#<- feel like I’ll talk about coding quite a bit so there’s a tag for it.

[fated-normal-767]

coding is just poetry but five hundred billion trillion times easier. Send post.

[mischievousmoony]

𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚗𝚎𝚠 𝚑𝚒𝚛𝚎

𝚙𝚊𝚛𝚝 𝟷 ⟡ 𝚠𝚎𝚕𝚌𝚘𝚖𝚎 𝚒𝚗

⟢ james potter x fem!reader

⟢ summary: modern restaurant au; it's your first day on the job and james is your trainer . ݁₊ ⊹ . ݁˖ . ݁ 2.4k

⟢ warnings/tags: is profanity a tw pls lmk actually, coworker!james, coworker!marauders, accidentally wrote an anxious!reader, trying out that headcannon where remus is a bit of a hothead, only lightly grammar checking this series bc i just wanna have fun w it

⟢ the new hire masterlist ⟡ main masterlist

note: here, bc i gotta chill and write something light for once. i think this will be an ongoing fic. also im not beating the mentioning tea in ever fic allegations anytime soon how does this always happen.

“Welcome in! How many in your party?”

“Oh! No, I’m Y/N. It’s my first day.” Your fingers pitter patter nervously on the host stand.

“You’re the new waitress!” the bubbly hostess exclaims, “I’m Mary! It’s so nice to meet you. Stay right there, I’ll go get the manager.”

She disappears into the busy restaurant, leaving you rocking back and forth on your heels nervously.

Mary, you repeat the name in your mind, recalling what she looked like so that you wouldn’t forget who the name belongs to. You had a thing with learning names—you just hated forgetting them. It felt so humiliating to have to ask someone to remind you of their name. One time, you worked with someone for months and their name lived on the tip of your tongue the entire time. Luckily, they quit before it ever came up.

“There she is! Ready for day one?” The manager, Nate, greeted as he followed Mary back to the host stand.

Not in the slightest. You always hated first days, with all the pressure to make a good impression. Not to mention it’s only the start to the slow climb over the learning curve. You hold out hope that everyone will be as nice as Mary seemed, it would make today a lot easier.

“Ready as I’ll ever be,” you say, straightening out your black shirt. The dress code for this job was essentially the color black from head to toe. You used the lack of a formal uniform to your advantage, expressing your personal style as much as you could within the confines of business casual.

Nate clapped his hand together, “Right, first up is a tour and introductions. I have all your paperwork already, right? So, after that we’ll get you in an apron and find someone for you to shadow.”

“Sounds good,” you try sounding cheery and excited, only for you to start worrying about whether or not you sound too eager.

“So, front of house is up first. You’ve already met Mary, our lovely hostess—“

Marry wiggles her fingers at you as a playful wave while she takes a phone call, “Yes, we do takeout!”

“You don’t need to worry about the host stand, but I’ll show you the book so you can get a feel for the sections and how we operate. We’ll only give you a small group of tables at first…”

You try to commit everything Nate says to memory, wanting to do well here. You really need this job. Rent isn’t cheap, especially without roommates. And you really don’t want a roommate. Plus this place pays their servers well, so you want to be good at it. You really really need to listen to Nate if you’re gonna be good at this.

But, jeez, Nate seems like he loves to talk. He’s going on and on and on and you’re fighting back a yawn when Mary swoops in like a hero, telling Nate she needs the book back to make a reservation.

“Sure, I think you’ve got the idea of it anyway, right?” Nate asks.

You blink, “Oh, yeah. Sure do!”

Shit, you think. You totally zoned out.

“Great, let me show you to the bar,” Nate says, already walking away.

Another reason why you really want to work here was for the ambiance. It’s a contemporary place with a grungy interior, all while remaining slightly upscale for restaurants in this area. Another upside was the live music. If you’re gonna be working, at least let it be somewhere nice with good music.

“Sirius! New server’s here,” Nate interrupts the bartender who’s in the process of mixing up a cocktail. You introduce yourself with a shy smile as you study him, trying to make a permanent link between his name and face in your mind.

Sirius the bartender—mischievous gray eyes and long black hair. He wears half of it tied up in the back of his head, surly to avoid having it fall in his face while he mixes drinks.

He puts the shaker down and rolls up the sleeves of his satin black dress shirt, “Hey there, doll, y’alright? Natey not being too boring for ya?”

“Alright, back to work, Sirius.” Nate says, sounding snappy.

You follow Nate to the back of the restaurant.

“This is the kitchen—“

“Who the fuck rang in scallops? We’ve been 86 scallops all fucking day.”

“Don’t look at me! Was probably James, the bloody dolt.”

“This seems like a bad time,” Nate spins on his heels and ushers you out of the kitchen quickly, “Whoever trains you will get you acclimated to the kitchen later. That’s Remus, just so you know, head chef.”

You nod, not having anything else to say as you begin to worry everyone won’t be as nice as Mary.

You want to take a moment to commit Remus’ name to memory like you had Sirius and Mary’s, but you only caught a glimpse of him. Still, you were sure you wouldn’t forget who the name belonged to now that you’ve had such a lovely first impression.

Next, Nate takes you down a hall, past the bathrooms, to show you his office and the staff area complete with a rickety table for breaks and some lockers. In the corner are two plastic bins with fading sharpie scrawled across the front of them: CLEAN and DIRTY. Nate reaches into the “clean” bin and picks out a slate gray apron.

He hands it to you, and you try to tie it the way the server in the kitchen had it. Nate starts leading you back out into the dining room as you continue to fiddle with the ties.

As you dart around the restaurant, the “fast-paced environment” detail from the job listing is really starting to materialize, and this was only the tour.

“Right, now where are my bloody servers.” Nate mutters under his breath, “Slacking off by the host stand, of course.”

There’s two servers at the host stand: a girl with red hair hanging in two braids on either side of her face and a tall boy with glasses. They’re huddled with Mary, looking like they’re sharing hot gossip.

You and Nate make it to the host stand at the same time as the other server from the kitchen.

“Hey, team!” Nate says, but it falls on deaf ears.

“Chef’s fuckin’ pissed at you,” she says to Glasses.

“What I do!?” He asks, whipping his body out of the huddle. Mary and the red-haired girl keep talking without him.

“Thinks you rang in some scallops,” she shrugs, blowing a strand of blonde hair out of her face.

“Why would I do that? We’re 86.”

“Yeah, but I forgot,” she says nonchalantly, leaning her back against the host stand.

“And you let him think it was me!?”

“Oh yeah, obviously. Anyway, I should probably go tell my table they’re not getting their scallops.”

“Servers!” Nate interrupts loudly, finally making your four new coworkers quiet down. You feel all eyes suddenly train on you. You smile through the uncomfortable sensation of your stomach lurching.

“We have a new member joining our team today. Please give a warm welcome to Y/N.”

“Hi,” you flash a smile to the new faces in front of you.

“Welcome!” The red-haired girl returns a bright smile of her own, “I’m Lily, I love your earrings.”

“Marlene,” the blonde says plainly.

And finally—

“Hiya, Love. I’m James,” the one with glasses says coolly as he rests an elbow on the host stand. He exudes confidence, and it makes you want to shrink into yourself.

You try to study the three of them to commit names to faces.

Lily—fiery red hair, kind eyes, and a fair complexion with a sprinkling of freckles.

Marlene—you like the way her blonde hair is cut into a shag. She also kind of intimidates you, so you really want to remember her name.

James—glasses, tousled dark hair, very attractive. That last part probably wasn’t a necessary attribute to help you remember his name, but it was true. He has a tall, toned frame that would’ve made him seem intimidating if not for the way his eyes transformed into the physical embodiment of sunshine when he smiled. Were your hands getting sweaty?

“Alright, great. Introductions are done, now I need someone to be a trainer.” Nate claps his hands together, waiting for a volunteer.

“I have to go give a table bad news, so-”

Nate cuts Marlene off before she can hastily run away, “Wasn’t gonna ask you anyway.”

James is eyeing you, sizing you up it seems, when he pipes up, “I’ll do it.”

Marlene snorts. “Weren’t you saying an hour ago that Nate better not dump the-”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about, Marls,” James says through clenched teeth, glaring sideways at her.

You felt like quitting on the spot, thinking that you were obviously a burden on these people. Being a burden to James, specifically, felt particularly embarrassing. It had your face heating up.

“Great! Thanks James,” Nate says, “Y/N, you’re in good hands. I’ll be in the office if you need anything. The rest of you, get back to work!”

With a reluctant groan from Marlene and a “nice to meet you” from Lily, the small crowd disperses. All except for you and James.

“I’m sorry you got saddled with training me.”

“Aw man, no! Marlene was just-” James cuts himself off with a sigh, “Fine, I didn’t think I’d want to train today. But I changed my mind, so don’t feel like you’re a burden or something, alright?”

James seems pretty genuine, so you digress. Not without a joke first, though.

“Just remember you asked for it later when you get tired of me.”

“I have a feeling that’s not gonna happen,” James says, a certain playfulness dancing in his eyes.

As a new party walks into the restaurant, James leads you toward a nearby order station so that you’ll be out of the way.

“So, you’re gonna wanna forget everything Nate told you,” he says as you walk, “I’m gonna show you how we actually run this place.” He shoots a boyish smirk over his shoulder.

“That shouldn’t be very hard, I don’t think I was awake for any of it,” you admit with a chuckle.

“Ooh, I’m gonna like you!” James swings his body around when you reach the order station, “We love Nate slander here. Behind his back of course.”

“That’s worrisome,” you say, trying to find a comfortable way to lean against the terminal. You end up just standing up straight, “He seemed kind of nice.”

“You ever work in a restaurant before?” James leans toward you, looking coy, and you do your best not to shrink away from him.

“Yeah, I was a hostess.”

“You ever been friends with any of your old managers?”

You think about it for a minute, “No.”

“Exactly,” James leans back and you feel your shoulders relax at once. “He’s alright, but he’s still the boss. Plus, it’s good for server morale to have a common enemy.”

James earns a laugh from you, and he smiles brightly as if it’s the biggest honor.

“So, when do you get off?”

“I’m closing, I think.”

“Nate has you closing on your first shift? Diiiiick move.”

“He asked first and I told him I could handle it.”

“He shouldn’t have asked.” James insists, then he waves it off as if deciding what’s done is done, “That’s alright, you’ll be able to stick with me. But in light of that, I’ll make today easy for you. You can watch while I take orders, and I’ll show you how I ring them all in here,” James pats the POS terminal, “And you can help me get bread and refills out to tables mostly. I won’t make you take orders today ‘coz it’s a bit rowdy in here, but maybe if we’re sat with an easy table we’ll see how you’re feeling.”

You nod along, not having anything to say, not that you had the chance. James is a fast talker and you’re beginning to notice how full of energy he is. It’s a tad amusing, and it’s beginning to show on your face.

“What?” James asks, eyes flicking down to your growing smile.

With a slight shake of your head, you say, “You a big coffee drinker?”

“Y’know, I get that a lot,” James reaches into the underside of the order station, and pulls out a canned beverage, “But I’m partial to these.”

Your face scrunches up as James takes a sip of what you like to call battery acid in a can.

James makes a big show of acting refreshed, emitting a long sigh when the can leaves his lips, “Not your cup of tea, I take it?” James raises an eyebrow.

“My cup of tea would be actual tea. Or coffee-“

“Coffee’s any better?”

“A million times, yes.”

“I beg to differ.”

“You can’t be serious.”

James’ eyes light up like you’ve just handed him a prize, “You’re right, that’s the bartender. ‘Ave you met him?”

It takes you a moment to register what he means, and then you’re rolling your eyes, “Oh, I’m gonna hear that joke a lot from you aren’t I?”

“You’re gonna hear that joke all day from everyone, Love, it’s a house favorite.”

As you’re about to quip back, Lily squeezes between you two to ring in some food.

“James, enough flirting. Some of your tables are starting to look pissed,” she says, tapping on the screen quickly to get the order in.

“I’m not flirting,” James protests, but the wink he shoots you begs to differ.

Lily takes a break from noting modifications for a sandwich order to look at you, “James is always flirting, you’ll learn to ignore him.”

James is looking at you over her shoulder, shaking his head and swirling his index finger by the side of hers, mouthing “she’s crazy.”

As Lily resumes removing tomatoes from the order, she catches James in the act and swats his hand away, “Seriously, James, they’re starting to flag me down because they haven’t seen you in ages.”

James clutches his hand close to his chest. His eyes flit between you and Lily, a mock-horrified look on his face that communicates “see, I told you she’s crazy!”

“Who?” he asks.

“Your tables, you dunce,” Lily hisses, but there are notes of humor in her voice.

James bares his teeth as grimaces and checks his wrist for a watch that doesn’t exist, “Bollocks, look at the time. Come Y/N, I’ll show you how to turn an angry table into a happy one.”

You have to stifle a laugh as you follow James to his tables, mentally adding him to the list of reasons why you really want to work here.

[mika-writes-fanfics]

Make it up to you

Professor!Touya x Fem!Reader

Synopsis: You're assigned to be the teaching assistant for the new, attractive instructor at your university. His name? Professor Touya. Ever the good student, you hope to maintain a professional relationship with him and stay in good standing, but when he publicly embarrasses you in front of the entire class, all that is thrown out the window. 

Warnings/tags: Colleg AU, quirkless AU, older Touya (coded to be in his 30s), female reader, student/teacher's assistant reader, professor/student relationship, dumbification, fingering, creampie, unprotected sex, multiple orgasms (female), public sex, usage of sir, public embarrassment, lots of dirty talking, messy sex 

Author's note: Huge shoutout to @dabisqueen and @history-be-written for being my beta readers and giving me good suggestions. I appreciate you guys sm!!! This fic truly wouldn't have turned out the way it did without you two. 

Word Count: 7.9K

“So,” Your friend turns to you, asking you in piqued interest, “Who’d the department put you with? You know who you’ll be an assistant for yet?”

“Yeah, I was told I’ve been placed with ‘Professor Touya Todoroki’,” you answer. The name is completely unfamiliar to you, though, you’re hoping she has at least heard of him before.

It’s your turn to ask her a question, and you choose to say, “Have you ever had him?”

Much to your dismay, she shakes her head no.

“Nope, never had him,” she replies. You frown slightly at her answer. Turning to  your friend’s roommate, you hope  to find that she has had some sort of interaction with him. 

“What about you? Have you had him before?” You question her. Just like your friend, she shakes her head, much to your disappointment. 

“I haven’t,” shesays. “I don’t even think anyone else has talked about him before either. I’ve never heard his name in my life.”

Damn. 

You were wanting to hear your peers' experience with your soon to be ‘boss’ of sorts, so that you could prepare yourself, but it seems you’re shit out of luck. You’ll just have to go in blind.  

“You know, they hired a new professor this semester. It might just be him,” your friend points out. She smiles at you mischievously before adding, “And rumor has it, he’s hot as fuck.” 

“Ooooh, how lucky. I’m jealous,” your friend’s roommate giggles. You scoff at the reaction. 

“No reason to be. He’s my professor, ‘s not like I can, you know, do anything with him,” you counter. 

You check your phone, seeing that the time to meet the new professor has come. “I gotta head over to his office before his lecture starts. I’ll catch you around.”

“See you later then. Have fun~” your friend farewells in a singsong voice. 

You chuckle at her antics and make your way over to the department building and to his office. When you get there, you stop to peer through the window on his office door, trying to see if he’s inside. Luckily, he’s there, looking down at a paper in his hand, unaware of your presence. 

You notice right away he doesn’t look like the rest of the university staff. He looks quite a bit younger than the rest of the aging faculty. Though, he was still a couple years your senior, in his early thirties at least. What makes him really stand out to you, apart from his piercing cyan eyes and dark, shaggy hair, is the way he dressed. He’s wearing tight black jeans, a form-fitting white button up, an expensive wristwatch, and black Converse. You can’t help but admire his intense, blue eyes as he studies the sheet of paper in his hand, too focused to notice your staring. Your eyes travel the expanse of his face, taking in his features. 

You remember your friend’s words, her little comment echoing in your brain. ‘Rumor has it, he’s hot as fuck,’ you’re reminded. For once, it seems her gossip is true. Even you can’t deny it; Professor Todoroki is very attractive. 

But you won’t act on your feelings, you can’t. You’re supposed to be his assistant after all! And so, with that thought in your mind, you snap yourself out of your daze. You take a deep breath, steeling your nerves and suppressing your desires, before knocking on the door.

He looks up from his papers and glances at you through the window in the door, before beckoning you inside his office. You swing open the door and take a few tentative steps into the room. He quickly looks you up and down, just for a split second, only for his eyes to settle back on your face and look at you expectantly. You hate how his overt glance at your body flusters you and makes you feel hot all over. 

“Excuse me, are you Professor Todoroki?” You ask with a soft voice. 

“Yep, that’d be me. Although, you can just call me Professor Touya. I don’t use my father’s last name,” he explains. His deep, smoky voice worsens your nervousness. The way his voice drawls has butterflies swarming in your stomach. He tosses the papers he was reading off to the side and approaches you, smirking down at you. “But what can I do for you, sweetheart?”

The pet name is something you’re surprised to hear coming from your professor. It borders dangerously on unprofessional, and yet, you find yourself letting it slide. Hearing him say something like that to you sends a wave of heat between your legs. 

Keeping your cool around him is not going to be easy, especially if he keeps calling you that. 

You start by introducing yourself and telling him your name before continuing. “I’m sure the department informed you already, but I’ll be your TA for this next semester,” you start. “I look forward to working with you.”

He hums in response. 

“So you’re my little assistant? Gonna help me with all the long hours grading, hm?” He asks. 

“Yes sir,” you answer. There’s a darker expression that flashes on his face, but it passes just as quickly as it appeared. He narrows his eyes slightly and lazily leans against his desk, supporting his weight using his forearms. Underneath the fabric of his button-up, you can see the muscles of his arms flexing. 

Oh god. 

He’s fucking ripped too. 

“You know, the other faculty told me about you,” he mentions. You can’t help but quirk up at the comment, feeling curious. What did the other teachers say about you? 

“Nothing bad, I hope,” you joke. 

“They all said you were a good student. Never a rule breaker, always professional. Top of your class too, I heard,” he starts. It fills you with a sense of pride and accomplishment, to hear your hard work has gotten you some recognition. You’re practically preening at the praise. And yet, it feels like there’s something else he wants to add. He straightens up and leans off of his desk. The space between you closes as he stands dangerously close to you. 

“But there’s one thing I think they got wrong,” he counters.

You tense up as your mind reels. His voice lowers and he adds, “I’m willing to bet you’re not as good as they say you are.” 

Your brow twitches in annoyance at his bold claim. Just who does he think he is? 

You clench your jaw, biting down the urge to snap back. He’s your superior. You can’t just yell at him and let him have it, not this early in the semester at least. Thus, you settle for tense questioning. “And just what is that supposed to mean?”

“I guess we’ll find out,” he insinuates and takes a step back. The distance between the two of you gives you space to breathe, space to fume. “We’ll meet an hour before class to go over the lesson plan. I give a lot of tests over the semester, so come by every afternoon to help with grading.” 

Oh great. 

You’ll be spending most of your week nights with this hot asshole. 

“Understood?” He asks. His cobalt eyes bore into yours as he looks at you expectantly, waiting for your response. 

“Yes sir,” you answer flatly. Despite your lack of enthusiasm, he seems to grin at your agreement. 

“Hm, sir. That’s not something I’m used to hearing from my students,” he teases. There’s a darker look in his eyes that disappears as quickly as you notice it. “Your underclassmen tend to be more… casual around me.”

“And does that bother you?” You ask, suddenly feeling a bit awkward at your apparent odd choice of words. 

“No,” he says, quickly denying it. His voice seems to drop an octave, and he adds, “I prefer it, actually.”

There seems to be something off about the situation, something greater lying behind the surface of his words, but you can’t seem to figure out what greater meaning lies underneath something as simple as an honorific to him. 

The tension is broken after he clears his throat and leans off of the desk upon looking at the clock. “But enough of that,” he starts. “Our first lecture is scheduled to start soon. Let’s start talking about the lesson plan.” 

If there’s one thing you've learned about Professor Touya over the course of the next few weeks, it’s that he’s both fun to talk to yet incredibly strict. He has a penchant for teasing you and the two of you often banter with one another, but despite the growing bond forming between the two of you, he still insists on you calling him sir. 

You suppose he still wants to maintain at least a bit of an aura of professionalism between the two of you. And so, despite how awkward it feels, you continue to address him as such, unaware of the little quirk in his smirk that always follows. 

In speaking with him and sitting in during his lectures, you find yourself being intrinsically drawn to him like a moth to a flame. You reason it’s because you admire his remarkable intelligence, amongst other enigmatic qualities.

He’s driven. Witty. Mysterious. Captivating, even.

With how much he has going for him, it’s no mystery why the university hired him; he’s easily one of the brightest minds in his field, and an engaging professor as well. You could learn from him. 

Yeah. 

That’s all it is. 

You just want to learn from him, is all. 

That’s why you’re gravitating to him.

You don't want to think about him outside of class.

You don’t want to think about the way his attractive smirk gives you butterflies.

You don’t want to think about kissing those soft lips of his as you stare at him speaking.

And you definitely don’t want to think about his fingers descending down your body and touching your aching core. 

You try to avoid thinking about those less than pure daydreams you have about him, both out of self respect for yourself, considering the insulting implication he threw at you during your first meeting, and out of aversion to entertaining lewd ideas about your professor. However, despite this conscious decision, your subconscious has other plans. You find yourself often stealing glances his way, admiring his attractive features, much to your own dismay.

Today is another instance of your subconscious betraying you, and your eyes are now fixated on him, taking in the frustrated scrunch in his brow and tensed shoulders. He abruptly stops setting up the presentation on the computer and walks over towards the windows in the classroom. In an attempt to get respite from the rising heat in the room, he cracks open all the windows. 

“You’d think with the high tuition they’d have enough money to fix this damn AC already,” Professor Touya scoffs. The building’s lack of cool air is a well-known problem, which is why you wore such a thin, short dress today in the first place. It was too damn hot to show up to class wearing much else.

He sighs in annoyance as he unbuttons the cuffs of his shirt and rolls up the sleeves, revealing something that has your breath hitch in your throat.  They start from his wrists and travel up his arms. Shades of purple and blue accent his black ink work, the hues of blue matching his mysterious, cerulean-colored eyes.  From what you’re able to discern, his tattoos go even farther than just his forearms. You wonder just how many he has, and where. The curiosity makes your mind entertain some less than pure ideas, picturing his bare skin and imagining just what kind of ink work he hides underneath his clothes. You try to reign in these fantasies of yours, but you’re too busy drooling over him.

Too busy to even notice that he’s caught you staring. 

He smirks to himself upon seeing you ogling him. His hunch was right, there was something more between the two of you; an unspoken, mutual sexual tension. Though, you seem to be fighting your apparent attraction to him, he could see it in the way you quickly caught yourself and looked away, avoiding looking at him much more at all. He’s hoping he can change that. Maybe he can make you see there’s no shame in it. He’d be more than happy to indulge your naughty fantasies. 

He lazily glances at the clock, seeing how the scheduled lecture will start shortly. It’s then that he remembers something. He leans closer to you and taps the desk, startling you and flustering you with his sudden closeness, and requests, “Hey, I had some handouts for today’s class printed out upstairs. Will you go pick them up for me?”

“Yes sir, I can do that,” you agree. 

“Thanks, sweetheart,” he says. And with that, you leave the class and head to the printing room. Shortly after you leave, a couple students trickle into the room, all belonging to the same close-knit clique of fraternity members. They each take their usual seats and continue to talk amongst themselves freely. Their conversation is painfully loud. He can hear them all the way from the front of the classroom, even though they sit far in the back. 

“Aw man, that hot TA isn’t here today,” one of the frat boys bemoans. “She’s usually around before class.”

“Fucking bummer,” another complains. “Was hoping to get her number.”

“Yeah, wouldn’t mind getting a piece of that,” the other agrees. “She’s a total fucking nerd but I bet she’d be a decent fuck.” They all loudly laugh at that comment and continue making their comments about you. 

He knows their type, and just how it would end for you should you associate with them. Besides the fact that they’re all idiots and that alone would be enough to disappoint you, you would be wasted on them. Those frat boys wouldn’t know what to do with a girl like you. They wouldn’t know how to make you cum. They wouldn’t make you completely dumb with pleasure. There’s just something special about getting a normally smart girl to completely fall apart for him, to give a girl so much pleasure that everything else melts away. And truthfully, he wants to take you there. He wants to see just what it would take to fuck you stupid. He has to know, just how much pleasure does it take to turn your brain to mush.

His desire for you is why these frat boys irk him so much. They casually talk about seducing you into their bed like you’re an easy lay. But the fun that comes with you is the cat and mouse game, the deliberation in your brain between suppressing your attraction towards him and wanting to cave into your own desires. Your little errand couldn’t have come at a better time. He’s glad you’re not here to give them an opportunity to make a move on you, but he can’t keep sending you away before class starts to spare you the misfortune of these idiots making a pass at you. 

