#He listens to metal? I’m going MENTAL over him

[jaxsontrimaldi]

Guys who wants to be my alternative vampire boyfriend that’s also rich and spoils me

[steddiehyperfixation]

steve harrington's phone number

@steddiebingo prompt: van | 1.7k words | rated T

“Stupid- useless piece of shit!” Eddie barely manages to pull his coughing, spluttering van over to the side of the road before it chokes to a stop with a dying wheeze. “Fucking drama queen.” He gets out and gives the side of the van a good kick, chastizing it for its very loud and inconvenient death. 

Just his luck it would decide to break down here, on a nothing stretch of road several miles outside of town. Too far to walk but not all that long of a drive if his stupid car could’ve just toughed it out a little while longer. “You really couldn’t have held on for like ten more minutes?” he grumbles, kicking the van again. The van, of course, does not answer and remains quite dead. Eddie mutters a few more curses and pulls his jacket tighter around himself against the late November chill as he wanders around to the front of the car to pop the hood. 

It’s an entirely useless gesture, popping the hood. Even before he opens it he knows he’s still not going to have a single clue what’s broken or how to fix it. The inner workings of a car are utterly foreign to him, an alien language of metal and grease that he stupidly never cared to learn. He stares blankly at the incomprehensible jumble of machinery before him, cursing himself for all those times he’d evaded and complained his way out of Wayne’s attempts to teach him how to do his own auto repairs. His uncle’s boring handyman lessons would’ve really come in handy right now, if only he’d had the foresight to listen. 

With a huffed out sigh, Eddie slams the hood back down. He’s going to have to call someone.

Thankfully he can see a roadside payphone not too far off in the distance, about half a mile out maybe. He rummages through his pockets and paws around the front seat of the van for any spare change he could use. He’d just blown through most of the money he had on him at a record store in Indy, but he manages to scrounge up enough coins for one call. Just one. So he has to choose wisely. He starts his trudge to the payphone while he runs through a mental list of options, feeling increasingly frustrated and hopeless as he crosses each of them off one by one. 

A tow truck is too expensive. His uncle is at work. Half his friends can’t drive, and not a single one of them knows anything about cars anyways so they wouldn’t be much help beyond a ride home (and he’d really rather not have to just leave his van on the side of the road). He needs someone who’s free, can drive, and has enough of a working knowledge of cars to possibly be able to give his van enough of a second wind to make it home. 

Which is how he finds himself in a dingy little phone booth punching in Steve Harrington’s number - a number he’s never called before yet somehow memorized, recalling it clearly in his mind’s eye in the scrawl of Steve’s handwriting on notebook paper. 

“Harrington residence, Steve speaking,” Steve’s voice comes through the line, automatic and rehearsed.

“Okay, I’ll make fun of that weirdly formal greeting later,” Eddie decides, “but right now, uh- man, I really hate to do this, but do you happen to know anything about fixing cars?”

“Eddie, hey,” Steve sounds almost startled to hear from him. “Um, yeah, I mean, I’m no expert or anything, but I know enough to get by. Why?” 

“My van just broke down on my way back from the city and I was hoping you might be willing to do me a huge huge favor and come out here and see if you can help me get her started again.” Eddie puts all the desperation he can into his voice, which really isn’t hard. His distress is 100% genuine. “Please? I’m desperate here, Harrington. I’d be forever in your debt, I’ll-” 

“Okay,” Steve says before Eddie can start bargaining. So simply, so easily. He really wasn’t expecting it to be that easy.

“Okay?” 

“Yeah, okay. I’ll help you. Where are you?”  

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief. “Oh thank god- thank you. Thank you thank you thank you. I owe you my life, seriously-” 

“Munson,” Steve cuts him off again, repeating his question, “where are you?” 

“Right, yeah.” Eddie gives his best approximation of where he is and Steve promises to be there as soon as he can before hanging up. Feeling a little bit lighter now, Eddie treks back to wait by his van.

The sun has just dipped below the horizon, streaking the sky with pink and gold, when Steve’s BMW pulls up and he steps out of the car bathed in the orange glow of sunset, looking every bit the rescuing angel. A dashing hero straight out of a fairytale; Eddie can almost picture him with a sword in his hands instead of a toolbox, a noble steed behind him instead of a car. 

He expresses only a satirized version of that sentiment, clasping his hands over his heart and gasping theatrically in greeting, “Harrington, my hero!” And he grins as Steve rolls his eyes in response. 

