction, eager to taste it for the first time. San sighs against your neck but listens to the words you don’t have to say out loud, pulling his hips back before thrusting his cock back into you again. The air is punched out of your lungs and you moan.

You feel so worked up despite it all barely starting – maybe that’s just the effect San has on you. You want more, want him closer, even when he’s already as close as he can be. Happy to give and take, ready for whatever he asks of you. It feels like a heavy, sudden rain after a painful drought. He finds a pace that suits the both of you, rolling his hips into you and making you writhe, pressing your one of legs up and out and wrapping the other around his waist, ever tender.

“You wanted me too, hm?” He asks suddenly, and you’d tease him for being so out of breath if you weren’t struggling to think at all. You settle on nodding but he coos, giving you a few harsh thrusts as if to say use your words.

So you do, breathing out, “yes, yes. Since – ah – our first date. D-Dreamed about you, shit.”

San hums but it sounds like a whimper and you almost feel like screaming. His cock fits in you so well, hitting all the right spots like he was meant to be here. He must feel it too, if his little gasps and groans are anything to go by. “Dreamed?” He asks, pulling himself off of you to look you in the eyes.

It makes you shy, but you feel too good to do more than flush hot at his stare. “Yes,” you answer, completely honest, moaning when his fingers find your clit. “Waited so long – want more, Sannie, more –”

“I know, sweetheart, I know,” San reassures, his hips moving harder against you. “I’ll give you what you want, I promise.”

You trust him. He moves like he’s known your body for years, and in the haze of the waves of your pleasure, you wouldn’t be surprised if he managed to figure you out so quick. He’s good at everything, anyways; sensual and intuitive, fucking you hard with the most gentle presses of his hands and mouth on your skin. You feel like you’re seeing a brand new world, draped in a new light, erasing everything you knew before. It’s overwhelming. You can’t get enough.

“So fucking wet,” he mumbles, more to himself than you. “Just can’t help yourself, huh, baby?”

His fingers move faster against your clit and you shake your head no, vigorous, too caught up in the feeling of him. Every part of him melts into you like a steady stream, an endless fountain. Too good, deeper, faster –

“Gonna –” you gasp, clawing at San’s arms, his shoulders. “Gonna cum. Sannie, gonna –”

He nods, eager, eyes full of something equal parts fond and lustful. “Can feel it, sweetheart, squeezing me so tight,” he murmurs back at you. You think you can hear the squelch of your pussy as he keeps thrusting into you, keeping his steady, harsh pace and the flick of his fingers. “Come for me, let me feel it, please cum on my cock.”

You’d never say no, especially not when he’s begging so pretty. It feels like tsunamis, untouchable floods, a completely blue scene behind your closed eyelids. You think you’re moaning, going slack in San’s hold and feeling him hold you tighter. He matches your noises, riding it out with you, telling you how perfect you feel, how pretty you look, how long he’s been wanting to make you feel good.

He only thrusts a few more times, uneven and quick, before he’s pulling out and cumming on your stomach, painting you pretty. The world is quiet again, peaceful and righted, as San leans down to kiss you pliant. He does an exceptional job and you follow with no hesitation.

“Hey,” he whispers when you finally part.

“Hey yourself,” you say back. His pretty dimples show in his smile. You mirror it.

“Let’s get you cleaned up.”

He carries you to the bathroom, sweet and soft the whole time he wipes you down. You apologize for the scratches on his shoulderblades and he just laughs, but you see his ears redden when he sees them in the mirror. He carries you back to bed, too, downright refusing when you tell him you’re sure you can walk.

His eyes shine in the moonlight peeking through your window until you fall asleep, nestled in his hold.

[perpl3x]

i neeeddd a scenario written where logan catches the reader touching herself and interrupts to take over because everyone knows that man can do it better 🙏🏻

Helping Hand - Logan Howlett / Wolverine

Summary: logan is away on a mission with the x-men. trying to go to sleep, you start to masturbate thinking about him. only for you to find out, he's come home earlier than you anticipated. Pairing: afab!reader x logan Words: 1,999 Tags: explicit filth 18+, dirty talk, oral (reader receiving), masturbation Notes: this man is definitely a voyeur and would probably watch, but knowing how much you've missed him, he probably couldn't help but give you what you wanted. thank you so much for the request!

The patter of rain against the windowpanes created a soothing lull, the hypnotic rhythm of each droplet echoing through the room. The wind, a soft, persistent wail, gently thrust its way through the branches of the trees, causing the leaves to rustle and sway. It was a night that called for sleep urgently, yet your mind was a whirlwind of restless thoughts, as you lay tangled in your bedsheets.

You found yourself with your legs slightly parted, hand slipped beneath the waistband of your underwear as you unconsciously ran soft, feather-like circles on your clit. The sensation was electric, sparking through your nerves as you sought solace in the promise of an orgasm. If there was anything that was going to make you sleep, it was the come down from an orgasm, the blissful exhaustion that followed.

Your fingers deftly traced intricate patterns around the swollen, sensitive bud, the delicate nub aching for your touch. Tonight of all nights, Logan was away absent on a mission with the rest of the X-Men. Typically, this would have been the moment you'd lazily stretch an arm towards him, his form still and peaceful, showering his serene face with soft, tender kisses. Your hand would snake down to graze his abdomen, inching lower to slip past the confines of his underwear, your fingers lightly grazing the heated skin of his cock. In your imagination, you heard his muffled protest, a groan that was half-annoyance and half-desire, his voice thick with sleep. The thought of Logan, now far away on a mission, left you yearning for the touch of his rough, calloused hands.

Tonight, you were left to fill the void with your imagination. Picturing Logan's defined form, sweat glistening on his skin, the body hair that outlined his muscles, you could almost feel the heat of his body pressed against yours. You imagined his girth, heavy with desire, sloppily and sleepily pounding into your heat, his breath hot against your neck as he murmured his approval. "Fuck, bubs. You're so wet for me, hmm? You feel so fucking nice."

Closing your eyes and throwing your head back, your hips bucked to the movement of your fingers, urging to reach the right spot and right pace. The images and sensations from previous nights spent with Logan continued to flood your mind.

You could almost feel the pressure of his fingers digging into your flesh, the muscular tension in his arms as he held you close. His almost whimpering grunts, muffled by the pillow or the crook of your neck, echoed in your ears. The fervent rhythm of his cock, so hard and veiny, burying itself inside of you time and time again, the slick sound of flesh meeting flesh. The scent of Logan's musk, the intoxicating blend of sweat, cologne, and cigar smoke, seemed to overtake your senses. It was a familiar, comforting scent that clung to him like a second skin.

Your breath hitched, your hand working faster, the sensations becoming overwhelming. You could almost feel his beard scratching against your neck, his lips nipping at your earlobe, the vibrations of his voice in your ear as he whispered his approval.

"Am I interrupting?"

The familiar, gravelly voice jolted you out of your daydream, causing your eyes to fly open. There he stood, Logan, leaning casually against the doorframe, arms crossed over his broad chest, a sly grin tugging at the corner of his lips. His gaze was heated, a lustful look that seemed to drink you in, leaving no doubt as to his intentions.

He looked as if he had a tough day, the remnants of sweat and tiny flecks of blood sparsely spattering his clothing. You knew that his healing factors would have mended any physical harm he may have suffered, but the evidence of a grueling mission was still apparent. The sight of him looking so worn, tainted with the residue of his mission, was somehow alluring. The feral hunger in his eyes as he stared at you through his brows, the intensity of his gaze making your breath catch in your throat.

You could feel your cheeks flushing, your whole face heating up as he continued to stare, unabashed and unapologetic. "No," you managed to utter, the single syllable a mere whisper as your whole body shivered with anticipation.

Logan's eyes never wavered, his gaze a predator's, fixated on his prey. The tension in the room was palpable, a coiled spring ready to release its energy, the moment hanging in the balance.

As Logan began to slowly walk over, his large, commanding presence filled you with a nervous, exhilarating anticipation. His towering figure seemed to fill the room, the distance between him and the bed closing with each deliberate stride. He kicked off his shoes with a casual, decisive stomp on the heels of his boots.

Without breaking eye contact, he climbed onto the bed, his body looming over you, the intensity of his gaze as hungry as a predator zeroing in on its prey. With a gentle, yet possessive touch, he reached out, sliding your underwear down your legs, revealing your wet, swollen folds. "Mm, look at you, all hot and bothered for me, bubs," he muttered hungrily, his tone a growl. He instinctively batted away your hand, replacing it with his own. His fingers traced the outline of your folds, gently teasing your clit.

"Did you miss me today, bubs? Been thinking about me fucking my pretty little princess?" His voice was a purr, the question laced with both teasing and dominance. The way he claimed you, his words dripping with possessiveness, sent a shiver down your spine.

He continued to close the distance, his lips finding yours hungrily, as if he had been craving this all day. His kiss was urgent and demanding, his tongue claiming your mouth in a dance of dominance and submission. As Logan's lips devoured yours, his hand continued its exploration. He slipped two fingers inside you, curling them upwards to stroke your inner walls, his thumb working in tandem, teasing your clit. The sensation was electric, a symphony of pleasure that had your hips bucking instinctively, your body eagerly responding to his touch.

Logan straddled you, his body hovering above yours, his large frame a commanding presence. His chest pressed against yours, the heat of his body enveloping you, the scent of sweat and cologne mingling in the air. His lips never left yours, the kiss deep and demanding.

Your hands roamed over Logan's back, gripping the fabric of his shirt tightly, your nails digging in as his thumb continued to tease your clit. "Fuck, Logan. I missed you so much today." your voice was a breathless whisper, the words muffled by his lips.

Logan couldn't help but smirk into the kiss. As your lips parted with nothing but a small string of saliva, his eyes roamed over your face, taking in every detail with a predatory gaze. "Did you miss me, or did you miss this?" he asked preemptively, the question teasing, a playful edge to his voice.

Without waiting for an answer, Logan settled between your legs, his large frame sprawled out on the bed. He positioned your legs on his shoulders, giving him full access to your core. With a firm grip, he held you in place, preparing to indulge.

His tongue softly danced over your clit, its tip tracing intricate patterns, sweeping along your slick folds. He lapped up your arousal with a voracious hunger, his tongue eagerly soaking up every drop. The sensation built, the tension coiling tighter within you, the desire for release growing more urgent with each pass of his tongue. He devoured you with his eyes softly shut, occasionally opening them as he looked at you through his brows, admiring at how your squirmed with pleasure, your face contorted and flushed with euphoria.

His lips enveloped your sensitive nub, the soft suction sending jolts of pleasure straight to your core. Your hips bucked instinctively, your body arching to meet his hot mouth. The room was filled with the sounds of your moans, the wet, slurping noises, and the occasional deep, satisfied growl from Logan. Your fingers instinctively planting themselves in his hair, grasping at his dark mane. You could feel your own body trying to compress your legs against his head, a reflex to bring yourself closer to the pleasure he provided. But Logan fought back with ease, keeping your legs open, his grip unrelenting.

As Logan continued to move his jaw, his beard began to chafe gently against your thighs as his tongue and lips worked in harmony, desperately sucking at your clit.

Logan pulled back from your heat, the wet sound of his lips parting from your core softly echoing in the room. He looked up at you, his eyes dark and hungry, the predatory gaze softening as he admired your flushed face and the way your body trembled beneath him. "You look so pretty, bubs," he said, his voice a deep rumble, "So close, aren't you?"

His words were a statement, a question, and an admission all rolled into one. The tension coiled tighter within you, the desire for release pulsing through your veins. Your body ached, the need for release overwhelming. You nodded, your eyes pleading with him to continue, to guide you to the edge and let you fall.

Logan's lips, wet and slick, descended back onto your folds with devilish intent. His mouth claimed you once more, the suction and the pressure of his lips deftly meeting your needs. His breath was hot on your slick folds, the sound of his groan mingling with your moans.

You could feel the come-up of your orgasm, your moans becoming more intense, the sensation overwhelming. Logan, sensing your impending release, didn't slow down, his mouth working on you relentlessly. He was one for talking you through your orgasm, but his mouth was pretty pre-occupied.

Your fingers dug in deeper into Logan's thick hair, nails practically clawing at his scalp as you let out a guttural moan. Your legs clenched around his head, your body arching off the bed, trembling with the intensity of the pleasure that coursed through you. Logan, unrelenting, continued his assault, his tongue flicking and swirling around your swollen, sensitive clit, driving you closer and closer to the edge.

Body tensed, your moans reaching a fever pitch as you teetered on the edge of oblivion. Logan, sensing your impending release, gripped your thighs with a vice-like intensity, refusing to let you go. In that moment, you exploded, your orgasm tearing through you like a tidal wave. Your body convulsed, your inner muscles contracting. Logan didn't stop, his tongue and lips working in perfect unison, driving you higher, milking every last drop of pleasure from your quivering body.

Waves of ecstasy crashed over you, leaving you breathless and spent. Logan, satisfied, pulled back from between your legs, his mouth glistening with your essence, a wicked smile gracing his lips after he licked them, lapping up the remnants of your arousal.

You lay there, panting, your body still trembling, the aftershocks of your orgasm rippling through you. Logan, still assertive, leaned up to look at you, his eyes dark with satisfaction, the predatory gaze softening as he admired the flush on your face, the content smile on your lips. "That's my girl," his gravelly voice grumbled before planting a contrastingly delicate kiss on lips, giving your thigh one final squeeze.

Link to the rest of my work!

[ninguitar]

୨୧　ONLY YOU, MY GIRL　˒˒　NY

─── ﹙🎶﹚with arguments already spurred on between the two of you, the light to the fuse was the way some sleazy, no-good guy hits on you. of course, ningning couldn't help but lash onto you, inevitably leading to kissing in the rain.

pairing. ning yizhuo x f!r genre. fluff + some angst wc. 1.1k+ notes. didn't intend to make this so long. oops. MASTERLIST.

now playing ⋆ dark red by steve lacy

NING YIZHUO REMEMBERS THE DAY she asked you out with a kind of affection that just, makes her heart pump out of her chest—the way your mumbled words and giggling made her feel like the luckiest girl in the world. it was one of those perfect afternoons, flowers scattered around the field, as the chinese girl dragged you to the mat, her hands pressed against your eyes while she meekly giggles. the sun hanging over the two of you had only made everything comforting and slow, practically engulfing ningning. all her attention was on you, her eyes flickering to your lips.

and your relationship was perfect, really, lingering with fervor and passion; until it wasn't.

for weeks now, the relentless absence of the chinese girl only made you sulk, revisiting your troubled mind ever-so-often. sure, her voice blares through your head every night, every day, mainly through the phone calls, but you couldn't help but feel a mixture of fear and anxiety. sighing, you check the time on your phone again, the movement becoming instinctual.

9:30 p.m., great, she was incredibly late to your guys' weekly movie-night. your laptop's harsh brightness only makes you huff and your eyes burnt-out, as you card a hand through your hair.

were you being too clingy and anxious? maybe, who knows, but nonetheless, all you wanted to do was be embraced in the chinese girl's arms, her melodic voice against your ear reassuring you. every single crack and sound made your body still, despite knowing it wasn't your ningning.

"i'll be there at 6, baby, i promise. love you."

her words ring in your ears, as your mind forced you to revisit that lie. but hey, maybe she was just busy and got too caught up. why couldn't you just give ningning the benefit of the doubt?

your heart jumps in fear, as you hear the door unlock, making you whip your head towards the door. ningning steps into the house, a meek smile playing on her face, eye-bags adorning her face, that still made her drop-dead gorgeous. the light illuminating her face only brought out her features more, making your heart skip.

"fuck, 'm sorry, work had be held back and—" before ningning could continue, your lips crash against her velvety lips. god, you could just sink yourself against ningning all day without a care in the world, and you'd be perfectly content with that. breathless, you mumble, "it's fine, don't worry ’bout it."

"c'mon, 's not fine; this is, like, the fourth time i've been late," ningning mutters, her lips against your ears, as you shake your head.

"it's whatever, ning, i promise. it's not like you haven't been late for the past few days anyway," you shrug, mumbling as though your words were merely casual. to ningning, it had practically stung like a bee, as the chinese girl allows for a sigh to drift from her lips, already with no attempts to conceal her distaste.

her eyebrows furrow, almost incredulously, "why are you acting like you haven't been just dismissing them and insisting it's fine if you're just gonna nitpick me on it?" she mutters sharply, displeasure flowing through the girl.

"why are you getting so irritated? all i did was just mention that you have been late for the week, so it's not that different from tonight, ning," you sigh, trying to be rational with the obviously exhausted girl. your hand moves to curl around her wrist, "just- just sleep, okay? you need it."

your attempts to soothe her irritation only drives her to become aggravated, as she runs a hand through her hair, meekly huffing. your hopes for the girl to just listen to your words and rest begin to shatter helplessly.

"fine, whatever,” ningning scoffs, annoyance burning through her skin, as she presses a chaste kiss against your forehead, not wanting her irritation to seep through to the point she wouldn't at least kiss you good night.

"g'night," you mumble against ningning's cheek, to which the chinese girl only nods, her ring-clad hand rubbing your shoulder, a stark contrast to her tense behavior.

ning yizhuo was a busy girl—an extremely busy one, at that. she was a driven girl; she knew her goals, her wants, and she was adamant on achieving them.

and being driven meant attending conferences and rather unpleasant parties with the lingering smell of alcohol and cannabis, alongside whatever else was circulating inside the house, just to make connections.

"maybe we should leave, ning."

you reiterated once again, tugging the chinese girl by her arm mindlessly, sighs drifting from your lips. ningning stumbles against you, her hands meeting your chest to stabilize herself with a Yelp escaping her throat.

your hands snake around ningning's waist to keep her upright, "you're practically smelling like booze, ning. why don't we just call it a day?"

"no!" ningning huffs, her face buried against the crook of your neck, before a grin plays on her face, "i'm fine, i swear, baby."

with ningning's speech slurring, you couldn't help but feel wary of her drunken state. knowing how stubborn the girl was, you meekly nodded, pressing a kiss against her cheek, "'kay, just be careful, okay? call me if you need anythin'."

you followed the path towards the pool at the backyard of the penthouse, sitting down on the edge of it, with your knees hugging your chest. your eyes follow the heaps of people in the pool, the raucous noise of chatter growing louder.

"you alone?"

you turn to the guy beside you, an ear-to-ear smirk playing on his face, as he was wrapped in a towel with wet hair dripping to his lower back and onto the fabric. before you could reply, the boy situates himself next to you, his legs hanging off the edge of the pool.

nonetheless you nod, your head turnt back to the illuminating water. "not a talker, i suppose?" his head quirks up, meeting yours, his eyebrows furrowing, hoping that you'd at least have the courtesy to answer.

"not with a guy who is seemingly naked under a towel," you shrug, a chuckle escaping your breath. the guy lets out a giggle at the joke you spurred, making you stiffen.

"it's like 45 degrees here for god's sake," you huff, pondering on how the guy had seemed just so unfazed by the chilly weather, as if it was just regular ol' summer heat.