No.

He needs to send a little message to the competition. 

And lucky for him, he’s got just the idea. 

More students start filing in as he makes his plans. He has everything thought out, and all that is left is the final piece: you. But shortly before Professor Touya starts the lecture, you make it inside the classroom, papers in hand. You attempt to start passing out the handouts, when he stops you in your tracks. He takes the stack of sheets from your hands and haphazardly tosses them aside.

“I thought they needed that for today?” You ask, thrown off by the apparent change in plans. 

“Nah, we’ll just have them copy the diagram themselves for today. I saw some research that suggested it helps more with memorization. You’ve seen their test grades, the students need all the help they can get,” he lies. You can’t help but genuinely chuckle at his light jab at his own students. As much as you think it’s a waste to discard the handouts– if Professor Touya believes it’ll help the students, you won’t argue with him. 

“Alright, whatever you say, sir,” you laugh. The lecture starts as it normally does and follows the previously discussed lesson plan, until it comes time to show the students the diagram. He turns to you mid-lecture, about to ask you for some sort of assistance. 

“You’ve got better art skills than me. Draw this diagram. Top of page ninety,” Professor Todoroki instructs. He slides over his copy of the textbook, pages turned to a rather complicated figure. It’s far too much information to draw from memory. 

“Sure thing,” you answer. You pick up a marker and uncap it, before holding the textbook in the crook of your arm. You’re about to start copying the figure near the bottom of the board when he interrupts you. 

“Ah, I’m going to write more notes there in a minute. Why don’t you put it over here instead?” He points far up the whiteboard to some blank space tucked in the upper corner. Your stomach sinks at seeing where he wants you to place the diagram. You’re regretting wearing such a short dress today. But still, short dress or not, you have to do this. Maybe… Maybe you can manage it, without flashing the entire class? 

Without much of a choice, you study the diagram, balancing the heavy textbook in one hand while you reach up the whiteboard with a dry-erase marker in hand. You start to stand up on the tips of your toes and you try to aim for a slightly closer area of blank space, all the while your mind is preoccupied with the hem of your skirt. You’re dangerously close to accidentally erasing all of his previous notes, something you’re not too keen on doing given his strictness. 

“Having trouble?” Professor Touya teases, with an amused grin on his face. 

“No, ‘m fine,” you lie. Not that you would admit it to him, but it’s more than just a bit awkward to both hold onto the book and stand up high to draw the figure. 

“Here, let me,” he insists. He comes up behind you, his crotch just barely brushing against your ass. Your breath gets caught in your throat at your body involuntarily stiffens. You internally cringe at how something so simple as a passing touch makes your body feel hot. 

He plucks the textbook from your hands, allowing you a bit more freedom of motion to stand up higher and draw with precision. He sidles up next to you and holds the book open for you. Still, even with his help, it’s still hard to draw exactly where he wants you to. Your dress already feels rather high on your legs as is, you’re sure disaster would happen should you stand up higher. 

“Come on, you’re almost there, just stand up a little more,” he encourages and goads. You almost jolt when you feel a warm hand touch your waist, egging you on to push the envelope just a little further. Not wanting to disobey him, you do as he says, though the regret is instant. The skirt of your dress hikes over your hips and reveals the curve of your ass. A sharp, hushed silence sweeps over the room. Your ears feel like they’re burning and tears are welling up in your eyes at the sheer humiliation you feel in this moment. You draw the figure anyways, albeit carelessly and sloppily. 

You just want this to be over. 

But since your back is turned to the class, you’re completely unaware of the silent exchange happening between Professor Touya and the frat boys in the back row. While you are doing as he asked, ever his obedient assistant, he’s busy glowering at his competition. 

The message is clear. 

You are off limits. 

When the diagram is finally drawn, you straighten back out and place your feet flat on the ground. You should be a bit relieved when your dress finally covers your body once more, but you’re unable to feel that respite. The damage is done, and you’re now left to simmer in your own embarrassment. 

“Is that all you needed from me, sir?” You ask, voice barely above a whisper and thick with emotion. There’s a lump in your throat forming as you fight back the urge to cry. 

“Yeah, that’s all, sweetheart,” he answers, in a manner that’s almost a subtle attempt at soothing you. You let out a shaky, uneven breath. 

“Okay,” you say through a tense sigh. Your voice cracks when you speak once more, “I-I’ll be in your office to… get started on grading.”

You dismiss yourself and nearly rush out of the classroom, all too eager to distance yourself from the source of your shame. Once you’re in the safety of the hallways, you freely let the tears flow down your face. You’re at least thankful the halls are somewhat sparse, meaning that few are able to see you fall apart like this. The last thing you can handle emotionally is someone asking you what happened or if you were okay. Talking about it would just make the humiliation much more real.  

When you finally reach Professor Touya’s office, you close the blinds on his door behind you and prop yourself up against the desk with your hands. You try to recollect yourself, to no avail. Your shame just eats away at you. But at least with his office so far out of the way of all other classes and the blinds drawn down, no one can see you fall apart like this. You can stew in your emotions somewhat privately, at least until Professor Touya gets back. 

Professor Touya.

You want to sneer at the thought of him. The more you think about what happened during the lecture, the more you can’t help but assume he wanted to embarrass you on purpose, like the asshole he is. He enjoys toying with you too much, but this time, he really went too far. You think you’ve been much too cordial with him. When he gets back, you swear you’ll give him a piece of your mind. Fuck professionalism, that was thrown out the window when he forced your hand and caught a peek up your dress. 

Speak of the devil, or rather, think of the devil, and he appears. More time than you thought must have passed while you were smoldering in your feelings, as Professor Touya leisurely strolls into his office, now apparently finished with the lecture. You wipe your tears on the back of your hand, trying to make yourself look a little less weak in front of him and steeling your nerves to tell him off. 

“So what the hell was that about, huh? Why do you get off on being an absolute dick to me? I know you did that shit on purpose,” you accuse. He makes his way over to you and stands in front of you, partially caging you against the desk. The close proximity to him makes you feel hot with what you assume is indignation.

Yeah, that’s what this feeling is.

You despise him.

He doesn’t say anything, instead choosing to let you vent out your frustrations, taking the spite you hurl at him. You’re very much angry at him, filled with so much frustration that your voice is unsteady as you yell, “You’re such a fucking ass. And for what! I did nothing to you, I’ve been nothing but helpful and polite. What could possibly make you want to humiliate me like that? What have I done to make you hate me like this?”

“Oh sweetheart, I don’t hate you,” he soothes. His voice sounds much more husky when he adds, “Quite the opposite, actually.”

“Well I still think you’re an asshole for that little stunt you pulled, even if it wasn’t because you hated me,” you counter, speaking in between breaks in your voice. There’s still tears breaking past your lash line as a consequence of feeling so heated. Your emotions are only further worsened by the confusion you feel. If it wasn’t a malicious attempt to knock you down, why would he do such a thing to you? 

“I know, I know,” he agrees. “How about I make it up to you then?”

“How could you possibly make it up to me?” You question as your voice cracks under the weight of your emotions. You move to wipe your face when he beats you to the punch, brushing away the tears falling down your cheek with his thumb. His hand stays on your face and he tilts your chin to him, angling your face closer to his.  

“Well, I could start by making you feel good, give you something else to think about,” he insinuates. Your breath gets caught in your throat at his implication. “I know you feel it too, this tension between us. I’d love to indulge your fantasies about me, if you’d let me.”

You part your lips, searching for the right words and the strength to reject him, but with his face hovering tantalizingly close to yours, lips mere inches away, you realize you don’t have it in you. 

Fuck. 

You want him so bad. 

“P-please,” you whisper. He has a shit eating grin on his face at your meek and embarrassed begging. 

“What was that? You’ll need to speak up, sweetheart, I can’t hear you,” he teases. You swallow the lump in your throat, and lock eyes with him. 

“Please, make me feel good,” you say again, this time with a little more conviction. 

“Atta girl,” he praises. And with your agreeance, he closes the distance between the two of you and slots his mouth against yours. A gasp escapes you at the feeling of his lips working against your own. Your yearning and daydreaming didn’t prepare you for the intensity of this, for the pure wanting behind every movement of his lips. 

The kiss becomes more and more heated as he presses his body further against yours, leaving little space between the two of you. His tongue dips out from his mouth and runs along the seam of your lips and you part slightly, allowing him the space to slip the wet muscle inside. You find yourself shuddering at the contact and gripping onto the fabric of his button up as a way to tether yourself in this moment. It’s almost a bit embarrassing just how much you’re melting into his touch from something as simple as kissing. Your body is eating it up regardless, sending waves of warmth throughout your entire being and pooling between your legs. 

“Can I touch you?” He asks, after parting from the kiss, his breath fanning over your lips. Although you’ve been dreaming about this moment, and you desperately want to feel his touch all over you, your mind can’t help but chime in; you shouldn’t. 

You really shouldn’t. 

But with his hardening cock pressing up against your stomach and professionalism now abandoned, you throw caution to the wind and give in. You give him a nod and allow his hands to roam over your body. It’s almost dizzying to feel his touch, especially when his hands palm your chest and grope your ass, squeezing the plush flesh in his hands. He dives back in to press his lips up against yours in an intense, crushing kiss once more. You whimper against him, flustered at the feeling of his hot touch over your clothes. You’re becoming drunk on lust just from touches alone. 

Your arousal is heightened as the hands at your ass trail to the front, reaching your hips, before snaking up your dress. His fingers press against your clothed mound. He smirks into the kiss upon feeling the wetness already clinging against the fabric. 

You whine at the loss of friction when his fingers pull back, but the absence of his touch is short-lived. He hooks his fingers under the waistband of your panties and tugs the clothing down your thighs. You part your legs to allow him to completely rid you of them, leaving your cunt now bare before him. You’re glad the blinds on his door are drawn, preventing anyone else from seeing the debauched sight of your panties on the floor in front of your professor. 

The pads of his fingers teasingly trace up your inner thighs, slowly inching bit by bit up your legs and making his way to your aching core. You let out an involuntary gasp when he finally grazes your pussy, his touch now no longer separated by a layer of clothing. 

His fingers run up and down your folds, spreading your juices over yourself and teasingly avoiding sinking into your eager hole. You squirm and jolt every time the tips of his fingers brush against your clit. His warm touch on your engorged bundle of nerves sends jolts of pleasure up your spine. The embarrassment and shame melts away into pure, unadulterated desire with every drag of his fingers over your slit, leaving you wetter and wetter. Your slick coats his fingers as he grazes over your hole. He looks down to see his skin glistening with your wetness, causing him to suck in a breath at the sight. 

Realizing he’s teasing himself by waiting any longer, he decides to give you what you’ve been wanting. Two fingers finally dip inside of your heat, slowly at first. You let out a breathy moan as his digits sink into you. When they bottom out inside of you, you want to squirm at how full you feel with just his fingers alone. They’re the perfect combination of long and thick, stretching out your cunt with ease. 

A sharp inhale escapes you when he slowly pulls out, almost entirely, before pumping back inside of you. He sets an agonizingly slow pace at first as he watches your every reaction, studying what movements and angles have you panting for him. Ever observant, he effortlessly finds your most sensitive spots and hones in on them before quickening his pace. 

Your legs tremble and shake with every harsh thrust of his fingers, bringing you closer and closer to cumming with little effort on his part. He knows just how to curl them up, just how to press the ball of his hand against your clit, just how to get you panting for him. The relentless pumping of his fingers in and out of your hole sends floods of wetness to your core, coating his fingers with your slick. Moans loudly tumble out of your mouth when he slips another into your heat. Though as much as he’s enjoying hearing your slutty moans, he seems distracted. 

He puts his palm over your mouth and leans into your ear. “Shhh, someone’s coming,” he hushes. “Might wanna quiet down unless you want your classmates to barge in and see your pussy full with my fingers.”

You don’t have to see him to know he’s smirking at the comment, feeding off of your apparent embarrassment. The sounds of footsteps and talking nears closer and closer to the door. Knowing your classmates are nearing the door while your legs are obscenely spread for your professor and stuffed full of his thick fingers makes you feel hot with humiliation and overwhelmed with panic, but the pleasure Touya gives you is too much to give up. And so, you bite back your moans in an attempt to stay completely silent. Your body tenses with the risk of getting caught, causing you to clench down even tighter around his fingers. But even though you’re desperately fighting back the urge to whine and wail for him, with very obvious strain, the bastard keeps pumping in and out of you. You just hope the sound of wet squelching isn’t audible through the door.

“I can’t see in, the blinds are closed. Is he not here today?” A student asks, her question partially muffled through Touya’s office door. 

“No, he’s here. My roommate just left his class a while ago,” another student replies. The door knob jiggles as she tries to open the door. You hold your breath, expecting it to swing open and to be caught in the act. 

Only, it never happens. 

The knob refuses to yield to the student’s attempts. She mutters out of frustration, “Damn, must be in a meeting right now. His office is locked.” 

“Huh, I guess we’ll come back tomorrow,” the other classmate shrugs.

You sigh in relief, letting some of the tension dissipate. So long as you’re quiet, you can make it through this without anyone knowing what went on in his office. Still, even that is proving to be a challenge with the way his fingers continue to slam in and out of your pussy. Your knuckles turn white as you grip onto the desk like it’s your lifeline, pouring all your urge to moan into tensing your hands. His half-lidded, cobalt eyes stay trained on your face, seemingly searching for something, while a lazy and smug expression plasters his own face. 

A change in the angle of his fingers sends shockwaves of pleasure through your body and a stifled squeal wrangles past your lips. He snickers at your failed attempts at staying quiet. You instantly feel yourself sweating, either from the anxiety or from quickly racing towards your peak, you’re unable to discern. Hopefully the students didn’t pick up on it.

Much to your horror, one of the students speaks, “Wait, did you hear that?”

“No? What’d you hear?” The other asks in confusion. You cringe, worrying that their curiosity will lead to your social downfall. If they know someone is in there, they’ll demand you answer them. Should that happen, you’re sure Professor Touya will make you answer the door. Not only that, but with the way he’s eating up your embarrassment, you worry he’d make you answer their questions, all the while he still fingers you out of view.

“It was like… a squeak or something,” she explains. 

“Might have been a mouse, this building is super old ya’ know,” the other offers. 

The suspicious student laughs and says in disgust, “Ew, let’s just get the hell out of here. Lab starts in 5 minutes anyways.”

You can’t seem to hear the sound of their footsteps leaving over the sound of your heartbeat in your ears and the wet noises of your cunt gushing around his fingers. Evidently, Touya hears. “They’re gone, sweetheart,” he whispers against the shell of your ear. The feeling of his breath against your ear has you shuddering in response. His hand retracts from your face, no longer muffling your sounds. “Since we’re alone again, why don’t you let me hear those loud, slutty sounds of yours, yeah?” 

He starts to mouth your neck, intermixing his kisses with rougher bites against the delicate skin of your throat, leaving behind blooms of teeth marks and hickeys in his wake. It’s almost as if he wants everyone on campus to talk, like he wants your classmates to know you slept with him; the marks all over your neck damning evidence of your hookup. The sensation of his lips all over you  and the curving of his fingers against that bundle of nerves inside you has you keening for him, whines now freely escaping your mouth. 

“A-ah, feels so good,” you moan with a drawn out voice. He thrusts his fingers in and out of you in earnest, spurred on by your sweet sounds echoing in his office. You let out a choked noise upon feeling him speed up, and your walls clench down on his fingers, sucking them further into your heat. He can tell you’re quickly nearing your peak with the way your pussy flutters around him, contracting wildly.  

He pulls away from your neck and mutters against your skin, his breath fanning over the sensitive flesh, “Yeah, my fingers fucking your cunt feel that good? Gonna come on fingers then?”

The sound of his deep voice spewing such filthy words pushes you over the edge. Your orgasm crashes into you like a harsh wave, stealing your breath away at the impact. You loudly moan as your cunt contracts around his fingers, all the while he continues to pump in and out of you, working you through your release. True to his orders, you gush around him, and your slick freely leaks from your sensitive hole. He finally relents and pulls out of you when you squirm from the overstimulation, attempting to wriggle away from the excessive pleasure. A pleased smirk paints his face upon seeing his fingers glisten with your wetness in the light. The sight gives him an idea, one that goes straight to his cock just at the thought.

“Open up,” he commands. The fingers wet with your juices hover over your lips, waiting for you to follow his demands. You shyly part your lips, allowing his fingers to slip into you. The tang of your own slick touches your tongue and you hold eye contact with him as your mouth closes around his fingers. 

The feeling of your tongue swirling around his digits and the sight of your lips closing around him has his mind racing. He can’t help but think of how your mouth would feel on his cock and how filthy you would look on your knees for him, pretty face nestled against his pelvis and teary doe eyes looking up at him. But he’ll save that for another time.

He needs more than just your mouth right now. 

Once his fingers are sufficiently cleaned off by your tongue, he pulls them out. He surges forward and kisses you, sliding his tongue past your lips. The taste of you still lingers in your mouth. He lewdly moans into the kiss, feeling that much hornier upon sampling your taste. 

“Shit,” he curses against your lips after pulling back. “You taste so good.” He dives back in, passionately kissing you once more and tangling his tongue with yours. “Fuck, sweetheart. I’d bend you over this desk and devour this cunt, but I’m just dying to be inside you.”

“I need it, I want it too. Please, take me,” you beg. Never once did you anticipate you’d be begging for your professor to fuck you in earnest. Never once did you think you’d see the smirk on his face at your lewd pleading. And you certainly didn’t believe you’d ever feel his hands slide under your dress and lift it over you, unclasping your bra along with it, leaving you bare before him. 

He pulls back from you and starts to unbuckle his belt. The sound of the metal clinking in the room makes your ears burn at the lewdness and your pussy clench in anticipation. He frees himself from the confines of his dark jeans, leaving you salivating at the sight of him. 

You want to drool upon seeing how he’s quite thick and long, with prominent veins running along his shaft. You’re then pushed down flush against the top of his desk, splayed over a mess of papers, and he hooks one of your legs over his shoulders. Your breath hitches when he positions his cock in between your folds with his other hand and runs the head up and down your slit, collecting the slick dripping from you and lubing his cock. 

He locks eyes with you as he finally pushes the tip in, relishing in your expression as he slowly slips in, inch by inch. Meanwhile, your full attention is focused on the way his thickness stretches you out and how the veins on his shaft drag against your walls as he sinks into you. You feel a bit breathless when he finally bottoms out and his tip kisses your cervix. 

He starts to pull his hips back until his cock nearly slips out, before pushing back into you and filling you up once more. You feel completely stuffed. True to his words, you can’t think about anything else, the embarrassment you felt frowning more and more distant in your mind and being replaced by sheer, mind numbing pleasure. 

But when he really starts rutting in and out of you? 

Your brain is filled with cotton. He can tell by the way your eyes glaze over and soft moans sound from your parted, panting lips that he’s slowly fucking you stupid. It fills him with a bit of pride to see you being reduced to a brainless, horny mess for him, and the realization goes straight to his cock. 

“T-touya,” you stammer and moan upon feeling his thrusts increase in tempo. You never called him by his first name before, but now that he’s inside of you, it was reasonable for you to believe the two of you are well past formalities. 

“It’s still sir to you,” he growls, correcting your slip up. He punctuates his statement with a hard and deep thrust, making you sharply gasp. His stern voice draws a shudder out of you and you find yourself clenching down on him. 

“‘M sorry, s-sir,” you apologize. You can feel his cock throb in your walls at the honorific. Even through your lust clouded mind, you put the pieces together. 

Oh.

That’s why he liked you calling him sir. 

“Yeah, that’s better,” he breathes. “Like the sound of that out of your mouth more than my name. Keep it up, sweetheart.”

Spurred on by your words, he hooks your other leg over his shoulder, slightly raising you off of the desk and angling his thrusts to hit even deeper inside of you. You grip onto the edges of the table as he fucks into you harder. 

He’s canting into you so deeply and sharply that the desk shakes with every harsh clap of his hips against your thighs. Papers scatter onto the floor, picture frames fall flat on the table top, pens spill out of their holders and clatter onto the ground, all the while he chases one goal: to make you a stupid, incoherent mess from his cock. 

His pace quickens and you bite down on your knuckle in an attempt to muffle your whines and moans, not wanting to fill the entire wing of the building with the sounds of sex. You feel the pleasure rapidly building as he hammers into you, pressing up against that sponges bundle of nerves along your walls. It’s easy to tell he is feeling the same, as more and more deep moans and curses tumble from his lips while he ruts into you. The sound of his voice moaning out for you combined with the angle of his cock pushes you to the verge of orgasming. 

“Hah, fuck. ‘M close. Wanna cum, sir. Please make me cum,” you desperately beg. He throbs at your dumbified state and from the word sir coming out of your mouth. 

Shit, he’s getting close too. 

“Yeah? You gonna make a mess all over these papers then?” He asks, amid pants. He becomes drunk at just the thought of you cumming and dripping all over his cock. It sends a shock wave of pleasure straight between his legs and he rambles on, “Think you can squirt f’me too?” His hips brutally snap into yours, giving you the friction you need to finally be pushed over the edge. 

“Yes, yes, yes, yes, fuck!” You chant, slurring each of your words in drunken pleasure. You finally fall apart with a silent scream, and just as he was hoping, you gush around him.

“That’s it, cream all over my fucking cock, sweetheart,” he encourages. Strings of your slick cling to his cock and snap with every clap of his pelvis against your skin. He continues to thrust in and out of you, recklessly chasing his own release as you lay below him, now teetering on the edge of overstimulation. 

Your pussy clamping down on him and your walls fluttering finally pushes him over. His hips stutter and he cums with a deep groan, painting your insides white. 

He stills, momentarily keeping his cock nestled in your walls, as he lowers your legs back down against the desk. Slowly, he pulls out of you, glancing down between your legs to see your combined releases leaking out of your hole. He watches, eyes transfixed, as his seed slowly starts seeping out of you and pooling on the sheets below. 

The two of you really did a number on his desk, and his entire office, for that matter. You lay there on the table, dazed and panting, attempting to catch your breath and come back down from your high. He can’t help but smugly chuckle at your dumbified state, before he tucks himself back into his pants. 

“What a mess you’ve made,” he teases. He walks off and heads to the door, about to leave, when he turns over his shoulder and adds, “Make sure to clean up after yourself.” 

You steal a glimpse at the wrecked state of the desk, partially horrified at the wetness pooling between your legs and onto the assignments and handouts. You stare at the wet spots on the sheets of paper. 

Fuck. 

Maybe it’ll dry off. 

You hope so, at least. 

Your face burns when you walk into his classroom the next day. You make eye contact with him as you go to stand near the computer, bringing up the PowerPoint for the lecture. The situation is more than just awkward. 

How do you proceed from here? 

You’re not even sure what to say to him, if you’re supposed to greet him as usual. Your mouth feels dry from nervousness, and you take a drink from your water bottle. A student then walks up to Professor Touya, thankfully taking the heat off of you to speak to him. 

“Professor Touya?” The student starts, preparing to ask him some sort of question. 

“Yes, what is it?” He answers. 

“Did you spill something on my papers?” The student confronts. You choke on your drink as he presents his graded assignment that looks to be partially sullied by water damage, only you and Professor Touya both know- that is definitely not water. 

“Hm, good question. I’m not sure, my TA graded most of these,” he deflects, feigning ignorance. He thinks for a moment, before snapping his fingers and saying, “You know what? Why don’t you ask her? She might know what happened.” 

To your horror, the student takes his suggestion, turning to you and interrogating, “What is this? Is this milk?” 

“Haha, yeah. Milk. It’s just milk,” you force out. You wish you could crawl into a hole and disappear at this moment from the sheer amount of embarrassment you feel. You awkwardly apologize, “Um, sorry about that.” 

“I mean, it’s okay I guess. Accidents happen,” the student shrugs.  

“Alright, if that’s all, we have to set up for today’s lecture. If you’ll excuse us,” Professor Touya intervenes. The student then walks off to take his seat as other students start trickling in. With the student now out of earshot, you confront him. 

“I hate you so much right now,” you say. “That was so embarrassing!” He chuckles at your situation, evidently very entertained by your dismay.

But as much as this circumstance embarrasses you, you can’t help but want more of last night, ruined papers be damned. Feeling bold, you ask, “Make it up to me?”

He gives you a cocky smirk, thrilled to know you want to be fucked dumb yet again. “Sure thing, sweetheart,” he agrees. “I’ll be waiting in my office whenever you want me.”

Tags: @the-milk-anon , @mirayasimpinghard

[artiststarme]

I always see fics about Eddie hurting Steve but I never see any about Steve hurting Eddie. So here you go! I hope you guys like it and please leave your thoughts in the comments.