“Hi, Eddie.” Steve approaches, plunks his toolbox on the front of the van and leans against it. “You know, I’m surprised you called me. It didn’t seem like you were ever going to.” 

Eddie shrugs, hands in his pockets. “Yeah, I just- I couldn’t think of anyone else who’d be able to help me. I’m sorry if me calling you, like, freaked you out for a second there.” 

Steve’s eyes narrow and his head tilts like a confused puppy. “Why would you calling freak me out?” 

“Well, I mean, you only gave me your number in case something happened with the kids, right?” Eddie states. “So, I didn’t mean to make you worried at first that there might’ve been, like, a Dustin emergency or something.” 

“Oh…” A number of emotions flicker across Steve’s face as he seems to come to some sort of realization, and his expression ultimately settles on vaguely amused. “Right, yeah. Totally.” 

Now Eddie’s the one who’s confused, feeling like he’s missed a punchline. “Is that…not why you gave me your number?” It’s not like it had actually been explicitly stated, but they’d just been talking about the kids right before Steve had written his number down, so Eddie had just assumed that was the reason. 

“No, it-” Steve shakes his head and smiles, a little bit fond, a little bit like he’s still sharing some kind of inside joke with himself. “It’s not important right now,” he decides. “Let’s just figure out your van first, alright? What was going on with it before it broke down?” 

“Well, I don't actually know,” Eddie says, “but she was being very loud and dramatic about it.” 

“Huh, I’ve heard of pets developing similar personalities to their owners but I’ve never heard of cars doing it.” 

“Oh shut up.” 

Steve grins, pushing himself off the front of the car so he can open the hood and take a look. He immediately starts to tinker around with some stuff. Eddie has absolutely no idea what he’s doing, but he sure looks good doing it. There’s a cold breeze in the air, getting colder by the minute with the slowly darkening sky, but something about watching Steve’s arms as he works a wrench into the machinery has Eddie feeling strangely warm. 

Steve’s talking, probably trying to explain what he’s doing or what’s wrong with the van, though Eddie’s not catching a word of it. He couldn’t pay attention even if he tried, and not just because he’s distracted by Steve’s arms. The other half of his mind is still stubbornly stuck on the whole thing about Steve’s number, racking his brain trying to figure out why the hell else he would’ve given it to him. 

He spends way too long replaying that moment, and all their previous and subsequent interactions, over and over again in his head before his memory finally starts to give notice to all Steve’s lingering glances, subtle once-overs, and suggestive smirks.

“Holy shit, you were flirting with me!” Eddie blurts out the realization as soon as it hits him. “When you gave me your number - you were trying to hit on me!”

Steve, who had been interrupted mid sentence, barks out a laugh. “Now he gets it,” he teases as he glances over at Eddie. “You know, I couldn't figure you out for a while. All this time you never called but would still say hi to me when I picked the kids up from Hellfire, I figured it was some sort of soft rejection. But you really were just completely oblivious, huh?” 

“No yeah, I just have fucking rocks for brains apparently,” Eddie says, shaking his head self-deprecatingly as he rushes to reassure him, “I was definitely not rejecting you. Definitely, definitely not. Believe me, if I’d’ve known- I would’ve called so fast, man. I mean, trust me, your phone would’ve never stopped ringing.” 

“Good to know.” Steve smiles, his eyes so golden and warm in the dusk it almost seems as if the sun is on its way back up. He returns his attention to the van, just for half a second to give the machinery one last tweak, and then he straightens and closes the hood, wiping the car grease from his hands off on his jeans as he announces, “Well, your car should start now, if you wanna test it out and make sure. And then we can, uh, continue this conversation?” 

Eddie nods, hops back in the van, and turns his key in the ignition. It rumbles to life, and he lets out a laugh like a cheer. “You’re a goddamn miracle worker, Stevie!” he shouts.

“Glad I could help,” Steve calls back proudly. 

Eddie revels in the sound of his not-dead van for a moment longer before he takes a deep breath, turns off the engine, and jumps out to stand in front of Steve again. “So.” 

“So.” 

There’s a brief beat of buzzing silence. Eddie finds he doesn’t have all that much left to say, and he’s feeling far too giddy right now to be able to stand through some sappy discussion about how they feel about each other when it’s entirely unnecessary. He suggests instead, “Do you wanna just skip the conversation and go make out in the back of my van?” 