"i promise you that it's not that cold," he shrugs, and it was only now that you realized that ningning would give you an earful for even talking to the guy, but nonetheless, you shook the thought away, knowing that ningning was probably already corned by flirtatious men and women.

"sooo… you here alone, or with a friend or anything?" the guy drawls, his hands inching closer to yours, making you shudder.

"yeah, girlfriend," you mutter out, making the guy chuckle, "can't you give me an exception? after all, you're at a party."

before you could answer, you felt a slender hand slide over your neck and down to the exposed skin of your collarbones, making you squeal in surprise.

"shit, ning," you grunt, your hand curling around ningning's wrist, as you take a deep breath.

"who's this?" ningning takes a sharp tone, almost offended that you spent your time with another guy. her jaw clenches, and her nails practically dig into your collarbone—though, not enough to make you bleed, of course.

"i don't know, actually" you mumble, unsure, as your eyes flicker between them, watching them stare at each other. you rub the back of your neck awkwardly before the guy speaks up, "holy shit—you didn't tell me you were dating ning—"

ningning cuts him off, "and what about it?"

your eyes snap up to ningning with her glare directed at the other guy, as you suddenly stand up, dragging ningning to the street. before you could say anything, the chinese girl huffs, letting out a heavy breath.

"god, are you too stupid to see what was happening!" ningning looks at you like she was begging for you to understand what she was saying.

"i know, ning, but calm down—i shut him down anyway!" your brows furrow, as displeasure flows through you.

despite the rain droplets adorning your guys' skin, all ningning could focus on was the fact a guy was flirting with you—a good-for-nothing guy, who couldn't even take a hint.

"still- he was practically eye-fucking you—can't you see?" ningning's face darkens, her body growing more tense, as she steps closer to you.

you sigh, rubbing your temples, "ning—c'mon, i told him i had a girlfriend before you came," you desperately tried to reason with her.

ningning only crosses her arms against her chest, her voice slightly raising, "i don't care; he was still all up on you! sorry that i like my girlfriend to only myself!"

your expression crumbles, as you step towards the chinese girl, your hands cupping her jaw. "i know, c'mon, let's just… not argue, okay? i'm sorry, ning," you apologize, before pulling her down to your lips.

even with your drenched clothes against ningning's clothes, you couldn't help but press kisses against her lips with fervor. your hands were entangled in the girl's tresses, noses bumping occasionally. savoring the chaste kisses against ningning's velvety lips, your ears burn.

"you're forgiven, pretty girl," ningning drawls, her breath hitting your lips. the way the name just rolled off of her tongue smoothly had your knees bucking. you giggle at her drenched hair, your hands tucking the wet locks behind her ears.

maybe the heated arguments between the two of you was what kept you guys entangled within each other. after all, easy was boring.

i think of her so much, it drives me crazy

i just don't want her to leave me

[st4rbwrry]

STICKY ☆ eren yeager.

☆. warnings ~ 2.8k. fem!reader, black coded, self pleasure, eren gives us a massage w oil, blowjob, dj on the clit, unedited, kissing, praise, pet names dnt feel like listing, vulgar language, teasing, mention of cycle, dry humping, titty sucking, neck kisses, minors do not interact! reblogs & comments are appreciated.

because this just happened to me and i had no choice but to write it. but imagine eren giving you a full body rub down massage with some shea butter scented baby oil while the two of you watch crime documentaries on netflix. it’s playing soundlessly in the background while the two of you lay comfortably on the black velvet sectional sofa in your cozy studio apartment. it’s raining outside, nighttime nearing. your home smells like salted lemon meringue pie; a candle eren bought for you because he said it reminded him of you.

warm, soft, and sweet. the two of you are cuddling together on the long part of the couch, eren completely pressed up against your left side slowly rubbing your ass in circles under your fuzzy pink blanket. you’re so into your show, sipping on a can of mango arizona, only dressed in an oversized anime tshirt and a pair of pink lace panties printed with hearts that matched the bralette underneath your shirt. he can’t stop touching you. leaning his head on your shoulder, his legs spread out in his gray sweats before his hands sink lower under your blanket to knead into the soft flesh of your hips. delicately working his way up your spine with the points of his thumbs to rub out any tense muscles. you can’t help but giggle at his move, smiling into your hair and biting your lip the higher his hands rise.

massaging your back, hands slipping underneath your bralette as he chews on his pouty lips and scrunch his eyebrows in a focused manner. intent on making you feel good. he knows you’ve been working hard so your body’s been a bit heavy. and you’re dreading heading to work tomorrow morning. so he wanted to ease that stress, as well as the hard-on he’d gotten in his sweats just from the faint moans falling past your pretty lips.

“take this off,” his voice his deep, sultry in its tone and he can’t help it. it drips off his tongue like honey. touching you has his body on fire.

dropping your phone you had picked up to check a text from your best friend, you do as he says, lifting your shirt so you’re left only in your cute lingerie set. eren stands to his full height and clears his throat as he fixes his dick in his sweats. he had to mentally remind himself that you’re ending your cycle and you aren’t really in the mood to have sex. but fuck you’re making it hard looking and sounding like that. you stare with a mischievous grin, following him as he walks towards your bathroom to find your body oil. he comes back, pushing your coffee table back so he can crouch on the floor before you.

“c’mon, lay on your stomach.”

and you’re doing just that. snuggling a neon pink easter bunny plushie close to your face for leverage. eren hums to himself, eyeing your backside as he squirts oil into his big palm and massages them together before rubbing your body down gently. he’s targeting every curve, muscle, tense area. heavy hands gliding across your brown skin with ease. he even uses his forearms and elbows to get those spots like a real masseuse. you’re moaning from how good it feels, shifting in your spot.

eren notices a inconvenience and says. “i need this off too, babe.”

he’s referring to your bralette. you laugh lightly, making a comment about how he’s trying to be nasty when you told him no. he says he promises it isn’t like that. both of you knowing damn well that it’s like that. throughout your princess treatment that you were grateful for, needing it so bad, eren begins to get bold. rubbing his palms over your ass and thick thighs, and then in between. this is torture for you considering your period was a big cockblock. she’s ending but you’re in that spotting phase that goes on and off. and you didn’t have time to check before his little teaser. your hormones were everywhere. being away from him for a full week, no dick, no head, eren’s consistent fucking with you knowing you can’t do anything . . . it’s all pent up. you needed a release so bad. and he’s playing games right now. slyly pulling your underwear down, eren saying ‘relax’ when you get too antsy before rolling and kneading your ass cheeks.

“erenn, stop,” his name comes out airy. your face is planted flat into the couch as your eyes loses their focus and your lower halve begins to ache.

“you don’t sound like you want me to stop.”

and he’s fucking right, you really don’t. you whine, twisting your ass side to side. eren chuckles and slips your panties back up, finishing with the back of your thighs giving you time to breathe with relief. until he’s back again, spreading your legs a little more so he can get into between to touch your pussy. long fingers rushing over your clothes clit, fabric becoming damper from your uncontrolled arousal. how could he make something so intimate instantly nasty? the man can’t focus on one task. his brain switches like a fuse. hissing to himself, he rubs your hardened clit in circles, taking his time, not wanting to get you too riled up. he couldn’t fuck you after all.

your face curls up in pleasure, breathing his name again, your hair covering your view of his face. hips grinding against his hand and gripping your plushie tighter. he smacks your ass a few times, loves to watch it bounce even in the dark living room you currently reside in. eren drags his right hand up your entire backside before placing it on the back of your neck to choke you, not too hard, just enough to hold you still. he’s leaning down, bringing his face mouth to your ear and breathing like a feral animal. spanking you over and over to hear you whimper and whine. squirming in your spot with annoyance when he removes his hand from your cunt, hot and needing more attention immediately.

“okay i’m done,” he announces, rubbing the remaining oil into his own skin and smiling like a cocky bastard. you groan with irritation, shoving your face into your plushie as he stands and laughs like an asshole.

“fuck you, bro.”

“you can’t, remember.”

he’s really testing you. now is not the time to test you. he takes a seat beside you after you advert your attention back onto your show, resting your chin in your palm and purposely ignoring him. titties all out and everything. eren spreads his longs legs as wide as they go, your eyes catching the tint in his crotch. he’s got his arm thrown on the headrest of the couch, looking down at you without your knowledge just to see what you would do. he wants his dick in your mouth so bad. if your willing to do it is the question that remains. it’s not really about him right now, is what your thinking. you gave him the sloppiest head literally yesterday before he had to leave for work, cum and salvia covering your face as you gagged and sucked him off like he’d run away. attempted? definitely. he couldn’t stop moaning and squirming away. especially when you overstimulated him after he nutted, cum shooting in your left eye mind you, risking a damn pink eye for his satisfaction. and he can’t grant you this one thing? you didn’t even want him to fuck you. you just wanted him to touch you.

so you know what you do? you turn your body clockwise to face him, looking up at him as he avoids eye contact and keeps them at the projector on your wall.

“i hate you,” you start with, shifting your hips so he can watch your ass move. you touch his stomach over his hoodie, the man still dressed from earlier when the two of you ran out to get food and came back to get lazy and watch horror movies. not really horror. it was it follows, side note, horrible film.

“why?”

“because you know i can’t fuck you right now, so you’re teasing me.”

“mhm,” he tongues his inner cheek, jade eyes catching your swiftly before redirecting them back to the show. “be a good girl.”

“don’t wanna,” you pout, lifting your upper body to press your face into his neck, kissing and sucking and eren immediately succumbs to you. it’s the most sensitive area on his entire body, other than his hips. he hissed and tosses his head back.

“stop,” he grumbles, but you don’t listen. rolling your neck to catch every inch of his neck with your lips. “stop.”

when he says it that time it’s stern, eren locking your neck in his grasp as he clenches his jaw, dick hard as fuck. he knocks his knees in and out, staring your pretty face down, a smile all over it. unable to contain it, he kisses you. sloppy and with tongue. your hands smoothing down to his crotch to palm the outline of his dick. eren inhales deeply, reaching between your heated thighs to rub your clit again through your panties. gasping, you lift your left leg to give him better access. grinding against his hand as he watches your face churn with contentment.

“gonna be a good girl now?” he taunts, you nod your head that now lays in the crook of his neck, moaning and kissing him still. he’s loosing his self control at this point. your tits are pressed together as you grip the back pillow of the couch and ride his hand, squealing and whimpering. your sounds take over him and he’s soon pulling his sweats to sit at his knees, heavy cock slapping at his abdomen, a clear pearl of pre sitting at the tip.

his hand swerves to the back of your neck to turn your head and push your face to his lap where his dick sat, hard and needy. honestly, your not in the mood to suck dick, your jaw going sore yesterday . . . but for your man, you’ll do anything.

“don’t care what you say,” he shifts up a little so you have better access. “suck on it.”

only your mouth encases his cock, hands clutching his hoodie, cheeks hollowing as you take him deeper and suck hard just like he loves. focusing mostly on the tip because it makes him twitch and you love that reaction more than anything. love when he’s moaning ‘fuck’ or ‘fuck me, baby’ cause it makes you feel good inside. while your head bobs he continues to fuck you with his fingers, reaching inside your panties this time to toy with your clit better. eren comes to his senses and realizes if this proceeds he’s going to fuck you real bad. he swears to god he’s ready to lay a towel down and say fuck it forreal. but he knows it’s not something you’re comfortable with.

“c’mere, princess,” he speaks to you in that low, listen to me tone. you let his dick go with a sloppy pop, swallowing the remainder of spit in your mouth before leveling your face with his, batting your lashes and pushing your matted hair out the way. “do me a favor and cum for me, okay?”

“ ‘kay,” nodding your head mindlessly, eren gets lost in pleasing you again, wrapping his hand around his dick to stroke it while he finger fucks you. nothing compares to when you do it, though. you’ve ruined him, honestly. but he wants to keep it hard for you ‘cause he knows you want it after.

he notices your breath hitching, placing your hand over his when he loses his position and tries to sink his fingers in but you really want him to stay on your clit. you’re about to cum, he also knows because your burying your face in his neck and nodding frequently after he asks, “you cummin’ , princess?”’

“y-yess, m’cummin!” squeaks and mewls stream out of you and he swears it’s the prettiest thing every time you do it. eren latches his mouth back onto yours, groaning as he stops stroking his dick and shoves his tongue in your mouth. your hands have a death grip on his wrist as your thighs enclose his forearm to stop him, already sore.

“there we go, that’s my girl,” he kisses your forehead after, letting you take a moment to calm down before he’s coming up with another attack. doesn’t even give your five full minutes before he’s telling you to get up. and you sulk, whining because you don’t want to move.

“noooo,” you pout at him but he’s not hearing it, grabbing your arms and picking you up to place you on the edge of the sectional. he’s on his knees again before you, dragging you closer so your ass nearly hangs off and intertwines perfectly with his hips. “trying so hard not to fuck you.”

stretching your arms above you, you giggle like your drunk, playfully telling him to get off of you but of course he doesn’t listen. eren’s hovering his big figure above yours, bringing his head down to dart his thick tongue out and drag it slowly over your left nipple, soon latching his cotton candy lips around the bud and sucking. pulling it along as he rotates his head and moans with his eyes shut. you let him do as he pleases, always intrigued when he gets into his moments. as he’s sucking on your chest that’s when he starts grinding his hips forward to fuck against you. the bulge in his sweats rut on your clit waking it up for round two.

“fuck this,” eren makes a pained noise as he tugs his sweats down to reveal his cock again, scooting closer and sitting higher to position it right on your soaked clit he slaps with the tip a few times, dark eyes eyeing you as you bite your lip and moan like a slut from that little play.

eren’s placing your legs over his shoulders, like he loves to do, arching over you so your knees are close to your shoulders. he makes sure your thighs stay closed so the pressure on his dick feels better for friction. he begins to lick up your chest, trailing up to your neck where he laps his tongue and follows with kisses, fucking with you just like you did with him. you’re just as sensitive there. tossing your head back and moaning, gripping onto his shirt since he removed his hoodie, rolling your eyes back. and it gets worse when he starts ramming his dick like he’s actually fucking you. he’s following the bounce of your tits while he rolls his hips and fucks his dick on your sluice folds drinking in the fabric of your panties. your thighs making this feel so much fucking better. it feels good for you too.

“fuck, ma,” eren smacks the outside of your thigh, grunting and hastening his pace, skin slapping and it’s all making your mind hazy. “got me feelin’ like this without bein’ deep in your pussy.”

“erennn, you look so good,” it slips from your mouth without your own permission. you made a mental comment about how good he looks fucking you right now. long hair messy around his face, silver rings on his digits along with spiky or cuban link bracelets on his wrist. ink tatted on various parts of his body. his perfect white teeth sinking into his bottom lip. he’s too fucking handsome. and he’s all yours.

“i look good, huh baby?” he chuckles between a strangled moan, brows creasing.

“unh huh,” you huff out, reaching up to caress his face in your dainty hands.

“you look fuckin’ better,” his eyes turn white as your body rolls somewhat to your right side, eren able to hit it from the side, this position constricting his dick tighter, pounding harder. “fuck, n’ it’s gonna make me nut jus’ lookin’ at you.”

“keep looking,” you bite your lip and keep your face to his, the two of you breathing in each others air. “stare at me when you cum. wanna watch your face.”

“fuck,” it’s crazy what you do to him. because not even a few seconds later he’s shooting cum right on your tummy and it’s a lot, keeps going as he shudders and keeps his eyes on yours like you wanted. he’ll bite his lip off at some point with how much force he’s applying. might even get a headache from his eyes turning white. it’s all worth it though.

you smile like you’ve made the biggest achievement, curling your hands up into a ball and planting your cheek on it, falling back with a dreamy sigh. he’s the prettiest, and he’s all yours.

“i hate you,” eren runs his hands through his hair with a deep laugh, his dick still unable to stop leaking cum. he smacks your thigh again. “fuckin’ hate you.”

“you started it.”

© 𝖍𝖊𝖑𝖑𝖆𝖛𝖎𝖑𝖊. please do not repost, steal, or modify my work simply because it is mine. stealing isn't cute. i'll ruin your life ♡

[ot8xbangchansgirlsblog]

I've just been reading your A/B/O series and it's so so so good. I was wondering if you would accept an ot8 request where their omega gets in trouble with another pack and Straykids are really worried?

No worries if not x

𝕃𝕦𝕟𝕒 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕠𝕟𝕖 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕨𝕠 | ℙ𝕒𝕣𝕥 𝕥𝕙𝕣𝕖𝕖

Warning: Angst/mention of death/Blood/MPreg/MxM

A/B/O dynamics:

Omega (Han, Felix, Y/n)

Beta (Hyunjin, Seungmin, I.N)

Alpha (Chan, Changbin, Leeknow)

The series might traumatize you. I really hope you guys like it and enjoy it.

Summary: Request!

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

run

run

run

run

Her breathing burned her chest as sticks and stones dug into her skin. The branches from the big, tall trees ripped her skin apart as she tried to fight the demons chasing her.

It has been raining for hours, and the lack of clothes that wrapped around her body did not protect her from the cold air.

"Just leave me alone," she cried as her body was slowly giving up on her. The lack of water and food from the past week was now catching up to her as she felt her body shut down.

Her vision was clear. Thank God for Omegas having super sight and smell, but that wasn't helping her at all as she made it down the forest.

They already made her loose enough; the pain in between her legs and womb was evidence of just how much she had lost.

She was close. She was close.

She couldn't hear their footsteps anymore, and their scent was getting even lighter than before, but still she knew she had to keep going or else they would catch up to her and track her blood down.

It was like the thunder in the sky was now overcrowding her senses, as all she could do was fall to the ground. She was scared. Who wouldn't be, but the sound made it 10x worse.

She was close. She was close.

The familiarity of her surroundings made her crawl. If she could just get to the village. If she could just get someone's attention, it would help save her life but even her body couldn't allow this. Her screams, obviously useless as she fell back to the ground.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When Chan felt his heart tighten he decided to ignore it knowing there was no way possible for her to be able to get through the bond. He just knew he was probably being paranoid and his brain was playing with his feelings.

"Where you going, Hyung?" Felix asked, looking at his pack alpha.

"I'm going to patrol the area; I feel something wrong," Chan simply replied, removing his shirt.

"I'll come with you," Felix replied quickly, getting up. He knew Chan had a lot on his mind, and he simply didn't think if he went out there he would be safe at all.

"No," he snapped. "I'm not losing another omega to those rogues," he growled. Felix instinctively took a step back with wide eyes. His sweet lemon scent turning sour, "Fuck, I'm sorry, Lix, for snapping. I just can't put you in harm's way," he quickly pulled him into a hug, making sure to scent him and calm him down.

"It's okay, baby." He knew Chan didn't mean it; it was just that the week had been so tough on all of them, especially him. "Hyung, you now think it's too dangerous to be out there alone,'

"Fine, I'll take Leeknow and Changbin." He gaveup. His eyes met Felix's, and his alpha couldn't help but feel like a failure. All his omegas had been in pain ever since Y/N's disappearance, and he couldn't help but wonder if there was any God out there to help put out the fire.