~*~*~*~

Eddie knew that Steve had good intentions and he knew that he was blowing things out of proportion. However, he was so sick of not having control over anything in his life that things were bound to blow up at some point. Between not graduating high school with the rest of his year, being put on house arrest for several months while waiting for his name to clear, and dealing with his life-altering injuries, Eddie was a miniscule way away from breaking down entirely. 

Unfortunately, Steve was the last crack that it took for his whole facade to shatter. 

Eddie didn’t have control over anything. He couldn’t make the townspeople believe his side of things or in his innocence. He couldn’t walk across the stage to pick up his diploma like he’d dreamed of doing for years. He couldn’t even breathe too deeply some days in fear of awakening a flare of chronic pain. 

What he could do though was keep a tidy trailer. He’d taken to organizing the fridge and cabinets in the kitchen in a way that only made sense to him. He’d color-coded his DnD notebooks and tapes in his room. Hell, he’d even organized Wayne’s remaining mug collection in order from most to least flattering colors. He had a system now in his home and it was quite literally the only thing keeping him together. 

So when Wayne dropped him off at home after a particularly grueling physical therapy session and found the kitchen reorganized, he might have lost it a little bit. And when he opened the fridge to find his travel cup of coffee missing, what other option did he have than to cry? He burst into loud, ugly sobs and melted to the floor. It wouldn’t help the pain in his scars when he tried to get back up but he needed to feel close to gravity again. 

Steve came running out of Eddie’s bedroom at the first cry and sunk to his knees beside him desperately. “Eddie, what’s wrong? Are you hurt? Can you answer me?”

“Where’s my coffee? I had it on the door of the fridge but now it’s gone. Where is it?” He asked frantically. 

Steve just shook his head, “Eds, it was almost empty and it’s been there for days so I threw it away.”

There went his last shred of sanity. “I made it today! It was fine, you had no right to throw it away! That was the only thing I’ve been looking forward to! Fuck!”

“Eds, relax. There’s another coffee in there and you shouldn’t be drinking so much coffee anyways. The kitchen was really disorganized so I cleaned it up for you, I thought you’d be happy,” Steve said. 

Eddie just shook his head in response, tears still dripping from his face. “I’m the one that organized it! I have a fucking system, Steve! This is the one thing that I can control and you took it away! I asked you not to mess with anything, but you did it anyway.”

Steve just looked at him in confusion, “I just wanted to help-”

“Please leave, I can’t do this right now.” He needed to sob his emotions out in peace and then take a long, grieving nap. 

“Are we breaking up?” Steve whispered.

“No, I’m mad at you because you threw my coffee away and fucked up my system. I’ll call you later just… please leave for now. Please,” Eddie begged him. 

Steve shrugged, picked up his keys, and walked out the door. Then, Eddie was alone with a disastrously organized kitchen and a lack of coffee. They would talk this out later and establish boundaries so this never happened again. But for now, Eddie was alone with his depression, pain, and angst. With little else to do, he tucked his face into his knees and cried. 

Permanent tag list: @doubleb11 @nburkhardt @zerokrox-blog @newtstabber @i-less-than-three-you @carlyv @pyrohonk @straight4joekeery @trippypancakes @conversesweetheart @estrellami-1 @suddenlyinlove @yikes-a-bee @swimmingbirdrunningrock @perseus-notjackson @anaibis @merricatty @maya-custodios-dionach @grtwdsmwhr @manda-panda-monium @lumoschild @goodolefashionedloverboi @mentallyundone @awkwardgravity1

[nickblaine]

season 4 script summaries

previous script summaries: season 3, season 2, season 1, seasons 1/2 cont’d also, check my tht scripts tag for gifs, excerpts, and more details

good news! there are no deleted Nick/Osblaine scenes in season 4. i’ll just be summarizing the subtext that is written into the script and comparing differences to the onscreen version.

before i begin:

• everything described here is from the official scripts that are archived at the Writers Guild in Los Angeles. • the scripts i read are final drafts. there is no “writing in the margins.” everything described here is from dialogue and script direction that was used on set during filming. (you can see an example of what these scripts look like in the 4x07/4x10 links below.) • the library has strict no copies/photos rules in place which is why i can only summarize what i read. • anything in italics is a direct quote for the sake of clarity. • feel free to ask questions and i’ll answer to the best of my ability. my private notes are pretty detailed, but if i need to do more research i may save the answer for a future library visit. • please do not share this post without my permission. thank you in advance for respecting my wishes.

4x01

In prison, Nick is very aware of the Guardian in the room and can’t speak openly because of it. He speaks in code to warn Lawrence that he’s going to be executed and thank him for helping June. This establishes a pattern of Commander Blaine using Gilead code to communicate, as seen in several future scenes.

4x02

When June sees Nick at the farm, she knows immediately that he is there to arrest her.

It’s implied that Nick asking where the Handmaids are is code to June so she knows they are okay. (This is confirmed in the next episode when he does it again.)

June spends a good minute considering shooting the Eyes in a blaze of glory and making this her last stand. Nick “jerks her attention away from the decision” by saying “don’t” and telling her that he’s trying to keep her alive.

The scene ends with June saying “fuck you” before the Eyes swarm her, but this line wasn’t in the final cut.

4x03

In the van, June is “stung by [Nick’s] betrayal.”

Nick can’t speak freely to June because he assumes there are eavesdroppers. He uses code to “pass along news” to her that Mrs. Keyes is safe and the Handmaids are still free. June finds this news a relief.

Nick asks where the Handmaids are and when June doesn’t give him an answer, he actually warns her in a low voice (uncoded) that she isn’t strong enough to take what the Eyes will dish out if she doesn’t turn them in. This wasn’t in the show.

When Nick quotes the bible to her - “June hears this for what it is -- an honest wish for the woman he loves.” But Lydia “breaks the connection.”

Moving onto the Nick and Lawrence scene... I want to be clear, Nick does not expect Hannah to be used against June. This is not present in the script at all. All he asks of Lawrence is to get June to talk before the Eyes kill her, with no expectation of how it’s done. He is only thinking of keeping her alive.

Also, throughout the Nick/Lawrence scene, Lawrence thinks about Eleanor a lot. “Some women just don’t want to be saved” was a direct reference to her. Lawrence compares Nick’s love for June to his love for Eleanor, and is struck by “the simplicity of [Nick’s] wish [to keep June alive.]” But he really believes Nick needs to just let her go, like he had to let go of Eleanor. This is why he refuses to help until Nick threatens him.

Speaking of, Nick’s veiled threats are what makes Lawrence decide to take him a little more seriously.

The scene where Hannah doesn’t recognize June was written to be much shorter than what we saw onscreen. Hannah was actually supposed to be muzzled, and just the sight of her crying through the muzzle is enough to shake June into giving up the Handmaids.

The meeting on the bridge was scripted a little differently than what we see onscreen. Lizzie's directing softened the scene quite a bit.

June is muzzled, and being transferred to the Birthmobile on foot when Nick joins her side, whispering apologies as he walks with her. She ignores him until he says Hannah is safe at home. June stops and starts breaking down crying. Nick reaches out and touches her shoulder, “letting his finger trace the skin of her neck.” June reacts by embracing him. The guards try to pull them apart, but Nick just gives them a look. “He’s a Commander,” so the guards stop and let her go. Nick removes her muzzle and she cries about Hannah being scared of her. There’s a line here that I love, I have to quote in full—

“NICK: She loves you.

June tries to believe this.

NICK: I love you.

This, June believes.”

June then realizes she may never see Nick again and kisses him goodbye. Very little script direction here, it’s simply described as “just one long moment.” Then the guards lead her away.

Also, it says in the script that Alma and Brianna are hit by the train because one of the Handmaids was shot and they both reached back to help her as she was falling, causing them to miss the opening before the train hit. Janine was just dissociating and humming songs to herself the whole time, not as upset as we see her onscreen.

4x04

I just want to note here that the script confirms Janine’s current age is 23. After she changes out of her Handmaid uniform, “she looks like the 23-year-old kid she is.”

4x05

June spends this whole episode irritated at Janine and Stephen’s relationship because she feels like she failed to protect Janine, which is part of a recurring theme of June feeling like a failure throughout this season. Janine has to remind June by the end of the episode that she doesn’t need saving, and June is only trying to do so to make herself feel better.

There is no scripted response to Lawrence’s “would your heart glow” line. So Nick’s laugh was entirely unscripted lol.

The script specifically refers to Lorraine and Reese (the Marthas) as Nick’s “black market contacts.” As we know from s1, Nick has always had a connection to Gilead’s black market.

When Lorraine goes off on Nick about June, she and Reese expect a scolding from him because it’s “a suicidal way for a Martha to talk to a member of the Eyes.” But Nick just apologizes on June’s behalf, surprising them both.

In the show Nick says “I care about her” but in the script it was: “She’s all I care about. In the world.”

The Marthas are “surprised by his vulnerability, but Lorraine stays icy.” Her scripted response was actually supposed to be: “Swipe left. You’re better off without her.”

Reese hangs back and offers help to Nick because, as she says to him, “I loved someone in Gilead once, too.”

In regards to the council meeting - if I’m understanding correctly (because the scripts are kind of vague and more focused on the soapy aspects of the political standoff in this episode) - Lawrence’s goal is to get sanctions lifted, but when the council turns him down he shifts his plan to get on the council himself so he can pursue his reformation goals unopposed. This is why he agreed to bombing the ceasefire that he proposed in the first place.

Not much is said about Nick’s reaction to ordering the bombing, besides the fact that it catches him off guard and he “looks shaken by his orders to bomb June.“

4x06

When Moira confronts June trying to abandon ship and tells her that Luke never gave up on her after all those years, there was a cut part of that line where Moira said: “[Luke’s] a good guy. And he handled it pretty well when you had a baby with another man.“

4x07

Click here to read the full script that is available to the public.

4x09

When Luke suggested they ask Nick for help with Hannah, there’s not too much script direction, but there are a few interesting lines. When she says Nick would do anything for her and Holly, Luke finds that “both hurtful and hopeful.”

June is floored that Luke “is encouraging a meeting with her former lover? It’s incredibly strange. And also enticing.” It also says she had “put her relationship with Nick behind her. Locked it away. Now Luke has opened the door again.”

When she agrees to meet with Nick, Luke is described as “pleased, yet uneasy.”

As June heads off to see Nick, she and Luke are both “on edge.”

There was actually a cut moment between them and Mark before she leaves. After Mark tells her his officers will be nearby, he gives her a panic button FOB to call them if she needs help. This makes Luke freak out a little. He tells June she’s not going unless it’s safe. She doesn’t like that and insists she can take care of herself. Mark explains that while he has used this location for meetings before, he “can’t vouch for the party involved” because - in Mark’s words - “[Nick] does have a history of violence and allegiance to Gilead.” But June shuts both men down with: “He’d never hurt me or Nichole. I vouch for him. Completely.”

Once June is in the car, she exhales. “There’s no facade to put on for Luke, now that she’s alone.” She looks back at Holly and says, “Okay, we’re off. Excited to see your Dad? Yeah?“ then she smiles at Holly and says “me too.”

When she finally sees Nick, “their eyes lock. They’re both tentative. Unsure. It’s amazing to be together again, yet it doesn’t feel real.”

Nick is described as “almost overcome, so happy and relieved to see June alive and healthy.”

When they move inside, Nick tries to help June with the stroller and he’s described as “awkward” lol.

As we see in the episode, June is moved by Nick’s folder of Hannah intel. After this, “her official mission has been accomplished. She can leave. She doesn’t want to.”

The kiss has very little direction, as usual it’s all Max and Lizzie’s chemistry that makes it so good. “They can’t resist. They kiss, with longing and passion.” Then they move apart “both knowing they shouldn’t go any further.”

Nick was supposed to hold Holly “with love and wonder” per the script, but they couldn’t because of Covid protocols. It does say Holly loves her doll, though.

Their goodbye was also much different in the script. June simply buckles Holly up in the car, tells Nick she can’t thank him enough, and “tries to keep it together.” Nick tells her “keep yourself safe, and be happy.” They share a final look before she gets in the car and leaves.

On the drive home, June is just described as “[getting] emotional, but keeps moving on.”

Nick is described as “stoic, but drained by the experience” before he puts his wedding ring on.

When June returns home, Luke is “relieved” that she returned to him. June collects herself and “she has so many more steps to take, but she’s trying her best to move forward.”

4x10

Click here to read the full script that is available to the public.

[buckybarnesdiaries]

wakanda

bucky barnes x reader. ⎢ masterlist.

Steve gives you Bucky's dog tags for a reason.

word count: 2.4k (lol, sorry)

warnings/tags: none. bucky being a cutie.

author notes: none of my stories contain reader’s body descriptions to be inclusive.

Join the tag list here.

“Welcome to Wakanda, agent (Y/N)”.

A second after you crossed their airspace, you were courteously greeted. The views from your ship were indescribable. Peace invaded you just at the sight of the open fields and the warm colors of autumn. You could get used to that place too. To live in calm, work hand-to-hand with Shuri, and have time to spend it with Bucky. The reason why you were flying there. Removing your right hand from the control and grabbing in a fist the dog tags hanging on your chest, you took a deep breath while closing your eyes before getting ready to land. T’Challa was waiting for you at the entry of his kingdom, accompanied by his excited little sister and some of his guards.

Pressing a sequence of buttons above your head, to pull the control back, the ship went down slowly folding its wings. As you landed and turned off the engineers, you freed yourself from the seatbelt and the huge headphones to step out. Shuri received you with a friendly hug, breaking protocol and being just Shuri. You built a strong relationship since you met a year ago, when you brought Bucky to that beautiful and magical place, to let him recover. To let him rest.

“Your highness”. You uttered to T’Challa crossing your forearms in the traditional salutation of Wakanda.

“Agent (Y/N)”. He corresponded walking closer. “The white wolf asked me to let you know he wouldn’t want to be… bothered with visits today”.

You couldn’t help but frown. The last time you saw him was around three months ago. You usually interchanged letters from week to week, being one of the fewer persons he trusted in. And it wasn’t just a question of trust. Steve told you about his feelings, his shyness, and insecurities, his fears. What Bucky didn’t know, again, it wasn’t a question of trust from you either. That’s why the Captain gave you the dog tags, after more than thirteen years under custody. You wanted to see him, to know if he was happy there as he wrote you in his letters one million times.

“He doesn’t wear his arm here”. Shuri clarified, taking a position close to his brother.

By the look on their faces, you were aware of two things. One, they noticed too that something was growing between Bucky and you, and that it wasn’t a simple friendship. Two, they weren’t going to stop you. Oh, quite the opposite. They’d bring you to him on a golden platter and a big red bow on your head. The king beckoned a hand to urge you to follow him to the inside of the building and use one of their ships to fly above the place to the white wolf’s location.

You were nervous. You didn’t sleep more than a couple of hours last night thinking about him and how he’d react to having back his tags since the forties. Your eyes were focused throughout the window on your left, watching different citizens taking care of animals and plantations, children running from one side to another, playing and having fun. Oblivious to the horror of New York, where you resided. One of the cities in the world with the highest rates of street violence. Serial killers or simply killers, rapists, kidnappers, drug dealers (...). It was a minefield and Wakanda seemed and felt like Heaven.

“Did you think about the offer?” Shuri nudged you to push you back to reality, turning your head towards her.

“Since you dropped it to me”.

“So?”

“I…” You needed to put away your gaze again, focusing on the blue opened sky in front of them. “I want… to consult him first if you don’t mind”.

“Of course, (Y/N)”.

“I don’t want to put his world upside down, now that he’s not the…” You couldn’t finish the sentence. You couldn’t pronounce that detestable nickname and the pain beneath it.

Shuri nodded in silence, not needing your explanations. She knew how you felt. She understood you. The talk didn’t continue, stretching your right hand on your lap to calm your nerves and make you comfortable with the situation. The flight didn’t last longer than five or ten minutes, losing the track of time deep in your thoughts. The pilot indicated to you through the headphones that you were about to land, glancing at a complex of small houses in the middle of nowhere, surrounded by trees and wilderness.

You were the last one jumping outside with your hand grabbing the tags on your chest, trying to find the encouragement there to follow T’Challa’s hand pointing at a man working with goats and collecting hay for them. Licking your lips and assenting with your chin, you guided your steps towards him. Slowly. As if you wanted to turn around at some point. But you knew it was too late when he was the one turning at the sound of your heavy boots cracking the grass under them.

Bucky didn’t look annoyed for your visit, nor the lack of attention to his petition. Although there was something in his pale blue orbs you weren’t able to decipher, until he bowed down his head unconsciously to his left shoulder covered by a dark fabric matching his eyes. You had to do your best to not roll yours, shortening the distance setting you apart. You had been dreaming about that encounter since the last time you were there before Shuri accessed the darkest place of his mind and cleaned it from any trail of HYDRA. Now, he was free. And he looked in good condition as the bags under his eyes had disappeared and his hair was almost tied with a bun. His cheeks seemed a little more chubby and you just wanted to pinch them. But it’d be weird and out of place. For the time being.

Bit by bit, a sweet smile widened in your lips, curving them as Bucky stared at you again when he was conscious that you didn’t care. With or without a metal arm, your feelings were exactly the same. You couldn’t admire him more than you were admiring him at this point. You couldn’t love him more than you loved him already. And God was a witness of how many times you practiced to confess to him and tell him that the only thing you wanted in life was to be by his side. Bring happiness to his days, bring him peace and harmony.

“I'm sorry…” “I brought you…”

You two spoke at the same time, breaking in a soft giggle that jumped your hearts in complete sync.

“You first”. He let you, waving his hand.

“I… brought you something”. You susurrated, loosening the grip around the metal hanging on your chest to take off the necklace.

You noticed the way his eyes widened in surprise and confusion. Why did you have them? Who gave them to you? Why now? Bucky gulped watching you stretching the dog tags between your fingers towards him. He didn’t know what to do, taking a second before he was able to react. He couldn’t remember when was the last time he saw them, and the amount of memories they gave him overwhelmed his whole brain.

In slow motion narrowing his eyes, Bucky held the chain with two fingers to hang the necklace from it. You thought he was about to wear them, but he destabilized you as he directed his hands to above your head, to place them where they were an instant before. You didn’t understand. Didn’t he want them back?

“I want you to keep it”.

“But…”

“I want you to have something mine”. Bucky recognized with a shy smile decorating his lips. “Those tags and my arm are the only things I have from my past. And… I won’t give you my arm…”

“Well, I bet it’d look good hanging from my neck”. You jocked tilting your head.

In his gift, you found the encouragement you needed to talk about T’Challa’s job offer. It wasn’t as if you were proposing to him, in the end, you were just friends even if it felt quite the opposite. You licked your upper lip, kissing your teeth after it, earning more than his attention.

“Shuri said, uh… I could come here, work with her. We’d do great things together, not only for Wakanda but for the world”.

Bucky’s gesture didn’t change a single inch, focused on the nervousness you were trying to hide from him and reading the reasons beneath.

“So T’Challa offered me to stay here”.

“Permanently?”

“Yeah… Permanently”. You assented pressing your lips, breathing through your nostrils.

“Did you accept?”

“Not yet. Not until talking to you about”.

He nodded then a couple of times, turning to the goats behind him coming closer. “Got to finish some stuff… Maybe we can talk later about it unless you have to leave”.

“No, no. I, uh… asked for the day off. Banner didn’t need me at the lab today”.

“Okay, good”.

While the king was showing you the new level for research and investigations, Bucky took the advantage to go and find Shuri without your knowledge. He found her in the surroundings of the main building, working on your ship as you said it made some kind of random noise that put you out of your nerve during the flight.

“I need my arm”.

The princess squatted close to the left wing, turned at him without standing up. Pulling her sunglasses to the top of his head, she raised an eyebrow.

“For what”.

“You know for what”. He clicked his tongue, placing his hand on his left shoulder.

“No, I don’t”. She lied while cleaning the grass and oil in her expert fingers.

“I need to have two arms”.

“You’ve been working the last months with one arm only. Why do you need it now?”

“C’mon… Argh…” Bucky rubbed his face with boredom. “I want to hug her, okay? Can you just… give me back my damn arm?”

“Not enough reasons, you can hug her using your right”.

“I want to have two hands when I kiss her”. He finally confessed in a hiss, provoking a triumphant smile growing on Shuri’s lips.

“If you lie to me, if you don’t kiss her, Sergeant Barnes… I’ll code it to punch your face”.

“Wait…” Bucky wrinkled his nose drawing a horrified gesture on his face, as he turned his blue eyes towards his left shoulder. “Can you… do that?”

“Try me”.

No, of course she couldn’t, but he didn’t know. Which were a good push for him to not go against her and her petition.

“C’mon. I’ll set it up and help you to put it on”.

Your eyes were traveling from one picture to another. He put some of them around his small house and it looked better now. More like a home. A place to stay. And for a second you felt a twinge straight in your heart when you noticed one photograph of the two of you, close to his bed. It was after your first mission together. Steve insisted on taking it, after noticing the sparkles between you. But you didn’t know he brought it to Wakanda with him, as your copy is on your nightstand too. And you used to fall asleep every night looking at it.

The curtain being moved and some steps in pulled you out from your thoughts, turning to find Bucky staring in silence at you. Your orbs landed on the metal arm. It was different too since the last time you saw it, with golden strips forming between the silver ones. You couldn’t help but sigh.

“You didn’t need to…”

“Yes, I did. I did need it”. He interrupted you, breathing through his parted lips and his heart about to fly off from his chest.

“Why?”

“Because, otherwise, I couldn’t do this”.

You were about to ask what he was referring to, watching him breaking the distance between the two of you in three fast strides. You closed your eyes at the moment his hands held your neck and Bucky slammed his lips on yours. The kiss, the contrast of cold and warmth on your skin, the everlasting longing for it to happen… All of this caused you to gasp, tangling the tunic at the height of his chest in your fists, not wanting him to take a step back. Your mouths fit perfectly without looking for it, made for each other, as he secured his fingers on the back of your neck. And you felt your knees weak when he pecked your lips one more time, before caressing your nose with his, not being able to open your eyes. Neither of you.

“I don’t have the right… to ask for anything”. He babbled. His insecurities coming afloat even if you hadn’t pushed him away. “But… I want you to stay here. With me. I… I don’t have much to offer you, but I promise to make you happy”.

At this point, your eyes were filled with tears, strongly closing your eyelids to not let them fall. You swallowed a sob, moving your hands from his chest to his middle back, embracing him tighter as you could.

“You’ve been making me happy since we met, Bucky”.

He chuckled breathless, intuiting he was too at the edge of his crying because of that affirmation.

“Every Tuesday, I wait at the stairs of my apartment for the mail, for your letters. I’ve… read them so many times I can recite them… by heart. Every word you've written to me”.

“I will continue writing them for you, even if you stay with me”.

Your voices were low, barely audible out of his place. Like secrets. Bucky kissed you again, bending enough to raise you by the back of your thighs and urge you to surround his waist with your legs. The dog tags on your chest clicked against the other, as you moved your arms to his shoulders and neck, and you were unable to stop kissing him. You two could die right now and not be bothered because you were finally together, and that was all you deserved in life.

“Tell me you will stay… please”. His beg brushed your lips, still pecking them between syllable and syllable.

“I will…” You replied without hesitating as you could, eager to correspond to every gesture from him. “I will stay with you”.

feedback is appreciated, please, leave a comment to let me know if you liked it and/or reblog it.

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[musingsofmyown]

Mystrade

Only one bed

Crack

Teen

Mamma Mia - ABBA

Babe-babes

You have just given me the MOST POWERFUL COMBINATION ON EARTH

I present to you:

Here We Go Again

  It was simple enough to begin with: Mycroft had asked Detective Inspector Lestrade to pose as his security detail during a more than sketchy agreement between him and a group who had ‘similar interests’. After the agreement ended, they would return back to London and all would be right with the world again. Though the crafty hands of fate had other ideas with the latter part of the plan.

  “Uh, sir,” Even after all the years of working with Mycroft, Greg still felt a bit awkward calling the government official ‘sir’,”We have a tail, they’ve been following us for a good ten minutes now. What do you suggest?”

  He looked up at the rear-view mirror,”Pull in at the nearest hotel, I’ll call an actual security detail for us and we’ll leave in the morning. Apologies for the inconvenience Detective Inspector.”

  “No worries,” the silver-haired man smiled, sending a chivalrous look back at Mycroft,”I haven’t had a sleepover since I was a kid.”

  Mycroft’s heart skipped a beat, after drawing his eyes away from the chocolate-brown gaze in the mirror, his attention drew to his phone: ‘Code Red. -MH’

  ‘Sir, you’re in a car with Detective Inspector Lestrade, there can be no code red. Unless you’re talking about code red as in “help me I’m being flirted with” because I can help with that.’

  ‘Don’t be so condescending about it. -MH’

  ‘I’ll take care of it sir. Where are you going?’

  ‘Nearest hotel -MH’

  ‘Alright, you just sit back and I will work my magic.’

  ‘Also, sir, with all due respect: You could do with a good shagging.’

  ‘Anthea!’