Steve grins at him. “Absolutely.” 

[pretend-theres-a-name-here]

Little thing I wrote while procrastinating writing part 5 of Hide Your Heart.

~~~~~~~~~~~

Steve Harrington who knows his kid brother is obsessed with some niche, up and coming metal band. Steve Harrington who groans and grumbles and carries on about having to drive him around to shows and listen to him nerding out but does it anyway. Steve Harrington who doesn’t really pay attention because the lights on the stage are too bright and drown out whoever’s playing. Steve Harrington who is currently wading through a crowd making their way to the door, going against the current and stumbling as he searches for the mop of hair he promised to get home.

“Henderson!” He cups his hands around his mouth, “Where is that kid?” 

He finds himself pushed to the outskirts of the mass of bodies, plastered to a wall but he still pitches forward when a particularly rowdy young woman rams into him. He thinks he’s going to go all the way to the floor when a hand snags his elbow, holding him up. He turns to rush out an apology, a few thanks for the save, but stops before he can get the words out because holy shit the guy is gorgeous.

And Steve—well Steve has been doing some thinking about himself. About how most guys don’t have to mentally prepare themselves to go into the locker room after pe class. About how most guys don’t let their friends paint their nails pretty colors. Robin told him that there was this thing called being bisexual and he thought some things were clicking into place. So he’s gotten used to going out and noticing more than just girls, it’s not uncommon, but this guy is hot, like really hot. 

He’s dressed in leather pants and a cut off tank top that hangs around his sides. Tattoos, more doodles than actual designs, on full display for the world to see, running up his arms and peeking out from his ribs. His hair is in curly tangles, sweat sticking it to his forehead but he’s grinning. He has a jacket, leather, in his other hand. 

He’s also still holding on to Steve’s arm. Warm rings press into the inside of his elbow as he rights himself.

“First time?” The man asks.

“Y-yeah.” Steve gets out, “I’m supposed to be here with my brother, he’s a huge fan of some band playing here. Molded Coffin or something.”

The guy’s face breaks out into a full on smile, humor sparking in his eyes but Steve doesn’t know if what he said was that funny.

“Yeah? Where’s he at?” The guy still hasn’t let go, leading Steve away from the crowd and further into the room where there were less people.

“I’m actually looking for him now. Left him alone for five minutes to get a drink and he disappears.”

“You need help? These things can get a little crazy.” The man offers.

“You do this a lot?” Steve asks, immediately mentally face palming. He practically asked the guy if he came here often, he was going to think he was flirting. Was he?

The man just smiled, “You could say that. Eddie.” He finally released Steve’s arm in favor of holding out his hand. They shook hands and Steve told the man—Eddie—his name.

They talked for a while, Eddie got them drinks and Steve told himself that Dustin was old enough to behave himself for 15 minutes. Eddie kept an arm around his shoulders the whole time, shielding him from the chaos of the dwindling crowd was his excuse. Steve would have told him he didn’t need an excuse if that didn’t seem too forward.

 Eddie was just asking for his number when someone behind them called, “Ed! Quite flirting and get your ass over here! You’re helping us tear down this time!”

Eddie sighed, “Duty calls.” He scribbled something on to a napkin, patting it against Steve’s chest and backing away, “I’ll be waiting for yours, sweetheart.”

And Steve was either drunk or insane because he actually laughed at that. Laughed again when he looked at the napkin and saw numbers almost unreadable, a winking face below them.

“Steve! There you are! I’ve been looking all over for you—What’s that?” Dustin’s tone went from annoyed to prying as soon as he saw the napkin.

“None of your business.” He stuffed the napkin in his pocket, “Are you ready to go or what, kid, I’ve been waiting forever.” He poked Dustin’s shoulder until he got moving and then he poked it again when Dustin scowled at him.

In the car he was once again subjected to Dustin’s after show rant about how cool it was. The guitarist apparently broke two strings and flipped the crowd off with his bloody fingers—which they went wild for, which Dustin screeched along with them for. They played a new song, but it all sounded the same to Steve. That was as much as he heard, though, his mind kept wandering back to the man after the show. To the number in his pocket. He debated putting it to use, was the next day too soon? How long was too long until Eddie forgot about him? A guy like that probably had a mountain of napkins with numbers thrown at him every day. He decided to get over himself and call late the next day. 

“Hi, this is Steve.” He suddenly felt very silly for calling but it was too late now.