"You know none of us blame you, Chan," Felix's hand lays onto his cheek while softly carressing it. "She'll come back to us, I promise." He whispered, putting their forheads together.

"I can't talk about this anymore; I'll see you in a bit." He looked away, shutting his eyes as he held back the tears. His hands slowly land on Felix's 5-month-old baby bump before kissing it and making his way out the door.

Felix couldn't help but let a few tears run down his cheek. He wished the alphas could understand that they had no fault in this but he only knew they would be better if she came home.

Once Chan stood outside, he let out a loud howl, and a few minutes later, Leeknow and Changbin ran down the stairs, passing Felix and running away in the night.

By the time they catch up to Bangchan, he's already shifed. His black fur shone in the nighttime moonlight.

Wait up, love. Minho called out through the bond as he tried to catch up.

Where are we going? Changbin asked, panting.

Someone's here; I need you to patrol the territory line, Chan responded with a growl.

Minho and Changbin didn't want to argue with their pack leader. He had been paranoid for the past week, and they couldn't blame him. They had taken something that was his right in front of him. They would be ashamed to watch that happen again, so they didn't complain, thinking that maybe it would also make them feel better if they checked things out.

I'll take the east side, Changbin said before taking off in the cold night.

I'll do west Leeknow replied before nudging at Chan with his snout. Everything will be okay, was the last thing he said before taking off in the night.

Chan growled. Nothing was okay. Not until everyone was back in one piece. Be safe; use the bond if you see anything, he told them before heading south.

The village was still awake, and Chan knew that some kids would be out playing, so he wasn't shocked when he saw a bunch of kids playing near the territory line but he was very angry. Anyone in the pack knew that kids weren't allowed this out in the woods, but yet it seemed like they didn't want to listen.

"Channie-Oppa!" One of the youngest screech for him. He instantly picks up on her, scared. His alpha instincts kick in hoping none of the kids are hurt.

"Channie oppa quickly! You have to see this," another girl screeched; she was one of the oldest. Chan made sure to know everyone in his 65-person pack; it was his duty.

His steps were quick as he made his way to the children. They were circling around something, and he let out a growl. They all quickly take steps away, knowing their pack alpha was just being protective over them.

What happened, little ones? He said through the bond to communicate with them.

"Its luna-ssi! We were going hunting and we found her. We can't carry her, and mom said she was getting help."

Did they just say Luna? as in Y/n? He's heart skips a beat before he instantly shifts back to his human form and makes his way into the middle. There she lay. There she lay. His luna, his girl, his mate that was taken from him. She was here, and she was back, but she was in horrible conditions.

His hands gripped at her body, the blood soaking into his skin as he let out a painful howl for.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

When Minho and Changbin had heard the howl, they knew something terrible had happened. They couldn't even get through the bond, yet they felt all the overwhelming emotions.

What happened, Hyung? Leeknow urged but got no response.

Talk to us, im almost to you, what is it? Changbin begged as well.

y-y/n, Chan let out a cry that almost knocked out I.N., who was at home trying to calm the situation down.

Changbin had never thought he would run this fast in his life; nobody knew, but here they were beating time.

It's only a 5-minute run before their right by his side. When they shift, their eyes are glowing. Anger and hurt is all they feel.

"Get the kids away; they can't see this," Chan instructs his second in command, who is instantly on it.

Leeknow leads the children, who are all worried and crying for their Luna. Who would do such a thing to her? Was this why she left a few days ago?

"Will she be okay?" They cry to him as he holds them tight.

"Yes, hush now. Go on home. It's late," He encourages as he walks with them.

"Chan, we need to get her to Hyunjin, now." Changbin was straight to work. Trying to gather his pack alpha off the floor. Chan studied her face as he carried her.

"Come on, y/n, come to me," he cried. His hands gripping onto her as if it would give her a sense of comfort.

"Fuck Changbin," he cried again. His eyes studying her body. Her bump was gone.

She lost the baby.

✩₊˚.⋆☾⋆⁺₊✧

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[martinluvrr]

NUMBER ONE | KATE MARTIN ( III )

⋅˚₊‧ kate martin x actress!reader

⋅˚₊‧ summary: here we are again, just like the beginning.

⋅˚₊‧ part two || final part || nav

"Cut, thank you everybody" the director yelled out. You let out a sigh of relief, finally this dreadful week was over and you had some free time. After the chaotic start of the week that was caused by literally a media circus, you knew that this was going to be a tough 7 days.

Sometimes, you wished you didn't go to that audition. Of course you were grateful, this was a life people would kill for, but with the good side came the brutal one. After the picture and the allegations came out, your publicist went nuts, she wen even more nuts when you said to her "I don't want to respond". Apparently not responding, is responding, and while she tried many times to convince you, you didn't budge.

Deuxmoi. Fucking deuxmoi.

While you contemplated if you should send hate messages to the site with your finsta ( your publicist somehow found out and made you promise not to ), Kate was the calm during the storm.

The night of the game, she had texted you in regards of the plans, and you sadly rain checked. While you though she would stop texting after that, she didn't, and neither did you. Her name was still saved as 6 years ago, back then , you didn't have the strength to delete it, just in case.

While the comments, the sly remarks, the articles, the posts made the time draining, Kate was your fuel. She was literally recharging you, it seemed like you guys were back like you were once, but still you didn't want to get your hopes up.

"Bye darlin'" a british accent pulled you out of your thoughts, Emma, your co star smiled sweetly at you from your dressing room doorway. You smiled at her and said your goodbyes as well. While the media was raging, the cast and crew made the week peaceful for you, what was a week ago, a funny, teasing, loud cast turned into a supportive, calm, quiet one. And of course, you knew why. You have been shooting with this people for the past 2 years, and whether you liked it or not, they knew you. and when Matt saw your face on Tuesday, news and threats spread around if anyone asked anything regarding the incident. Y/n absolutely adored them.

As you walked out of the set studio, only two things were on your mind, your bed and chinese food. When opening the door, you looked up and went to a halt. There she stood, blonde, 5'11, in an all black fit an aces hoodie on, and her car behind her. In all her glory.

"What the hell are you doing here?" You asked, your mouth hanging open. She stood straight ,a wide grin forming on her.

"you owe me a date"

"you can't be serious" you let out a laugh.

"dead ass. get in" she gestured to her car, while opening the passenger door. You still remained in your previous positions, your body frozen,like it couldn't believe she was actually here.

"Kate"

"Y/n" she replied back " what's the problem?"

"Are you sure you want this...again?" you asked, suddenly looking at the ground, your insecurity was showing. You still didn't know if you and Kate were happening again, and you knew that if you lost her again, you couldn't survive that.

"Never been more sure in my life" She replied sweetly "Now get in"

"But i look like Adam Sandler" you said, an embarrasing smile on your face .

"I don't care, now please stop making excuses and get in the car" Kate said. You sighed as you made your way to her car, before placing a kiss on her cheek and getting in.

The way to your blind destination, that you begged Kate to tell you, but immune to your charm , she didn't give a single hint. Kates hand was placed on your thigh. After teasing you about your 'adam sandler' outfit, we finally arrived in a parking lot, of what looked likd, a closed casino/hotel.

As you made your way to the elevator, suddenly the air became tense. When you looked up at her, she was already looking back at you, you could feel your face heating up, a small smile appeared on her face, and a second later you mirrored her. Just as y/n and Kates faces were close, the elevator door opened and a bell was heard.

Just as you were about to question her about the empty hallway, you halted when you saw her open the rooftop door, stairs coming down, she took your hand and helped you climb. When you were both on the roof, you took a moment to admire the view, all of the las vegas was before you, it looked majestic.

"The view...so beautiful" you whispered, still in a daze of shock.

"yeah the most" She whispered back, when you glanced back at her, you realized she was talking about you. When you took a look behind her, you saw a chinese logo. chinese food.

"I'm in love" You moaned, taking a bite of the dumpling. You heard Kate let out a laugh, both of you were dangling your feet out in the corner of the rooftop. You felt like a teenager again. Her and you were back to talking about the past, it felt liked you guys were recapping, when the breakup came up, both became hesitant.

"Where did we go wrong?" You heard her question.

"We didn't go wrong, we just went our separate ways"

"I watched suits, when i heard"

"Really?"

"Yeah, watched the whole season, you were great, just like i knew you were"

Kate was always supportive of your dreams, not that everybody else wasn't, but Kate was the only one you admitted your dream to.

"You were also"

"What?" shock, surprised.

"I watched you" you shamelessly admitted

"You did? no way"

"Yes way, i'm your biggest fan" You said, taking a bite out of the noodles. Kate laughed when you accidentally spilled some, suddenly nothing was tense, it was back to normal.

When you both finished your food, you hinted that you should return home because of the 7am shoot you had in the morning, Kate insisted you guys stay for another 30 minutes. And it was definitely worth it, after 15 minutes, a firework erupted. and then another, and another after that, and then 10 after that, they didn't stop for another 10 minutes.

Just as you convinced yourself to not expect anything, and this was still new, she had set this up. When you looked up at Kate and looked down at her lips, one thing was on your mind, and you weren't holding back as you pulled Kate towards you and connected your lips to hers.

✩

As you opened your eyes, sunlight immediately made you close them back, as a groan escaped you and you stirred to get away, two hands locked on your waist held you back. Kate. When you straightened your back, you felt a kiss behind your neck. "Good morning" you heard her raspy voice say.

you didn't make it to your 7am shoot.

✩

thank you for reading pt 3 <3333333 tune in for pt 4 soon!!!!

[bloodibambiidoll]

𖤐 A Dreaded Summer Day 𖤐

𓉸ྀི Kinktober Day 2 Eddie Munson ⟢ Voyeurism/Breeding 𓉸ྀི

Warnings: Outside sex, unprotected sex, switch!Eddie, switch!reader, breeding kink, alternative!fem!reader, lil bit of degradation and spanking, 69ing, Jacob’s ladder piercing, no physical descriptions of reader besides her outfit, Eddie & reader being sooo in luv. The kink WAS spanking originally but subby!Eddie took the wheel and I changed it around 18+MDNI

You and Eddie hardly ever go on “conventional” dates and tonight is no exception. The warm September days were fading into autumn nights and your boyfriend figured what better time for a midnight cemetery picnic? He filled your vintage picnic basket you found at the thrift store with all your favorite treats and then stopped on the way for a pizza for the two of you to share. He spread out a thick blanket under a big willow tree and even made you a brand new mix tape and brought his boombox for mood music. The leaves were starting to change, even a few starting to fall on the grass that was getting more and more brown by the day. The breeze that whooshed through the air smelled like the promise of rain in the next few days and the full moon was shining perfectly in the cloudless sky above you. It also doesn’t hurt that you have your gorgeous boyfriend with you.

Eddie looks so good tonight. It’s one of those rare occasions where he’s traded his usual black jeans for a pair of distressed blue ones. His curly mane was a bit messier than usual due to the long, late evening nap the two of you took together so he threw it in a low bun. On top he has on an Alice and chains zip up he got at a concert the two of you went to last year and you know for a fact the only thing he has underneath it is one of those tight black tanks that drive you crazy. He of course has his chains on his pants, chunky rings, and the newest addition to his daily accessories being the chain with your first initial hanging from it right along with his guitar pick necklace. All in typical Eddie fashion. The nose ring he got a few days ago was just the cherry on top of how fucking sexy he looks sitting under the moonlight.

“Quit staring at me like that.” Eddie chuckles and raises an eyebrow at you.

“Like what?” You say it in a sing-song tone as you cross your ankles and rest your chin on your hands while you lay on your stomach across from him.

“You’re looking at me like you’re trying to make me telepathically bust a nut or something.” You bat your lashes at him as you start to kick your feet back and forth behind you in mock innocence.

“And? Is it working?” You jokingly wiggle your eyebrows and your ass his way, playing into his joke.

“If you keep it up, it just might, princess.” Eddie leans down and gives you a kiss on the head before playfully slapping your jean clad ass. A low whimper slips past your lips and it makes your boyfriend give you an inquisitive look that quickly turns into a nearly diabolical grin. “Oh?”

“Eddieee, don’t make it a thing, okay?” You groan and roll onto your back, throwing your hands up dramatically before letting them fall to your sides. “It’s not my fault you brought me on this cute ass date to one of my favorite places, you look like that, and now you’re slapping my ass. You’re the one being a slut.”

“Oh, yeah?” Without warning Eddie abruptly grips your hips to flip you back onto your back and smacks your ass with more power behind it than before. You can’t hold in the little yelp that drowns out into a moan when he spanks you again. “I think you’re the one being a slut, baby. I was trying to be all romantic and you’ve been practically eye fucking me since we were in the van…”

“I just don’t understand how you could think bringing me here in the middle of the night wasn’t going to make me horny?” You huff and roll around onto your back again so you can look up at your boyfriend who is kneeling above you, looking down at you smugly. Eddie’s eyes twinkle with lust and mischief as his hands come down to grip onto your wrists before he leans down into your face and straight up laughs. “Are you serious? This was your plan all along? You’re so annoying.”

“Hey, don’t get all bratty on me now, doll.” Eddie leans down and runs his nose along the column of your throat, inhaling the sweet vanilla cherry scent you always wore. “I wanted to treat you nice n sweet tonight. But if you want to give me an attitude I can bend you over my knee right here, right now.”

Your boyfriend is perfect, truly. The fact that he planned to bring you out here and make love to you all sweet under the full moon is one of the main reasons you love him. But right now? You feel like seeing how far you can push his buttons. You manage to wrap your legs around his hips enough to use the element of surprise and flip him on his back. You straddle him, your hands pinning him to the ground even though you know he could easily break free.

“What are you gonna do about it, Munson?” You grind down on him and let out this cute little giggle and Eddie swears he had every intention of throwing you over his knee and spanking you until your ass was raw. But god, you look so fucking beautiful straddling his lap with the moonlight illuminating down on you. Your hair is mused from having the windows down in the van and your black eyeliner smudged eyes are nearly glowing while your blackberry painted lips are quirked into this damn near bewitching smirk. You are wearing this loose fitting off shoulder long sleeve that shows off your bra straps and his favorite pair of black jeans that hug your body perfectly. The way you’re angled has your shirt riding up enough to show off your studded belt and black thong and it’s all enough to have Eddie nearly melting into the ground.

“God, anything you want, baby girl.” Eddie’s voice is sweet like honey and you can practically see the hearts in his eyes. You’re no stranger to taking control in the bedroom, it just wasn’t the direction you were expecting tonight to go. You’re not mad at it though. “Your wish is my command, truly.”

“Yeah? You gonna let me ride your fat cock? right here in the graveyard? You really are a slut tonight, huh?” Eddie whimpers and you feel his cock harden against your Jean clad pussy as you grind down on him.

“God, yes. Fucking please.” And what kind of person would you be to make him beg when he just looks so pretty underneath you? You stand so you can kick off your boots before reaching to undo your belt and then slowly start to pull off your jeans. You make a real show of it, wiggling them down your hips inch by agonizing inch, turning around to show off the way your ass looked when you pulled it free from the tight material, bending over extra as you pushed them down your legs. Eddie leans over and laces his thick ringed hand around your ankle before running his tongue along your calf while looking up at you with pleading eyes. “Please use me, baby.”

You pull your leg from his grasp in a swinging motion and plant your foot in the middle of his chest and Eddie swears he’s going to bust in his pants when you press the pad of your foot down into him, pinning him to the ground. More mentally than physically but it honestly just makes your pussy even wetter knowing that he could break free of you so easily, yet he doesn’t.

“Be a good boy and take that pretty cock out for me then.” You press on his chest again for emphasis before running your foot up his collar bones, neck, and finally along his cheek. You caress his stubble with your pretty black painted toes before pushing them down on his face, effectively pressing his cheek into the blanketed ground beneath him.

“Oh, fuuuckkk yes, fucking step on me, princess.” Eddie’s eyes roll back and he moans as he reaches for his pants and hastily undoes them along with his belt. He pushes them down his hips to his knees all while you crush his face into the blanket with your soft soled foot. You were fully ready to ride Eddie’s cock until he was dripping down your thighs but the minute it springs free you need it in your mouth. It’s so thick, the tip red and angry with precum that’s glistening from the light of the moon dripping down it and every time you see the ladder of barbells down his shaft it reminds you how worth those weeks of not having him inside you were. Because, god, do they feel so fucking good rubbing against your soft inner walls.

So you kneel down and straddle his face, reverse cowgirl and take his cock as far down your throat as you can in one go. Eddie hardly has time to process what’s happening before your hot mouth is enveloping him and your dripping thong covered pussy is inches from his face. God, he fucking loves you. He takes the hint and laces his arms around your thighs, pushes your panties to the side and shoves his face between your legs, eating your pussy like a man starved. He sucks your clit into his mouth and thrusts two fingers into your wet walls all while you practically swallow his cock whole, your tongue running along the piercings down his shaft with each bob of your head. The sensitivity of the bars on his cock cause him to twitch inside your mouth with each stroke of your pink muscle.

“Oh, yes, so fucking good, such a good fucking boy for me, Eddie. You’re gonna make me come if you keep doing that.” You pull off Eddie’s cock when he adds a third finger inside you before curling them deliciously against your sweet spot while you grind down on his face. His teeth catch your clit and pinch down on it and that’s all it takes a blistering explosion of pleasure washing over your body. Your legs clamp around his head and your hand is squeezing Eddie’s cock so tight he swears he’s going to come right along with you but seconds later you’re lifting off of him and flipping over to kiss him messily. He tastes like you, cigarettes, and sour gummy worms and you wish you could devour him and embed his essence in your very soul.

“I need to be inside you, baby, please.” Eddie whines against your mouth and it makes your clit thump all over again. You straddle him and grab his cock so you can line him up with your entrance and then you’re slamming down onto him until your hips are flush against his. You moan in unison at the feeling of him stretching you out. You can feel each and every one of his cock piercings as your tight walls practically suck him in. “God, you’re so fucking tight, so perfect. You look like a goddamn moon goddess.”

You start to bounce on his cock with reckless abandon. Your pussy is so wet it echoes off the trees and stones around you as your hips smack together with the force of your thrusts. Eddie pushes your shirt up over your head and you reach around to unhook your bra so your tits can fall free. You yank down the zipper of his hoodie and push up his tank top so you can run your nails down his tattooed chest and abs, leaving red marks in your wake.

“Fuck, I’m not gonna last much longer baby, you gotta come for me.” Eddie groans and plants his feet on the ground firmly while grabbing onto your ass in one hand and finding your clit with his other so he can pound into you deep and fast while rubbing your slick bud. It has your walls clenching around him and it only takes a few more pumps of his hips to have you gushing on his cock.

“Oh, fuck! Eddie, baby, yes, I’m coming - I’m coming!” You throw your head back as you let out these pornographic moans that are like music to Eddie’s ears and your tits are bouncing so beautifully it makes Eddie’s cock twitch deep inside you.

“Fuck, I’m gonna come.” You wrap your hands around Eddie’s neck and lean down to lick his sweaty cheek before running your lips along the shell of his ear.