  ‘Just saying, boss. Anyway, have fun ;) ‘

  With a heavy sigh, he tucked his phone away in his pocket, looking back at Lestrade through the mirror. He was focused on the road, a small frown of concentration on his features,”I can feel you staring, My.”

  The nickname made a subconscious blush appear on his cheeks,”A-apologies-”

  “No no, it’s fine. I just think it’s unfair that you get to stare and I don’t,” He added a wink at the end,”Besides, we’ve been working together for what- fifteen years? Now, Sherlock may think me inept at everything, but you know I’m a fairly good copper. I know attraction when I see it. But say the word and I’ll drop it.”

  “I would… I would like it if you continued.”

  “Does that mean I get to have the british government as my boyfriend?” He cocked an eyebrow, a quick glance back.

  “That means you have me.”

  “Perfect,” He looked back to the road,”oh look, it’s a posh hotel, just what you like.”

  “Gregory-”

  The older man huffed a laugh as he pulled into the parking lot. After parking, he went around to Mycroft’s door and opened it for him, a sweeping gesture followed,”At your service, sir.”

  They shared a small giggle before going inside. The receptionist smiled,”Mr. Holmes?”

  “Yes-” He looked skeptical before remembering Anthea’s less than professional texts,”Double-room please.”

  “Your assistant called a few minutes ago and reserved the top-floor suite, but we can rebook if-”

  “No, that’s quite alright, how many beds?”

  “One, sir.”

  It was Greg’s turn to flush. Mycroft’s eyes flickered with a fire,”Perfect, we’ll have the key.”

  Once in the elevator, the official recalled a drunken ‘accident’ that had happened a few years prior:

_______________

  “C’mon Mycroft, let loose a bit, you and I are here to celebrate and to drink. Lots of drinks.”

  “I’m not one to get ‘wasted’ Detective Inspector-”

  “Then at least have a couple whiskeys or bourbons or whatever posh drink you like!”

  “Fine.”

  Neither of them remembered exactly what happened, but it ended with both of them in a hotel room, naked, debauched, and absolutely flustered when they woke up.

__________________

  “Here we go again.”   “Indeed.”

  Maybe this time they’d remember.

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

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Let me know if you want to be taken off or put on!!!!

[northern-passage]

I don't want to rehash old news, but I need to say this and others need to hear it. I am so tired of people demanding IFs to be more of the same! This and that choices, this and that characters. It is INTERACTIVE FICTION. nowhere does it say that every game is a self-insert (which is an issue on its own). if you're playing a predetermined person who you can guide... It is STILL interactive fiction!! Driving me crazy. and to end it nicely; One of the best IFs ever! Love love love

yeahhh no i totally agree. no shade towards cog here but they have a very basic formula pretty much every one of their very popular games follow and bc cog sort of has this...iron grip on the IF genre due to being so mainstream, like on the app store and on steam, people think this is like.... the end all be all of interactive fiction and people compare Everything to the same three games over and over again.

and it’s not the end all be all at ALL there is SO much more interactive fiction out there. i actually got into IF on itch.io, and in the beginning i only read visual novels because i’m a child and love looking at pretty pictures. i do think the fact that i found IF this way and not through cog has been what’s influenced my style and the way i approach IF. i didn’t start reading cog until last summer, and honestly i prefer most of the wips i’ve read over actual published content. that’s what pushed me to write my own. and it sucks that cog won’t share choicescript bc it’s SUCH a good starting coding language, it’s so accessible and easy to learn. 

and i’ve said before i’m just not interested in writing a flat, blank slate character. that’s SO boring for me as a writer and i also don’t like it as a reader.

i think seeing how your decisions change a character is so much more interesting than just having a generic, over-powered, essentially faceless character. now, i DO know why people enjoy that - we all love a good self-insert from time to time - but i really wish readers would break out of this mold cog has made.

itch.io can be a little overwhelming at first, but honestly it has a really nice tag and filter system (which is critical bc itch.io DOES have a lot of nsfw, though i’ve never had any issue w the safe filter on) to find stuff you like. also, if there’s an author you follow who has work on itch.io chances are they have favorites themselves listed on their profile, or will give out recs if you ask. in fact, i’ll list some of my recs right now:

we know the devil - one of the first VNs i bought and read. if you enjoy this one, def check out pillowfight’s other work

lookouts - one of my favorite short pieces.

lake of voices - a lot of people are familiar with Our Life, by GBpatch, but i absolutely love lake of voices. voiced characters, a little bit of angsty romance, death, and horror...mwah

love is strange - a CLASSIC. i played this before i even played life is strange. so imo you don’t even need to be that familiar with the original game it’s based on.

ebon light - i watched this game come to life while i followed the author’s process and saw how much love and time was put into it and i just can’t not recommend it. a dark fantasy game w romance and politics

a mortician’s tale - very different. a game about death. i’m a big fan of the order of the good death, and i actually got this game for free at some point, but it made me feel. emotions.

contrition - this one is so good. put on head phones, turn out the lights. great use of sound and music and just really good atmosphere.

cowgirl boots - love love love this one. more of a narrative than IF but it’s short and you should read it anyways. makes me feel warm and fuzzy.

is it that deep, bro? - another one that stuck with me for a while.

what girls do in the dark - this one takes me back to the old school text adventure games, but with a twist. found this one through john wolfe’s HQ residential house game jam and really enjoyed it.

the shadows that run alongside our car - another short conversational story. stuck with me for a while after i played it.

a tale of crowns - a chapter by chapter tale where you are the long awaited crown. really enjoy this one, very refreshing to read fantasy written like this. love the setting and the characters

crosshollow - multiple games, sort of like an anthology, all sharing the same setting. surreal and emotional

heartforge - some of you may already be familiar with heartforge, having started in choicescript then moved to twine. multiple games, all very different, all very good

the eight years revolution - full transparency, i’m friends with this author and we talk frequently. set over a span of eight years, you are starting out as a sheltered and naive royal, a young monarch running from a rebellion...

wayfarer - a fantasy game where you play as a wayfarer, with lots of customization options and a very interesting story

love & friendship - another author i am friends with and talk with often. love the humor in this game and the take on the regency genre.

scout - one of my all time favorites. set in an apocalyptic future, you are a scout from a small community, frequently running missions for supplies and information..

there’s this girl - whew. a short one, but emotional. this creator has quite a few works on itch.io, though some of them tend to lean towards the heavy, emotional side. recommend though if that’s something you’re looking for.

emily is away - again, one of the first IF games i played. it’s been years but it’s one that stuck with me. i think it’s worth mentioning simply to show what IF games can be like

birdland - genuinely think this is the first IF game i ever played. i have a soft spot for it because of that, as well as the story itself, which meant a lot to me when i first read it.

whew! i am certain i am forgetting some games and will curse myself later, but this is getting to be a bit long. i really encourage yall to just click around on itch.io in the interactive fiction/visual novel tag and see if you can find something you like. there is SO much out there...

[yslkook]

TiO (8)

mind of mine masterlist

summary: jungkook is a man of mystery and you take him on a date.

pairing: “badboy” jk x “shy/reserved” oc

warnings: cursing, alc, excessive use of pet names, a shitty relationship, unprotected sex (pls use protection, these two are being foolish) , some choking, grinding, making out, oral

word count: ~6.3k

a/n: if you want to be tagged, send an ask plz. would love to hear your thoughts. a big thank you to @cutechim for creating the texts for me lmao<33

***

Jungkook remains tight-lipped about what it was he had done over the weekend, when he had gone with Jin and Mina to a tattoo convention a few hours away. They had ended up staying the night there, and while Jungkook wanted to ask you to come with him, he wondered if it was too soon to ask. After all, you were both still enjoying each other’s company at your own sweet pace.

Eventually his little secret gets put on the back burner for the rest of the week. You were supposed to get bubble tea with him on Tuesday, but unfortunately a last minute work issue with your client and your application came up. You’d ended up working late, your eyes screaming in fatigue and went straight to bed that evening. He had understood, of course he did.

On Thursday, he was supposed to grab lunch with you at a cafe that he thought you might like, but this time it was him who had a conflict. His older sister had showed up to the tattoo parlor without any prior notice. She does this every so often, when things aren’t going well with her on again, off again shitty “boyfriend”.

Jungkook had sighed, cancelling on lunch with you to spend time with Jooyeon and comfort her with fried chicken and ice cream. You had sent an understanding thumbs up and a promise to call him later and end up having lunch with your work wife, Kira instead.

Kira who doesn’t fail to point out the glow in your cheeks and your general aura, even though it’s been nearly a week and a half since you saw Jungkook last. You roll your eyes and ignore the flames in your cheeks (and her laughter), and change the subject to your work projects. She tells you about some of the coding issues and compliance issues she’s been having with her software, and you tell her about the hours you’ve been pouring into your application for your client.

It doesn’t bother you that Jungkook hadn’t asked if you wanted to meet his sister. After all, he’d told you bits and pieces about her and her relationship. And in the last few weeks, your relationship has blossomed so beautifully. There was no reason to rush, you think. You’ll meet her hopefully under better circumstances for her.

Jungkook spends most of the evening with Jooyeon, letting her cry herself to sleep in his bed. His sister hardly ever cries like this, with sobs full of pain and hurt because of another man. But it’s been happening too much lately, too many fights and too much of Joo losing herself. It makes Jungkook see red more often than not. He knows what you’d say- that she needs him more than anything else and to not be so impulsive.

He makes sure Joo eats a warm meal before she falls asleep and he shoots you a text:

Jungkook: baby

You: hi

You: everything ok?

Jungkook: no, joo’s bf is a fkin asshole

Jungkook: she’s sleeping

Jungkook: miss u

You: im sorry baby :( can i call you?

He jumps at the chance, the sound of your voice and sight of your pretty face on video call instantly calming him. Jungkook is sure to wear a beanie to hide his surprise for you (but you don’t question it. After all, you’ve seen him in beanies plenty of times before and it’s dim in the apartment.) He moves to the couch, asking softly for you to tell him about your day. You recount every single detail from memory, shifting under your covers to tell him about how you had nearly stumbled down the stairs in front of your manager’s manager because you had missed a step.

It pulls a soft laugh from him.

“Jungkook,” You say quietly, “Do you want to talk about it?”

“I don’t even know what to say,” Jungkook sighs, “She’s just… Byung-woo and her have had this on and off thing for years now. He won’t commit to her and she just refuses to see him for what he is. Like, when it’s good, it’s really good. But when it’s bad, it’s awful. I wish she’d fucking see it for herself. I don’t know what to do anymore, baby.”

“Oh, baby,” You murmur, wishing you could hug him, “All you can do is be there for her but be honest with her. She’ll come around soon, hopefully. It’s hard to see past a shitty person sometimes, when all you want is for them to love you.”

“I hope so, too,” Jungkook says, “She’d love you, you know?”

“Who wouldn’t?”

“Don’t get a big head,” Jungkook chuckles, “Maybe you can meet her someday. Under better circumstances, I mean.”

“Really? You want me to meet your older sister?” You ask softly, feeling a little flustered, “That’s serious.”

“I told you, baby,” Jungkook soothes, “I’m serious about you.”

“Yeah. Seriously crazy about me,” You giggle to yourself. You know if Jungkook was with you, he’d flick your forehead.

“It’s true,” He murmurs, “Maybe I can see you this weekend?”

“Yeah, you still have to show me what you did over the weekend! Take care of Jooyeon first,” You reply, “Let me know if you need anything. I’ll drop stuff off, just tell me.”

“I will,” Jungkook promises, “Sleep well, I miss you.”

“Sleep well. I miss you.”

***

Jooyeon ends up leaving on Saturday morning after a lecture from Jungkook and with determined resolve in her eyes. You jump at the chance to take him out tonight, knowing how stressed he’s been the last few days.

You: be ready at 6:30 tn, im taking u out. and dress slutty

Jungkook doesn’t know how to interpret your text when he reads it. He considers asking Mina and Mei what this means, but ultimately leaves it alone. Replying to your message with a quick thumbs up, he busies himself with getting ready to see you (and surprising you, finally after a full week of wanting to show you what he had done.)

Once you parallel park your car (which takes far too long than you’d like to admit), you grab the small bouquet of purple roses that you had gotten for Jungkook and text him saying that you’ll be up in a few minutes.

Taehyung had caught you struggling to parallel park, and had told Jungkook with a snicker. Which earned him a punch to the arm.

There wasn’t a particular reason that you had chosen to get purple roses for him, other than the fact that they reminded you of him. You hope he likes them.

Jungkook hears a soft knock at the door, and can already envision you behind it. He hopes you like his surprise, the one he’s been teasing you for a week about. You had given no hints of what you would be wearing- you had only sent him one selfie that didn’t give much of a hint into your outfit. He has no doubt that you’ll look gorgeous, but still.

Maybe Jungkook’s nerves shouldn’t be this intense, but he can’t help it. He swings the front door open, only to be greeted by you swaying on your feet with your hands held behind your back. His heart throbs when you pull your hands apart and present him with a beautiful bouquet of purple roses.

How ironic.

“Hello,” You say with a small smile, suddenly feeling a little shy and gasping when your eyes land on his hair, “Wow. You weren’t kidding…”

His hair is tied back into a ponytail, but it’s unmistakably elegant and so violet. Two neat pieces of his newly dyed hair fall into his face effortlessly, but then your gaze reaches the piercing on his left eyebrow. Your lips remain parted in surprise and without thinking, you reach up to touch his hair. It’s still soft, as it always is.

“Come in, baby,” Jungkook says, taking the roses from you, “You must really like me, huh? Got me flowers and everything?”

“Shut up,” You mutter, cheeks heating up, “Don’t get a big head.”

Jungkook only grins wolfishly at you and winks at you, eyes unashamedly glued to your ass. You roll your eyes, and swat his shoulder as you watch him put the rose in a vase and place it in the center of the dining table.

This isn’t the first time you’ve been in his shared apartment (that he lives with Taehyung and Jimin in) but you somehow feel shy in his presence again, as if it was the first time. The first time you had been here with him had been the first time you had spent the night at his apartment several weeks ago, after a night out with your friends.

You let your gaze wander, curious eyes settling on the subtle matching of the furniture and the cleanliness of the apartment. There’s not a stray speck of dust in sight, but maybe you’re distracting yourself from addressing the pretty purple of his hair. Your mouth is dry, and you’re probably drooling a little. You wonder if Jungkook prepared for this, the same way you did (in that you had washed your car, cleaned every inch of it and gotten a new car freshener).

A faint scent of fresh laundry and lavender sits in the spaces of his home. It calms you and gives you the boost to turn your eyes to him.

“Thanks for the roses, baby,” Jungkook says, giving you a smile and starry eyes. He pulls you into his arms, your back against the counter. “Surprise. Do you like it?”

“Uh,” You mumble, brain deciding to short-circuit with the way he looks at you. His smile turns into a smirk, deciding to further render you speechless by pressing himself closer to you and cradling your neck. He’s careful not to touch your face. He doesn’t want to mess your makeup up terribly, at least not yet.

“I know you like my hair. Your face says it all, baby,” Jungkook continues and ducks his head for a quick kiss, “You’re pretty.” He does quite like this dress, light blue and dotted in small flowers with thin straps. His eyes are instantly drawn to the drawstring at the center of your chest and he quells the urge to pull at it.

Jungkook’s mouth waters when he sees the side split of the dress but you want more from him immediately, but he pulls away to your chagrin. Even with the simple kiss, the burgundy color of your lipstick stains his plump bottom lip.

You shiver. It appears that he tried to take your words via text to heart- to dress slutty. He’s wearing a loose animal print button up, with the top three buttons undone. It gives you a delectable view of his pecs, his collarbones and a hint of the tattoo on his right side. As if you weren’t already weak in the knees for him as it was, he wears a black coat and tight, leather pants.

Jungkook pulls it off, like he pulls everything off and the purple hair blends seamlessly with his look. Tonight, he’d opted for two silver hoops in each ear and a thin silver necklace to match.

Your knees are weak, they’ve been weak since you had seen him in this offensive outfit and his hair, his new piercing that was clearly an attack on your entire existence.

The purple hair. The piercing. He’ll be the death of you tonight, you know it. Your legs are wobbly, panties already probably a little wet just from seeing him and from a few of his kisses. But you can’t help it. Without thinking, you press your lips to his, drawing your tongue into his mouth eagerly. You are so hungry, so eager to devour him and drink up anything that he offers you. Jungkook tugs you closer to him lightly by your waist but-

“Seriously? Right in front of my dinner?” Comes an amused voice from behind Jungkook and you nearly screech at the familiar sound of Jimin’s voice.

“I- I didn’t-You-” You stammer, feeling your face heat up to a degree that it’s definitely never heated up to before. You hide behind Jungkook to fix your surely wrecked lipstick. You’re certain his own lips are probably comically smudged with your lipstick as well. “Sorry Jimin, I didn’t mean to. I didn’t know, we’ll leave-”

Jungkook only rolls his eyes at Jimin’s wide smirk and knowing eyes. He hears you scolding Jungkook for not telling him that anyone was home, to which he promptly responds “well, you didn’t ask!”

Despite the very natural and easy flow of conversation between you and Jungkook in your car, you still feel overheated and jumpy, your fingers incessantly tapping on the steering wheel. It’s not Jungkook, it’s you and your own nerves. It’s not the first time you’ve gone out to dinner with him and it’s certainly not the first time you’ve had him in your car. If Jungkook notices, he says nothing.

“Where are we going, baby?” Jungkook asks, looking at you. You don’t meet his eyes, choosing instead to focus on the road despite being at a red light.

“Umm, that place you mentioned the other day. The one we talked about trying together,” You say softly. Jungkook can only wonder why you’re a little quiet, but he thinks he knows. You slip into your head so easily and he doesn’t mind gently tugging you out of your thought cloud and into reality with him.

“Can you help me park,” You mumble sheepishly, “I get nervous parking in such tight spaces.”

“Yeah, pull over here before it’s impossible to,” Jungkook murmurs. You nod and do so, hopping out of the driver’s seat to switch places with him. But before you can get in the passenger’s seat, Jungkook grips your wrist loosely. You look at him curiously, with wide eyes and he drops a kiss to your lips, swallowing your surprise.

“You’re so pretty,” Jungkook murmurs, “So fucking pretty, baby. I love this dress on you.” You preen at his praise, leaning forward for another kiss with a shy smile. He subtly squeezes your left tit before letting his hand travel downward.

“You look really good, Jungkook,” You murmur before he kisses you, “I-I really, really like it. A lot.”

He gently caresses your thigh from under your dress, the heat of his hand shooting straight up your core. Jungkook slips his tongue into your mouth quickly, coaxing your endearing nervousness away. As if you both aren’t pulled over to the side of the street where cars are passing you by (and surely wondering why you both were making out like this in public).

“Are we gonna be those people who have a roadside quickie,” You laugh, gently pushing his shoulder when you pull away.

“Roadside quickie? Get your mind out of the gutter,” Jungkook says but his lips twist into a wicked smirk, “But hey, if you wanna give me road head, I’m not going to complain about it-”

“Ha, you would be so lucky,” You scoff, feeling your nerves beginning to ease out of you, “C’mon, our reservation is soon. And then we can talk about road head.”

Dinner goes perfectly and after a glass of wine you feel those inexplicable nerves wash away. What did you have to be nervous for anyway? It was Jungkook- Jungkook who you’ve known for years. Your friend before any of this. He asks you about work, how your application is going-

“Your client sounds pretty demanding,” Jungkook muses, “You keeping up with it okay?”

“Yeah, but I’m not even an application engineer so I’m just learning as I go. My true roots are data and data science but I get to see all of it. Which is cool. But also time consuming, like the other evening, I had to read up on the compliance regulations. But my favorite thing is creating modeling and programs for this app, it’s really cool because it’s healthcare specific. So I’m learning about that sector as well, it’s mostly python but we’ve been doing testing with different healthcare providers in the area and they’re all responding really well to it-” You’re rambling, you know it, but your passion for your career knows no bounds and Jungkook makes no move to stop you. He only smiles at you, eyes crinkling and nose scrunching, gesturing for you to continue.

It’s funny. Not even a few months ago, you would have cut yourself off from your own rambling. In an attempt to convince yourself that the other person didn’t need to hear about it. Maybe that was Sora’s subconscious influence on you. Today, you don’t think twice about it, glowing and shimmering under the dim, blue lights of the restaurant as you tell Jungkook more about your job.

He makes your heart race and he’s sitting right in front of you. Your chin is in your hands as you listen to the pretty words slipping out of his lips. He’s so dreamy, and you struggle to not let your gaze stray from his eyes and linger on his exposed tattoos and chest. You don’t even know where to look, deciding to settle on the way his newly purple locks fall to his forehead just perfectly.

“What do you wanna eat for dessert?” You murmur, looking at the menu and cautiously allowing your foot to brush against his.

In hindsight, you should’ve seen it coming-

“You,” Jungkook says easily, as if he’s talking about the weather.

“Corny,” You roll your eyes, but nudge his foot again. You end up deciding on sharing a slice of decadent, chocolate mousse cake. Which Jungkook ends up finishing off when you satisfy your sweet tooth after a few big bites.

He leans over without a second thought, thumbing away stray cream from the corner of your mouth. Your tongue darts out to lick the tip of his thumb and he looks at you with wide eyes before grinning roguishly.

“Wanna get outta here, baby?”

“Should I take you home, Jungkook?” You ask, finding the courage somewhere in the remnants of the glass of wine currently evaporating from your system to take his hand in your lap once you’re both settled in your car.

“Do you want to take me home?” Jungkook asks with a quirked eyebrow.

“I have some wine I think you’d like at my place. I just got it,” You say a little breathlessly, “And I have to inspect something, I might need your help.” Jungkook laughs, a little derisively and you pout.

“You don’t have to bribe me with wine, baby. You know I would’ve been down regardless,” Jungkook says, squeezing your hand, “What do you need to inspect? Do you have a leak or something?”

“Yeah, I’ve got a leak alright,” You say under your breath, thinking about the growing wetness in your panties, “My man just showed up here with purple hair and an eyebrow piercing, looking like a damn model after one whole week. I have to inspect him.”

“Oh, is that so? In that case, I would love to be your lab rat. Besides, it’s not like I haven’t seen the inside of your bedroom before-”

“Who said you’d get that far?”

“I already did, baby. Did you forget?” Jungkook’s smirk widens, eyes sparkling with mischief. He gently cups your face, thumb on your chin and hovers just over your lips. You think he’s about to kiss you, so you close your eyes in anticipation of his lips on yours.

But it never comes. Instead, his breath fans over your cheeks and he lets out a low laugh. “I sure didn’t forget, and I know you didn’t either.”

You roll your eyes and swat his hand away, ignoring (but letting out a smile) when he chuckles. You decide to hold his hand for as much of the drive back home you can.

Jungkook’s hands are on your hips even as you’re fumbling with the keys to your front door. He’s a distraction, his warm heat plastered against your back and the simple act of opening your damn door feels like too much of a chore. When Jungkook’s lips glaze over the back of your neck, his fingers roaming your waist, it’s difficult for you to focus.

So Jungkook scoffs and turns the key for you. “Can’t open the door, baby?” Jungkook taunts and you level him with a glare.

“It’s not my fault you can’t keep your hands to yourself in front of my door!”

“You like it,” Jungkook says, shutting the door behind him and hugging you as you try to walk away from him to wash up. You escape his grip with a giggle and lock yourself in your bathroom, while Jungkook waits with a disgruntled pout.

When you come out, you head into the kitchen to pour out two glasses of wine and bring some snacks out. You’re not particularly hungry, though you wouldn’t mind eating and you’re sure Jungkook wouldn’t mind either.

Your train of thought is of course interrupted by the man himself and he wraps his arms around you from behind, pushing you into the counter. One might say that Jungkook is being clingy, but you know this is how he shows his affections. Through physical touch more than anything else. And you quite like it, you like the reassurance of his body close to yours. It’s what you’ve always wanted and never known that you needed.

“Missed you,” He breathes into your hair. Even if he’s been with you for the last few hours… You understand him. It feels like you’re both making up for lost time. For time that you could’ve spent together, rather than apart.

“Me too,” You murmur, “Can you take this to the couch, honey? I’ll bring the glasses and the wine.”

Jungkook hums and kisses your temple, squeezing your ass before heeding your soft demand. You sit next to him, thighs touching, and pour out a glass for both of you to enjoy. You lean against his shoulder, wrapping an arm around his bicep and turn the television on. But neither of you are really paying attention.

“Hey,” Jungkook murmurs, “I had a good time tonight, baby.”

“Don’t I know it,” You say smugly, “It’s not everyday a pretty girl takes you out for din-” He cuts your words off by pulling you into his lap, somehow not spilling even a single drop of wine in the movement. You would’ve killed him if even a hint of a wine stain appeared on your velvet couch.