“Steve, pretty boy from the show last night Steve?” And just like that he forgot why he hesitated to call.

“That would be me.” He cringed, “No, wait, that sounds so self centered.”

“Not self centered if it’s a compliment.” Eddie argued.

“If you say so.”

They talked, got 10 whole minutes of random conversations Steve never wanted to end before Eddie cursed.

“I’m sorry, I promised my uncle I’d help at the shop.” He muttered, “I’m gonna be late.”

“That’s fine, you should go help him.”

“I’ll call you later?” Eddie asked, and if Steve didn’t know any better he’d say it sounded hopeful.

“I’ll be here later.” He responded. 

They called all the time after that, whenever they were both free. They even met up in person, it was just to the park because Eddie found out Steve had never fed ducks before, but it ended with another day scheduled to spend together and then another and then a month had passed and he could say they were officially dating. It was the best time Steve had had in a long time and he really didn’t want it to end. The realization came to him one night, after another day with Eddie, and it wasn’t as shocking as he thought it would be. It was a Friday night, Eddie was busy most Saturdays—something about going to shows with the guys—so a lot of their slow nights were Fridays. They were watching TV on the couch in Eddie’s trailer, which was quickly becoming Steve’s favorite place, when he found himself watching the way Eddie laughed and even jumped at whatever horror movie was on more than he was watching the movie itself. 

“I love you.” He whispered. 

Eddie’s head whipped around, eyes wide, movie forgotten, “I love you too!” And then Steve couldn’t be blamed for not watching the movie anymore when he was practically tackled to the couch, laughing the whole way down.

It was a month after that night that he was steeling himself outside of his front door.

“It’ll be fine.” He said to himself, “They’re going to love you.” He said to Eddie who was gripping his hand.

“It’ll be fine.” Eddie agreed and he almost sounded convinced.

Today was the one day that everyone could gather at Steve’s. The whole party had shown up, everyone he had folded into his makeshift family was in his living room waiting for him to get back with the new partner he told them he was introducing. Today was the day they decided to tell people about them.

Steve pushed the door open, taking a deep breath before leading Eddie to the living room. All of his friends sat scattered around the room. On the couch and floor and coffee table. He could do this.

“Uh. Hey.” He cleared his throat, “I’m back.” All eyes snapped to him, eager to know who this mystery person was.

Eddie tried for an awkward wave but their hands were still connected so they just shook between them.

The silence was getting unbearable until finally Robin shot up from the floor and tackled him in a hug, subsequently dragging Eddie along into it.

“I’m so happy for you, dingus.” She laughed as she pulled away, “Robin.” She stuck her hand out to Eddie who visibly relaxed, “Best friend, platonic soulmate, hurt him and I swear to god you’ll wake up with no kneecaps.”

“Eddie.” Eddie squeaked, shaking her hand hastily.

“Bobbin.” Steve only called her that when she was being particularly over the top because it annoyed her to no end and she knew this, “Tone it down, would you?”

The rest of the group chorused their hellos and introductions and a weight lifted off of Steve’s shoulders at the sight of all of his friends accepting the news without comment. Until he realized there was only one person who hadn’t spoken a word, standing in the middle of the room with a strange look on his face.

“Dustin?” Steve prompted, voice strained.

“Oh my God.” Dustin mumbles in disbelief.

“Dustin…” Steve shot him a warning glance, “If you’ve got a problem with it—”

But Dustin ignores him, he’s staring at Eddie in shock, “Oh my God!” He practically shouts, coming to life to jump and screech, “That’s—! You’re—! You’re Eddie Munson!” 

Eddie grins, seemingly unfazed by this bizarre reaction to meeting your brother’s boyfriend, “I take it you’re a fan?”

“A fan of what?” Steve asks, pulling his hand out of Eddie’s to turn to him face to face.

At the same time, Dustin starts babbling hysterically, “A fan? Only the biggest CC fan in all of Hawkins! I have every song on vinyl, like three posters and—oh my god this is so embarrassing. Eddie Munson is in my house and I’m telling him I have his face on my wall.” 

He keeps talking but it’s more to himself than anyone else in the room so Steve raises an eyebrow at Eddie, “What’s he talking about? Why are you on posters and why does he have them?”

Eddie, for the first time since Steve has known him, looks almost sheepish, “Oh…I guess I’m kind of, maybe the frontman of Corroded Coffin.” He might be blushing.

“You’re that nerd Dustin’s always going on about?!” Steve exclaims.

[kingdom-of-sins]

Charles Leclerc x Norris!Reader

Charles has a huge crush on Lando's sister and has been meaning to talk to her, but Lando might have misunderstood the situation