“Give me your fucking cum, Eddie. I want it so deep it will be dripping out tomorrow. Put a baby in me.” And your words have his balls tightening and his load emptying inside of you while he grips onto your ass with his hips raised off the ground, pressed against yours.

“Oh god, fuck, you’re so beautiful. Gonna give you a baby, anything you want.” Eddie babbles while his dick continues to twitch inside you and he fills you with ropes and ropes of his cum. After a moment he goes limp underneath you and you let yourself roll off of him onto your side with your head on his chest.

“Did you mean that?” Your voice is barely a whisper as your fingers toy with the little initial around your boyfriend’s neck. His large hand comes up to smooth the hair on the back of your head before cupping your cheek, getting you to look at him.

“About giving you anything you want? Even a baby?” You nod up at him with big wide eyes and he can’t help but chuckle at how cute you are. Not very long ago you were stepping on his face and now you’re practically melting in his arms. “Of course, angel. You want a baby?”

“I mean - I know we haven’t talked about it really all that much but -“ Eddie cuts you off with a light shush and a gentle press of his fingertips to your lips.

“Do you want a baby?” His voice is matter of fact and his face is serious, but in a calming way. A reassuring way that feels like a warm cup of Apple cider after getting lost in a corn maze. It trickles down your spine and warms up your insides like sugary sweet liquid in only a way Eddie can.

“Yes.” You let out a breath you feel like you’ve been holding for months and his face lights up, he flips you over onto your back and hovers over you with that bright, goofy, signature Eddie smile that just makes you melt even more than you ever thought possible.

“Then, let’s have a baby, beautiful.”

Tagging some mooties who I think might be interested: @babygorewhore @cxrrodedcoffin @eddiesxangel @gri959 @dreamliners @littlexdeaths @myherometalhead @take-everything-you-can @myspacebrat

Divider is by @strangergraphics

[fiapartridge]

♡ how you get the girl | quinn hughes

quinn hughes x fem!reader

summary: after you walk out on quinn, he realizes he made the biggest mistake of his life, leading him to your doorstep. wet, soppy, and begging for forgiveness.

warning(s): cursing, kissing and grinding and stuff leading to sex but no actual sex described??? idk it just gets heated, angst but there is a happy ending!!!! <33333

author's note 💌: i love writing for quinn. he's my fave. anyways, i got a request to do a part two to the "you're losing me" imagine so! hope u enjoy!

read part one here !!

YOU LEFT HIM. And for a moment, the longest moment of his life, it felt like Quinn’s heart stopped beating. It felt like a wake-up call. 

Ever since becoming captain, his focus shifted. His eyes grew tired, waking up before you had the chance to pepper him with kisses in the morning. His arms felt sluggish, coming home later and later, trying to perfect his performance, trying to be a good captain for the team, trying to be the person they needed after a terrible, horrific season. He was trying so hard to be what they needed that he forgot about the most important person in his life, and what she needed.

The second you walked out the door, he knew he fucked up. He knew he should’ve called out for you, or kissed you before you had the chance to break up with him and end it all, or promise to be there, to be what you needed. But that argument—it felt like the end. He hadn't lost you in that moment; you had been slipping away for much longer.

“Hey, where’s Y/N going?” Brock drunkenly draped his arm over Quinn’s shoulder, watching him watch the door like you were going to come back and rush into his arms, saying that it was all a huge mistake; that you didn’t mean what you said; that you didn’t care that Quinn had made no time for you in the months he became captain. But that’s not who you are. When you say something, you mean it. 

“I fucked up,” he whispered, like he didn’t want to believe that it was true. 

Brock’s brows raised, his words a bit slurred but still comprehensive. He pouted. “What did Captain Huggy do now?”

“She asked me if I wanted to marry her.”

Brock released a breath as if gaining his sobriety. “Oh shit. What’d you say?”

Quinn gulped, not believing the words he was gonna say. Of course he wanted to marry you. He wanted to spend the rest of his life with you. He would give up anything to be with you, even hockey. And he should’ve said it, he knows he should’ve said it. But would you even believe him if he did? He hasn’t spent a waking minute with you for the past three months. You don’t do that to someone you love. “I said no.”

“What did you want to say?”

Quinn didn’t even hesitate. He didn’t have to think about his answer. “That I would marry her in a heartbeat. That I fucked up and I don’t even know how to fix it.” That when he’s asleep, you’re the only thing he sees in his dreams; that when he’s at practice, and he sees his teammates with their wives and kids, he wonders what it would be like for you to be there, your child on your lap, cheering him on from the stands; that he knows he’s been neglecting you, but he just felt like you would always be there, even if he stopped paying attention. 

“So what’re you gonna do?”

Walking back into the party, Quinn scrambled to find his car keys, ignoring the questions of where he’s going and if he’ll return because, for once, he didn’t care about what they thought about him. All he thought about was making it up to you and getting you back.

After fifteen of the longest minutes of his life, he finally made it to your apartment. He knew you would be here instead of his, but it broke his heart nonetheless. You always said that you hated being here. It felt cold and lonely in contrast to Quinn’s, but after these past couple months, neither apartment felt like home. 

It was raining outside as he paced outside your apartment complex, trying to come up with the right words, not wanting to say something that’ll upset you further. His suit was wet, his hair shaggy, and his new white socks a squishy mess. You deserved more than him, he thought. You deserved so much better. Someone that would actually be there for you and love you and take care of you. That wasn’t Quinn; it was never going to be Quinn, but the least he could do was try.

Knocking on your door, Quinn shook from the rain, and maybe also from a little bit of fear. As terrible as it sounds, he knew you still loved him, but he was worried that that part of your heart was growing smaller and smaller by the second. 

Opening your door, you saw the wet mop on his head and his flustery red cheeks. He was standing in a puddle of rainwater and his hands were trembling. You wanted to hold them, give him a mug of hot chocolate, and warm him up. Swaddle him in a fuzzy blanket, cuddle him, and never let go, but you were also pissed as hell. Why was he standing here? Did he want to rub it in some more? That the only guy you’ve ever truly loved, that you ever actually considered marrying, doesn’t want you? That’s just messed up.

“What are you doing here?” you asked, anger still laced in your tone. But you felt like your heart was stuck in your throat. You wanted to push it down, but the longer you looked at Quinn and his sad stupid eyes, you resisted it a little less.

“I was afraid,” he muttered, a little less than a whisper. 

You rolled your eyes. You’ve been together for years, and he was afraid to tell you he loves you? That he sees a future with you? That he could maybe possibly want to marry you? 

Not wanting to hear his excuses, you held your hand on the wood, attempting to close the door as he held it open, a plea in his eyes—please hear me out. “I was afraid that I wouldn’t be what you needed. You shouldn’t marry me. You deserve so much more than me, Y/N.”

You scoffed. “And that’s supposed to be your decision? I get to decide who and what I deserve, not you.” Tearing your eyes from him, Quinn felt his heart plummeting even faster. He can’t lose you. “You know, maybe you were right, Quinn. Maybe we don’t have a future together.” 

Was he dying? Was Quinn dying? Is this what death felt like? He felt like he was dying. Everything was going wrong. He was wet, you two weren’t back together yet, and somehow you are even more mad at him than before he came.

Just be honest, his mind screamed.

“I thought that I needed to be what everyone else needed,” he said, staring at the puddle of rain he tracked in. “I needed to be a good captain, I needed to be a good player for the fans and for the organization, I needed to be good for my family, but I forgot about you and what you needed.”

“You don’t need to be on for me, Quinn!” you shouted, not caring for your neighbors that could probably hear from down the hall or the people walking past your guys’ melodramatic scene. “If you just told me how you felt, I would’ve been there! I would’ve been there for you!” your eyes were stinging, sparkling with unshed tears. “But you pushed me aside like I was nothing.”

“Y/N-”

“No, no.” You shook your head. “I think you should go-”

“I’ve thought about marrying you since the moment I met you. Since the moment you met my family and you couldn’t care less that Jack had no idea what personal space was, and that Luke was in love with you so he always asked to sit next to you at dinner. And how invasive my parents were and my grandma giving you those crazy ten-minute-long hugs and always asking you when you were going to give her grandchildren. I’ve thought about marrying you since our first date when I got whipped cream on my nose from the funnel cake we shared and you licked it off even though it was our first date, and I thought ‘this girl is crazy and I think I’m in love with her.’ I’ve thought about marrying you every time we went to a wedding together, not even caring about the actual ceremony because I was imaging it was you and I walking down that aisle and you would start crying during your vows but you’d somehow also sneak in some sort of joke about me balding soon that would get everyone laughing and I would somehow fall more and more in love with you than I was before. 

Quinn walked closer, you let him. “Believe me, I want to marry you, Y/N. I would do it right now if I could.”

“So why-”

“I saw you pulling away. I knew I was losing you. I knew that hockey and my life and everything going on right now was hard, and I didn’t want you to be stuck with it if we got married. I didn’t want you to feel like you were stuck with me.”

You breathed out shakily, not expecting…any of that. “I don’t care if you go on roadies every other week, bring me with you. I don’t care if you have a bruised eye or a missing tooth, I’ll be there with an ice pack. If you have to practice from 5 in the morning to 5 in the afternoon, wake me up and I’ll be there with snacks! If the Canucks tank this entire season or they win every single game, I’ll still be here. I don’t care about any of it," you shook your head. "I only care about you. 

You held his wet cheeks, his eyes closing against your warm palms. “I’m not stuck with you,” you whispered against his lips. Planting a soft kiss, you felt him chasing your lips as you pulled back. “I want to be with you forever. But what do you want?”

For the first time in his life, he didn’t have to think. “I want you, Y/N. I want to marry you, and grow old with you, and do everything with you. I just- I want you.”

Standing on your toes, you pulled Quinn into a kiss, his lips quickly closing the distance. He melted into your body, his hands finding themselves underneath the fabric of your shirt, wrapping his arms around your torso as if you were going to dissipate into a clear mist.

As you backed into the apartment, Quinn kicked the door shut, sealing the world outside. With the living room dimly lit, you found yourselves on the couch, pulled gently onto his lap, his hands exploring the curves of your body. “I love you,” he whispered, wanting to get closer, closer, so much closer.

Meeting his urgency, you grinded against his hard-on, licking his lips. “Yeah?” 

He nodded profusely, already imagining you back at his apartment, where you were meant to be, in his bed, in his shirt, moaning his name. “Yeah.”

You smirked, lifting your shirt over your head, your lacy red bra being on full display. Quinn's eyes drank in the sight, his desire palpable in the air. “Show me how much.”

Quinn wasted no time, his hands finding the clasp of your bra, skillfully releasing the constraints. As the fabric fell away, his hands traced the contours of your skin, a silent vow to explore every inch. To kiss each mole and each dimple, and thank whatever godly entity led you to him. 

"Wanna marry you," he moaned into your lips.

"You obsessed with me or something?" you smirked, giggling as he lifted you from the couch, carrying you to your bedroom.

"Something like that."

[haniecore]

won't you give me your light? [ft. p.hn]

-> recap : you also can’t help thinking of another universe.. one in which she’d run after you, through the rain. like a scene from the one of those cheesy rom coms you used to binge all the time.

pairing : bsf!hanni x f!reader genre : <333 cw/tw : secret alt vers ending tee hee wc : 0.4k approx

“yn-!”

what … ?

“yn you dummy- slow down!!”

as you turn around, you find your utterly soaked body suddenly shielded from the assault of the rain by an umbrella. 

hanni. she ran after you.

“what is wrong with you – why would you ever think it a good idea to just stroll out in this goddamn rain? huh?” 

“i..” you start to defend yourself, “.. just didn’t want you and moka to have to go through this. i’m only one person, i could’ve made my way-”

hanni really doesn’t seem to be listening to you. maybe the echo of the rain pattering on the umbrella is too loud.

she drapes her jacket around you, tugging you closer a tad too harshly. it’s obvious from how she’s acting that she’s pissed.

“..hanni…” 

she merely sighs. 

“hanni.”

her head falls on your shoulder this time. “why do you have to be such an idiot?”

can’t really answer that one, can you? but you’ll still try to make her hear you out, “listen. i wanted you to have it, i promise. i wasn’t being righteous or noble or whatever.

…

why did you come out hanni?”

when she replies, her voice is barely more than a whisper. but somehow you still her hear words envelope you completely.

“because ... how could i not? it’s you. 

… it’s us.

it’s always us.” 

a flashback suddenly reminds you of the “promise” she’d made you swear a grade earlier : that you’ll always be hers. you get it now. that that made her yours just as much.

hanni only looks up after a couple moments of absolutely no response from you.

one single drop trails down your cheek. she kisses it away, softly.

you’re really thankful of how hanni seems to know just what to do without asking any questions. 

questions such as why the rain has made its way to you even while under the shelter or the umbrella. so you don’t ask any either.

(like why for god’s sake did she take so long.)

because this is enough. 

because it’s the two of you. 

you only wrap your arms around her neck and pull her closer. when she returns the embrace, the umbrella drops from her hand.

but neither of you could give a single fuck about that right now.

notes : here yall go. i'll make a series m.post sooon + [m.list] song rec : te quiero - kiof.

𐙚 . regulars : none yet! ⋆

[rainkays]

girl please i am on my knees give us another rain x reader the fics are running drier than the sahara desert on this app

at ur service 🫡🫡 (also so sorry for the inactivity ik ive been taking forever to answer asks but i PROMISE im getting to them rn ily) SPOILERS BELOW !!

A LITTLE DEATH | RAIN CARRADINE X FEM! READER (alien romulus)

SYNOPSIS: separated from rain and facing certain death, how far is she willing to go to save you?

WARNINGS: (mentions of blood/death, swearing, kissing)

NOTE: this is gonna be a rain x fem! reader & will be slightly au with reader taking kay’s place during the scene where she’s being chased by the xeno, hope u enjoy <33

THE NEIGHBOR WAS KNOCKING, YEAH.

BUT NO ONE WOULD LET HIM IN…..

everything went sideways faster than you ever could’ve imagined. it was already off to a rough start when navarro had come rushing into the cockpit, frantically searching for her bag before you’d handed it to her.

never in your wildest dreams could you ever have imagined what you witnessed. the sound of a cracking ribcage and blood splatter all over the ships walls were the last thing you could remember.

you weren’t sure how long it had been when you woke the next time, head pressed against the grates on the bottom of the ships floor. smoke rose around you, the sound of the ships alarms blaring as you pushed yourself off the ground. you had to hold back your tears as you passed by navarro’s body, lifeless on the floor.

it was deathly silent, save the alarms, the sound of electricity crackling as you walked through the hull of the ship. you didn’t know where you were, the ship having crashed at any part of the station as far as you knew.

it was only a few steps before you saw what looked like some sort of snake skin on the floor, the sight sending a chill up your spine. you spotted something you couldn’t even begin to explain growing out of the wall, a step closer before you were pulled backwards.

your scream was silenced quickly as you whipped around, turning to face bjorn. you silently exhaled at the sight of him, glad to finally see someone you recognized. he shushed you, removing his hand from your mouth as he looked over at the wall.

he walked closer to it, lightening prod in his hand, the same one you’d seen him grab from the station earlier. you held your breath, your heart beating faster as you watched him turn up the current on the weapon.

it was over nearly as quickly as it started, the loud sound of electrical cracking and smoke as he attempted to kill the creature in front of you.

you could only stand still, frozen as the creature began to burn him, his hand pointing you towards the door. all you had left to do was run.

your hands shook as you made your way to the door, repeatedly pressing the unlock button and failing. your comms were somehow still functioning, static crackling in your ear as you turned it on in hopes of anyone hearing you.

I WANT YOU TO TOUCH ME THERE

MAKE ME FEEL LIKE I AM HUMAN…

rain had never felt like crushing suspense weighing on her chest before. she walked through the room, quiet as humanly possible, the clicking sounds of the same creatures that had attacked navarro all around her.

she could’ve sworn her heart nearly fell out of her chest at the sound of static over the comms. it was you. it had to be you, right?

it quickly caught the attention of tyler and andy, both turning around to see what was so urgent.

“please, please, somebody help me. there’s some fucking- i don’t know what to do, please.”

the voice was distorted, but she would recognize it anywhere. she could practically hear the tremors in your voice over the comms. she quickly put the headset on, speaking into the microphone.

“where are you, what’s going on?”

“oh, jesus christ. thank god, rain. i’m at some door, the ship crashed in this hangar and i can’t fucking get it open.”

“there should be a key somewhere, okay? just look for a key, there has to be one, that’s the only way to get it open.”

there was a moment of silence, rain attributed to your search of a way to open the door.

“i found it, i found it.”

she exhaled, hearing the sound of the door hissing open, before the static crack of the comms cut off your voice again.

she shot a look to tyler, the 3 of them picking up their pace as he tracked your heat signature. there was only a glass door separating you, the relief that washed over both your and rain’s faces evident.

“oh thank god. please, open this fucking door. there’s some kind of security clearance on it, and i can’t get it open.”

rain turned around, ushering andy toward the door as she walked closer toward the glass.

“we’re gonna get you out of there, okay? just trust me, you gotta trust me.”

rain spoke, head against the glass as you glanced over your shoulder. your heart thrummed against your chest as you watched andy stand still, both rain and tyler pleading with him to open the door.

“guys, please. please, what are you doing? come on, open the door. open the fucking door! please!”

you felt the blood drip from the wound on the side of your head, the sound of metal creaking altering you of a presence behind you. you watched as the color in rain’s face drained, andy’s face stoic.

“rain, please open the door, please. please, you have to help me, okay?”

“you’re gonna be fine baby, we’re gonna get the door open, okay? just keep your eyes on me, don’t look away.”

your chest rise and fell rapidly, the sounds behind you growing closer. you watched as rain’s fists gripped the collar of andy’s suit, pleading with him. his eyes looked between the two of you, your hands pressed against the glass.

andy walked closer to the door, looking at the keypad. you turned around, no sign of anyone in the room with you.

“andy, please, please. please, you have to let me in, please.”

rain looked up at him, her hand on his arm as he reached for the keypad.

“fuck, thank god.”

the door hissed and slid open as you squeezed your way through the crack as it did. you fell into rain’s arms, the sound of the door beginning to close once more as something smashed into the glass.

“i got you, i got you. you’re okay.”

rain spoke into your ear, hands smoothing over your back as the two of you fell to the floor. she pulled the two of you up, hands steadying on your shoulders. there was ringing in your ears, the sound of your heartbeat destroying her words as she spoke.

she grabbed your hand, leading you to the elevator. she silently thanked god that andy opened that door for you. she held onto you, hands gripping the material of your t shirt. she wouldn’t let you go again.

MAKE ME FEEL LIKE I AM HUMAN, AGAIN….

[l0v3tast3]

Older!pervy!boyfriend!price was sooo vfhdhshsg. I loved it.