You press your hand into his shoulder, the hint of his tattoo and the glint of his piercing catching your eye. You swirl your glass of wine with your other hand. “What a precarious position to be in,” You say dryly, even grinding your hips into his playfully. He gives you a look, and stills your movements with one hand on your waist. Jungkook sets his glass on the coffee table behind you and cradles your neck, pulling you down for a sharp kiss. It’s almost desperate and needy, nothing like his kisses from before.

You slip your tongue into his honeyed mouth, tasting seeds of his desperation with your tongue. But then, you remember your wine glass and pull away from his lips with a lewd smack to reach behind you and place it on the coffee table as well.

“So pretty,” Jungkook moans, pushing the straps of your dress to the side and dotting your shoulders in wine-stained kisses, “Pretty girl, my pretty baby-”

You tilt his cheek towards you for a kiss, whining into his mouth at his praise. It shoots down your spine in a delicious hum and his hands roaming the expanse of your back makes you feel warm and powerful.

The way your hips move in time with his, the way you fit into the crevices of his thighs and his chest- he just wants to give you everything. He wants to treat you the way you deserve to be treated. Jungkook will give you everything, if you let him.

“And what about you?” You rasp with swollen lips and wild eyes when you finally pull away. You press your fingers into the exposed, inky part of his chest, where his shirt is unbuttoned for your eyes. “You look so fucking good all the time, but-but I told you to dress slutty and you did this for me, huh? You did this for me, bunny?”

Jungkook’s cock jumps in his tight pants and his throat goes dry. Your eyes are devious, filled with mischief and sin and he gives himself to you fully and wholly.

“Yeah,” Jungkook nods eagerly, “Yeah, I wanted to look nice for you, baby.”

“A-and your hair,” You mumble, feeling a little lovesick, “I love it, I love it, I love it-I just wanna- wanna make you feel good. Can I do that, bunny? Make you feel good?”

Jungkook nods with wide, doe eyes, wondering how the tables were turned so quickly.

“Take me to my bedroom,” You demand softly. The glasses of wine and snacks on the tray are left forgotten as Jungkook easily scoops you up in his arms. Even with your lips soft and slow against his neck, he somehow makes it to your bed.

It’s definitely not the first time you’ve had Jungkook in your bed (or that you’ve been in his bed). It’s not the first time you’ve peeled his shirt off meticulously and licked your way down his chest, to unbutton his tight pants. It’s not the first time he’s seen you on your knees on your bed (to alleviate the strain on your knees if you were on the floor).

By now, the shock of your impatience has worn off. Jungkook frequently reminds you to slow down, that you both have nowhere to be except with each other.

It looks like his pants are glued to his legs, and while you can appreciate the visual, you want to appreciate the real thing. You groan in frustration and Jungkook does the work for you, pushing the offending fabric away and breathing a sigh of relief. You crawl closer to him, nails featherlight against his taut thighs.

He’s golden, his body taut and spilling with swirls of color in the divots of his muscles. Your mouth waters.

But Jungkook moves your hands away when you start inching closer, wanting to palm his cock. He joins you on the bed, pushing your back to the bed and hiking the skirt of your dress up to your hips. His hands are tight and warm and welcome on your hips, a flare of desire shooting down your spine and straight to your pussy. You buck your hips up towards him with a pout but he only squeezes.

“What did I tell you,” Jungkook murmurs, swatting your thigh lightly.

“You’ll have to remind me,” You breathe.

“Told you to slow down, baby,” Jungkook says, letting his fingers trail up your thighs and slip under your panties. His hand is warm in contrast to the rings on his fingers. They do little to cool your skin, though. “Impatient girl.”

“You say that like a bad thing-”

“And you talk so fucking much,” Jungkook drawls, hovering over you and dropping his weight on top of you, nudging your cheek to kiss you. You reach upwards to thread your hands through his hair but he’s quick, so much quicker than you. Jungkook pins your wrists with just one hand, and the mere action, the mere display of strength has you sighing and your pussy fluttering.

“Lift your hips,” Jungkook says thickly, and you do so immediately. It’s easy for him to pull your black lace panties off to the side. But before he does so he gives you a small smile of approval, knowing that you wore them specifically for him to see.

“I really do love this dress, baby,” He says, “Makes your tits and your ass look amazing.”

“Take it off, then. And see the goods up close,” You say, wiggling against his grip.

“I will,” Jungkook says lazily, “Don’t you worry your pretty head about it.” Without a single warning, he lifts you up easily into his lap. Your bare pussy brushes against his bare cock deliciously, your hips moving of their own accord. He stills you again, and carefully unzips your dress and pulls it off of you. His fingers on you are soft but firm, leaving your head spinning and hazy.

You haven’t even had his cock yet, and you’re about ready to combust. Jungkook pushes you on the bed, your tits bouncing with the force of your back hitting the mattress and hovers over you. You pull at his hair a little impatiently and he groans, the sound reverberating across the walls only to ring in your head. You want to hear it again, and again and again.

“Jungkook,” You whine, “Please, bunny, do something. Look at me, look at my pussy, come clean me up-”

“So needy,” Jungkook murmurs and ignores you in favor of kissing your tits, rubbing your nipples with his fingers, “‘M needy for you too, baby.”

“You’re so hard, so big,” You babble, “Please, want your cock, baby.”

Impatient. Jungkook kisses your chest, your belly, your hips and makes you cum on his tongue twice (while you tear up and cry a little bit, gripping his purple locks fiercely and holding onto his shoulder) before letting you stroke his cock. You’re about to push him on his back to blow him with determined eyes, but he stops you.

It appears he’s impatient too, and he wants to see you cream his cock before cumming all over your tits (which has become his favorite place to).

“Jungkook,” You breathe sharply, “There, baby, right there-” You cut yourself off with a groan, stilling your hips and pushing his face into your chest. Jungkook’s groans are muffled against your tits, but you feel the wetness of his lips and the warmth of his tongue over your nipples.

“Shit,” You mumble, “Feels so good-”

“So pretty, baby,” Jungkook coos, pulling away from your tits to look up at you with lust in his eyes, “I’m yours, all yours-”

You groan, bouncing on his cock even harder as a flare of possessiveness flashes across your belly. “Move back,” You say softly, “Lay down. I’m gonna ride you so good, baby.”

Jungkook barely has a chance to catch his breath before your nails are on his chest, trying to hold yourself steady as you push yourself down onto his cock, pulling a deep moan of your name from his lips. His hands are tight on your hips, watching with wide eyes- he doesn’t know where to look, what to do.

He squeezes when one of your hands drifts over his and rests on top of his hand.

“I’m yours, I’m yours,” Jungkook mumbles, “Whatever you want baby, I’m yours-”

“You talk so much,” You say hoarsely, with a wicked smile, “It’s cute.” Your free hand floats upward, resting loosely at the base of his neck. His chain is cold against his heated skin but all he can focus on is the glide of your hand over his neck.

His cock twitches inside you and your smile widens. “Is this okay?” You whisper, “This okay, bunny?”

“Harder,” Jungkook groans, “Fuck, harder, baby.”

“Like this?” You ask innocently, closing your hand around the sensitive spots of his neck. His pretty eyes flutter as he nods, a quiet moan slipping out into the air.

“You’re pretty like this,” You say softly, “Shit, you’re pretty like this…”

He lets out a choked laugh at that. You lean forward, pressing your lips to his hastily. Jungkook thrusts upward, hips meeting your ass but your hand doesn’t leave his neck. Not just yet. You breathe into his mouth, allowing him to swallow your soft whimpers.

You wet your lips with a loud smack and cradle his cheek gently. Jungkook is mesmerized by the heat in your eyes, smoldering and burning through his skin. You let your fingers glide over your clit, gathering wetness and before Jungkook can ask what you're doing-

“Open,” You mumble hoarsely, “Open, bunny.”

Pushing a finger past his chapped lips, you gasp at the sight of him below you with your fingers in his mouth.

You could cum just from watching him. His tongue swirls over your finger before sucking lightly with a pretty flush covering his cheeks. Your eyes widen, another gasp brushing over his cheeks.

“Fuck,” You mumble dreamily, “You’re so good, bunny.”

Your body is burning, jaw slack and the feeling of Jungkook’s bare cock inside of you almost too much to handle. It was wildly irresponsible- he wasn’t wearing a condom and you weren’t on birth control, and it was a conversation for later. But you can’t think, not when it feels this good, not when you’ve had a taste of his cock in this way. Besides, he always pulls out just in time. But still, you both should know better.

“Oh, Jungkook,” You whine, “‘m close, I’m so fucking close, make me cum, bunny-”

“Baby,” Jungkook rasps, “My pretty baby looks so good on my cock like this. My smart, kind, b-beautiful girl, my angel-”

Tears prick your eyes- it’s easy for you to become overwhelmed like this. You tug your hands away and thread your fingers through his, dipping your head for a kiss.

“You like that, angel? You like being mine?” Jungkook murmurs, slowing your hips so he can take over. But he knows you’re close.

“Only yours,” You mumble. Jungkook pulls you into his chest swiftly and flips you so that you’re on your back. He places your legs over his shoulders and brackets your head with his forearms, his necklace just above your nose and his hair tickling your face. But you're mesmerized by the determination and adoration in his eyes.

“Jungkook,” You murmur brokenly, “O-oh, y-yeah, baby, there, mmmf-” You squeeze his biceps with a gasp, watching his face closely. Pushing his hair behind his ears, you cradle his cheek and pull him down for a sweet, long kiss.

His fingers dance across your thighs and rub your clit in slow circles and murmuring soft words of praise in your ear. You’re vaguely aware that your body erupts in a tidal wave of flames, warming you from inside out. You don’t hear anything except for your cries of his name, you don’t see anything but him through your blurry eyes.

“Baby,” Jungkook says through clenched teeth, “O-open your mouth, baby. Fuck, baby, this pussy- I’m gonna cum, baby, fuck-”

You open your mouth with hooded eyes and your tongue lolling out and Jungkook pulls out of you abruptly with a series of curses. He’s not fast enough to get all of his cum in your mouth, some of it landing on your cheek. You swallow his cum with a dopey smile and open your arms for him to bury his face in your tits.

“Fuck, baby,” Jungkook says breathlessly, rolling off of you and pulling you into his side, “This pussy’s gonna be the death of me. Where’d you learn to ride dick like that, huh?”

“I’ll never tell,” You mumble, “Gimme a kiss.”

And so he does, tasting himself on your lips. He kisses you nice and slow, just how you both like after a night like this. Eventually he cleans you up and you do the same for him.

Under the covers with only the shared warmth between your sheets to keep you company, you rest your head on Jungkook’s bicep and look up at him. Your fingers continue tracing patterns on his chest, tracing the swirls and curves of ink as they appear.

Jungkook dips his head to nudge your nose and you softly laugh as his hair falls into your face. “What are you thinking about, baby?” He murmurs, lazily draping an arm over you. By now, you’ve realized that Jungkook is possibly the most vulnerable with you in moments like this. When you’re both bare and basking in a post-sex haze.

That’s not to say that he’s not vulnerable at other times. But it’s just different like this.

You take his hand and thread your fingers through his. His fingers are bare, as you had taken his rings off and they’re currently sitting in your jewelry dish on your dresser.

“We just,” You murmur, “We spent so long being apart. When we should’ve been together. All because I…”

“Stop,” Jungkook says firmly but gently, “Don’t do that. You’re where you’re supposed to be. We’re where we’re supposed to be.”

“But we wasted so much time not being together because of me,” You mumble forlornly, feeling your throat getting a little dry, “Because I listened to Sora and didn’t-”

“Oh, baby,” Jungkook says, pulling you in for a hug and a forehead kiss, “That’s not true at all. We’re together now, and we both had some growing to do. That’s what matters.”

“Okay,” You reply in a strained voice. You don’t quite sound like you believe him, and Jungkook makes a mental note of that. “Do you feel like… we have lost time to make up for?”

“Do you feel like that?” Jungkook counters, making your heart skip a beat, “Because I don’t. I know it’s hard, baby, but you can’t beat yourself up for that. It’s in the past, baby. Forgive yourself. There’s nothing to race against, it’s just me and you.”

“I’ll try,” You say a little meekly. Jungkook nods and pulls you in for a soft kiss, one that has your toes curling and your belly flipping. He shifts so that you’re tucked into his side, surrounded by him and his hands on your skin. He kisses you until your previous thoughts don’t feel so loud in your head, he whispers to you and pulls sweet laughs from your throat until you can detach from the strange cloud that had suddenly appeared.

He’s your safe place.

*********

MoM TAGS: @tiemeuptogoldenchains @boymeetsparadise @jungkooksseuphoria @kaepjjangiya @drumsofheaven @ppeachyttae @tae-bebe @yiyi4657 @mygscafe @beeeetsandskzreads @maichiverse @hordanhearsawhooo @anonymous2505 @dreadity @mysugarkoo @ULTRAANONYMOUSEY @moonchild1 @fan-ati--c

TAGS: @kookdbean @codeinebelle

[beann-e]

“ honestly Suna sometimes it feels like your just sitting there — calculating — thinking of ways that you can piss me off” you let out in a huff of anger as you slammed your hand onto the arm rest placed in the middle of the car. Voice loud enough to be heard from a mile away and then some “ And then you don’t even fucking care “

“ I’m sorry you feel that way “

“ seriously ? seriously Suna “

“ oh I’m sorry would you like me to say it jokingly? “

The silence that towered over the both of you was tall and it wasn’t going anywhere anytime soon “ WELL WHAT THE FUCK DO YOU WANT ME TO SAY “ his hand came up to run down his face as he sighed

“ look I'm sorry baby but — “

“ but nothing — I'm tired Rin—I'm tired of you screwing with me“ you groaned “ honestly at this point just fuck off “

he moved to pull the keys from the car unbuckling his seatbelt and opening the car door as your jaw hung open “ what the fuck Suna — “

“ I'm fucking off you ungrateful bit—“

“ you asshole — all of a sudden you take everything literal right ?? huh only when you want to right “

“ y’know what— no you fuck off —ok y/n “

“ see that’s what I'm talking about “

“ honestly I doubt you even know what you were talking about in the first place “

your steps quickened as you followed after the male who stopped at your front door imputing the code and opening your house door “ This is what I mean by you keep fucking with me Suna “

“ oh “ he moved to sit down on the couch arms flung behind it and legs spread wide out in front of him. “ is it really— because , the 40 minute argument in the car about your best friend hitting on me didn’t quite make that clear “ he scoffed shaking his head along with it��“ your shitty reasoning must of gotten lost on one of the many streets of Japan y/n “

His eyes glowing body perking up with his next sentence “ yknow what how about you go find it hmm then we can have this little talk sometime later -- preferably when I'm sleeping id hate to be awake for another one of your hellish complaints babe.”

your anger was only growing as the argument continued “ you fucking douchebag I bet you don’t even know why I'm pissed off “

He let out a small sigh of a laugh his legs shaking and hitting each other in a wave before they resumed their earlier position “ I don’t“

“ and you don’t care either do you “

“ I don’t “

Your heart broke for the first time ever in your relationship with the stoic male after hearing his words and tone. In all the time you and your boyfriend had been together you two never argued about his lack of emotion or care.

It never bothered you

It never affected you

until it did

4 hours ago

You smiled up at the taller male as his mouth continued to run while talking to the rest of his volleyball team. This was the first time you’d ever seen him talk for more than 5 minutes with anything other then yeah’s and small mhmms.

The both of you had been invited to a class reunion and you only decided to go because of his new teams constant nagging

Suna had been telling you all week to find something else to do and that you didn’t have to go with him. That it would be too boring and long and that you would be better off having fun without him.

Of course you put up a fight but, ultimately lost and decided to hang out by yourself for the earlier half of the day spending last weeks paycheck on this weeks shopping spree

it felt nice to treat yourself but you couldn’t help but want to treat your boyfriend too. The thought of him being bored alone plagued your mind and you had to get it out.

The only way to do that was to go to the reunion.

Now how you imagined it would go is you show up in your fancy new dress surprising him smile a bit , talk up some of the host and sneak your way in and then mingle and go home and cuddle and kiss your boyfriend all night

funny thing is somewhere in that prewritten script you had created you didn’t realize imagination is not always reality.

The sight of your boyfriend leaning against a wall with a glass in his hand and his other on the string of your best friends dress had you reeling in the disgust that you wanted to spill so badly on the floor right now

All you’d done was go to the restroom but now you sat with your eyes widening while you watched his eyebrows come together in annoyance with the string that wouldn’t come undone.

Your best friend faced away from him back to his chest and a small smile on her face. Cheeks heated from his touch and in that moment you cursed her for having a look on her face that made it visible how much she enjoyed his warmth. You wished she didn’t make it so obvious how the closeness to your boyfriend was making her feel

how it was encouraging her

Your heart broke when you seen Suna finally relax and blow air out of his cheeks before nodding softly almost thanking the gods that he figured it out and it was over

Your feet moving before you could even process what to say to either of them.

“ y-y/—“

your hand came in contact with your best friends face before she could even finish the loud slap echoing through the room as everyone turned to find the source of the noise

Eyebrows raising when they noticed it was not only a slap but a full on one sided battle between you and the girl who everyone seen as nice and quiet during your school years

They never knew of the undercover bitch that was lurking behind the surface. They’d never see the way she was smirking as she took every hit given to her in stride. Your boyfriends hands wrapping around your torso as he looked down and seen that you were hovering over her ripping her to bits

You never letting go of the grip your thighs held around her own as she whispered to where only you could hear “ aw poor y/n’s defending someone that doesn’t even want em—gonna go to jail for someone so unloyal huh “

Your eyes lit up with pure hatred as the security made their way over to you reaching to take you from Sunas hold and lessening your grip on the woman beneath you

“ sir we need you to let her go “

“ don’t touch me until you actually make it all the way to police academy you fucking lowlife. “ you spit out “ how the hell do you only make it to security much less high school reunion security “

“ the hell do you know — you don’t even know how hard police academy is asshole “

“ ah I bet your kids’ll be real proud “ your eyes squinted at his name tag “ todd — you kiss your wife with that mouth “

you laughed eyes rolling from him to suna “ or are you like this asshole and kiss your mistress with it instead ? huh toodles ? “

“ ha — ‘m gonna have fun with you--ya little prick. sir — let ‘em go or else i’ll pull out the big guns — they snuck in here and now their disrespecting an officer “

“ big guns “ your laugh circulated through the room “ ‘k sure let me stop before I get pepper sprayed “

“ my hands already on the trigger you lil bitc— “

“ hey “ sunas voice growled behind you “ watch who the fuck your talking to toodles“

“ just— get—get the fuck off dude I didn’t go to police academy so I could avoid this — their full on disrespecting me come on man get off“ your face scrunched up in annoyance as you saw the security look like they were about to cry

“ well I mean — “ he sighed “ it’s not like your a real officer right“ suna sighed out as he began to bite his lip in worry “ I mean we can let this slide right ? “ he nodded looking towards the males name badge “ uh toodles“

He coughed “ todd — I mean todd “

“ I’m sorry but, even if I could “ his gaze dead set on you “ which I really don’t want to — seeing as though they disrespected me “

His voice sounding proud as he continued “ and I'll have you know I'm security guard of the mouth asshole “

“ oh whoop dee fucking do Tinkerbelle ”

“ y-fucking-/n “ you could feel the way Suna was seething above you breath hot and you could tell his face was made up in a snarl “ if you don't shut the fuck up I swear on Atsumu’s unwashed boxers ill leave your ass prison letters starting tonight “

“ see —— sir I'm trying “ he sighed “ I really am trying to let this go but — “

“ their with me — “

“sure “ he scoffed “ I'll need to see some relations or — “

“ their my s/—their my plus one “ his eyes moved to look at everyone surrounding you guys then back to the position he now held you in before finally dropping you to the floor. Your heart dropping and ears tuning everything out from that point on.

Everything on mute until you got in the car and were finally met with his low voice as he buckled you in and walked to his side turning the car on “ y/n “

You turned to look out the window “ y/n that — “

His voice was so hard but so weak “ y/n that was so fucking embarrassing “ Your body shivered at his words

“ having to watch my fucking s/o almost get fucking arrested “

His hands tightened their grip on the wheel “ then turning around and having to talk you out of it in front of our whole graduating class “

his voice went deadpanned as he swerved a bit on the road mixing lanes “ and — and my team — oh fuck my team “

he started to breathe a bit heavier as you began to feel bad hearing the sadness in his voice. His body shifting in his seat “ all so you could “

he laughed a bit at the situation “ all so you could take your ugly ass insecurities out on your friend ? “

he scoffed looking from you to the road and back to you “ when did you two even stop being friends huh ? did I miss that or ?? do friends just go out and leave bruises on each other or is that something new? What-- is it like a new TikTok trend -- a fashion statement huh ?? the fuck is it because, I'm not a friend person so maybe you know something I don’t “

He scoffed “ maybe — maybe I'll never be a friend person after something like that. If friends are just beating each other’s asses in broad day light out the fucking blue then I'll just stick with ‘tsumu at least I know I can beat his ass if he were to pull some shit like that “

‘ friend ‘ you thought silently

“ poor kid didn’t even see it coming “ he shook his head at you turning back to the road “ holy hell that’s shameful y/n “

he whispered “ I don’t even wanna think about the rumors that’ll spread about us tomorrow “

The car was quiet only for a minute as Suna re arranged his thoughts before he could beat into you again “ friend Suna ? “

your voice was dry “ Rin do friends help each other out of their clothes ? “

your eyebrows creased “ do they focus so intently on another woman while their own is in the same room “

“ I didn’t know you were there “

“ SO YOU ONLY TAKE FRIENDS CLOTHES OFF WHEN IM NOT THERE “

“ NO I “

“ YOU ONLY TOUCH OTHER WOMEN WHEN IM NOT THERE “

“ y/n jus— “ he took a deep breathe and let it out “ just shut up its not like that “ he let out an uncomfortable and tired scoff of a laugh “ it wasn't like that “

“ it’s always shut up Suna it’s never ‘ what’s wrong y/n ‘ ‘ are you ok y/n ‘ it’s just ‘ shut up I don’t wanna talk so you don’t wanna talk either ‘ “

you locked eyes with the male in front of you “ I'm done Rin I'm— I'm done “

“ you cant leave me-- heh not after that shit you pulled back there  “ 

“ fuck if I cant--you don't look like my legs to me and as far as I know their still Bluetooth connected to my mind so-- “

“ you'll be an overnight clown you-you need me y/n “ he shook his head “ we need each other “ 

“ no you need volley ball because you need money-- because guess what asshole as of right now-- your homeless”

“ fuck you as if “

“ we’re over Suna don't let my words finally hit you when you walk out the shitty door”

“ that’s fine by me “ he scoffed “ get the hell out for all I care — I'll pack your shit for you “

“ no— I'll pack your shit asshole your living  in my house bottom feeder “

“ if you don’t shut the fuck u— “

“ then what ? huh what — you’ll leave me “

“ I swear to god I'll —”

“ you’ll what cheat on me with my best friend ah I'm so scared — “ your voice holding nothing but mock enthusiasm “ I can just imagine the way you’ll kiss her when I'm not there — these thoughts for some reason almost feels real y’know “

you watched as the man you’d taught yourself to love for 7 years since high school finally walked out the door. His perfume from earlier still hanging in the air long after the door slammed. Your mind racing when you were finally brought to one thought

‘ how did we end up like this and how the hell do we get back ‘

[winter-soldier-vibes]

I wasn’t there

Bucky x reader

Word count: 2510

Warnings: self harm/self harm scars, little bit of angst, mostly comfort, tears

Summary: Reader self harms and Bucky sees her scars one day on a mission by accident. He feels guilty and wants to help her as much as he can now that he knows. 

Based on the quotes: "Show me your scars, I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn't there"

A/N: Thank you SO MUCH to the anon who sent this in! Not going to lie I was bawling writing this, I love it so much. This deals with heavy topics and mental health so as always, if you feel that reading this will be harmful to your journey in any way, please feel free to skip it. As always, I am here to talk about anything you guys may need. 

A/N 2: Ok there’s a part at the end that I don’t think is technically canon but it’s rumored and has been talked about before in regards to some of Bucky’s scarring on his left arm. I know it’s not a confirmed canon thing but it honestly works so well and I believe it’s true, please don’t come at me for that. <3

Tags: @buckys2thicc @thatfangirl42 @mardema @stucky-on-spiderman @barnesplums @peggycarter-steverogers @abitgryffindorky @buckfics  @freigeistundanderes  

Main Masterlist 

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

You trudged back to your room in the compound, exhaustion taking over your body. You had just gotten back from a mission that had taken the life out of you, more so than any others on the team. You had the power to control elements, but whenever you did it drained the energy out of you. At one point you had been surrounded, forcing you to lift the ground around you to knock everyone back. 

It was more than you had ever done at once, and nearly made you pass out. 

You were able to finish the mission, but you were absolutely exhausted, the worried eyes of Steve, Bucky, Bruce, and Natasha looking over at you. Nat was flying the quinjet, but still glanced back at you from time to time. Bruce was there mainly for medical help, as there wasn’t need for a code green. Steve was just Steve, being worried about you as your Captain. And as the friend of your boyfriend.