The paddock is buzzing with activity, and as you walk alongside your brother, Lando Norris, you can't help but notice the excited energy that always fills the air on race weekends. Lando is chatting animatedly about his qualifying session, but you’re only half-listening, your attention drifting as you scan the familiar faces around you.

And then you spot him—Charles Leclerc. He’s standing a few meters away, his usually composed demeanor slipping as he spots you in the crowd. His eyes widen slightly, and he seems to freeze for a moment, like a deer caught in headlights. You can’t help but smile to yourself. You’ve noticed him acting a little strange around you lately, like he’s always trying to catch your eye or find excuses to talk to you. It’s endearing, really.

Lando, oblivious to the fact that Charles’ gaze is glued to you, keeps rambling on until he finally notices Charles staring in your direction. A strange look crosses Lando’s face, a mix of confusion and something almost like… concern?

“Uh, what’s up with Charles?” Lando mutters, more to himself than to you. Before you can respond, Charles starts walking over, a determined look on his face as if he’s made up his mind about something.

“Oh no,” Lando breathes out, eyes widening in horror. “I think—oh God, I think he’s into me.”

You blink at your brother, completely caught off guard. “What?”

“I’ve been noticing it for a while now!” Lando hisses, pulling you slightly behind a stack of tires like you’re on some kind of secret mission. “He’s always around, and he keeps looking at me like—like that!” Lando points an accusing finger at Charles, who is now even closer and definitely looking more at you than your brother.

You bite back a laugh, starting to piece together what’s really going on, but Lando is too busy panicking to notice.

“He’s coming over!” Lando whispers frantically. “Quick, distract him while I hide!”

Before you can say anything, Lando ducks behind a conveniently placed stack of equipment, leaving you standing there, facing a rapidly approaching Charles. You barely have time to process Lando’s escape before Charles is right in front of you, looking slightly out of breath and adorably flustered.

“Hi!” he says, a little too eagerly, and then immediately winces as if mentally kicking himself. “I mean, hey. How are you?”

You smile up at him, noting the way his eyes keep flickering around as if he’s looking for something—or someone. “I’m good, Charles. How are you?”

“I’m great, yeah, really great,” he stammers, running a hand through his hair in that nervous way you’ve come to recognize. He seems to relax a little now that he’s actually talking to you. “So, uh, where’s Lando?”

You have to bite the inside of your cheek to keep from laughing. Lando, who is currently crouched behind a set of tires, peeks out ever so slightly, his eyes wide with terror as he watches the exchange.

“Oh, Lando?” you say, pretending to look around. “I think he’s, uh, busy. But I’m here. You can talk to me.”

Charles brightens at that, his focus shifting entirely to you. “Really? I mean, yeah, of course! I’d love to talk to you. Actually, I’ve been meaning to—”

“Pssst!” comes a desperate hiss from behind the tires. Charles frowns in confusion, glancing around, and you quickly step closer to him, blocking his view of your brother’s less-than-stealthy hiding spot.

“So, Charles,” you interrupt, your voice a little louder than necessary, “what were you saying?”

Charles’ attention snaps back to you, and for a moment, he looks like he might faint from sheer joy. “Right, yes! I was saying that, um, I’ve been meaning to ask you—”

Suddenly, there’s a loud clatter as Lando, in his attempt to shift to a better hiding position, accidentally knocks over a metal tool cart. You wince, and Charles’ head whips around toward the sound, eyes narrowing in confusion.

“Is Lando… hiding?” Charles asks, genuinely puzzled.

You can’t hold back your laughter anymore, and it spills out before you can stop it. “He thinks you’re into him,” you manage to say between giggles.

Charles’ eyes widen in shock, his face turning bright red. “What? No! I—no, I’m not—I mean—” He stumbles over his words, looking like he might just run off in embarrassment. “I’m not interested in Lando. Not at all!”

Lando, who has now completely given up on hiding and is standing there with a sheepish grin, looks relieved but also slightly offended. “Wait, so you’re not into me?” he asks, half-joking, half-serious.

Charles groans, covering his face with his hands. “No, Lando, I’m not into you! I was trying to talk to your sister!” He gestures wildly at you, finally admitting what’s been obvious to you for weeks.

Lando blinks, and then a slow grin spreads across his face. “Ohhhh. Well, that makes more sense. Sorry, mate.” He claps Charles on the shoulder, clearly amused by the whole situation. “I’ll leave you two alone, then.” With a wink at you, Lando strolls off, leaving Charles standing there, still red-faced and flustered.

You smile up at him, finding his awkwardness incredibly endearing. “So, Charles, you were saying?”