But he would probably 100% get you pregnant. And whisk you awy from your parents.

god DAMN you anons are gonna kill me you just keep coming up with better and better ideas (☆ω☆) also uwu thank you anon im glad you liked it :3 <<333

obviously, you can't blame the man for wanting kids. plenty of people do, plenty of people don't, and there's nothing wrong with either. so when he watches you coo at a baby that you pass by while out walking together, you shouldn't be surprised that as soon as you're back home john is pressing your legs into your chest to dig his cock that much deeper into you.

he's like a man possessed; you'll end up a babbling mess, weakly pushing at his chest and scratching at his arms, trying desperately to form the words to ask him for a break. john bends down to kiss your drool-covered lips and wipe away the tears of overstimulation from your cheeks. he murmurs soothingly that you're doing so good, that you'll look so beautiful with his baby, that he'll take such good care of everything, such good care of you.

john's hips slow their assault on yours and melt into a near-hypnotizing rock back and forth as a way of giving you a break. "already so gorgeous, how am i gonna handle you carrying my child, hm? y'think you're already pregnant, darling? mm, i know you're tired, i know sweetheart, we just gotta make sure. jus' one more, promise, bein' such a good girl f'me."

of course it's not "just one more". never mind the fact that he's in his late thirties and most men his age would have probably pulled several muscles by now. never mind the fact that he's cumming in you, buried as deep as he possibly can be inside you for the fourth time that night. none of that matters because the image of your belly round and your tits swollen and heavy with milk, you asking him for help because they're just so sore makes him feel drunk.

and sure enough, a couple weeks later when your period is late, the pregnancy test you take with a shaking leg comes up positive. john nearly cries from happiness when you tell him; he's over the moon, pretty much worshipping you, raining kisses all over your face and neck and hugging you and promising you everything you'd ever want and need. your parents don't take it nearly as well, so you end up moving in with him, to his even greater delight (he's already setting up the nursery by the time you manage to get all your stuff out of your old room).

john damn near makes the call to take a leave of absence before you even take the test, no doubt about it. he makes good on his promises and gets you everything you even mention you're thinking about (sometimes you think he's psychic because he'll get stuff you like before you even say anything about it). you'll never have to lift a finger. he claims it's so you don't hurt the baby, but he's literally taking plates out of your hands to put back in the cupboards when you're still in your first trimester.

when you start showing, john just goes fucking crazy. of course he restrains himself, but thank god your hormones are making you more horny too because the physical proof of you growing his child, your belly swelling and your breasts steadily growing heavier makes him feel like a teenager discovering porn again, constantly fucking horny for you.

tl;dr, john price will breed you literally as soon as you even give a hint of wanting/liking kids

[lalunanymph]

𝐎𝐇 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘, 𝐌𝐘 𝐁𝐀𝐁𝐘 — bachira. m

𓆩ᥫ᭡𓆪 after his triumphant return to tokyo following the exhilarating world cup season, bachira stumbles upon a startling revelation involving his ex-fwb that would change his life forever.

tw. fwb!reader, fem!reader, pro-player!bachira, baby d(a)ddy!bachira is 21 here, unprotected s(e)x, pregnancy, language, dacryphilia, size kink, angst, misunderstandings, mentions of alcohol, mentions of food, petnames (mama, princess, baby, etc), daddy kink, bachira being bachira, MDNI ⋆ ★ for the lovely @j1ngyuans who provided me such wonderful insight to bachi’s character and helped motivate this fic along <33

Rain glimmered off the window pane, highlighting his golden-hued eyes. The circles etched onto them were nothing compared to the purple bruising his collarbones from your teeth.

Those same eyes roamed over your bare spine, curling within the cave of his arms. Despite the late hour and the reality of an early morning flight, Bachira couldn’t find it in himself to walk away.

Your warmth intoxicated him to stay for a few more seconds, caught in the trap of your vanilla-scented hair and sleep-heavy features. 

Meguru had promised himself he would stop this last week. Then, he found himself in front of your apartment door, and the next day, in between your sheets. He let it happen three more times before his brain caught up and he remembered the event circled on his calendar. 

The flight he had to take which would place 3,000 miles of distance between you two. 

But, that was last week. Now, he was a man riddled with splitting emotions. Leave or stay; fight or fly?

Meguru sighed, and the minute movement caught your attention. 

“Megu-chan?” 

“Hmm?” 

You looked down at your laced fingers with his, and Bachira had to sneak a kiss onto your forehead. You were too adorable for your own good. 

“How long will you be in Germany?” 

Bachira liked to believe he had a hold on this situation; that he wouldn’t quote unquote catch feelings. He had nearly tackled Rachi for teasing him when the dumb blonde saw your name flashing across his phone screen. Isagi smiled, but didn’t say much when his affairs came to light. The rest of the team thought it was funny he had found someone who could tolerate him, much less sleep with him three times in a week. 

But, the young striker was coming to terms that you weren’t a normal woman. 

No one else could stand his endless rantings about football, his tendency to forget why he stepped into a room in the first place or his strange sleeping habits. 

No one else but you. 

Meguru traces his thumb across your knuckles, contemplating how soft they felt under his touch. 

“Just for three months, princess.” A grin tugged on his lips. “Why? Miss me already?” 

You give him a look and roll your eyes. “No.” 

“Doesn’t sound convincing.” 

He felt your smaller fingers tangling in his long locks, tugging on the bleached strands. “Not convincing? That’s not true, either.”

You were an enigma he couldn’t wrap his mind around. 

Smart and independent, you held your own in a fast-paced job and rented a pretty sweet apartment in the heart of Azabu. Bachira thought you must’ve been fucked in the head to let some random soccer player onto your radar, much less your home. But, one look at him from across the bar must’ve caught your attention. 

You offered to buy him a drink, and within a few hours, he had you pressed into your own silk sheets, crying out his name.

It didn’t stop there. He secretly added your number into his phone, and texted you the next day, offering to buy you dinner. Part of him thought you would be weirded out by his forwardness. You weren’t. 

The next night, he took you to Nobu for a ridiculously priced omakase dinner and fucked you in the back of his Mercedes till the windows shook and you squirted all over him. 

As quirky and outlandish as he was, Bachira Meguru was a gentleman. 

His mother always told him to be nice to girls, even if they weren’t his girlfriend. Bachira took her lessons to heart and offered to pay for everything; your Ubers to his place, the midnight takeout you both would order after every session, and the condoms he would forget in his back pocket the moment he saw you standing by his front door in a short skirt. 

Meguru didn’t need his teammates to tell him that he was crazy. Every time he found himself sprawled in your bed, the taste of you heavy on his tongue, your touch searing through his skin, he thought about the next few months. 

Why the fuck would you start a relationship if you knew you were going to be drafted for a season in fucking Germany? 

Bachira had argued that it wasn’t a relationship. 

When Isagi pressed him on what type of connection you both had, he clammed up. 

A first for the usually outspoken, carefree young man. 

Kunigami had blinked. Raichi guffawed loudly, almost making the windows shake with his laughter.

“Fuck. Our Bachira has a little piece of ass on the side!” 

Friends with benefits. Meguru had never heard of that term before. Granted, he didn’t have many friends, much less any of them that came with benefits.

But, he found that he liked your company. Liked when you snorted too hard at one of his jokes or whined for him to help take out the trash. He grew fond of your fingers scratching his scalp lightly or how you always wore his shirts when you went to collect the delivered food from your front door. 

It was why his tongue suddenly felt too heavy when he had to reply to your question. His eyes darted to the mark he left on your shoulder, and he touched it absentmindedly.

“Tomorrow morning.” 

“Oh.”

You blinked. Bachira drank you in; really took his time to absorb you in your entirety.

There was a smudge of your mascara underneath your left eye, and your lipstick was stained with him. The dress you wore was shoved somewhere underneath the bed, probably kicked to the side in a rush of passion, and you were clad in only your bra. He tugged at the strap, fighting back the urge to see you completely bare.

He had to get his last hit of you, even if it couldn’t fill that strange, you-shaped hole underneath his ribcage.

Gently unclasping the last article of clothing, he threw it to the floor. You squeaked, drawing your bare hands to your breasts to cover them. But, he clicked his tongue, batting them aside. 

Years of training to be a pro-player and a diet rich in protein and soccer fanaticism helped him shoot up past the six foot mark and he could’ve almost rivalled Nagi in the height department. His shoulders had broadened, pecs firming up and back becoming defined from endless days of training. 

On top of him, you felt as light as a feather. A doll that was tinier compared to his larger build. 

And Bachira loved it. 

He loved pinning you down onto the mattress, licking your tears and cooing at you to take him. He loved it when had a slight limp the next day, or when you winced and squeezed your thighs a little from the chaffing. It made the monster in him prickle with pride.

Your glossy eyes met his, and you hiccuped at the feeling of him breaching past your fluttering hole. After three rounds, you were still as tight as when the evening started. Bachira grinned, palming your breasts and slapping them a little, watching the fat jiggle.

“Pretty, pretty baby is so warm and wet f’me.” You shivered at his words, bracing your hands on his shoulders as he guided your hips downward. Trying to get you to bottom out. “Good girl,” he drawled, kissing your wet cheeks. “Lookie, I’m almost in! You can finally fit me. Heh, took you—what? Two rounds? But, I’m only halfway through. Am I still too big for you?” 

You gritted your teeth, turning your face away. He felt your walls clamping down on him in humiliation, and his sick grin grew.

“S-Shut up.” 

Bachira tsked and tried to help you relax by gently rubbing his thumb on your tender clit. The shot of arousal helped to lubricate his cock more, your juices trickling down his stiff length. “Mouthy. And Meguru is trying to help you, too. So ungrateful.”

Hot, fire pain exploded across your left ass cheek, and you cried out, clenching down harder on him. 

“Mhmph—Meguru!” 

“Yeah,” his breathing got heavier, golden eyes hooded. “Mhm, that’s right. Say my name, baby.”

His thumb circled your nub frantically, desperate to get you unravelling. Your mewls touched his hot ears, and he felt you shudder on top of him. In a short second, you clamped down, choking his dick and Bachira groaned.

“Pretty girl,” he whispered while you were in the throes of your orgasm. “Cumming like a perfect slut for Meguru.”

He flipped you onto your back, taking both of your hands in his and breaching past your halfway stretched hole. Still sensitive from his previous treatment, you shuddered and wailed, back arched till only the crown of your head was touching the mattress.

“Megu—“

He sank into the hilt. Bachira set a pace that had you moaning his name. Your tits jiggled lewdly in his face, nipples hard and circling to graze the hard planes of his chest. You closed your eyes and he growled. “Open them. Look at me.”

You drank in the darkness seeping through his golden orbs with shameless need. Bachira’s clipped thrusts and sturdy hips slapping into yours filled the air with wet squelches and your airy moans. You were close again; he felt your thighs clench around his waist.

Unable to stop himself, Bachira gathered your ass cheeks in his bigger palms, gripping and spreading them so his cock could pound deeper and harder inside of you. The change in angle made your toes curl, and your breathing became both heavier and airier at the same time.

You curled your fingers with his, tightening your grip on his hands. Bachira brought one wrist to his lips, kissing the soft skin there.

“Cum for me, baby.”

Meguru watched the line of your throat constrict, your shoulders twitch and thighs tremble. He felt you sucking him in, unable to let him go; desperate to cling onto him with a vengeance. You shattered with such pleasurable desperation it was like a work of erotic art coming to life.

His own orgasm hit him like a truck to the face; Bachira dug his heels into the bed, lifting his hips up so his cock could breach you deeper. The hot flow of his seed stained your insides, lodging deep past your cervix. His head was spinning, and the smell of you burned his nose. Sweet vanilla and skin filled his open mouth, your weight pressing sweetly into every nook and crevice of his body.

“Fuck,” he groaned. “So good.”

You mumbled his name, and the garish green light of your digital clock highlighted the dip in your brow; the fluttering sleepiness of your eyes closing shut. Bachira waited until your breathing evened out.

He picked himself from your embrace and kissed your hair. Intermittently, he would glance up at you as he slid his pants on and buttoned his shirt up. But, you remained asleep, curled into a small ball with your head on his designated pillow. Bachira doesn’t want to let sentimentality linger for too long on his already conflicted soul, so he gave you one last kiss on your forehead before departing out your door.

Speeding out of your life for the last time.

As you dwelled in dreamland, he arrived at the airport, half an hour late and with his hair sticking out in odd ends. His teammates snickered when they saw him, but they didn't ask where he was or who he spent his last moments in Japan with.

Bachira told himself that it was part of the charm of being in a mutually beneficial situationship. You got him off and he got you off in equal reward. 

But, as the plane took off and Raichi’s grumbles for good food service rattled in his ear, he couldn’t help himself from turning his neck slightly to the right.

Trying to catch a glimpse of your red-tiled apartment roof from 5,000 feet in the air before the clouds and frost swirled over his window, blocking his sights.

Returning back to Japan after three months shouldn’t scare him, but it did.

Bachira doesn’t know what to expect when he comes back to his homeland. He barely had the time to dwell on it when the doors opened and Ego was ushering them out into the gateway, the European Cup tucked comfortably under his arm; safely wrapped and whose silhouette was an unmistakable win for Japan.

Hoards of screaming fans welcome them back with flashing cameras and banners. Local paparazzi flocked to them with questions about the next season. He stood there as reporter after reporter interviewed Isagi, and occasionally trailed the mic on his media-trained coach who promised the nation of more wins to come.

His mother greeted him at the airport arrival, and Bachira pretended not to feel a smidgen of disappointment when squealing girls would run towards their boyfriends, engulfing them in large hugs and sweet smiles. It truly was funny how he hadn’t thought of you much throughout the long, gruelling weeks in Germany’s winter, but the very second he arrived back home, you were at the forefront of his mind.

Yuu was sweet and patient when her son returned her questions with sluggish exhaustion. She didn’t comment when he staggered into his bedroom, and fell asleep in his crumpled clothes; her poor, sleepy soccer star. 

The next morning, his mother left him a note, telling him that she was out for the day to meet with an art curator. Lonely, restless and bored, he decided to help his mom with the groceries and take her car down to the closest mart in their neighbourhood.

Bachira didn’t expect anyone to recognise him from his newfound fame, not when he reached the car park and all he could see were milling mothers and elderly people scrutinising their potential purchases in hand. The cold air stung his bare hands when he reached for a trolley, pushing it down dreary aisles while flickering his attention to the list his mother had set down on the dining table the night before.

Ka-san would be happy I crossed this off the list for her. Buoyed with the thought of his mother’s grateful smile, Bachira almost missed a familiar face walking down the bread aisle. It was when he almost crashed his trolley into a stranger’s cart that he glanced up, about to open his mouth and apologise when he saw you.

Except, you’re not exactly how he remembered you.

For one, your coat was much too large, and your dark circles were way too pronounced to be considered normal.

And secondly, your palm was protectively pressed onto your belly. A belly that was swollen and protruding. Unmistakably pregnant. 

Bachira inhaled sharply. Before he could call out a greeting, you mumbled a hasty apology and swung your cart from his path, hurrying down the aisle. 

Bewildered, Bachira craned his neck around, wondering if you had forgotten who he was. But, you didn’t. You surely couldn’t. Because you were rushing to pay for your things, and in the split second it sank in that you were fumbling for your coins, did it hit him that he was supposed to say something to you.

Why are you pregnant?

Whose child is that?

Do you not recognise me?

Did you not miss me?

“Hey, wait!” His desperate voice punctuated the frosty air of the car park. 

You hurried off faster when you heard him, trying to evade his presence. But, Bachira was faster and taller and you were physically at a disadvantage from your heavy belly. He caught up with you in no time, and reached for your elbow. You squeaked, almost dropping your bag of groceries when you felt his long fingers encircling your arm.

“Meguru—“

“Why were you running away from me?”

This close, he noticed the snowflakes hanging off the ends of your lashes; how your skin glowed softly away from the harshness of the grocery store’s fluorescent lights.

You stuttered and flushed like you were caught in a lie. “I-I wasn’t!” Curling one hand on your stomach, you missed how his eyes flickered towards that minute movement. In his fit of panic, Bachira had chased after you without completing his groceries, cheeks ruddy and hot from the sharp cold. A part of him couldn’t believe you were standing here; physically right in front of him. 

Was he still dreaming? What were the odds of bumping into the very same person you were just thinking of the night before?

A miracle. That’s what it was.

But, you looked like the sight of him was nothing short of a nightmare.

Unable to hold his gaze, you shifted from one foot to another. Bachira grabbed the heavy bag you were gripping tight to your chest and encouraged you to let him carry it with a gentle tug. You unknowingly release your grip on the paper bag, shifting your eyes to your feet. 

He had to break the silence. He had to get some answers.

“Congratulations on the pregnancy,” he muttered flatly, dull-eyed. “I suppose you got married and started a family when I was away, huh?”

To his surprise, your eyes started to well up. You dashed at them, and in the faint morning sun, your ring finger was as bare as the winter-struck trees above. Bachira had to take a step back. 

“Wait… how long are you?” 

Your pretty face was twisted into a frown, and you were resolutely not looking into his eyes. “It’s none of your business.”

 You tried to walk away from him, but Meguru was still stubborn. 

“Don’t give me that bullshit,” he snarled, surprising the both of you by his fire. “Tell me the truth. Did you fuck someone else while I was away?”

His question ignited a flame of defiance from you. 

“What the fuck, Meguru? How dare you ask me something like this?” 

Your teary eyes dissipated, leaving behind a glow of anger that threatened to sear him whole. “First of all, I don’t owe you an explanation. Second of all, please give me back my groceries and third—” you shifted uncomfortably, scowling at your own two feet. Bachira hated to admit how adorable you were when you glared at the ground. “—I’m really, really hungry. Can you stop squishing my bread? It’s supposed to be for breakfast.” 

He blinked. Slowly, he handed you back your paper bag of groceries. You snatched them with a flurry of indignation, turning on your heel.

“Is it mine?” 

You stopped dead in your tracks. 

Meguru hadn’t realised how empty the carpark became until he noticed the small of your back threatening to be swallowed by the vastness. It felt like eons since he last saw you. He wished you would just give him a hug. 

Your shoulders hunched forward, hugging the crumpled bag tightly to your chest. 

Without your denial or confirmation, Bachira could make an educated guess.

“Three months, huh? You found out about the little critter while I was away, right?” 

“Don’t call him a critter.”

Bachira’s heart soared straight to his throat, lodging right there. “It’s a boy?” 

You didn’t run away or try to brush him off this time. From the slope of your shoulders to the tremble in your hands, Meguru sensed your defences falling to leave you open and vulnerable. He rushed forward to patch you up again. 

Guiding you into his embrace, Bachira didn’t care if you both were in public or someone would whisper at the indecency. He pressed a kiss to your hair. 

“You should’ve told me,” he mumbled, not sure if he was saying the right thing. “I would’ve returned back in a heartbeat.” 

“You had a dream to fulfil,” your sad sigh reached back to him. “I didn’t want to be a hassle.”

Bachira turned you around, lifting your chin to tip your head up to meet his serious gaze. “Y/N, you are not a hassle to me. You’re my friend. And friends help friends, amirite?” 