Bucky meanwhile would not leave your side. He was concerned, even after Bruce had determined you were nothing more than completely exhausted. He insisted on you lying down and him staying next to you. It was nice to know that he cared about you so much, he would do anything to protect you.

Which is what made your heart ache when you saw his face drop when you had said you were fine, and walked off to your room when you had arrived home.

It wasn’t that you wanted to be around him, not at all. It was just that you wanted to take a shower and wash the sweat and grime off of you, and you didn’t want him to see. Not yet, you hadn’t told him yet.

When you closed the door to your room, you peeled off your uniform, exposing your skin littered with scars varying in depth and age. You turned the water on and leaned against the countertop as you took in yourself. 

God, you hated them. 

You had struggled with self harm for a while now, but it was better than it had been before. It had been really bad before you had started dating Bucky. It’s not like it magically went away when you did, not at all, but just being around him made it easier. Him telling you how much he loved you, spending time with you, you helping him feel more secure. You weren’t alone in your head as much, 

He helped and he didn’t even know it. 

You traced your fingers over the most recent ones on your wrist from a few days ago. They had scabbed over by now, but the memory was still fresh in your mind. It was a panic attack in the middle of the night, and you didn’t want to wake anyone. You knew this would help you and it did. It grounded you back to the moment, calming you down as you focused on the stinging sensation rather than the panic. 

You looked down at all the other marks you had made. Most of them were on your thighs, because they were the easiest to hide. It was easier to wear pants in the summer than long sleeves. But you were running out of room, moving to your arms instead, trying to stay away from your wrists. But a few days ago you couldn’t even think about it through your panic attack. Sometimes you couldn’t think about it, being so overwhelmed that you weren’t quite aware of what you were doing until you saw the blood.

 You remembered making every single one of them. They all had a story, a reason. And all of them were different. 

You wanted to tell Bucky, you knew you would have to eventually. The two of you had avoided intimacy up until now, and slept in different rooms unless either of you was having a rough night and asked the other to stay. It wasn’t that you didn't want to be intimate with him, you had been together for months. But you had to tell him about this first

And you couldn’t find a way to quite yet.

You just couldn’t find the right time or words. You didn’t want to scare him off, and you didn’t want him to look at you in the sad, concerned way that people usually do with this sort of thing. You didn’t want to put this on him. And you for sure didn’t want him to blame himself.

You sighed, tearing your gaze from the mirror. You stepped into the shower, letting the warm water wash over you. You stood there like that for a few minutes before you moved to wash your body, taking your time. You had no plans tonight other than going to sleep. 

Bucky had watched you walk slowly back into the tower, wanting to follow you but also wanting to respect your boundaries and space. You were exhausted, but he wanted nothing more than to comfort you the entire night. But you didn’t want him too, and he wanted to respect that.

Still, it broke his heart to watch you limp away. He felt helpless. 

He couldn’t help but wonder if something was wrong with you. The way that the two of you had been together for as long as you had without some form of intimacy. He was patient, he would never want to push you, but he wondered why. Whenever the two of you had a conversation you had seemed to stiffen slightly and get uncomfortable. 

He never pressed it. Just dropped it and hugged you, telling you it was fine to wait. 

But the more time passed, the more helpless he felt. He felt like you were hiding something from it. He just wished he knew what it was so he could better help you. But in a way he understood. Everything that he had gone through - forcing someone to open up usually unintentionally makes them shut down. 

Even so, as he went back to his room he couldn’t stop thinking of you. He took his own quick shower, putting on sweats and a T-shirt before he came to check on you. He just wanted to make sure you were alright.

You had gotten out of the shower yourself, slowly drying yourself off before going back to your dresser to find something comfortable to wear. It was brutally hot and you were exhausted, pulling on a tank top and shorts. You were about to go back to lie down when you heard a soft knock on the door.

You sighed in frustration, closing your eyes for a moment. “Yeh, just a minute,” you said, exhausted, grabbing a pair of sweatpants and a loose sweatshirt to pull over yourself. You walked over to the door and opened it slightly, giving the man in front of you a tired smile.

“Hey Bucky.”

Bucky’s face softened, a small smile spreading on his face. “Hey doll. I - I know you said you wanted some time to yourself but I just wanted to check on you.”

You smirked at him slightly. “I’m just about the same as when we walked off the quinjet Bucky.” You shrugged, tugging your sleeves down - nervous habit. “I’ll be fine, I’m just really tired.”

Bucky looked you up and down quickly. “You sure?”

You hesitated a moment longer than you should’ve, quickly bringing yourself out of it. “Yeah.”

“You don’t sound sure,” he said gently. “Can I stay with you tonight?”

“Look I’m fine, I just want to go to sleep. I’m exhausted.”

“Please? Let me take care of you, it’s been a long day,” he said.

“You don’t have to Bucky,” you started, shaking your head lightly.

“I want to,” he assured you.

Sighing, you opened the door more to let him in. it wasn’t that you didn’t want him to stay, you did in a way. You always slept better with him there. You just really wanted to take off the sweats. But that would mean having a conversation that you weren’t ready for.

Sweat was better than tears.

You climbed into bed and Bucky laid down beside you, wrapping his arm around you. He kissed the temple of your head as you relaxed back against his chest. “Try to get some rest sweetheart.”

You hummed, already feeling exhaustion overtake you as you closed your eyes, drifting off to sleep faster than you ever had.

-----------

You woke the next morning feeling much better than the night before. You shifted slightly, feeling Bucky’s arms still around you. 

“Good morning sleeping beauty.”

“What? What time is it?” you asked sleepily.

Bucky chuckled behind you. “It is almost noon.”

Your eyes widened as you started to sit up. “What? I slept that long? How long have you been awake, I’m sorry -”

“Hey, sweetheart, don’t worry about it. I've been awake for a while but it’s no problem. You needed the rest and I’m glad you got it.”

You hummed again in acknowledgement, reaching your hands up to rub your eyes. What you hadn’t realized was that while you were asleep, your sleeves had ridden up slightly. You never had to worry about your wrists because you had never gone down that low on your arms. 

“Angel, what’s that?” Bucky asked, grabbing your arm gently to get a better look. You took your arm away quickly, tugging your sleeve down. You shook your head and crossed your arms as you stood up. “It’s nothing, really. I’m gonna go shower.”

“It doesn’t look like nothing,” Bucky said, standing and walking over to you. You tensed, and he noticed. “Did someone hurt you?”

“Please drop it Bucky,” you pleaded, still unable to meet his eyes. 

“Y/n I swear if someone hurt you -”

“I did it.” you blurted out, surprising you both. You took a shaky breath, and Bucky felt his heart drop, praying he had heard you wrong. 

“What?” he asked, barely audible. The only noise was your heart hammering in your ears. You swallowed, looking down at the ground and fiddling with your sleeves again. 

“I hurt myself sometimes,” you said with a small shrug. “It helps.”

“With what?” he asked, carefully. 

You met his eyes, tears pricking your own. “Everything.”

Silence. Bucky walked towards you slowly, pulling you into a hug, as you closed your eyes, silent tears falling. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t know how to.” you said simply. “I was embarrassed and ashamed, and I didn’t want you to blame yourself.”

He held you tightly, rubbing a hand up and down your back as more tears fell despite you trying to hold them back. “Can I see?”

You pulled back and tensed up, looking at him. “What?”

“Show me your scars,” he said.

You shook your head slightly, confused. “Why?”

“Because I want to see how many times you needed me and I wasn’t there,” he whispered.

You looked at him for a moment. “Bucky, I can’t do that, I -”

“Please y/n,” he whispered. “It’s just me.”

You studied him for a moment before nodding. With shaky hands, you pulled the sweatshirt over your head, dropping it on the floor and resisting the urge to cross your arms. You stepped out of your sweatpants next, keeping your eyes downcast. You heard a sharp intake of breath from Bucky, but you weren’t able to look at him yet.

Bucky felt his heart shatter at the scars littered across your arms. There were so many marks, he didn’t want to even think about how many there were. He felt tears prick his eyes but he knew he had to be strong right now. It pained him how much you were hurting and how oblivious he was. He took your hands in his, you still unable to look at him.

 “I’m so sorry it took me this long to be there for you.”

You shook your head, looking at him. “Don’t do that to yourself, please, it’s not your fault Bucky. You’re the reason it’s not worse.” You turned around and crossed your arms. “ I’m sorry, Bucky, I didn’t know how to tell you. They’re ugly, they’re disgusting. I’m disgusting. Who’s so fucked up that they have to slice open their skin to make themselves feel better? I hate myself more than anyone I’ve ever known. How pathetic is that?” 

“Y/n, can you look at me?”

Trying to blink back tears, you met his gaze again, his eyes glassy. “Your fight is our fight. None of this is your fault, don’t apologize for how you had to fight on your own. I’m here now, okay?” His hand ghosted over your scars. “These scars right here are your battle scars. They tell your story of how strong you are. Never be afraid or ashamed of that, okay?” 

You looked down, still embarrassed. 

“Hey, y/n. It’s okay.”

Before you could respond, Bucky took off his own shirt, something he had never done in front of you. Your eyes found the scars where metal met skin, most of them faded but had obviously been deep. You reached your hand out to trace over his scars.

“When they gave me this arm and they were starting to tortue me I would scratch at it. Whenever I had been out of cryo for long enough I would start to remember and claw at it too, before they wiped me again. I thought I was a monster.”

You shook your head. “No, Bucky that wasn’t your fault, you didn’t ask for Hydra to do all those things to you.”

“You didn’t ask for your mental struggles either. So why are you ashamed?”

“You didn’t ask for the metal arm, you wanted to get rid of it. It wasn’t in your control. This, what I do, I choose to do it every time. It doesn’t feel like a choice but I still pick up the knife.”

“But I bet if you could you would choose to put it down, yeah?” he brushed a piece of hair out of your eyes. “It’s okay y/n. Don’t be ashamed of how you helped yourself survive.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath. “I’m sorry.”

He shook his head and pulled you into another hug. “Don’t apologize for letting me be a part of your story.”

[auramindedd]

Fixed? Never - SMAU*

Part 3

CorpseHusband x FemReader

Warnings: cussing

A/N: again, any posts with a “ * ” attached to “smau” has writing in it. imma focus A LOT more on just the social media n message perspective, but y/n n corpse meet in this part soooo i had to add some writing :) something else b4 i forget; i’m updating my masterlist and changing it into a directory post that way you guys can also request through a google form! i’ll have requests open at all times unless i get too stressed out or if they overfill. due to me changing my masterlist, there’s gonna be about 6 posts i think. also,, thank you guys so much for 600 followers! i’ve been hitting a bunch of milestones and haven’t been remembering to say thank you, but just know that i appreciate every single one of you... also i love reading y’all’s comments 😭

🤍 directory

🕊 previous

☁️ next

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

You make sure you’re set up before 6 PM, which was probably a mistake. You can’t sit still, you’re starting to get nervous, and you kind of just want to run away to McDonald’s.

Sure, you know Ludwig, Dream, and Rae, but it feels like you’re at school all over again. That anxious feeling of having to be with people while your best friends aren’t around.

You’re leg is bouncing, your nails are tapping on your desk, and you can’t stop running your hand through your hair. It probably looks like a fucking bird nest by now.

You start streaming, deciding that maybe talking to your supporters will make things a bit better.

“Hey, loves,” You greet in a not so Y/N-fashioned way. Of course, the chat catches on, and you’re being called out for it. You can’t help but giggle at the fact that your supporters know how you usually are.

@user: What happened to, “Hey, bitches!”

@user: Ou, someone is nervous.

Yeah, they obviously know you very well.

“Alright, let’s start over.” You clear your throat for dramatic effect because, well, when are you not dramatic? “Hey, bitches!” Yup, even you know that just feels right.

After a while of talking to your supporters, Rae sends you the Discord invite and the Among Us code. You join, feeling your nerves start to come back.

“Y/N!” Rae exclaims in excitement when she sees you’ve joined the Among Us lobby.

“Hi,” You say, shyness lacing your voice.

“Oh my God! The cutest voice.” Jack says. Wow, what a compliment coming from the Jack_Septic_Eye.

You take time to introduce yourself to everyone, trying to calm your nerves.

“Are we gonna start?” Ludwig’s impatient ass asks.

“We’re waiting for Corpse.” Rae explains.

Shit, another person you have to introduce yourself to?

“Hey, Corpse!” Sykkuno greets quickly, very obviously racing to be the first to say hi to Corpse.

“Hey, Sykkuno,” Corpse chuckles, and woah, the last thing you expected. You can’t help but be surprised, and you know it’s showing on your face. Why? Because your supporters are teasing you in the chat.

“Corpse,” Rae says in a sing-songy tone. “This is Y/N.” And your heart drops to your fucking stomach. Every single time it happens when you have to meet someone, but now your heart is beating even faster because you’re obviously the only one who hasn’t met Corpse. They’re all expecting a reaction out of you...

“Hey, Y/N.” His deep, husky voice says. You can hear the smile in his voice and it helps ease your nerves.

“Hi,” You greet, shyness still lacing your voice.

Corpse chuckles, “So cute.” Now you’re blushing. Great...

Rae starts the game, saving you before the others can start teasing you.

Crewmate.

You’ve only played Among Us once, in a public server with Dream, George, Karl, and Alex, and then you got bullied for not knowing what the fuck to do.

To say the least, you’re pretty glad to be Crewmate and not Impostor.

“Y/N!” Jack shouts, walking up to you. You slightly jump, forgetting they’re playing with Proximity Chat.

“Jack!” You shout back, letting his astronaut catch up to you.

“We were expecting a reaction.” He says, and of course they were.

“Uh, yeah, I don’t know. I feel like he hears it a lot, don’t want to add on to the list of Things People Say To Him Everyday.”

“Yeah, he’s probably very grateful for that.”

“Grateful for what?” Charlie walks up to you two.

“Nothing,” Jack drawls. You’ve just met Charlie, but you know that he’d tease both you and Corpse about one another’s voices.

“Oh, I know!” Charlie exclaims, but before he can say what he knows-

“Okayyy! That’s enough interaction with Charlie for today.” Jack says, and you take that as a, ‘Walk the fuck away now, Y/N!’

You walk around, trying your best to finish tasks, but when it comes to the card swipe in Admin, you want to quit life as a whole.

“Ugh, I fucking quit.” You groan, slamming your hands on your desk. A deep, rumbling chuckle comes through on your headphones.

“Having trouble?” Corpse teases.

“Yeah. I wanna rip every strand of my fucking hair out.”

“Swipe it slower.” And with that, you try again. Voila! Just like magic.

“Well if I would’ve fucking known.” You groan, Corpse chuckling.

“Here, I can help you with the game.”

“Yes, please, I don’t know shit about it.”

“You know, you cuss a lot for having such a sweet, innocent, and cute voice.” Corpse laughs.

“Yeah,” You drawl. “I know, bad fucking habit.” You slap your hand over your mouth. How does someone cuss in every sentence? Get a filter, damn.

Corpse walks around with you as you both finish tasks, explaining how the game works, and giving you tips for when you do end up being an Impostor.

Honestly, you could listen to his voice all day. He’s also really sweet.

“What are you two up to?” Brooke asks, doing tasks in Electrical with you two. Corpse told you to make sure you’re always aware of your surroundings when you’re in Electrical. So, naturally, you’re freaking out, but silently and internally.

“Brooke,” Corpse warns. He doesn’t even have time to finish his warning. Brooke kills him, his body flopping over, the one bone sticking out from the top of his body. Your mouth falls open.

“Hey, Y/N. Let’s be besties!” You don’t know what to do, but ay, #girlsupportinggirls, right? So, you walk with her. She helps you along the way, also telling you tips on the game, explaining how everything works. Then, after about a minute, a whole 60 seconds, Corpse’s body is reported.

“Why Corpse? Such an innocent man with a beautiful voice.” Lud fake cries.

“Get over it,” Brooke says.

“It’s Brooke! Brooke’s an Impostor!” Lud shouts.

“What? No! I was with Y/N for a lot of this round.” Brooke defends herself, and oh fuck, who the fuck do you defend? You’ve just met both of them, one of them will possibly hate you forever.

“Y/N?” Sykkuno grabs your attention, snapping you out of your thinking.

“Yeah, she was. She wouldn’t have had time to kill Corpse. Where was the body?” Well, there you go, potentially ruining yours and Corpse’s blooming friendship. Sad Girl Hour, type beat.

“In Electrical,” Charlie says.

“Yeah, no way she would’ve had to time to kill him.”

Nobody’s voted out. Brooke hasn’t even told you who the second Impostor is so, you don’t know if you should stay with her or not.

As you and Brooke are walking around, or skipping as she sees it, and holding hands, Dream pops out of a vent. Well, there’s Imposter two.

“Woah! Dream, way to out yourself out.” You tease, throwing your head back and laughing.

“Please, you’ve been with Brooke the whole time. Don’t say anything.” Dream begs, making you and Brooke giggle.

“I won’t, I won’t.”

“Thank you,” He starts walking away from you guys, but not without finishing his sentence that you thought was already finished. “Cutie.” And there, finished.

Fucking finished! Tweedle-dee, tweedle dum! Whoopty-fucking-do! Fan-fucking-tastic! A-fucking-mazing!

And of course you’re blushing for the whole 80,000+ people watching to tease you about.

“Oh my God!” Brooke squeals. “What was that?!”

“I’ll explain later,”

•*•*•*•*•

“Y/N, how could you?” Corpse says, offended.

“I’m sorry! I didn’t know what to do.”

“She’s my enemy, Y/N. We were supposed to stick together. I told you some tips and tricks, explained how to be a badass Impostor, everything!” Wow, he’s a good fucking actor.

“I can very well do the same thing, bitch.” Brooke spits, all in a playful manner - you hope...

“Not better than me, bitch.” Corpse retorts, his astronaut getting closer.

•*•*•*•*•

Imposter.

With Corpse.

Great.

Your enemy. Or as he put it, “Enemy who he can maybe, and most likely, will become friends with in the near future.”

“Follow,” He says, and even though he’s your enemy, you do.

“I gotta do my own thing.”

“You don’t know how to do shit.” Corpse scoffs.

“Okay then, what the fuck are we gonna do?”

“Double kills, all the way, but only when we meet up with each other. So, right now, we’ll both go our own ways, but when we see each other again, we’ll walk to a pair and do a double kill if we can.” Corpse explains.

“Brooke told me not to do double kills often. It won’t help get through a game.”

Corpse snorts, “Brooke doesn’t know dog shit about this game.”

“Fine,” You groan, going along with it only because you don’t know dog shit about the game either.

As Corpse explained, you two do double kills every time you meet up. You two managed to get double kills where people rarely go - Shields, Comms, and the top of Cafeteria.

After killing Rae and Sykkuno, the game ends. You made sure to leave Brooke and Dream alive.

“Period, we did that!” You exclaim, everyone else groaning and complaining about how you two should never be an Impostor duo again. “But I still fucking hate you because you hate me!”

“Exactly!” Corpse retorts in the same tone as you.

•*•*•*•*•

•••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Taglist - comment or message me to be added!

* if your username is in bold, please reach out to me; you’re at risk of having your username removed that way i can clear space for other tags. *

@cherry-piee @littlered00 @sunnywinterdays @strang-ersclub @callmemaeve-y @powerpuffyn @kusuinko @where-thesundoesntshine @letglimmersayfuck @coryisagee @a-dot-dev @ifilosemyselfagain @tayloryorkscurls @lex-prplatmngrl @letsloveimagines @youretheonlyonewhomakesme @smiithys @mikayladoesntknow @clubfairy @mirahg @thurstyforholland @thatsouthernblondewiththeass @majasophieanna

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[drabbles-mc]

Pick Up The Pieces

Opie Wintson x F!Reader

Request by Anon: Opie being gutted when he finds out Lyla doesn't want more kids, cheats on her with his best friend who actually turns up preggo. I feel like it could be a angst, smut, fluff combo. Idk thank you!

Warnings: language, angst, cheating, unprotected sex, vaginal fingering, pregnancy, (this really really has it all my friends)

Word Count: 3.8k

A/N: While it is usually against my moral code to inflict pain on my lumberjack husband, I got pretty into this. I hope this is what you had in mind! xo

Join my group-chat here: (X) ​

SOA Taglist: @garbinge​ @chibsytelford​ @mayans-sauce​ @adela-topaz-caelon​ @masterlistforimagines​ @mijop​ @xladymacbethx​ @i-just-read-stuff​ @kkim120​ @multiyfandomgirl40​ @everyhowlmarksthedead​ @toni9​ @unicornucopia-fuckers​ @shadow-of-wonder​ (If you want to be tagged just let me know! xo)

You heard the knock at the door and you instantly became confused. It was late on a Friday night and your place wasn’t exactly known for being a party spot. Case in point, you were bundled up in a fluffy bathrobe with a bowl of popcorn and a bottle of wine while watching He’s Just Not That Into You for the millionth time. You tightened the belt of your robe as you stood up and made your way to the door.

Looking through the peephole, you see Opie standing on the other side of your door. It was too dark to get a good look at his expression, but if he was showing up by himself on a Friday night you had to assume that he wasn’t in the best of shape.

Unlocking the door, you opened it and greeted him with a soft smile, “Hey, Ope.”

He didn’t even have it in him to muster a smile, “Hey. Sorry to just show up like this.”

You shook your head as you gestured for him to come inside, “No need to apologize. My door is always open for you,” you shut and locked it once he came inside, “What’s going on?”

Opie towered over everyone, yourself included, but he looked so small as he stood in the middle of your living room. His head hung low, his shoulders slumped, and you could see the defeated look on his face. You stepped in and hugged him, pressing yourself tight against his chest. His arms looped tight around you and rested the side of his head against yours. You felt his chest rise and fall slowly as he took one deep breath after another, trying to keep it together.

“You can talk to me, you know,” you stayed leaning against him, “Did something happen?”

There were a million different things that it could be. The club had been a mess lately, you knew that things with him and Lyla had been rocky, and then there was the hot mess express that was his family. There were a lot of different things to choose from, you just wondered what had him in such a hurt place.

“Shit with Lyla,” he mumbled against your hair.

You sighed quietly, disappointed but not surprised. You had no problem with Lyla—she seemed like a sweet woman. She was a good friend to the club and she was good with her kid and Opie’s. But you always had the feeling that Opie was trying to fit a square peg into a round hole with her. He wanted things to work but he also wanted her to change, which wasn’t fair to either of them.

“What happened?”

“She doesn’t want kids. Never bothered to fuckin’ mention it,” he shook his head, “Lied about being on birth control.”

You couldn’t hide your surprise. Usually, women who hooked up with the guys lied about being on birth control meaning they said they were on it when they weren’t, not the other way around. But it really shouldn’t have surprised Opie, especially given Lyla’s line of work.

“I’m sorry,” you told him.

He shook his head, “Don’t be. It’s not your fault. You told me from the jump that it wasn’t going to work.”

You pulled back from him, “That’s not what I said. I said it was going to take some work.”

His laugh was hollow, “Right.”

You let your arms drop back to your sides, “Take your boots off, stay awhile. I’m only like twenty minutes into my movie if you wanna join me.”

He looked at the screen and instantly knew what you were watching, which he hated admitting, “You never get tired of this one, huh?”

You shook your head, “Nope,” you walked to the kitchen and grabbed a second wine glass, “I don’t have any beer. Wine alright?”

He chuckled and nodded, “I’ll take whatever you got.”

You walked back over to the couch and sat down next to him, handing over the glass as you did. He picked the bottle up off the coffee table and poured himself a generous glass, immediately taking a long drink out of it. You were so used to seeing Opie with either a beer bottle or a shot glass in his hand that it was a bit of an amusing switch-up to see him sipping on Moscato.

“You wanna talk about it?” you’d been friends with Opie long enough to know that sometimes he just needed to brood about things for a bit before having a discussion about them. You still always offered the option, though.

He shook his head, “No.”

“Wanna watch Justin Long get his world turned upside down with me?”

He chuckled, nodding, “Sure.”

You leaned onto his side as you pulled your feet up underneath you. It had been a while since the two of you had gotten to spend some quality one-on-one time with each other. You wished that it hadn’t been brought on by him being so upset, but nonetheless you were glad that he still considered you someone that he could lean on.

“Thank you,” he said after a few minutes of silence, draping his arm around your shoulders.

You nodded, “Of course. Listen, I have movie night here with myself every Friday night. You’re always invited.”

He chuckled, “I’ll keep that in mind.”

You felt him press you tighter against his side, “I really am sorry, Opie.”

He sighed, “It is what it is. Just gotta…pick up the pieces I guess.”

You turned and looked up at him, and despite the fact that he sounded calm and collected, you could see it in his eyes how hurt he was. He’d always been a family man. In your eyes, he was a family man who got put in the wrong life, but there was nothing to do about that now. He was being forced to juggle it and figure it all out. Learning was tough.