Charles lets out a shaky laugh, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right, yes. I was just going to ask if you maybe wanted to—uh, I don’t know—get coffee or something? Sometime?”

His eyes are hopeful, and you can’t help but find his nervousness cute. “I’d love to,” you reply, your voice soft and sincere.

His face lights up at your response, a grin spreading across his features that makes your heart flutter. “Really? That’s great! I mean, that’s really great.”

As Charles stands there, looking at you with a mixture of relief and excitement, you can’t help but think that this might just be the start of something wonderful. Even if it did take Lando’s hilarious misunderstanding to get you here.

[staylovesmiley]

Mixtape: OH~ Chapter 1

₊˚⊹ᰔ Pairing; Han Jisung x Fem!reader

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Summary; Having a crush on your friend/roommate while trying to navigate college life is hard enough as it is, what happens after you find out the secret he has been hiding?

₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ ₊˚⊹ᰔ Warnings; college!au, female!reader, angst, smut, mentions of sexual harassment, alcohol and drug use, she/her pronouns used for reader, this is very loosely based off the overall themes/tones of the manga and anime “kiss him, not me!”~

“So…you gonna buy it?”

Soft chocolate brown eyes flit around the room, his honey skin flushed lightly caused by the cider he had been nursing throughout the night.

“Ya know what? Sure- gotta take down Minnie-opolis one property at a time.”

Cool condensation wets your palm due to the cold glass of cola you sip on while you listen to the chatter of your friends around you, not fully paying attention to anything but the man sitting so close beside you on the floor that your thighs are pressed together.

“Pay up then, baldie!”

“oh that was so uncalled for! I still have hair, ya know! It’s just buzzed.”

“Yeah, you look like a kiwi fruit.”

An exchange of flimsy paper money for a piece of card stock printed with the property being purchased is made across the coffee table and a moment later there is a shout that draws everyone’s attention, well….almost everyone.

“Ya! Don’t think I didn’t see that, you little cheat! That money is supposed to go in the bank not your personal stash!”

Playful argumentative yelling bounces off the walls of the small apartment belonging to two of your dearest friends, ending with a little metal playing piece being thrown and the sound of it making contact with its target as a loud shout sounds to your left.

“Okay okay someone else please be the banker?? We can’t trust this dog with such an important task, the power is going to his head.”

A tongue licks over a plump bottom lip after the bottle of cider is finally finished off, a soft clink sounding as it is placed gently on top of the table. God you wished it was your tongue instead.

“Uh- hellooo? Earth to Winnie??” You startle slightly, the sound of your nickname jolting you out of your trance as you turn to see Jeongin eyeing you expectantly from across the table, blush fanning over your cheeks as you realize they had been trying to get your attention for a while.”Sorry, Innie…think I’m starting to get sleepy.” You say, playing off your lack of attention with what you hope is a convincing yawn and a little stretch of your arms and shoulders. “You wanna call it a night? We do have class in the morning-“ Jisung whispers from your right, hand coming to rest on your thigh and the warmth you feel from the contact makes your brain feel fuzzy.

“Uh- yeah, maybe that’s a good idea. Sorry guys-“ You reply sheepishly as you move to rise from your spot on the floor. Your best friend is giving you a knowing look, smirking as he nudges your other best friend to his left and you mentally groan as Celine stifles a giggle and turns to whisper something to a confused looking Chris who’s eyes widen after she pulls away with his mouth making a little ‘o’ before he nods in understanding.

“Night guys! Gotta drive the lightweight home and pray he doesn’t have too bad of a hangover in the morning.” You tease, bumping your shoulder lightly against your roommates as he whines. “Ya- I’m not that much of a lightweight anymore!” He complains though you know it’s all for fun. The two of you say your goodbyes to your friends before heading out and down the wooden steps to your car parked a few spaces down from the exit of the old apartment complex.

Your roommate, Han Jisung, slips into the passenger seat as you enter on the drivers side. With your foot on the break you push the start button and the engine roars to life while your passenger princess eagerly turns his heated seat on max and cozies up against the leather material before buckling himself in. “We could have stayed a little longer if you had wanted to, ya know…I could have gone and crashed in Celine and Chris’s room for an hour or two to let you all finish the game-“ The man is quick to shake his head at your admission, giving you a warm smile as you start to back up from the parking space.