You had to muster a smile at his innocence. “Yes, Meguru. You’re right.” Looking into those golden eyes you missed after the longest, loneliest three months of your life, you teared up again. “I-I’m sorry—”

He shushed you with a finger on your lips and a grin. “Don’t cry anymore, Y/N. Meguru’s here, yeah? Come on. You said you’re hungry? Let me make you breakfast.” Without giving you a chance to refuse, Bachira took your groceries from you and your hand. “The little guy is gonna have the best breakfast of his life!”

“Meguru, wait—”

“And I’ll make him my special pancakes.”

“Megu-chan—” 

“And he can meet his grandma, too!” 

“Bachira!” 

He stopped in his tracks and looked down to find you flushed and glaring. Cocking his head to the side, Bachira widened his eyes, innocently scanning your angry expression. 

“Yes, Y/N?” 

You raised an exasperated brow, chagrined that he couldn’t connect the dots. 

How exactly did he think you arrived at the store? On a magic carpet? 

“Um, are you forgetting about my car? I can’t just leave it here for the whole day, genius.” 

You had no idea how you ended up living with the Bachiras.

It started with Yuu taking one look at you, your swollen belly and her son’s sheepish smile to put everything together. 

Since your own parents were in a precinct far from Tokyo, she took you in as her own, nevermind the fact that it was her son who got you knocked up in the first place. Despite the social stigma attached to a pregnancy out of wedlock, she never shamed you or made you feel less than perfect for your condition. Instead, you noticed how she would eye Meguru past the rim of her mug, a look of deep disappointment on her pretty features.

She heard about how you and her son met; how the both of you were strictly engaged in a physical affair and nearly bit her tongue off before she could nag Meguru. Though his mother was less than thrilled at the idea of being a grandmother in her late forties, Yuu Bachira was nothing but kind and sweet to the woman carrying her grandson. She made sure you were properly fed, had a soft enough bed in her guest room and even instructed Meguru to pick you up from the train station after work. 

It was everything you didn’t deserve and more. 

While his mother was trying her best to be accommodating to this staggering new change in her life, Bachira himself was struggling to coincide with the idea that you were carrying his baby. 

It started with an ultrasound appointment. Since he was locked in Germany for those three months you had to wade through this pregnancy on your own, he was more than eager to make up for lost time by sticking to your side. The first time he saw his baby boy on screen, he had teared up, cupping your sticky stomach and leaving kisses on your belly’s crown, your skin tacky from the ultrasound gel. Then, he complained on the entire ride home that his lips felt funky and tingly.

You had almost forgotten how eccentric your baby daddy was.

Where other men would give their women space to grow and nurture a human being, Meguru was always an inch away when you needed him. It didn’t matter if he was out the whole day training. The second you called and told him that you were waiting at the train station, you would be greeted not even five minutes later by a panting Meguru behind the wheel. Your feet were hurting? Meguru would stop and sit you down on a bench, removing your sandals to squeeze your swollen ankles, much to your flushed and embarrassed exasperation at passersby’s stopping to stare. 

And not to mention how neurotic he was with your food intake.

“I heard protein is good for the baby! Y’know… to help grow their limbs and muscles and stuff.” 

In all honesty, his eager cluelessness was adorable. But, the mountain of fresh sausages on a single plate was worrying.

“Megu-chan, this is too much food for me,” you whined, sliding your perplexed gaze to his. “I can’t possibly eat this much!” 

“Silly, I’ll help you,” he sang, sitting opposite of your huge plate of wieners before jumping back to his feet like this chair was made of hot coals. “Oops, forgot the mustard!” 

Life with Bachira Meguru was interesting, to say the least. 

Sometimes, you would catch him staring at your belly in wistful happiness. Other times, you would find yourself back in your bedroom after passing out on the couch, a blanket tucked underneath your chin and your favourite small extra pillow supporting your lower back. 

However, similar to every event in life, it would amount to nothing without conflict.

The first (and only) crease in your relationship with the eccentric striker unfurled through an unexpected visit. 

The air in the tiny apartment was charged with the presence of four burly men in the living room. When you came back home from your short walk around the neighbourhood, you hadn’t expected the extra pair of shoes by the doorway, or the boisterous laughs booming from behind the corner.

“... heard your piece of ass is living with you now—ow!” 

“That is no way to talk about a pregnant woman.” 

An ungraceful snort resounded through the small space that reminded you of a bull huffing. “I meant to say that Bachira’s little friend is a little too comfortable, here, no?” 

“For real, man. I think I saw a breast pump catalogue somewhere on the table.”

“Shut the fuck up, Raichi.” Meguru never showed his annoyance to anyone’s face. Whoever this Raichi guy was, he must be a piece of work to get your baby daddy this riled up. 

“Aw. C’mon, don’t tell me you’re in love with her.”

Something about the words ‘love’ and ‘Bachira’ in one sentence had you pausing by the doorway to hone in on his unfiltered confession. Maybe you were a lovesick fool, and maybe you were naive to the core—but you had weakly hoped his feelings for you were more than friendly. Call it a delusion, but it was too late to separate logic from the illusion his kind and considerate gestures gave you.

“Nah,” the voice you were starting to love touched your ringing ears. “I’m not in love with her. Just being nice, that’s all. I feel bad for getting her knocked up before leaving Japan. We’re just friends.”  

Someone laughed. Your shoulders slumped forward, heart shattering into pieces. 

A hollow, dying tree has more life compared to your stiff joints. You gingerly took one step back, conflicted by the sudden onset of nausea and anger. It soon gave way to a profound disappointment which corroded through your lungs like acid fumes.

You choked back on a cry, spinning around and slipping your shoes back on. Barely fazed that someone could hear you rushing down the hall, your pattering footsteps faded in the distance, and the tiny apartment you were beginning to call home continued to stand in ignorance, oblivious to the inner earthquake rocking you apart. 

Your pain barely touched the real world, its ripples muted. 

The same way your presence made no difference in Bachira Meguru’s life.

It was close to evening time and you still weren’t home. 

Those idiots he had the pleasure of calling teammates had fucked off for dinner, leaving him anxious and worried for your safety when you hadn’t responded to his text of Where are you? 

Bachira was halfway contemplating if he should start putting up posters of you, when the front door clicked open. His mother entered, bearing a frosty glare and sharp eyes, dashing his hopes and igniting his anxiety in one enraged glance. 

“Ka-san, have you seen—”

“What did you say to her?” 

Meguru blinked. “Say to who?” 

“Y/N,” Yuu replied angrily, as if her son’s obliviousness personally insulted her. “I found her crying by the staircase, refusing to come back up here. Said she overstayed her welcome and if I could send her back to her own apartment.” The frown lines on his mother’s forehead deepened. “What did you say to her, Meguru?” 

His golden eyes widened. “Nothing! I swear. W-what did she tell you?” 

Yuu set her art bag on the table, sighing. “She didn’t make any sense.” Narrowing her eyes, she glared at her son again. “But, I sent her back to her apartment. She was almost hysterical and I didn’t want to stress her out even more. I’ll be packing her things.” 

Helpless to stop his mom from arranging your small suitcase filled with your belongings, Meguru shifted from foot to foot, wondering if he had done something wrong and how he could make it right.

“Should I talk to her?” He wondered out loud.

Yuu wrinkled her nose. “Give her some time to gather herself. You can talk to her when she’s calmer.” 

Continuing to pack up your things, his mother barely paid him any attention. Meguru was reminded of those times when he was younger. How guilty he felt when he took in Yuu’s exhausted, but determined expression from raising a child all on her own. 

“Ka-san, I want to speak to her,” he murmured. “It’s not right that she’s alone. She’s pregnant.”

Unlike his mother who had to work hard to provide for him, Meguru would never put you through the same thing. He was here as your friend and support; you could count on him to share the burdens with you.

Yuu paused from picking up your night clothes, tilting her head to the side. “If you want to talk to her, I’m not able to stop you. But, just remember to not stress her out. Like you said—she’s pregnant.” 

He nodded, despite how she couldn’t see him doing so with her back turned. 

Gathering his car keys and courage, Bachira dragged himself out of the apartment and to his car, determined to reach out to you. 

The journey to your place was calm for a Saturday night, and once he reached your front gates, he was reminded of the nights he snuck here, blonde-brown hair tucked under his hoodie and hands in his pockets. Trying to seem cool enough to earn your approval.

Bachira internally cringed at the memory and set forward towards your unit. He knocked on the door, peeling his eyes and ears for a sign of you. Eventually, his relentless knocks and calls of your name attracted the sound of your footfalls walking towards the door. Worried, flaxen eyes swept down your figure wrapped in a loose t-shirt the second the door opened, guilt consuming him when he noticed your red-rimmed eyes and wet nose.

“Meguru,” you mumbled, straightening. “Why’re you here?” 

“I’m sorry,” he blurted out. Bachira had never had to apologised for something he didn’t do. But, he wanted to try for you. “Whatever I did, Y/N… I’m sorry, okay? Come back and stay with us. It’s not good to be alone in your state.” 

Staring up at his hulking figure, your expression crumbled into one of misery. Bachira found himself gripping your cheeks before his mind could play catch-up. He tipped your head back with two fingers, forcing you to confront his panic.

“What is it, sweetheart? Tell me how I can make you feel better. What do you want from Meguru to help you?” 

The fact that he would sometimes refer to himself in third-person never failed to make you giggle, a watery, pathetic laugh breaking free past your clenched teeth. 

“It’s stupid.”

“Not a valid reason, princess. Try me.”

“Don’t hate me.” 

“I won’t,” he promised, brushing a loose lock of hair from your face. “You can tell me anything.” 

You flickered your gaze to your laced fingers, fiddling with your hands. “I… I heard what you told your friends. That you don’t—” you cringed back, but his fingers around your cheeks held you firm, coaxing you to give him the full picture of your distress. Inhaling deeply, you forced yourself to continue. 

“That you don’t love me.” 

His brows were knitted together, mouth set in a frown. He opened his mouth to speak, but you beat him to the punch.

“I know we’re just friends. That you don’t see me as a partner and we’re just co-parenting our baby. But… but I want more, Meguru. Do you understand where I’m coming from?” 

It took legions of courage to admit to someone that you wanted love. As clueless and eccentric as the world saw him, loneliness was a common emotion that he understood very well. And right before him, Bachira could see that you were so incredibly lonely.

He never thought about the effects of his treatment on you. How his polite and friendly gestures could be interpreted as disinterest. The truth was, Bachira was crazy about you. He never wanted to stay friends, but the timing was never right. His career would take him to another country for another season and you were in a delicate state with your pregnancy. Despite his overwhelming emotions, the young striker could not deny how you brightened his every waking moment.

Whether it was watching you devour an entire tub of ice-cream and moan about it later, or tucking you into bed after finding you dozing off on the couch, you held a special part in his heart which he rarely ever gave to people who were not Isagi or his mom. 

You were his special friend.

And he was in love with you.

“Silly, silly girl,” Bachira cooed, catching you by surprise. He leaned forward, pecking your forehead first, then your damp cheeks. “For such a smart woman, you can be so stupid sometimes.” 

Indignation rushed through your face, and you opened your mouth, that hot temper he found incredibly sexy fighting to put him in his place. Rather than letting it spill out, Bachira claimed your lips with his, silencing your anger. Replacing it with your soft moans and parted lips that silently screamed for more. 

He nudged you back into your apartment, closing the door behind him. Luckily, your shirt and shorts were easy to yank off and your couch was three feet away from the entrance. He sat down on the sturdy cushion, parting his knees and tugging you to sit on top of his bulge. Touching you in a way he hadn’t done since the moment he put his baby in you. 

And what a sight it was. He traced your bulging belly with lust-imbued eyes, biting on his lower lip to stifle an embarrassing, animalistic groan.

“You’re so sexy, mama,” he whispered, reaching out to knead your tits. “So fucking round and glowy. I should put more babies in you.”

You tossed your head back with a soft mewl. “Mhm—Meguru…”

“Yeah, say my name, baby,” he taunted, using the tips of his thumbs to flick your hardening nubs. They were much more sensitive than he remembered, all hard and perky just for him. “Gonna make you fucking combust. Give your sweet, hot, mom-bod all the loving she deserves—”

Twining your fingers in his long hair, you tugged him closer, smashing your mouth onto his. An attempt to stop his teasing. Bachira gave you your way with him, allowing you to grind down on his bulge, slip your tongue in his mouth. He would be putty just for you; let you exert your pent-up hormonal frustrations on his willing body. 

You impatiently yanked his belt off, nearly ripping his jeans button off in an effort to get his cock. He leaned back, arms spreading across the back of your sofa as he took in the heavenly sight of your dainty hands pumping his cock. You barely had to arouse yourself; your soaked pussy drooling all over his knee and rock hard nipples were rearing to go. 

Bachira pinned his half-lidded eyes on you as you lowered yourself on his dick, craning your head forward to watch your pussy suck him in. He watched your expression spread with joyous lust, your brows scrunched in pleasure. You used him thoroughly as he expected. All he had to do was rock his hips upwards while you gripped his shoulders, fucking yourself up and down his cream-slickened length. 

Once in a while, you would lean forward and claim his lips in a desperate kiss, your hips frantically rocking back and forth over his swelling dick. Meguru let his head loll back, his biceps and thighs tensing against your couch. When you pitched forward to wrap your arms around his shoulders, he let his patience snap, strong arms vining around you and taking over your weak grinding to thrust up heavily into your welcoming pussy. 

“Let Meguru take care of you, honey,” he mumbled into your neck. “You’re my fucking gorgeous Queen, yeah? Shouldn’t be lifting a damn finger to fuck yourself if I can help it.” 

His low grunts and masculine groans reverberated against your throat, driving you deeper into your insanity. 

“M-Meguru—!” 

“Close?” he panted, brushing his nose against your pulse point. “Cum for me, mama. Make your Daddy proud, yeah?” 

Something about that simple term—’Daddy’—had you seeing stars behind your eyes.

“Yes, Daddy!” you cried out, thighs tensing and pussy choking down on his dick. “Yes, yes, yes! I’m so close!” 

The band around your belly snapped, careening you off the edge. Bachira was not far behind, and he pulses inside of you, filling you with his hot seed within three searing seconds. 

Exhausted and dazed, the both of you slump into each other’s arms, satisfied beyond a shade of doubt. 

Bachira squeezed your hips, a ghost of his chuckle brushing your jaw. 

“Mama? You okay?” 

“Mhm,” you responded back weakly. “M’okay.”

“Marry me.” 

The dizzy curtains of an afterglow retreated back slightly, and your eyes widened. You peeled your sweaty cheek from the crook of his neck, staring at him with a trapped breath.

“W-What?” 

Completely serious now, Bachira’s gaze could’ve penetrated your soul. “You heard me, mama. I want you to be mine forever. So, marry me.” 

“B-but,” you sputtered, tripping over your words. “W-we haven’t even been on a date. You don’t know me that well. I—”

“Didn’t you want me to be in love with you? What better way to show you that than tying the knot?” He quirked one brow up, looking so ridiculous and handsome at the same time, you had to bury your face back into his neck.

“I didn’t mean marriage just yet!” you whisper-yelled. 

“So you don’t want to marry me?” 

“No, that’s not what I meant, I—I do!” 

“Then, I do, too. That settles it. Boom. We’re married.”

Despite how ridiculous this conversation was, you burst out into laughter, and then, your peals of giggles morphed into sobs. 

“Hey, hey,” Meguru cooed in panic, rushing to brush the wetness from your cheeks with the pads of his thumbs. “Did I say something wrong? I’m sorry.” 

You stared at him in his entirety with pure love in your watery gaze. How infuriating, silly and beautiful he absolutely was. Irrational as it was, you reached forward to cup his face, squishing his cheeks together and squeezing them. Your beloved, annoying, sweet, eccentric Bachira. 

“You are so adorable.” 

He blinked. “So are we getting married or not?” 

Another watery giggle slipped past your lips, and you released his cheeks, preferring to press your forehead to his. 

“Yes,” you finally admitted after a beat of silence, marvelling at how easy it was for him to change your mind without putting much effort into it. “Let’s do it. Let’s get married, Meguru.”

— feedbacks and reblogs are very much appreciated <33

©️ all works belong to lalunanymph. do not copy, repost, or claim as your own.

[osaemu]

OSAMU DAZAI: ❛❛ MIDNIGHT RAIN ❜❜

.ೃ࿐ his melancholia is addicting. NSFW

contents: fem!reader. smut –> angst. cunniligus, implied p –> v, alcohol consumption. mentions of alcohol and smoking. established relationship.

author's note: somewhat inspired by cornelia street, easily the best song off of lover imo. fight me.

dazai's a stressed man—that's what years upon years of living in environments as active and tense as the mafia and the agency would do to anyone. so on the somewhat rare occasions that dazai softens around you, it's not a problem for you to oblige him.

ever since the two of you started dating, you haven't had a free night to yourself. nights that were once spent on the couch are now spent following dazai through the scarcely lit parts of yokohama, the only illumination of his figure being the soft rays of twilight bleeding from the sky.

on your little nights out, he never lets go of your hand. whether it's to tug you along cobblestone pathways or comfort you in the alleys you used to avoid, his fingers are always threaded through your own.

the more comfortable he gets with you, the more touchy he gets. dazai's arms seem like they were made to wrap around your waist, and you can't help but feel like a part of you's missing when his fingers aren't tangled with your own.

dazai's good with his words, and even better with his hands. only someone as adroit as dazai could make you see stars on your bedroom ceiling with just his fingers.

on nights when the agency works him like a dog, it's all you can do to keep your heart from melting when you see the way he falls asleep in your arms. for him, your touch is dangerously drug-like—something like a sedative, as he tells you the morning after.

dazai wouldn't have it any other way—he'd rather be addicted to you than to cigarettes or alcohol. and, lucky for him, he finds out after your first night in his sheets that you even taste better too.

one crisp evening after one too many glasses of whiskey, dazai's lips find their way to your collarbone, brushing across your skin in an almost ghost-like manner. the way he's holding himself back is almost painful to watch—the longing in his eyes plus the way he flexes his fingers pulls out a plea for him to just touch you from your lips.

one thing leads to another, and within a couple minutes your clothes are discarded to who-knows-where and all you can think about is how good dazai is to you.

and yet, even an hour later, he's holding himself back. despite being under the influence, dazai retains enough of his mind to resist the growing urge to fuck you to his heart's content. only after your pleas turn into full-on begging does he give in, deftly pushing your legs apart and sliding in effortlessly, mumbling praises on just how well you're taking him.

dazai eats you out like a man starved—when you convince him to fuck you with his tongue, he's ravenous. to him, you taste like heaven, and to someone who's certainly going to hell, he can't help but savor the taste of the paradise he'll never set foot in.

someone with such a tainted past like him doesn't deserve such a good girl like you. you shouldn't have to bear any part of the burden that rests on dazai's shoulders—it's not your fault he's so attracted to you.

that's a lie. the blame can only be put on you for being so accommodating, so comforting, so fucking perfect—at least, that's what dazai tells you from his spot in between your legs.

the pornographic sounds that the two of you make over the course of the night fluctuate every time one of you goes over the edge, mind swamped with nothing but thoughts of the other.

the night goes by too fast, marked by love-drunk kisses and nearly-spilt glasses of whiskey. neither of you has any idea how it started or how it'll end—the rumpled sheets tangled in between your legs is enough.

promises of i'm yours fall from both of your lips as the high starts to fade and your breaths start to slow, sleep tugging at the backs of your minds.

as the view around you fades to black, a last whisper slips through your lips. just before your eyes flutter closed, you relish the look of surprise on your boyfriend's face—it's exceedingly rare to catch dazai off guard, and for you, the person he thinks he understands the most to do so? impossible.

and yet the six words you murmur as your head hits the pillow leave dazai open-mouthed for a moment. he's speechless. the words themselves aren't much, but the meaning behind them is everything.

all good things come to an end—as a member of two of the most perilous organizations in yokohama, dazai knows this all too well. being surrounded by death and danger for half your life tends to destroy one's faith in destiny, and yet, as dazai watches you fall asleep on his chest, he dares to let himself hope against all odds.

all good things come to an end, but hopefully, this won't. he's invested far too much into this for it to crumble—if the worst happened, he'd never love again. it wouldn't be worth the risk, not if someone as perfect as you managed to slip through his fingers. he couldn't lose you, too.

so when he hears his thoughts mirrored on your lips, something in dazai's heart breaks. all his life, he'd been taught that permanence was a false promise. everything ended, good and bad, eventually. dazai had been taught to cut people off before they could hurt him, but for you?

if loving you was pain, then by all means, consider him a masochist.