“You’ll figure it out,” you nodded as you reassuringly rested your hand on his chest, “You always do.”

Behind the tears and underneath the sadness, you could see something else in his eyes. You ignored it, not wanting to make a bad situation worse. You pulled away, clearing your throat as you poured yourself another glass of wine. You offered the bottle to him, and he gladly accepted it and refilled his glass.

You found yourself curled comfortably against his side again, pretending not to notice that his hand had slid down to rest dangerously low on your hip. You could feel the slight pressure of his fingertips through the fluff of your robe. You fought to stay focused on the movie but it was difficult when you could feel him staring down at you.

“Something you wanna talk about?” you finally asked.

Despite the look in his eyes, he shook his head, “No.”

“You sure?”

You saw his eyes dart down and look at your lips, and instantly the heat began to rise in your face. You knew that he was just lost and hurting, and that you were just full of liquid confidence, but part of you was telling you that it wouldn’t be the end of the world. If there was anyone you could maintain a friendship with after a hookup, it was Opie, right?

“You’re beautiful.”

You chuckled, trying to pretend that you were less flustered than you really were, “And you’re full of wine.”

He reached out and cupped your chin when you went to turn away, forcing you to look at him, “I mean it,” his hand slid up so that it was resting on your cheek.

You placed your hand over his, “This isn’t what you need right now, Ope,” it killed you to say it but you knew that it was true.

“Please,” it was the most broken you’d heard his voice sound in a while.

That, and the look in his eyes, wiped away what little self-control you had left. You gave him a slight nod and he instantly leaned in, pressing his lips to yours. You’d imagined kissing Opie a thousand times, even if you didn’t want to admit it, but it never went quite like this. It was desperate, like he was trying to fill a void, and you let him try. His hands cupped either side of your face and you reveled in the feeling of the roughness of his hands against the soft skin of your cheeks.

His hands dropped, gripping onto your hips and maneuvering you so that you were straddling his lap. You kept your lips pressed to his as you tore the beanie off his head, letting his hair fall down to his shoulders. You raked your fingers through it as you bit down lightly on his bottom lip, causing him to wrap his arms tighter around you.

He pulled his lips off of yours, letting them slide down to your neck. You tilted your head back to give him better access, a soft moan escaping your lips as he began to untie the belt of your robe. He pushed it down off your shoulders and let it drop to the floor. He drank in the sight of you in nothing but your bra and underwear, hands exploring all of the newly exposed skin that he had access to.

You lifted the bottom hem of his shirt, tossing it off to the side. You gawked at his tattoos, the muscles that flexed throughout his chest and shoulders. You’d seen him without a shirt on countless times, but being able to look and being able to touch were two completely different things. You lightly traced your fingers along the tattoos that covered his skin, but your admiration time was cut short as he pulled you into another needy kiss, reminding you what this was all really about.

His tongue ran along your bottom lip as he pulled your panties to the side, tracing one finger along your folds. You shuddered and moaned into his mouth at the contact, wordlessly begging him for more contact. Your nails dug into his shoulders as he slid his finger into you, moaning at how wet you already were.

You bit down hard on his bottom lip as he slid another finger in to join the first. You hungrily moved against his hand, desperate for any and all contact. His other hand rested on the back of your neck, making sure that your lips stayed attached to his. You could feel the heat radiating off of his body as his grip on you tightened slightly.

You pulled away, hands instantly going to the buckle of his belt. As soon as it was undone Opie lifted his hips off the couch just enough to push his jeans and boxers down below his knees, letting them pool by his ankles on the floor. He gripped back onto your hips and pulled you closer, situating you so that you were right over him. You leaned in and pressed your lips to his as he pushed himself inside you, both of you moaning at the sensation.

Not wasting any time, you began to move your body against his. It was messy, desperate, but the two of you didn’t need anything more than that. His nails dug into your back as you mindlessly tugged at his hair. He swallowed your moans as his nails raked down your back, your hands roughly cupping his face as he did.

How years had gone by without you two ending up in this position until now was beyond you. But as your hips moved against his you knew that you’d dug yourself into a very deep hole that you didn’t know if you would be able to get yourself out of. You didn’t want to go back to how things were before this, regardless of how you ended up getting here in the first place.

Your anxieties were drowned out by the sound of Opie moaning your name, fingertips digging hard into your hips. You cursed under your breath as he bit down on your neck, sucking a dark mark into the skin there.

“Fuck, Opie,” you gasped, “I’m gonna cum.”

He let out a low growl as he gripped harder onto you, hands sliding down do your ass and speeding up your movements. You buried your face into the crook of his neck, the sound of his name filling the house as he fucked you through your orgasm. Your legs trembled beneath you as you blindly grabbed onto his shoulders to support you.

His voice was raspy as he tried and failed to get out at least one coherent sentence, “Fuck, I’m gonna, where…”

“Fuck it,” you pressed your lips hard against his for a moment, “I’m on the pill. Doesn’t matter.”

Moments later you felt him pull you as close as possible as he finished inside you, moaning and biting down hard on your shoulder as he did. He rested his forehead against your shoulder, fighting to catch his breath as he wrapped his arms tight around your middle. You leaned your head against his and lightly carded your fingers through his hair. His chest rose and fell against yours and you soaked up the contact, knowing in the back of your mind that you weren’t going to have it for long.

He stayed the night with you, and it was more of the same. You knew he was just trying not to think about the heartbreak, and you were in no position to turn him away. It was going to make it worse in the morning, but you didn’t care. He wrapped you up and held you against his chest, breathing heavy as he tangled his legs up with yours and slowly started drifting off to sleep.

You woke up the next morning to an empty bed, which shouldn’t have been as surprising or as hurtful as it was. With a heavy sigh you pulled on an old t-shirt and made your way out to the kitchen. You saw a note on the counter next to an already-made pot of coffee. You would be able to recognize Opie’s scratchy handwriting from a mile away.

“Sorry for crashing in and leaving. Thank you for everything. Love you. -Opie”

With a sigh you tacked the note up on the fridge. You knew you should’ve just crumpled it and thrown it out, but you couldn’t. Not yet. With a heavy sigh you went to shower off the events of the previous night in an attempt to get your mind right.

You walked into the clubhouse that night, and the weekly party was already well underway. Everyone was drinking and laughing, and it was a welcome distraction. You couldn’t pretend, though, that you weren’t constantly looking for Opie.

“What brings you here, darlin’?” Jax asked with a smile as he found a spot next to you at the bar.

You leaned into his hug with a smile, “I heard parties can be a good distraction.”

He nodded, smirking when he spotted the dark marks on your neck. He tapped them with the tip of his finger, “Looks like you’ve got a handle on that just fine.”

You laughed, face instantly getting hot, “Something like that.”

“That what you need a distraction from?”

You nodded, not caring to elaborate further, “Opie here tonight?”

Jax looked around the clubhouse as he nodded, “Yea. Got here with Lyla a few minutes ago.”

“What?”

Jax returned his gaze to you, not used to hearing such a bite to your tone, “Um. Yea. You alright?”

You nodded despite the fact that you weren’t anywhere near alright. Your heart felt like it had dropped into your stomach, “I’m fine. I just, I need to step out for some air. You see Opie tell him to come find me?”

Jax nodded but didn’t say anything else as you got off your stool and all but ran for the door. You sat down at the picnic table, running your hands down your face as you fought back the tears. You had assumed that he had ended things with Lyla and that’s how he ended up at your place, but of course not. He was never good at being alone, he wouldn’t put himself in that position if he could help it.

A few minutes later you saw someone take a seat next to you out of the corner of your eye. You didn’t need to look in order to know who it was.

“You didn’t fucking break up with her?” you weren’t expecting to sound so choked up.

“Y/N, I just—”

“Just cheated on your girlfriend with me? And didn’t bother to mention that to me?” you shook your head, “And then I fucking showed up here tonight and…” your bottom lip quivered, “Fuck, Opie.”

“I know.”

“Do you?!” you snapped, “Lyla didn’t deserve that! And I sure as hell didn’t either,” you stood up, pacing back and forth in front of the table, “Y’know what, fuck this. I, I can’t be here.”

He stood up to walk after you, “Y/N, don’t. Come on.”

You were already digging your keys out of your purse, “Don’t give me that. I can’t…I can’t look at you or be around you right now. Figure your shit out, Opie.”

That was the last thing you said to him. It’d been a little over a month since then, and you hadn’t spoken to him or been back to the clubhouse since. You were currently hugging the toilet bowl as you threw up what little was left in your stomach from dinner the night before. On top of the actual nausea, you had an uneasy feeling that you knew exactly what was causing it.

Once you rinsed out your mouth and brushed your teeth, you grabbed the pregnancy tests out of the bag from the pharmacy. It was a long shot but they did always say that even the pill wasn’t 100% effective. Just your luck, you would be in the 1% that could still get pregnant on the pill.

You set the test on the sink counter and set the timer on your phone, your entire body shaking in anticipation as you waited. You didn’t know what you wanted the result to be, really. You’d always wanted kids at some point down the road, with the right person. This just felt so sudden, with so many blank spaces.

The timer went off and with a deep breath, you looked at the test. Clear as day, the little screen said pregnant. For a moment you felt like you were going to throw up all over again. But you managed to keep your composure and take another test just to be sure, and you were rewarded with the same answer. You sighed, running your hands over your face as you tried to figure out what you were going to do.

You took out your phone and texted Opie, “Come over ASAP. We gotta talk”

After a month and a half of not speaking, that was probably an alarming text for him to get. It was effective, though, because within the hour you heard the sound of his motorcycle outside. He let himself in, finding you sitting at the kitchen counter with your head in your hands.

“Got your text. What’s going on?”

Before you got into it, you wanted some answers on a few things first, “How’s Lyla?”

He sighed, thinking that you had called him over just to continue berating him, “Wouldn’t know. Haven’t talked to her in weeks,” he paused, “Broke it off the week after that party.”

You nodded, “Right. Good. You tell her what happened with us?”

He shook his head, “No point. Didn’t want to drag you into all that shit if you weren’t even coming around anymore,” he waited for you to meet his eyes, “What’s this about?”

You sighed, waving for him to come closer. He walked into your kitchen, leaning on the opposite side of the counter from you. Your leg bounced nervously as you tried to put the words together, “I, um, fuck,” you took a deep breath and forced yourself to make eye contact with him, “I’m pregnant.”

His eyes went wide, “What?”

You nodded, “I’m pregnant. Missed my period a couple weeks ago. Took two tests today to be sure.”

“Is it…” he didn’t have to finish the sentence for you to know what he was asking.

You nodded, “Yea. Yours.”

“But I thought you were on the pill?”

Your laugh was hollow as tears appeared in your eyes, “I was. Called my doctor about it and everything. It happens. Not common but it happens,” you shook your head, “I’m not saying you need to be involved or that we need to be together or whatever. I just, I couldn’t not tell you.”

There was a long stretch of silence as he processed what you had just told him. He drummed his fingers on the countertop, “Do you want me to be involved? You want,” he gestured back and forth between the two of you, “this? Us?”

“I’ve been in love with you for years, Ope. I never said anything because you’ve always been in love with someone else. Which was, fine. It was what it was. But when you came over here that night? I almost had a fucking heart attack. And then when I found out that you hadn’t even left Lyla I was fucking…gutted. I felt so dirty and…and used.”

“Y/N, it wasn’t—”

You held your hand up to stop him, “Don’t lie. Not to me, alright? You were a mess and I shouldn’t have let it happen. But I did. That was just as much on me as it was on you. I just never thought that you would do that to Lyla. Or to me.”

“I came here that night because I trust you, because I love you,” he said, his eyes glued to the counter, “You’ve always been…safe. And I shouldn’t…I shouldn’t have used you for that. That was fucked up. And I’m sorry. But,” he walked around to the other side of the counter, “if you want to do this, I’m here. For you, for the baby. I’m here.”

“I can’t just pretend…”

He nodded, “I know. And I don’t want you to. I know that I’ve got work to do,” he reached and thumbed the tears off your cheeks, “But that’s work I’m more than willing to do if you’ll let me. I love you.”

You let the words sink in for a moment as you shut your eyes and rested your hand on top of his, “I love you too.”

“And I’m sorry.”

You nodded, opening your eyes to look at him, “I know.”

“But I think we could do this. I really do. If that’s what you want.”

You paused, finally giving a slow nod, “I do. But I just…I need some time to get right with all this.”

He pulled you against his chest, pressing a kiss against the top of your head, “I got all the time in the world for you two.”

[omg-im-such-a-masochist]

RESISTERE TENTATIONEM: CAPITULUM I

HELLION: A rowdy or mischievous person

Pairings: Damian Priest x Reader

Warnings: +18 explicit content

Editor: @thenightmareismyreality

Tag: @ziasaph , @theworldofotps , @alyhull , @bellalutionn , @aerynscrichton , @serpantscorpio8497 , @omegasshyghuleh6661ghosts , @squirreledelman , @lovinglerae , @sophiewolfheart-blog , @waywardwrestlewritingwaif , @sassymox

Notes: I’m so into this series that I even made moodboards 🤣 Don’t @ me 😂 I want to give a HUGE a thank you (and shout out) to @letsgivethisonemoreshot for helping me out with this entire trilogy! Thank you for your ideas and feedbacks, love ❤️ If you’d like to check out my previous works, you can find them on my Masterlist 😘

“Miss Y/L/N” He greeted me “Sit down”

Father Damian was the school’s principal, and in the three short months since I transferred to this school, let’s just say I’ve spent a lot of time in a chair in his office

“Yes?” I faked a smile as I stared at him from the chair I was sitting on

“Can you explain to me what this is?” He showed me a piece of paper written ‘Satan rules! And fuck you, Principal Damian’ “And why was this taped to my car window?”

“I have no idea where that came from” I shrugged

“Miss Y/L/N, are we really gonna go down that path?” He pinched the bridge of his nose

“Why do you think that was me?” I pretended to be offended

“Because you’re the only student who has pulled stunts like this before”

“Maybe it was one of your perfect little students” I stood up and made my way towards his wooden desk and sat on top of it “You know, the ones who wear the pearl necklaces to show their purity” I laughed

“Miss Y/L/N, please refrain yourself from talking ill of the other students and return to your seat”

“Why? Because they’re pure, perfect and collected?” I slid across the desk and placed myself in front of him “Because they’re God’s children and I’m Satan’s spawn?”

“Miss Y/L/N” He warned

“Yes, Father?” I batted my lashes at him

“Ever since you stepped foot inside this school, you have done nothing but speak profanities, break the school’s dress code and make the lives of everyone in here a living Hell!”

“When have I spoken profanities?” I gasped, acting as if I was shocked

“You asked your classmate if you could caress her…. pussy!” He said through gritted teeth and I held back a chuckle

“And what’s wrong with that? She got a cat and I wanted to know if I could pet her”

“You asked another colleague if you could taste her melons!”

“She brought some with her for a snack and I love melons! Don’t you love them too, father?” I smirked

“What about the ‘BJ practice at 4pm behind the bleachers in gym’ sign you were caught hanging on the wall?” He crossed his arms in front of his chest

“What? BJ: Bible Jam, where we go over some hymns and try to set up a choir, since you don’t have one here”

“Is the choir for you ‘demonic pagan chants’ you love to recite in Latin to the other students?”

I just shrugged in response

He sighed “You’re turning nineteen years old next month, Miss Y/L/N! You’re an adult, so behave as such! The entire reason you were transferred here in the first place was because of your horrid habit of skipping classes, which caused you to repeat last year! How long do you plan on continuing that behaviour? Until you turn twenty years old, perhaps? My point is, how difficult is it to follow the rules? You can’t even follow a simple dress code, Miss Y/L/N!”

“That’s absurd!” I said with a huff “I follow the dress code impeccably!”

“By wearing revealing undergarments?”

“How do you know they're revealing if you're not looking, Father?” I smiled

“It’s a bit difficult to not see a red bra underneath a white shirt, Miss Y/L/N”

“So you do like melons then?” I laughed “Oh Father, is the Devil tempting you with the pleasures of the flesh?” I grinned evilly as I leaned towards him, revealing some of my cleavage

“You know perfectly well to not joke with unholy names, Miss Y/L/N” He gulped

“I love to swirl my tongue around the D word, Father” I whispered “Would you like me to show you how well it fits my mouth?”

“Miss Y/L/N, you have no idea what you’re getting yourself into”

“I’m talking about the Devil, Father Damian” I cackled “But I see you have another D on your mind”

“You shouldn’t mock the Devil, Miss Y/L/N. It’s not wise” He whispered, placing both of his hands on my sides and trapping me on the desk

“I’m not mocking, Father. I think he’s quite fun actually...don’t you?” I tilted my head to the side

“All that is forbidden is fun, Miss Y/L/N” His fingers brushed against my exposed thighs “It’s delightful to commit sinful actions”

I was caught off guard by his behavior, I never expected him to actually respond to my flirting

“What’s the matter, Y/N?” He chuckled “Devil got your tongue?”

“Maybe” He placed one hand underneath the hem of my skirt and stroked my inner thigh “He told you that I saw your red lace thong when you bent down to tie your shoes in the hallway this morning”

I gasped in shock and he continued

“The Devil knows our weaknesses so well, doesn’t he, Y/N? He knows that my weakness is a devilish little slut like you, and he knows that your weakness is a holy cock” He laughed

“Father Damian” I gasped

“What’s wrong, Y/N? Wouldn’t you like to commit a sin with me? A delicious, rough, sweaty and lustful sin?” He leaned forward until he was uncomfortably close to me

“Maybe I can turn you into a good little lamb once my cock is buried deep inside your pussy” He nibbled my bottom lip “Would you like me to fuck the filthy whore out of you?”

“Father...I-“

“What is it, Y/N? Not so brave anymore, are we?” He chuckled “I thought you liked teasing, isn’t that what you’ve been doing with me for the past three months? Teasing me non stop with your bratty attitude and smart mouth? Do you think I’m dumb? That I don’t see your true intentions?”

“I-“

“No no no” He placed two fingers on my lips and whispered “Don’t speak” Father Damian turned around and grabbed a Bible from his bookshelf

“Do you know what the punishment is for the lustful people in Hell, Y/N?” He turned around and looked at me in the eyes while placing the Bible on top of his table

I nodded in response

“Enlighten me, then” He grinned

“Those who commit the sin of lust will be punished in Hell by being smothered in fire and brimstone, Father”

“Good girl” He smiled “I see you paid attention to your biblical studies class” He said in a mocking tone

“Don’t you think that sounds so appealing?” He asked, tilting his head to the side and reaching for the Bible

“No, I don’t” I whispered

“Yes, it is. Want me to show you how appealing it can be?” He smirked, opening the Bible

To my surprise it was a hollowed out Bible, inside of it there was a slim vibrator and a bottle of lube

“Why do you have-“

“Yes or no, Y/N?”

“Yes” It slipped out of my mouth so easily

He smirked and reached his hands underneath my skirt, soon after the sound of cloth being torn apart filled up the room. Father Damian kept his gaze locked with mine as he brought my ripped thong to his lips, his tongue darting out and licking the piece of fabric

“Sinners always taste so sweet, don’t they?” He chuckled

Grabbing the lube, he squirted some on his fingers and spread it through my folds, the cold feeling was soon replaced by a warm feeling I never felt before. He added some more lube to his digit and slid his finger in me

“Oh my God” I moaned at the warmth that filled me

He reached for the vibrator and turned it on, sliding the cold toy against my warm bundle of nerves

“Fuck” I shuddered at the pleasurable feeling

“Repeat the punishment for me, Y/N” He smirked

“Being smothered” I started and his free hand wrapped around my throat

“And?” He grinned evilly

“Fire” I whispered, as he squirted more lube directly onto my folds this time

“So much fire” He smirked, replacing his finger with the toy at the same time his grip around my neck closed

I moaned softly as all of the different sensations hit me

“Oh there she is!” He laughed “The sinful little whore” And sucked on my bottom lip “You love to come out and play, don’t you my sweet harlot?”

I just nodded softly

“I’ll give you something even nicer for you to play with, how does that sound to you?”

“Anything, just please” I pleaded

He smiled widely, like a predator. In my foggy haze of pleasure I hadn’t even realized what he meant by that

“Father, please” I moaned

He smiled at my pleading “Oh my dear Y/N, isn't it a real joy to be a sinner?”

[lifewithdavefarts]

DaveFarts - Episode 9 “Trapped In The Closet” [Episode List] Following the most blatant sit-com tropes you can think of, Dave decides to spy on his girlfriend, Dana, because he thinks she’s hiding something. Tim reluctantly decides to join his friend, but the two end up stuck in the girl’s closet, which will eventually turn into a gas chamber.

Trapped In The Closet

“Yeah Dana. Sure. No problem.”

Tim was working on some college tasks, but couldn’t help but to eavesdrop Dave’s conversation with his girlfriend, Dana, on the phone. He could only hear his friend’s replies, which being only the 50% of what they were talking about, it didn’t make a lot of sense. Not that he was interested: Dave was simply hanging out in his room because he had nothing better to do during that warm Summer evening, apparently, and so he simply showed up to Tim’s place with a couple of beers and a remarkable amount of procrastination powers.

Despite being relatively hot outside, Dave was wearing a t-shirt and a pair of long, grey levi jeans, kinda loose as usual. Something that Tim hated about his kink is how quickly he checked his friend’s outfit, something that he always did since Dave is now basically his “fart bud”, against all odds.

“Yeah… yeah… I love you. No… I love you more!”

Kinda funny how Dave, 24, would revert back to an awkward teenager at times whenever he and his girlfriend were on the phone. They probably even acted like that on purpose, because love is doing stupid things together after all.

“Tim. Car. Now!”

Dave hung up and turned weirdly serious, got up and walked downstairs, saying something about getting in the car.

“Wait, what?” Tim asked, questioning whether his friend was being serious or not, but he did follow him to wherever he was going.

“We don’t have much time, Tim. Dana will come back soon. She’s out with her own friends and we have… like… 15 minutes.”

The two walked outside and headed towards the girls’ house, actually only a few blocks away from Tim’s. Tim himself reluctantly followed his bro into this, knowing that, at best, it may turn into a funny mishap to tell to their other pals while being drunk and laugh about it.

“I’ll just pretend your words make any sense, like I usually do…” Tim chuckled, sarcastically, but still following his friend.

“I think she’s hiding something.” Dave explained, walking at a fast pace, Tim right behind him. “She’s been strangely elusive lately and I want to check her room for clues.”

Tim just chuckled in response. “Dave, you do realize that this is not a 90s sit-com, right? Her room? Really? What are you hoping to find out, exactly, anyway? That she’s having some kind of affair behind your back?” he asked, trying to reason with him.

“An affair? You think I’m that kind of guy?” Dave answered, looking surprisingly offended by Tim’s question.   “I just want to make sure she’s fine. She seemed worried about something and she’s like this organized haf-woman/half-machine hybrid who keeps sticky notes in her room to keep an eye on her busy life.”

“Oh…” Tim replied, rather sarcastically.   “Now that makes a lot of sense.”

“Leave your sassiness for later, dork. Can we take your car?” Dave asked.

“Why? We’re already right in front of her house…”

Dave realized that he was so worried that they did, in fact, walked for a couple of blocks and found themselves stepping in Dana’s backyard without even noticing. He just laughed a bit about it.

“Sorry. Love makes me blind.” he joked, knowing that it was a rather silly thing to say anyway.

“Not the words I would have used, but ok.” Tim answered.

“Come on, let’s get inside.” his bro said, with a smirk.  

“Alright… but please, let’s keep a low profile and no awkwa-”

But as they approached to the girl’s house, Dave awkwardly started muttering some kind of theme song that was oddly reminiscent of the Mission Impossibile’s most iconic soundtrack. This guy has a girlfriend, everyone.

“So much for keeping a low profile, Ethan Hunt…” Tim joked.

Dana’s room, following the usual   “average american house tropes” that the writer of this story grew up with in the 90s, was on the second floor. Luckily, the house was empty, so both Tim and Dave could easily climb it without fearing of someone noticing their totally legal actions.

“Look at Tim, such a rebel! Such a fast climber!” Dave whispered, noticing how good Tim was at climbing the girl’s house.

“Thanks. I learned it when I visited your mom.” he joked.

“I thought you’d prefer my dad, you know.” Dave played along, with a rather noticeable reference to Tim’s homosexuality.

“Just… just let’s get done with this.”  

After some awkward climbing, the two found themselves in front of a window leading to Dana’s room. The duo was sitting on a small portion of slanted roof, wondering how to get inside.

“Alright. I could just punch through the window and open it. But you know I don’t like violence against windows.” Dave said, somewhat joking, but really trying to come up with a way to get through this final obstacle.

“Never mind, it’s open.” Tim said, as his hand passed right through the window.   “Or, you know, I got ghost powers all of the sudden, but I doubt it.”

“You’re so funny I forgot to laugh.” Dave commented, as he got inside his girlfriend’s room, making sure no one was there, immediately followed by his sassy friend.