“Nah, you and I both know the second your head hit that pillow your ass wouldn’t be up until morning and you’d be late to class having to double back and grab your book bag from home.” You sigh in defeat, knowing full well he is right. “No fair- you know all my bad habits by now you shouldn’t be allowed to call me out like that.” He chuckles and leans his head against the cool pain of the window while looking over at you to watch as your focus lays on the road ahead. “No can do, my baby. It’s cause I know you so well that I have the privilege and duty to call you out.” You groan, hearing him call you his baby always makes you weak and really you shouldn’t let it go to your head too much as just last week he was calling Hyunjin in the same way as you both met in the quad before grabbing a quick lunch in between classes.

You had met Jisung two years ago, at the beginning of freshman year when your friend Celine had introduced you to her new boyfriend Chris and his slowly growing group of friends. The two of you had instantly hit it off and after years of feeling like an outcast despite your two best friends always being by your side you finally felt like you had found somewhere you belonged. Your crush on the slightly older man didn’t happen until after you had moved in together your second year of college as you had both been desperate to get out of the dormitories and into a proper apartment.

It was simple, really. The way he would brush his hand against your lower back gently as he passed by while you were cooking a meal or washing the dishes, giving you a soft smile and muttering an apology as you both maneuvered in your impossibly tiny kitchen. You always felt a blush creeping up your neck and to the tips of your ears when he gave you one of those smiles, big boba eyes looking so soft and apologetic you couldn’t help but step aside to make his exit a bit easier despite wishing he would touch you again in such a soft manner. Your feelings for him only deepened over time, though you would never admit it to him. You couldn’t admit it to him, despite Celine insisting that Chris said your roommate was obviously down bad for you as well. His evidence? The way he would always cut their producing sessions short the second your location showed that you had arrived home, the way he would light up at the mention of you or when he would be in the spare room of Chris and Celine’s apartment and both of you girls would pop in to say high after a girls day out, or how he hadn’t changed his phone’s lockscreen from the picture Jeongin had taken of the two of you in the living room of your then brand new apartment, boxes of your belongings stacked haphazardly around the surrounding space as you both held up your keys with cheesy grins that made your cheeks feel sore after it was taken.

You were not convinced, however, your bad brain telling you that no one as charming and charismatic as Han Jisung could ever feel more than a platonic connection with you.

Even now as you entered your small two bedroom apartment just outside of campus, dropping your keys in the bowl by the front door and slipping off your shoes as Jisung did the same with a slight stumble as even though he’d only had the one drink he was such a lightweight it still had an effect on him.

You made your way inside with your arm loosely around his waist under the guise of helping him steady himself. Jisung allowed it, head coming to rest on your shoulder as you made it to his door. “Winnie, baby?” He cooed softly, looking up at you with big brown eyes that always melted you into a puddle under their gaze. “Yes, Ji?” You said softly, pulling away to look at him just as soft. “Do you um-“ he started, looking between you and his door a few times giving you the impression he was going to ask you to stay the night in his room.

It wasn’t uncommon for the two of you to fall asleep in one of your beds, snuggled up on nights after a long study session or when either of you needed an extra bit of comfort after receiving a bad grade. You nodded to him, trying to not seem too eager as he looked down at his feet. “Do you want to stop by the cafe on campus before class tomorrow morning?” You paused, trying to hide the disappointment you were feeling with a smile and small nod. “Y-Yeah, Ji. That sounds like a good idea.” He looked back at you with a bright smile before opening his door. “Sweet! Okay- I’ll see you in the morning then.” You giggled a bit, nodding to him as you turned to head for your own room. “Don’t over sleep too much or we won’t be able to go to the cafe without being late.” You called out to him before closing yourself in your room.

You sighed, the darkness of the room surrounding you as your eyes slowly adjusted. It was silly to be so upset at not being asked to sleep in your roommate’s bed, as if you had any claim on the space. You carefully got dressed into an oversized hoodie and pair of sleep shorts before laying down and grabbing a make up wipe from your bedside table to haphazardly remove the small traces you had worn that night before pulling your spare pillow to your chest. If you couldn’t fall asleep with the beautiful musical theory major in your arms then this would have to do until you maybe one day worked up the courage to tell him how you felt.