"i hope i never lose you."

[corroded-hellfire]

As You Wish - Eddie Munson x Reader, Part 7

A collaboration with my partner in crime @munson-blurbs

Summary: Now that the boys know you and Eddie are together, this should make life easier. Right? Unfortunately, there's still Brittany and the court case to deal with. Not to mention, the age gap now bringing some complications to light.

Note: I will never ever get over the lovely things you all say to me about this series. Some comments make me laugh, some make me cry, but every single one of them means the world to me. I can never thank you enough for reading this series.

Warnings: smut, oral, m!receiving, age gap, older!eddie, dad!eddie, breeding kink, Brittany should just come with her own warning at this point

Words: 7.6k

[As You Wish masterlist]

Gray. Gray everywhere: the clouds roll in, dark and stormy, threatening rain. The overcast weather cloaks the atmosphere in dullness, as though it could sense your mood as you and Eddie head towards Brittany’s house—the same one they used to share. 

Ryan and Luke are playing at the Harrington’s house; Steve promised to drop them back home in time for bed, though you imagine it’ll be later than that, given his pushover nature. Just a little pout and a pleading, “five more minutes, Uncle Steve?” is all it takes. 

Their temporary absence gives you and Eddie the rare opportunity to speak to Brittany alone; something you typically avoid, but you need to have this conversation sooner rather than later. 

Eddie debates whether or not he should knock on the door. It was still technically his home by law, though he certainly doesn’t feel like he belongs here. He decides to let himself in, announcing that you’re both present. 

“Hello? Brittany? It’s me. Well, it’s us,” he amends, clearing his throat. 

Brittany comes down the hallway from the bedroom and it’s the most unkempt you’ve ever seen her. Her usually flawless blonde hair is pulled up into a frizzy, messy bun on the top of her head, and you swear you’ve never seen the woman in a pair of sweatpants before this moment. 

As soon as she sees you, she groans and crosses her arms over her chest. “You can’t just send the boys in?” she asks, an inevitable eye roll gracing her annoyingly pretty face. 

“The boys aren’t with us,” Eddie says as the two of you fully step inside the house and you close the door behind you. 

“Excuse me?” Brittany just stares at the two of you, the look completely blank, not even any confusion behind those dead eyes. Complete indifference. 

Eddie sighs, relaying the explanation. “Steve’s going to be dropping them off later,” he says. He subtly nods for you to follow him more inside the house and away from the door. “We need to talk to you. While they’re not here.”

“Why?” Now the venom is back in her scowl, her lip practically quivering and threatening to turn into a snarl. There’s the Brittany you know. 

“Just…” Eddie sighs and runs a hand over the top of his head. “Just come sit down.”

You follow Eddie into the kitchen, as does Brittany, no matter how unwittingly it was. The three of you sit at the table and it’s silent; no one knows what to say or wants to be the one to break the tension.  

Leave it to Brittany to be the one to speak first, and though you’re less than thrilled to hear her voice, a very small part of you is glad that someone says something. 

“Are you going to tell me why I’m sitting here with you and your tramp? Or are we gonna fucking play charades?”

As Eddie’s hands clench into fists on top of the table, you realize Brittany hasn’t looked at you once since you stepped inside. It brings you an odd air of satisfaction and smugness.  

Eddie, meanwhile, is fuming at the derogatory term she used on you, and you can tell he’s about to rip his estranged wife a new one, but you’re able to calm him down by taking one of his fists in both of your hands and massaging it and uncurling his fingers until his tension starts to melt. You’re tempted to press a kiss to the back of it, but you both came here for a reason and now that conversation must be had. 

“So, uh,” Eddie pauses to clear his throat, “we just wanted to give you a heads up because the boys already know and they’re not exactly tight lipped. Nor should they feel like they have to hide anything from anyone—especially a parent.” He almost said “especially a mom” but he and the boys know she’s never been much of one to begin with. 

Brittany’s eyes finally land on you as her gaze flits back and forth between you and your boyfriend. 

“What?” She demands. “What’re you giving me a heads up about?”

“Well,” Eddie says, linking his fingers with yours with the hand that you soothed for him. “We’re together. Like, officially. The boys know and they’re pretty over the moon about it.” Eddie didn’t need to add that bit, but he enjoyed saying it nonetheless. Maybe it’s petty, but he wants to show off how happy he is. 

Brittany’s arms drop to the table as if they’re suddenly dead weight. “What the fuck, Eddie?” Her gaze is now solely on him again. “The boys know you’re fucking their babysitter?”

“Jesus Christ, Brittany,” Eddie groans, closing his eyes for a moment as he massages his furrowed brow. “No, the boys know that we have feelings for one another and are going out on dates.”

“Are they even old enough to understand that?” Brittany snaps.

“You just asked if we told them that we were fucking,” you say, piping up for the first time in this conversation. “But them knowing we have feelings for each other is too hard for them to comprehend? They’re not babies anymore.”

The glare Brittany gives you could rival that of Medusa. 

“Sorry if you missed the fact that they’ve grown up because you were too busy fucking half the town,” Eddie retorts before he can stop himself.

“You can shut your mouth. You’re not their parent,” Brittany says, pointing a freshly manicured finger at you before turning it on Eddie. “And you can eat shit.”

Eddie sees the opportunity presented to him on a silver platter and he knows he has to take it. “It would still taste better than kissing you.”

Heat rises to your face at his words and Brittany looks like she’s about to hurl a chair at him. Eddie just laughs and leans back in his seat. He wraps his arm around the back of yours and you lean in towards his body.

“Is that all you’re here for?” Brittany asks through gritted teeth. “Because you’re free to fucking leave any time you’d like. You know where the door is.”

Eddie looks at you and nods his head. “I think we’re good to go. Ready, babe?”

“Ready,” you affirm, always eager to be out of Brittany’s presence. It’s the same satisfaction you’d get taking a shower after you’ve been covered in caked up mud and dirt.

Brittany doesn’t bother saying anything as she stands up and storms down the hallway. You and Eddie can’t help but share an amused look and a chuckle as you stand up. There had been so many times back when you were just the babysitter that Brittany would say or do something and you’d just want to look at Eddie like, is this bitch for real? Now you know that all along Eddie wanted that too, and now you’re both on the outside looking in at this angry and pathetic woman who’s more trouble than what she’s worth. 

As you’re approaching the front door, an annoyed and frustrated groan emanates from the back of the house. Sucks to be you, you think as your hand twists the doorknob. You don’t think there’s ever been a day in your life that you’ve felt sympathy for that woman, and you don’t intend to start any time soon.

“That went better than expected.”

“Better?” you gawp, still reeling from the barrage of insults hurled your way. Nothing less than what you’d expect of her, but still…damn.

Eddie shrugs. “She didn’t cut my dick off, so…yeah.” His eyes soften when he takes in your rigidity. “Baby, are you…she didn’t upset you, did she?”

“I know it’s stupid—” you start with a sigh, but Eddie cuts you off gently. 

“It’s not stupid. C’mere.” He pulls you in for a hug as you stand under the yellow porch light shining as best it can in the dreary evening around you. “I love you. My boys love you. And nothing’s gonna change that, okay?”

You don’t fully believe him—which part, you’re not sure, but his promise is enough for now. “Okay.”

You would think it’s the first time you’re looking after kids ever with the way the butterflies are surging through your bloodstream. They left your stomach when you kissed Eddie goodbye this morning and now they’ve hitched a ride to every other part of your body. 

Danny and Amelia have been great all day. Amelia is not a fussy baby, though she does want to be held most of the time. And Danny is a very helpful little boy, always showing you where the different things you might need are: extra diapers, toilet paper, batteries for the television remote, snacks, and even where his dad keeps an old baseball bat with nails hammered into it in the garage.

“N’case someone wanna break in,” Danny informed you, as if this bat a state-of-the-art alarm system. 

Both kids drift off on the way to pick the older gremlins up from school. It’s just as well since you wouldn’t be able to concentrate on a thing they’d say anyway. Your thumbs beat out an erratic rhythm on the beige leather steering wheel in the Harrington family’s van—left in your care so that you’re able to transport all six kids at once. You’re more jittery than normal, jumping at every horn that’s blared or siren that’s sounded on the short drive down to the elementary school.

Right before you’d left to snag the four older children, Eddie had called you from work. He had been notified of when his first court appearance for the custody case would have to be. Ever since the phone call you’ve been on edge, the idea of Eddie having to make a case that he deserves to have the kids when anyone with half a brain already knows that he should have them full time. The words “court date” just keep replaying on a loop in your brain over and over again. 

You’re only waiting in the Hawkins Elementary School pick-up line for ten minutes before the kids all clamor in the van, loud as all hell as they continue whatever conversation it was they were having on the way to the vehicle. They all buckle themselves in and say hi to Amelia and Danny, who are excited to see them now that the ruckus has woken them.

“Everyone all buckled in?” you ask.

“Yeah!” a chorus of children respond.

“All right, here we go.”

When you get back to the Harrington house, it’s time for Amelia to take a nap. You carry the sleepy girl on one hip while you lay out apple slices and pretzels for the older kids on the dining room table. It doesn’t take long for the crunching and chomping to reach your ears as you head down the hall to Amelia’s room. 

Once the kids are done eating, it’s time for them to do their homework. They sit at the dining room table all together, after only minimal push back, visible from where you sit on the couch with Danny. You’re hardly paying attention to some new cartoon about a sponge who lives in a pineapple that Danny is watching. Stupid, you think to yourself. This show will never last. 

The first one to finish their homework is Natalie, who moseys on over to sit next to you on the arm of the couch. She has shiny light brown hair that looks like it could give Steve’s a run for his money someday, and wide blue eyes just like her mother. The soft-spoken little girl looks like she wants to say something to you but isn’t sure how.

“How was school, Natalie?” you ask, deciding to try and break the ice for her.

“Was good,” she says. She balances on the arm of the couch and pulls the hem of her skirt over her knees, almost like a nervous habit. Only then do you realize she’s only met you those few times for brief play dates and doesn’t really know you.

“I saw when I walked past your room before that you have a PowerPuff Girls poster,” you say. “You like them?”

“Yes!” her face lights up at the question. “Blossom is my favorite.”

“I like the pink one. With the red hair,” you tell her. “What’s her name?”

“That’s Blossom,” Natalie tells you with a giggle.

“Oh, silly me,” you say, scrunching up your nose. 

Apparently, this was enough for Natalie to feel like she could open up and talk to you more. You’re glad; you want her to be comfortable with you.

“Ryan told me that you’re his daddy’s girlfriend.”

It’s the last thing you expected her to say, and you almost choke on your own saliva.

“Oh, uh, yeah. I am.” Your face feels warm, and you wonder if the young girl notices at all. 

“You love Uncle Eddie?” she asks, eyes shining as if she’s expecting an epic romantic tale.

“I do,” you tell her, a grin lighting up your own face.

“Ryan’s my boyfriend,” she tells you matter-of-factly.

You remember the way Ryan gets quiet and shy around Natalie or even when she’s simply mentioned. The feeling is decidedly mutual it seems.

“Does Ryan know this?” you ask.

Natalie shrugs, seeming unbothered. “If he doesn’t, he will.” 

You can’t help but admire the young girl’s confidence. 

“Does Uncle Eddie know he’s your boyfriend?” she asks. 

“Yes,” you tell her, letting out a small giggle. I may have had my fantasies for a while there, but this time it’s real. 

“Are you gonna get married?”

The unexpected question has your eyes bugging out and your throat going dry. “Okay, that’s enough questions,” you sputter, feeling the heat rising to your cheeks. “Let’s get some homework done.”

“I am done,” she tells you.

“Then, uh, why don’t we see if any of the boys need some help.”

You breathe a sigh of relief when she skips off to check on Ryan, Luke, and Theo. Talks of marriage must wait another day. 

You’re reheating some chicken cutlets on the stove when the doorbell rings, almost silenced by the sounds of oil popping and six children playing nearby in the family room. 

It’s a bit early for Nancy or Steve to get home, and they wouldn’t ring the bell, so you have no idea who it could be. It sets you on-edge, especially knowing how many kids you now have to protect. 

Hugging a sleeping Mia to your chest, you look through the peephole to see none other than Edward Munson standing on the stoop. 

“What’re you doing here?” you ask, your excitement quickly turning to frustration when you notice the boxes in his hands. “Is that…?”

Eddie’s too busy short-circuiting at the sight of you holding Mia to pick up on your ire. She looks so perfect holding a baby. 

While you’re distracted, Danny and Luke run up to the door. “Uncl’ Eddie brought pizza! Yes!” Danny shouts, and the whole crew erupts into cheers. 

“Eddie,” you hiss, trying not to wake Mia, lest you have another child to chase after, “Nancy told me to give them leftovers for dinner.”

“They can have them another time,” Eddie shrugs, “no big deal.”

You shake your head. “Yes, it is,” you insist. “I was given specific instructions to follow, and I’m not about to mess it up on day one.”

Eddie puts the pizza down on the table and rests his hands on your shoulders. “Look at me, okay? It’s just pizza. I’ve known the Harringtons since before they were the Harringtons, and they’re not gonna get mad over this. And if they do, I’ll take full responsibility.”

A tiny smile tugs at your lips despite the anxiety bubbling in your stomach. “You better.”

“Scout’s honor.” He presses a kiss to your forehead and there is a mixture of “aww” and gagging noises coming from the children. “I love you,” he says loud enough for only you to hear.

“You talking to me or Mia?” you ask, giving him a smirk as you cock an eyebrow. 

Eddie chuckles and looks down at the sleeping little girl again. Her small back gently rises and falls beneath your hand, the bottom of her dark red downy hair brushing your skin. “Talking to my favorite girl,” he says as he looks back up at you, brown eyes gleaming. “But Little Miss Mia knows how much I love her, too.”

As everyone is finishing up dinner—Mia now happily sitting in the lap of her favorite uncle—the front door opens and both Steve and Nancy step inside. 

“Mommy!” Danny calls, already out of his chair and running towards his mom at full speed.

Nancy huffs a laugh and manages to catch him before he can either knock her over or accidentally speed right past her and crash headfirst into a wall.  

“Hey,” Steve pouts, resting his hands on his hips. “Mommy’s been going to work every day. Who usually stays home with you? Me! Did you miss me?”

Danny just giggles and hides his face in Nancy’s shirt, having chosen a favorite parent for the evening. 

“Hi, Daddy!” Theo calls from the table, waving a tomato-sauce-covered hand high above his head.

“Looks like we missed a pizza party,” Steve says as he walks over to the table. He raises his eyebrows and immediately turns his gaze to Eddie. 

You’re slightly nervous that Steve is going to be upset about the pizza and you start to fidget with your hands under the table, already thinking of a way to keep him from getting too angry.  

Before you can muster up an explanation, Eddie takes one hand off of Mia and grabs your trembling one to give it a reassuring squeeze. “Stashed the extra pie in my truck so the rugrats didn’t try to sneak a slice,” Eddie tells him with a grin. 

“This is why we’re best friends—oh shi-…I mean, sugar. Did I just admit to that out loud?” Steve muses as he turns away from the table to head out to Eddie’s truck.

“Too late,” Eddie calls after him. “It’s already been written down by the stenographer.”

Luke leans in towards you. “What’s a sornographer?” he asks, mouth surrounded by a tomato sauce goatee.  

You press your lips together to keep from laughing at his mispronunciation. 

“Someone who types all the words people are saying.”

Luke’s eyes widen and he frantically looks around the dining room in search of the mysterious ‘sornographer’. “Where are they?”

This time you can’t hold the giggle in. “Noooo, not here, Luke. Like, in court. With a judge and lawyers and stuff.”

Natalie wipes her hands and face off on a napkin before skipping over to her mother. “Mommy!” she exclaims, wrapping her arms around her. 

“Hi, sweetheart.” Nancy gives her a big hug. “How was your day?”

“So good! At school we watched a video with this cute little doggy who was being Sherlock Holmes, and then we came home and had the best time!”

Natalie’s enthusiasm about the time you spent with her this afternoon warms your heart and has the pressure of tears building behind your eyes. She leans into her mom and whispers so no one else can hear, but judging by the way her eyes flit over to Ryan before sliding over to Eddie, you assume she’s telling Nancy about your discussion about boys earlier.

“You’re a silly girl,” Nancy laughs, pressing a kiss to her eldest daughter’s temple. 

When Natalie bounds back over to her siblings and friends, you take the opportunity to shyly make your way over to Nancy’s side.  

“I’m, um, sorry about the pizza. I know you said to use the—”

Nancy cuts you off with an understanding shake of her head. “Don’t worry about it; I already figured that Beavis or Butthead brought it home.”

“Who’s who?”

She sighs. “I honestly couldn’t tell you.”

Usually, the routine would be for you to leave the Harrington’s with Ryan and Luke, then take them to whichever parent they’re staying with at the time. But, one, Eddie isn’t in his new apartment yet, and two, Eddie was at the Harrington’s as well tonight, so it becomes a group activity to bring the boys to Brittany’s.

The boys insist on being with you in your car on the ride over, which brings a smile to your face that warms Eddie’s heart. As much as he’d love to spend every available moment with them, having them want to be with you was a very close second.

When you park in front of the familiar one-story house, both boys take turns leaning into the front seat to give you hugs that are so tight you’re wondering when they got so strong.

“I’ll see you tomorrow, guys!” you call through your open car window.

“Bye!” Ryan says, throwing you a wave as he hikes his backpack up.