The room was fairly big and messy, books and magazines scattered all around the floor and the bed. Dana was a busy woman: she got a degree in economics but, given the tough times, she had troubles finding a decent job lately. Dave actually suspected that this was the reason she was being nervous about, well, everything, understandably.

“Why don’t you just ask her instead of acting like the perfect boyfriend material that you are?” Tim stated, in his usual snarky tone, noticing Dave basically rummaging through Dana’s more personal stuff.

“Just… let me do my thing ok?” he was serious again, trying to find something that could be clue, deep down knowing that all of that was quite non-sense and even ridiculous, but his stubbornness was showing.   “Wait…”

Something drew his attention. A red (therefore important, according to Dana’s code) sticky note on the nightstand. Something was written on it.

“Oh… I guess I was right…” Dave whispered, eyes glued on the note.

“Something about her job?”  

But Tim didn’t get an answer, as they heard someone coming from downstairs. They probably were so focused on their mission that didn’t even notice how someone got inside the house minutes after them. They went silent and tried to listen to the person’s footsteps.

“Yeah. I’ll keep you posted.”

They heard a muffled female voice getting closer, probably talking on her phone. A voice that was very familiar.

“Fuck! It’s Dana!” Dave whispered.

The two looked around, looking for a quick solution or a place to hide, blatantly ignoring the window they used to get inside in the first place.

“The closet!” Dave said.

Without even questioning whether this was a good idea or not, the duo sneaked inside Dana’s closet and closed themselves inside just as the girl came into her room, still talking on the phone about something.

Tim and Dave managed to mess things up however, as they ended up in a very small section of that apparently big, spacious closet, so they had to arrange themselves in a weird position. Dave was standing up, towering over Tim, who found himself sitting on the floor instead, right behind his friend… with his face perfectly aligned with his loose jeans butt. As his eyes got adjusted to the dark, Tim started to distinguish the seams and texture’s on Dave’s jeans ass, and the tiny red Levi tag on the right back pocket. He couldn’t help but take a look, which he felt really unnecessary, given the context.

“So… this is where you lived for most of your life…” Dave joked, looking around, as if the closet was some kind of fancy mansion.

“Haha! Another gay joke! Great timing, Dave!” Tim muttered instead. The last thing they had to do was talk.

The two waited for a couple of minutes, hoping that Dana would just leave again or even just go downstairs, so they’d have enough time to get out of there in the hopes that Dave didn’t leave any clue of his presence.

“As long a we remain silent…” Tim whispered.   “We have nothing to worry about.”

Only moments after saying that, he felt a very familiar sound greeting his face. It was a long, rumbling sound coming from Dave’s denim ass. It was one of his usual, well-known loud farts, a fart that he was desperately trying to keep as silent as possible. Luckily, Dana was too busy with her phone to even notice the weird noise coming from inside of her closet.

“Dave! What the fuck?!” Tim hissed.

The gassy friend tried not to laugh, realizing how idiotic the whole situation was.   “I’m sorry dude.” he murmured.   “You know what happens when I’m nervous!”  

The smell was unbearable already. Being in a such small space didn’t certainly help. Those were probably some of the smelliest farts Dave ever managed to rip in Tim’s face, although this time was, against all odds, more like an accident.

“Tim…” Dave whispered, carefully placing his butt closer to his friend’s face.

Another fart erupted, sounding dangerously louder than the previous one. The rough surface of Dave’s denim gently caressed Tim’s nose. The blast of gas then turned into something much more subtle, but still otherwise bubbly. Tim felt his nose burn, as really he had no choice but to breath all of that in.

“Dave I swear. If you don’t stop, Dana’s gonna–”

But another   “slow-paced” rumbly fart cut him off. Dave was seriously trying to contain his well-known farting abilities. Tim, instead, was trying to remain calm, feeling like the Universe was somehow messing with him. That was an insane situation: he certainly wasn’t new to Dave’s farts, but in that context, it felt almost like one of his weird dreams about his fart fetish.

“Tim I’m sorry, at least I know you don’t mind… I hope”

Funnily enough, despite the slightly amused tone in his whispering voice, Dave sounded genuinely sorry. Yet he was right: Tim was insanely enjoying it, but knowing that Dana was out there made the whole thing almost surreal. And, once again, as much as Dave always proved so chill about this stuff, he couldn’t help but feel somehow awkward about having his friend face-farting him so non-chalantly.

And yet another   “ninja” fart was ripped all over his face.   Being nervous really turned Dave’s stomach into a messy cloud of gas, and Tim’s nose was there to vacuum it all up, completely defenseless, standing before the sheer power of the gassy friend’s powerful denim-covered anus.

Even though the situation was absurd, Dave couldn’t help but chuckle a bit. After all, the smell hit him too, and it was getting insane even for the farter himself, whose gas just didn’t stop building up.

“Sorry bro… I have to do this.” he whispered.

Tim felt Dave’s hands gently grabbing the back of his head, holding it still, as he pulled him in the clutches of his denim butt. The warm fabric of the jeans was soaking in that unbearable smell. The sniffer then felt the weight of his gassy friend almost crushing his skull. Despite being dark, Tim realized that Dave was basically sitting on him, using his head as some kind of human stool.

The fart was directly ripped in Tim’s mouth at that point, that rumbly sound once again renewing the already destructive stench. It was supposed to be loud, so loud, that Dave had to basically use his friend’s face to deadpan its impressive thunderous noise. The gassy bro was trying to rip it in the form of a long series, hoping that Dana would fail to hear (or even recognize) his well-known gross, but rather impressive talent.

Tim heard his friend’s sighs of relief after each, rumbling fart, but Dave was also trying not to burst into a laughter that could blow their cover. Fart fetish or not, he couldn’t help but to find it more hilarious than gross.

As much as the lack of space in that closet wouldn’t really allow it, Dave even lifted his right leg a bit, while still   “sitting” on his stool-friend, as a way to facilitate the impressive amount of gas gushing out from his anus. It’s not like he had to worry about Tim passing out or finding it too gross, anyway.

That fart itself was lasting longer than both of them anticipated. They lost count of how much time passed, probably a full minute. Tim’s face was warm and sweaty now, still trapped in the clutches of his gassy bro’s denim butt, directly living in person that thin line between Fart Heaven and Fart Hell.

A final sigh of relief, followed by a louder toot and a chuckle.   “Sorry, bud.” Dave muttered, hoping that his plan worked.

Indeed, Dana didn’t hear a thing. She hung up and left the room, her footsteps slowly turning into a far, muffled sound, until silence announced that the duo was now free to get the heck out of there, especially considering how they were almost both choking on farts.

Tim forgot what fresh, non-fart air felt like in his nostrils and so took a deep, refreshing breath the moment he stepped out of that gas closet. Ironically, Dave did the same, maybe even wondering how would Tim even endure something as overwhelming as his farts, but he didn’t really mind anyway. Despite everything, that was oddly hilarious, as the two stared at each other and then bursted into a laughter.

“Now let’s get out of here…” the farter suggested.

But before the two could even walk towards the window, Dana showed up again in her own room. She didn’t even startle.

“What are you two doing here?” she asked, sounding more like an inquisitive mom than an angry girlfriend. She was fairly mature, after all. “I don’t know what you Dumb and Dumber are up to, but I swear if you–”

“I heard the news, Dana. We were just outside your window…” Dave explained, slightly tweaking the truth. “We wanted to play a stupid scary prank but then I heard it, while you were on the phone you know…”

Dana shook her head and laughed a bit. She hugged her boyfriend and kissed him.

“Yes! I got the job!” she giggled. “Sorry I’ve been so cold lately. The job interview made me so nervous…”

“It’s fine, Dana. You’ve always been stone-cold anyway!” Dave joked, earning a playful slap on his chest by his girlfriend.

“Yes, that’s a very import–wait what’s that smell?” the girl asked, sniffling loudly the air around him.

Tim’s heart almost stopped while Dave did his best to not just laugh like an immature prankster. His hair, clothes, skin, were completely “soaked” in his gassy bro’s gas, so naturally he’d himself smell like flatulence.

“Never mind. It must be you, Dave. He farts like crazy when he’s nervous, Tim, I swear.” she said, disgusted but slightly amused as well.

“Ow… it’s part of my charm, babe.” Dave replied, using what he would have considered an irresistible flirty tone of voice, which was super awkward instead.

“And yeah. Tim’s very aware of my skills, right?” he joked, winking at him, like the big teasing bastard he’s always been since he found out about his fart kink.

Tim just shrugged, faking a disgusted look, his heart racing fast, knowing that all he had to do after that was take the biggest shower in the hope that such unbearable stench didn’t fuse with the atoms in his body.

“Well, it’s gonna be a wild ride!” Dana exulted, happy about her new job offer.

“How about a round of beers to celebrate?” Tim suggested. “It’s on me, no worries.”

“Great idea, but I’m paying. I got the job, you dumb-dumbs get to drink!” Dana replied. She was in a very good mood.

“It’s fine, Dana! It’s the least we can do after-“ but Dave interrupted him.

“Come on Tim, stop living in outdated gender roles and let the pretty girl buy you a drink.” he said, faking a serious tone.

The girlfriend simply rolled her eyes and left the room “Just… meet me downstairs when you’re done saving the world, ok?”

As Dana was nowhere in sight, Dave simply turned to Tim and let another huge, long one rip.

“Shhh. Just tying up some loose ends here.” he said, shushing the gay friend, blasting what was left of his gas out.

“Are you finish-“ “Not yet” he simply said, as if he was making sure no particle of gas was left behind.

With one high pitched final note that was met with some immature laughter, Dave sighed in relief.

“With that said” he chuckled “You might want to take a shower.”

Tim simply nodded with an unamused expression.

“Oh, and you might want to leave the other closet you’ve been hiding.”

That was out of nowhere.

“No pressure bro, just know that we’re all always more than happy to have a beer with you.”

“Thanks Da-“

“Despite your bigoted views on gender roles of course.”

“I’m going to punch you now.”

The duo then headed downstairs and no one got punched luckily.

Tim thought about his friend’s words and how it was probably time to leave that metaphorical stuffy closet soon or later, not that he felt forced or anything.

Dana’s closet, however, that’s probably the only one he enjoyed being trapped into…

End of Episode 9

[triptuckers]

The Necklace - Captain Rex

Request: no Pairing: Captain Rex x jedi!reader Summary: Five times you and Rex have given each other your necklace, and the one time you wear it for the last time Warnings: major character death!!, angst, mentions of serious injuries, burning, blood, bruises Word count: 3.2K A/N: I always wonder why do I do this to myself .. anyway, my brain made me write this and put it out there. I deeply apologise for this feel free to send me ur therapy bills TAG LIST (all star wars fics): @parker-natasha​ @romanoffstarkovs​ @just-deka​

One.

It’s quiet in the Temple. You have to admit it’s rarely crowded in the halls. The Temple is quite a large building, and not nearly enough Jedi to fill it. And even if there were, at least half would be off fighting the war.

You’re grateful for the time you get to spend at the Temple. The long hallways always calm you down. No matter how long you had been away, it always felt good to come home to the Temple where you’d grown up.

It’s the place where you learned the ways of the force, where you’d spent hours reading everything you could find on the Jedi and their ways. You’d meditated in the gardens countless of times, and you’d found your family.

But most importantly, you met Rex.

He knew just as well as everyone else attachment was against the Jedi code. Still, you were pulled to one another by some sort of feeling you couldn’t explain. It made you want to spend every moment you got with him.

As your relationship blossomed, you knew you had to talk about the restrictions. You didn’t like it, but there were just some rules you had to follow, for both yours and Rex’ sake.

It didn’t stop you from occasionally sending a flirtatious wink his way, if only to watch his cheeks flush as he tried to remain focused on his tasks.

You were desperate for some kind of affection outside the safe walls of your quarters. When you were on a planet near the Outer Rim, and you waited as they refuelled your ship, you took the opportunity to check out the local market.

You found a beautiful, handcrafted silver necklace, and you just couldn’t leave it behind. When you got back to Coruscant, you showed the necklace to Rex, and you noticed how much he loved it.

When you wanted to give the necklace to him, he declined, saying it looked too good on you, that he couldn’t take it from you. So, you made a promise. The one wearing the necklace would give it to the one who wasn’t wearing it whenever they saw them, with the promise they’d be there to wear it again next time you’d meet.

Your walk around the Temple takes you through the silent halls. You don’t really notice where you’re going, your mind wandering off to other places. You turn a corner and see a door opening in the distance.

A few Jedi, Anakin, Ahsoka, Obi-Wan, Mace and Yoda exit the room, followed by Rex and Cody. You smile at them and they all greet you as they go their separate ways.

Rex is deep in conversation with Obi-Wan, Anakin, and Cody, but briefly stops when you pass him. He takes the necklace off and gives it to you with a smile. You return the smile as you put it on, and Rex continues his conversation with the others while you continue your walk, the necklace bouncing against your chest with every step you take.

Two.

You’ve done it a thousand times before, but landing near a battle is still something that could get your anxiety up. That creeping fear that a well aimed blaster shot could take out your engines and send you to the ground a lot faster than you intended, would never ease.

You hold on tight as the ship starts its landing.

The 501st and the 212th were already on the scene, fighting for their lives. Everyone had thought that they would manage, but that was before the Separatists sent in reinforcements. Because you and your men were closest, you received an urgent comm from Anakin and didn’t hesitate before gathering all of your men and heading towards their position.

Once you’ve landed and everyone has left the ship, you start giving out orders. Even though you’re not near the heat of the battle, you have to yell to be heard over the shouts and blaster shots from others.

You send your men to the frontlines while you take your second in command to look for the other generals and commanders.

As you’re running through the chaos, you’re contacting Anakin. Luckily, he responds almost immediately.

‘We saw your ship!’ he says loudly. ‘We’re on the right side, near the trees!’

‘Copy!’ you shout in your comm and you wave your second din command over, making for the tree line in the distance. You glance at the troopers as you’re running, trying to find Rex. He might be next to Anakin and Ahsoka, waiting for you to arrive. But you know Rex, and it’s also very possible he’s in the front lines.

It takes shorter than you expected to cross the battlefield. When you make it to the trees, you quickly spot your fellow Jedi, and Rex and Cody along with them.   Ahsoka is the first to notice you, and she waves at you as you’re running toward them.

You come to a halt in front of them, panting.

‘Thanks for coming so quickly.’ says Obi-Wan.

‘Yeah.’ you manage to say in between breaths. ‘What’s our status?’ you ask as you take off your necklace and blindly hand it to Rex, who is standing next to you.

‘We’re suffering a lot of casualties.’ says Ahsoka, not taking notice in you giving Rex the necklace.

‘You and your men are much needed.’ says Rex, and you turn to look at him. ‘We’re severely outnumbered.’ he says as he puts on the necklace.

‘We have a plan, though.’ says Anakin, and he starts explaining it.

Three.

It takes you a while to figure out what caused you to suddenly wake. You didn’t have any plans or meetings you had to attend to today, and you had planned on a relaxed morning of just staying in bed.

Your legs are tangled with Rex’, and one of his arms is swung across your stomach. Mornings like these are rare, and you wish you could stay like this forever.

No war, no pain or suffering, no Separatist this or Jedi business that. Just you and Rex, holding each other.

Occasionally, you hear soft snores coming from his side of the bed. You raise your hand to softly run it over his back. It’s only then, that you realise it isn’t his snores that woke you.

You comm is beeping furiously on the bedside table.

For one of the first times, you’re seriously considering just ignoring it. You didn’t have any plans today, you even declined Ahsoka’s offer of a training session, stating you needed your rest now that you didn’t have any formalities to attend. And with rest you meant staying in bed with Rex.

But what if it’s important? Says an annoying little voice in the back of your head.

You groan softly, reaching out to try and get a hold of your comm. You can’t reach it, but you also don’t dare to shift, scared of waking Rex. So instead, you use the Force and let your comm device land in the palm of your hand.

‘Yea?’ you say. It’s Anakin who answers.

‘Hey, Y/N, do you think you’ve got time to go over some maps with me? I’m assigned to traveling with Senator Amidala, she needs to go settle another trade incident. It doesn’t seem like a big deal, but these maps sure do.’ he says.

‘Can’t Padmé go over those maps with you if she’s the going to the planet in the first place?’ you ask, not wanting to leave your comfortable and warm bed.

‘She’s on Naboo. I’m supposed to pick her up on the way there.’ answers Anakin.

‘Okay, fine. I’ll come see you at your quarters in a few minutes.’ you say.

‘Thanks!’ says Anakin.

You sigh and throw the comm device on the bed. You look to your side and see Rex is still asleep. It makes you chuckle. You could probably drop a bomb on the building, and the sound just wouldn’t wake him up.

You slowly untangle your legs from his and lift his arm so you can get up. You silently get dressed before hovering over his body.

Kisses are pressed to his cheeks, nose and forehead. Rex only shifts a bit, but doesn’t wake up. You take the necklace off and carefully place it around his neck. With one last kiss, you leave your quarters and head for Anakin’s.

Four.

You exhale sharply when you land on your back.

‘And that-’ says Ahsoka’s voice above you. ‘Is how you take someone out when you don’t have your lightsaber on you.’

A small round of applause comes from the younglings you’re teaching. Originally, they were Ahsoka’s class but she asked you to join her in some examples, and you agreed. Though she hadn’t told you just how many times she was going to throw you on the ground.

‘Impressive.’ you say as you take a hold of Ahsoka’s extended hand and allow her to pull you to your feet.

‘All right kids.’ you say to the small group of younglings in front of you. ‘You’ve seen how it works now. Pair up with someone else and go try it out yourselves.’

They all excitedly pair up and get to work. You smile as you watch them struggle, thinking back to your own training sessions as a youngling.

‘I’m pretty sure we weren’t that small when we were younglings.’ you say to Ahsoka. ‘You were.’ she says, making you raise your eyebrows at her. ‘I’m taller than you.’ you protest, making her laugh out loud.

You watch the younglings for a while, correcting them every now and then. They’re very good for kids their age, and you can tell they’re fast learnings. You’re wondering if one of them might become your padawan, and about all the things you could teach them.

Just as Ahsoka tells everyone to take a break while she explains the next useful movement, the door to the training hall opens.

The clones didn’t train much in the Temple’s halls, but they did on the occasion theirs was too crowded. Or if they had been near the Temple and didn’t feel like traveling far.

A couple of the 501st have entered the room, and you scan their faces for Rex. He’s the last one to enter and you smile at him as he makes his way toward you. When he’s almost reached you, he takes off the necklace.

Just as he hands it to you, one of the younglings gasps loudly.

‘You’re Captain Rex of the 501st!’ he says.

Rex looks at him and nods. ‘That’s right kid. Keep up your training and I might see you out on the front some day.’ he says and the younglings look up at him in awe.

You chuckle at their reaction and shoot Rex a wink. He smiles at you, waves at Ahsoka, and then returns to his brothers to start their training session.

Five.

You don’t get a lot of free time nowadays. So when you do, you use it well. You’re currently in the gardens, meditating.

When you were younger, you didn’t like meditating very much. You would much rather be working on your lightsaber skills, than sitting in one spot of hours.

But as you got older, you realised the importance of connecting with the Force, and you started to appreciate alone time more.

Luckily, the gardens weren’t very crowded when you arrived. You took place in your favourite spot, closed your eyes and slowed your breathing.

After a while, you noticed other people’s presences in the force fading away one by one. Until you could feel no one else’s presence, and it was just you.

You’re unaware how much time has passed, when you sense a familiar presence coming closer.

You smile, but keep your legs crossed and your eyes closed. You hear footsteps coming closer, until they come to a stop right next to you.

There must be no one else watching, because you feel how Rex presses a kiss to your cheek. You then feel something cold be placed carefully around your neck. You smile again and after another kiss to your cheek, Rex leaves again, and you continue your meditation.

Six.

This war had taken too much from too many people. Everyone was tired of it, and everyone just wanted it to end. You were tired, too. You’d seen too many of your friends die, and too many innocent people you couldn’t save.

You weren’t a soldier. You’re a peacekeeper. But you can’t remember the last time you actually referred to yourself as one, let alone feel like it.

Still, the war raged on, like a hot fire turning everything in its path into ashes, leaving nothing but grief and sorrow behind. The war was unforgiving, merciless, swallowing everyone and everything in its path.

You couldn't stand by and watch anymore. Especially when all the fighting got too close for your taste.

You'd been sent to a planet you visited a lot when you were a child. It was a peaceful, neutral planet. Until the Separatists came to claim it. The planet's original inhabitants didn't have the proper training or recourses to fight, so the Republic sent you and your men there.

When you got to the planet it was nothing but chaos. The Separatists had wanted to take control of the planet for its strategic location. It seems they would do anything to get their hands on it.

Including wiping out an entire race of people.

You couldn't let that happen. You had been right there to see so many people get injured or killed because of the Separatists. You wouldn't stand by and watch yet another peaceful planet be taken.

The Separatists were using a new kind of droid, one that could follow orders all at once because of one single command center. You'd sent your men to keep fighting on the front lines, and to protect the people.

You would disarm the command center, so their commands couldn't get to the droids on the battlefield.

But you weren't an expert on shutting down such a massive command center on your own. While thinking back to all the happy memories you made in the past when you visited this planet, the only option you could think of was to blow up the entire command center.

You didn't have any explosives on you, so you decided to fling both of your lightsabers into the power generator. At the time, you didn't even know if it would work. Turns out it did. Maybe it worked a little too well.

The blast was enormous. You successfully blew up the entire command center, and your men could pick the droids off like target practice.

But when your second in command didn't hear back from you, he sent a few men to go and look for you.

They found you near the center of the blast, severely injured and barely alive.

They rush you back to the ship and on the way back to Coruscant, while the medical droids aboard the ship do the best they can. But they're losing you, and it's unwise to move you at this point, so they keep you aboard the ship.

Having heard of your state, both Anakin and Ahsoka rushed to the ship you're on in the hangar.

They watch anxiously as the medial droids fuss over you. Ahsoka can see your body is as good as lost, but she can still sense your presence in the Force. It's all she can hold on to.

Meanwhile, Anakin is trying to get a hold of Rex. He'd been suspecting something was going on between you and his captain. He figured if anyone needed to be there, it's Rex.

'Yes?' says Rex when he finally answers his comm.

'Rex, you need to get here.' says Anakin, voice slightly breaking as he talks. He was so terrified to lose you.

'Everything alright, sir?' says Rex.

'It's Y/N.' says Anakin.

Rex is quiet for a while.

'Rex?' says Anakin.

'Where is she?' asks Rex, and they can all hear how he tries to keep his voice steady.

'On the ship in the hangar. They just arrived but they can't move her.' says Anakin.

'I'm on my way.' says Rex.

Anakin knew for a fact Rex was nowhere near the hangar, but he arrives there in mere minutes. He must have ran all the way here.

Ahsoka stops Rex before he can enter the room you're in. Rex is breathing heavily, pressing a hand to his side which is aching from the sprinting.

'Rex.' says Ahsoka softly. 'She's not-'

But Rex doesn't let her finish, he pushes her aside and enters the room.

He nearly breaks at the sight of you. Rex blindly reaches for something to steady him as he stumbles on his feet, and Anakin catches his arm.

Rex' eyes fill with tears as he looks at you.

This is not how he remembers you. This is not how you looked when you cheerfully waved him goodbye as your ship took off.

The robes you always wear are covered in dust and ashes. There's burn marks all over them. On some places, the fabric of the robes was completely gone, showing the burn wounds on your skin.

The side of your head is crusty with a mixture of dried blood and dirt. One side of your body is littered in bruises, from where you must have hit a wall.

'There was a blast.' mumbles Anakin. 'She blew up the generator and disarmed all of the droids. She saved an entire planet from the Separatists.'

Rex presses a hand to his mouth and mumbles something in Mando'a which Anakin doesn't understand.

He slowly approaches the bed, one hand reaching out to hold yours. His other hand is clutched around the necklace he wears.

This wasn't happening. You still had to win the war, get your own apartment for the two of you, tell war stories to new friends. This couldn't be the end of your story. This couldn't be his last memory of you.

Rex lets go of your hand to stroke your cheek.

Anakin and Ahsoka leave the room, giving Rex a moment of privacy.

'Wake up, mesh'la.' says Rex softly, voice breaking at almost every word he says. 'Wake up so I can give you the necklace. You promised you'd always be there to take it from me when we'd see each other.'

And you do wear the necklace one more time. Rex slid it around your neck, and buried it along with your body.

And every battle he fights in the future, he does in the name of his beloved General Y/L/N. There was no reason to keep it a secret any more. He'd dedicate every single fight to you. He owed you that much. He kept your memory alive.

Every night, his heart aches because of the absence of your shared necklace. The absence of your love, and your promise to always be there.

A/N: If you want to request something, make sure to read my house rules Here’s the list of characters I write for. Everything that I have written can be found on my masterlist. Please don’t repost my work, as I spend much time and effort on it!! Thank you for reading! Much love, Marit