“Love you!” Luke calls back and it just about stops your heart. You’ve always known that the boys care about you and even adore you, but love? Tears prick the corner of your eyes, and you hope the light from the full moon outside is casting a shadow over your car so you can dab at your eyes with some privacy. 

Eddie gets out of his truck and walks over the cracked sidewalk to meet the boys in front of the house. Luke takes Eddie’s hand and even in the darkness of the evening you can see Eddie smile at his youngest. Before they can get to the door, it swings open and reveals Brittany waiting there, arms crossed over a fuzzy white sweater. Her piercing eyes land on the boys, move to Eddie, dart to you sitting in your car, back to the boys, and finally land on Eddie again. 

“You don’t have to walk them to the door, you know,” she snaps at her estranged husband immediately, not even taking a moment to acknowledge the kids. “You can stay in the car with your homewrecker.”

Eddie is fuming but he won’t show it in front of the boys. Every little insult she throws your way takes a little chink out of his armor and he’s not sure what he’ll do when that armor eventually leaves him exposed.

Instead, Eddie gets down on one knee on the uneven cobblestone path in front of the door so he can give each of his sons a big bear hug goodbye, silently praying what their mother just said goes over their heads. 

“I’ll see you guys soon, okay?” Eddie says, shards of his heart being crushed into dust as the moment he has to leave them here with her approaches. 

“I’ll miss you,” Luke says, reaching up and gently running his fingers tips over Eddie’s stubble that’s longer than usual. The way Luke studies his father’s face is almost like he’s committing the smallest details to memory. You wouldn’t be surprised if it’s so the boy could find ways to try and look like Eddie even more than he already does. 

“I’ll miss you too, bud,” Eddie says, his glass heart completely shattered now. “But soon I’ll have my apartment and we’ll have all the time in the world to hang out.”

“I love you, Daddy,” Ryan says, a sad smile on his face. Ryan has an easier time understanding the dynamics of what’s going on with the divorce and all, and he’s come to realize that his dad doesn’t want to leave him just as much as Ryan doesn’t want him to go.

“I love you, too. Both of you,” Eddie says as he ruffles up both boys’ hair. He stands up and presses a kiss to the top of both of their heads.

“See ya soon, you funky raccoon,” Eddie says, coming up with the ridiculous rhyme on the spot.

It gets the intended response though, as Luke busts out into giggles and replies, “see ya soon, smelly baboon.”

Eddie gently boops Ryan’s nose before he gives them one last smile and heads back down the walkway. He shoots you a small smile as well, that you acknowledge with a little wave. You wish you were both driving in the same car right now. You’d be able to hold his hand and assure him that everything is going to be alright. Deep down, Eddie knows; it’s just nice to be reminded sometimes.

Eddie climbs back in the truck and starts the engine. Once he pulls out onto the road, you follow behind him and make the drive back to your apartment. 

As soon as you get to your place, you and Eddie are all over each other. There was barely any preamble as the pair of you got out of your vehicles and met each other at the entrance. A breathy “hi” barely made it out of your mouth before Eddie’s hands were on your hips and his lips were attacking your neck with fervor as you tried to buzz the two of you into your building.

Mere steps from of the staircase, he starts peeling your jacket off your shoulders while you’re still in the hallway.

“Impatient much?” you tease, going in for another kiss and biting his lip purposefully.

“You tell me.” He guides your hand to where his erection strains against his jeans. Without warning, you give a particularly hard rub over his aching cock, just to hear the satisfying hiss that comes from his lips.

You can’t open the door fast enough; luckily, Jess isn’t home to make a sarcastic comment as you pull him into your room and push him onto your bed.

“All mine,” you murmur as you suck on the skin along his collarbone. He tugs on your thighs to pull you up more, so your pussy is on top of his groin. As you continue to grind on him, you feel him softening beneath you. You frown, but try to hide it by ducking your head.

“Is something wrong?” you ask, tucking a lock of hair behind his ear. 

“Nope, all good,” he lies through his teeth. Not well either, but you don’t want to press the issue.

You try to push past it, but he can’t deny that there’s an issue when you unbutton his pants and pull down the waistband to reveal his flaccid penis. 

“Eds,” you frown, ignoring the shame overtaking you. You’re on top of your boyfriend and he couldn’t be softer if he tried. You make a mental list of everything you hate about your body before asking, “What’s going on?”

He sucks in a harsh breath. “Christ, I…it’s her, okay?” You don’t have to guess who he’s referring to. “All I wanna do is focus on you, but she makes me so damn mad.”

“S’okay,” you keep your voice soft and kiss just below his earlobe. “We can talk about it later, if you want.” He nods, and you continue, “for now, let me help you relax.”

You slide down until your knees make contact with the thin pink rug you have to cushion you from the hardwood floor beneath. Eager lips trail down the sparse patch of hair on his chest, to his tummy, and down to his cock. “Do you think I didn’t notice the way your eyes nearly popped out of your head when you saw me holding Baby Mia?” You giggle when he freezes up. “Tell me, Eds; what were you thinking about?”

“Was thinkin’,” he swallows thickly, “about our baby.”

“Mm, so just me holding our baby? That’s what got you looking at me like that?”

He shakes his head. “N-No, a-also…also thought about getting you pregnant, watching you grow our child…” His dick twitches slightly; you lift it and lick up the underside of his shaft. A seed of pride plants itself in your chest at knowing just what to say to get him feeling excited. 

“Keep telling me what you thought about while I make you feel good.” You bring one ball into your mouth and suck lightly, already feeling his length starting to stiffen once more. “Don’t be shy.”

He breathes out slowly. “I want to fill you up every goddamn day and night until it takes, oh, fuck.” His concentration fades in and out as you suck on the head of his cock. “And once I knock you up, you know damn well I won’t be able to keep my hands offa you.” 

You hum your acknowledgment, sending vibrations from tip to base. 

“Sh-Shit, thinkin’ ‘bout you pregnant and bouncin’ on my cock. Gonna be so perfect.”

Avoiding the temptation to touch yourself, you put one hand on each of his ass cheeks and grab at the flesh, opening your throat to take him deeper. This is all about him right now. 

“Gonna keep you pregnant forever. I’ll marry you first, though. Promise.” Heat creeps into your face; he catches the soft smile dancing on your lips before you collect yourself and continue pleasuring him. “You like that? Gonna be my cute little pregnant housewife?”

Your thighs clench together involuntarily, and you quicken your pace. “Fu-uck, baby doll. ‘M close.”

You suck harder, deeper, your nose grazing his pubic hair. Saliva drips down your chin but you can’t be bothered to wipe it away. 

“Look at me while I fuck your pretty face,” he orders, and you peer upwards into his lust-blown eyes. “Good girl.”

You cup his balls with one hand and his knees weaken, a string of swears passing his lips as his release coats your tongue and slides down your throat. 

He holds out a slightly trembling hand and helps you up off the floor. 

“You’re a fuckin’ dream come true.”

A giggle bubbles out of you as he tugs you onto the bed with him and you land on top of his chest.

“I could say the same about you, Mr. Munson.” The slight movement from Eddie’s spent dick beneath you brings a satisfied smirk to your face. 

“Jesus, the way you say that drives me crazy,” Eddie admits, still trying to catch his breath. 

“I noticed,” you say with a wink.

After both of you have showered, the two of you go into the kitchen looking for a late night snack. The folder Eddie has been keeping all of the documents related to the divorce and custody in is on the table, an unwanted reminder that you’d hadn’t gotten a chance to really discuss it today beyond that brief phone call.

“So, uh,” you say, breaking the ice as you pull a bag of Cheetos from the pantry, “your first court date is set?”

“Yeah,” Eddie says with a sigh. He slides down into a chair at the kitchen table and you take the one opposite him. “Monday, March 29th.”

He doesn’t offer more information, so you have to do the digging. You hate having to draw information from him like this; you wish he would open up easier. “Did you, o-or rather, did your lawyer tell you what to expect?”

“I’m supposed to have some sort of plan of what I want for the kids,” he shrugs, though his fidgeting fingers tell you that he’s more concerned than he’s letting on. “Like, how I want full custody. But I’m not opposed to Brittany getting visitation rights. I think the judge just kind of wants to hear what both her and I have to say.”

“I imagine she’s going to have a very different plan than you prepared,” you say with a grimace.

Eddie huffs a humorless laugh and rests his head on his propped up fist. “She’ll go for the throat. Use any mistakes I’ve made or bad days I’ve had over the years as an excuse for why they shouldn’t be with me.”

“She’s going to make it brutal,” you say more to yourself than to Eddie. “But I’ll be right by your side the whole time, okay?” You start to reach for his hand, frowning when he looks away. “What?” Did I say something that upset him? Am I handling this right? 

“Maybe,” he breathes, carefully considering his words, “maybe you can stay here with the boys?”

His rejection smarts like a slap across the face. He doesn’t want you there. But why?

The obvious answer stares you down: you’re the other woman. The young babysitter who seduced a married man and destroyed his otherwise impeccable relationship, as Brittany will likely paint it. 

Shame seeps from your pores; you will yourself to ask him the question burning on your tongue: “Did I do something wrong?”

Eddie can feel his heart break with each word. “Did you—no, it’s just, y’know, don’t want too many cooks in the kitchen.” He inwardly winces at his pathetic excuse, not wanting you to know the truth. 

“Right, yeah.” But nothing about this is right; you’re partners—or, at least, you’re supposed to be. If you were in his position, you would love to have him by your side, supporting you. Clearly, he doesn’t feel the same way. 

He’s going through a lot, you try and reason with yourself. Maybe a change to a happier subject will lighten the mood. There’s plenty of time before the hearing anyway.

“So, um, my birthday is in a few days.” You lower your voice to a sultry tone, trailing your bare foot up his leg beneath the table. “My friends wanted to take me out and get me wasted for the big 2-1, but I was thinking we should spend it together…in bed…clothing optional?”

Eddie stands up and kisses you, and you think he’s going to accept your offer, but he shakes his head. “Nah, babe. You should go out with your friends. Enjoy your time with them, ya know?”

His head swims with of all of the instances where he’d begged Brittany for cozy nights together when she had wanted to go out with her girlfriends. He doesn’t want you to resent him the way she did.  

You’re so young; at your age, he’d go out with his friends, drinking and partying. Is he tying you down? A relationship with a man going through a divorce and who has two kids? At 21 years old? The least he can do is encourage you to have that wild 21st birthday with your friends that you deserve. 

“Okay, um, do you wanna come with me? I’d love for you to meet my friends,” you try again, desperate to crack the shell he’s built around himself. You stand and pad closer to him.

Eddie puts his finger under your chin. “Go with your friends, baby. I’ll be around to pick you up if you need a designated driver.”

Tears embarrassingly blur your vision. “Did I do something, Eddie?”

“No, why?” He leans on the countertop, chewing a Cheeto thoughtfully. 

“Because…because you don’t want me at the hearing, and you don’t want to celebrate my birthday with me. And if I did something to upset you, I want to fix it.”

He wipes the orange dust on a nearby towel and exhales impatiently. “Babe, I told you. The court stuff is just messy, and I want you to have time with your friends. Don’t read too much into it.”

His nonchalance irritates you. He doesn’t want you around, and he’s playing it off like it’s nothing. 

“Jesus, sorry for trying to support you and for wanting to be around you,” you snap, your craving for snacks evaporating as you’re filled with anger. It’s better than the despair that’s threatening to replace it. “I guess I’ll just swing by whenever you need a quickie.”

Eddie winces at your vitriol. “Swing by whenever—what the hell are you talking about? This is more than just sex, we love each other, and you know it.”

You do know it, but you’re too worked up to care about logic. You grab his keys from the countertop. “Go home.” It’s not until the words come out of your mouth that you realize he doesn’t really have a home to go to. The consideration of taking them back flits through your head like a leaf caught in a wind tunnel.

He throws his arms up in the air, defeated. “C’mon, babe. Don’t be like this.”

“Be like what, Eddie? Upset that my boyfriend doesn’t want me around? Frustrated because it shouldn’t be fucking impossible go get you to open up to me? Humiliated because you were soft while I grinded on top of you?!”

“I told you,” he says through gritted teeth, “it was because of all of the shit with—”

“I know; all of the shit with Brittany. I got it.” You roll your eyes. “That’s why I offered to go to court with you, but you said no. So, I guess I’m good enough to use as a distraction, but not—”

“I’m not…I’m not using you. Jesus Christ.” Eddie rakes his hands through his curls. “You wanna be at the hearing with me? Listen to all of the terrible things my ex has to say about me? Be my guest.” His mind goes back to just yesterday at how you were bothered by Brittany’s hostility. It would only be increased tenfold when she’s putting on a performance for the judge.

You’re fuming, hurling words like hand grenades. “After everything we’ve gone through, do you really think I’d take what she says to heart? What, is she gonna complain that you cheated, when she’s screwing half the town?”

Your candor awakens a rage within him. “You know what?” he seethes. “I give up. I spent most of my marriage trying to make my wife spend time with me, and that didn’t work. Now, I’m trying to make sure you have a life outside of our relationship, and that doesn’t work either.”

“I can handle myself!” You bite back. “I know what’s best for me; I’m not a child.”

“Barely.”

The one icy word has tears burning behind your eyes, but you refuse to let them show—it’d only give his insult traction. 

“Is that what you think this is, then?” you demand. “Poor, young girl just wants a big strong man to take care of her?”

Eddie looks like he’s about to tear out every last hair on his head. “No! Fuck, why do you keep twisting my words?” 

“I have to try and find some meaning behind them when you won’t tell me what you’re really thinking!”

“Jesus Christ,” Eddie groans, rubbing his hands down his face. “You want to know what I’m really thinking? I’m thinking that before this moment I didn’t see you as some whiny brat who’s going to scream and stomp her foot when she doesn’t get her way.”

“And now?” you ask, crossing your arms over your chest.

He sputters for a response. “Now I don’t know what to fucking think. You’re more mature than this—or so I thought. But it seems like now you’re having a goddamn tantrum.”

A tantrum. You’re trying to communicate how excluded you feel, and he reduces it to a tantrum. “I just don’t understand! Why don’t you want me with you?”

Eddie paces a few laps in front of you, his hands on his hips. “You want to know? You wanna know fucking why? Because I know the venom Brittany can spit when she’s not even trying to hurt someone. And when she puts her mind to it? The woman channels Satan himself.” He chuckles tersely, shaking his head as though he can’t believe he’s even entertaining this conversation. “I couldn’t give two shits what she says about me in that courtroom. But she’s going to be hurling her malice in your direction as well and there’s no way I can have you hearing that. She’s vicious and ruthless and I want to spare you from that. I don’t want you there with me that day, but it’s not because I don’t want you at my side, it’s because I want to shield you from that and her.” 

The rational explanation should calm your anger, but it only fans the flames further. 

“I get to make that decision for myself, Eddie. I am a grown ass woman and I get to decide what I can and cannot handle. You don’t get to make those choices for me and then call it protection. That’s not how this is going to work. And what about my fucking birthday, huh? Trying to ‘shield’ me from something there, too?”

Eddie pinches the bridge of his nose and tries to take a calming breath to steady himself—it doesn’t work all that well. “Sweetheart,” he starts, not missing the ice in your glare at his use of the pet name, “I just want you to go out and have a good time with your friends, okay? That’s all! It’s your 21st birthday, for Christ’s sake. You should be going from bar to bar with your friends, getting free shots and dancing and laughing the whole night. And you want to spend that night with me?” Eddie shakes his head incredulously. “We spend every night together right now.”

“But it’s not just an ordinary night,” you shoot back. “It’s my birthday and I should be allowed to say how I want to spend it.” 

Eddie is steadily moving from anger to exasperation. He takes a step closer to you and lays his hands on your shoulders, making sure you’re looking at him. 

“You are young. This is when you should be partying and drinking and all that shit with your friends.” He’s practically begging you to understand his perspective. “Not coming to some stuffy courtroom with a man who is going through a divorce and fighting for the custody of his kids.”

“But I choose this,” you say. “I choose you.” You jab your index finger into his chest. “I’m more than capable of making decisions for myself, Eddie. I don’t need you telling me what’s best for me. This is my life and I call the shots. And, for the love of God, can you please stop acting like you’re this ancient old man? I know I tease and call you old all the time but you’re thirty-fucking-two! You are young!”

“I just…” Eddie trails off with a sigh. When he speaks again, his voice is softer, though it’s still tinged with anger. “I just don’t want you to end up resenting me because you spent your early twenties being a shoulder for me to cry on when you should be exploring and enjoying life.”

“I am enjoying life, Eddie. With you!” you insist. “This is what I want. It’s my choice and you can’t take my autonomy away from me.” 

“And I would never want to,” Eddie says, voice slightly calmer. “I’m just trying to do what I think is best because I love you. That’s all.”

You drum your fingers on the counter, mimicking a heartbeat. “You don’t get to determine that, Eddie.”

Eddie sighs and rubs a hand over his forehead. “You’re right.” 

There’s a beat of silence before you say, “thank you.” Eddie simply nods in acknowledgment. “So, can I come to the courtroom?” you ask, the slightest bit of hope in your voice.

“I still don’t think that’s a good idea, sweetheart,” he admits with a sigh.

Heat rises in your body as your temper threatens to engulf you again. Not wanted, not needed. Disposable. Easily discarded.  

“And…what about my birthday?” You should shut up, stop asking questions, but you’re desperate for closure. 

Eddie sighs again. His eyes look anywhere but at you. “It’s your birthday. You make the call. I just…I wish you’d go out with your friends.”

“Would you come with me?”

“Princess,” Eddie says softly, and you already know his answer. “I’ll just be a downer. You don’t want me there.”

But you do. None of your words seem to break through that thick skull of his though. You were willing to compromise about going out as long as your boyfriend would come with you, but no. Eddie wants this to be an Eddie-less birthday for you for some reason.

“I think I should stay with the Harringtons for a bit,” he says finally, voice barely above a whisper. “I just…I need to think about things.”

Your bottom lip starts to tremble despite yourself. “Think about…us?”

“Yeah,” Eddie starts, backtracking immediately when he sees the panic in your eyes. “No, no, not like that.” He steps forward, as if to comfort you, but stops himself. “Just…about this.” Eddie gestures vaguely to the space around you. “I think we both need some time to calm down and think.”

You nod and wrap your arms around yourself. Part of you knows he’s right, but part of you wants him to stay here so you can work through it together. But it’s been a long day and it’s not the worst idea to have some time for yourself. “O-Okay,” you say in a shaky voice.

Eddie slips into your room and grabs the duffel bag he’s been living out of. “I’ll, uh, talk to you later,” Eddie says. Everything in him wants to lean in and kiss you—even just your cheek, but he restrains himself. 

“Okay,” you repeat, unable to conjure up a more eloquent response. 

Eddie picks his keys up off the counter and jingles them a few times between his fingers. He wants to speak but doesn’t know what there is to say, so he nods his head and walks out the front door. 

You listen as his footsteps disappear down the hall and once you can no longer hear them, the first sob leaves your lips as you slide down to sit on the kitchen floor and just cry.