The smell of deli pickles and the loud sound of the latest pop hits surrounded you as you poked around at your salad absentmindedly while Jeongin sat across from you ranting about something your professor had left a comment about on his most recent assignment. You were too busy thinking about how earlier that morning Jisung had come up behind you in the quad in between classes and wrapped his arms around your waist with his head rested on your own while you had been talking with Felix and Jeongin about the party that was happening later that evening.

The musician had lit up as he pulled back to look at you in surprise. “Wait- you’re going to Junnie-hyung’s party too? I thought you said those were too loud and crowded.” He pouted, arms giving you a squeeze before falling limp at his sides. “Well I wasn’t gonna go but Lix insists I need to get out of the house more than our normal game nights with the crew.”

He still held the pout on his lips, arms crossing over his chest. “But if you’re going to the party who’s gonna stay in and watch dramas with me and listen to me complain about the lead girl picking the wrong guy??” He said with a little whine, one hand coming to hold your bicep and you felt your resolve cracking. Maybe you should just stay in after all with your crush instead of going out to a party you’d most likely get overstimulated at and wish you were at home anyways. That’s when Felix perked up and bounced over to wrap his arms around Jisung with excitement. “Well then you should just come with us!” The musician groaned as he let the slightly younger engineer squeeze him before shaking their bodies dramatically. “Come ooon it’ll be fun! Please?” You gave him a small smile, and that’s all it took for Jisung to agree.

“Hello? Winnie- Are you even paying attention?” Jeongin huffed, popping a fry in his mouth as you looked up from your salad to give him a bashful smile. “Sorry, innie- was trying to figure out what I’m gonna wear to the party tonight…” You felt his smirk on you before you saw it and you whined, knowing what he was about to say before he even spoke. “Why? Trying to impress a certain someone?” He teased lightly as he took a bite of his sandwich. “No- just…there are gonna be a lot of people there so I wanna look nice.” You shrugged, taking a bite of your salad while your companion gave you an exasperated look. “Stop playing around, it’s just the two of us here. Anyways, it’s not like everyone isn’t already aware of your little crush but him.” Jeongin comments as he finishes off half of his sandwich and goes in for a bite of the second half. “Still- you act like my world revolves around pleasing Jisung.” You mumbled, eating a piece of chicken out of your salad as you thought for real this time about what you should wear to the party. “Will you help me pick something out? You’re way better at this than I am.” Jeongin smirked, nodding his head enthusiastically. “You’re giving me a chance to dress you up? Hell yeah. I’ve been dying to do something about your wardrobe situation for a while.” You gasped at him playfully while picking a fry off his place to throw at him. “Are you saying I don’t have style?!” He laughed, picking up the fry you threw from the table to pop it in his mouth before answering. “You have the style of an eighty year old grandmother with those cardigans you always wear.” You rolled your eyes before continuing with your meal. “Besides, gotta make you look hot so maybe you’ll finally grow the balls to tell Hanji how you feel.” Your eyes widened at that. It’s like he could read your mind- how you had been thinking of using this party as a way to gain the confidence to confess. The two of you finished your meal in relative silence, chatting here or there about class before finishing up and making your way back to campus for the rest of your day.

The bass was loud, as expected, the floor beneath your feet practically vibrating as the drink in your hand left a bitter taste on your tongue but you continued to sip at it in hopes it would blur the anxiety edging in your mind. Jeongin had done a wonder on you, dressing you in a lacy black cropped cami you completely forgot you had purchased and a miniskirt with a red floral pattern you normal would have worn under thick tights but tonight he had handed you a pair of fishnets you knew you did not own prior and he had to have brought them with him. You had to fight him on allowing you to wear a plain black cardigan, insisting that the cool autumn air would freeze you to death without it.

You made your way through the crowds carefully as to not spill your drink on yourself or others as you were already starting to feel a nice buzz when you happened to run into the man of the hour, your friend Yeonjun who was now the chapter president of the fraternity who’s party you were attending. “Winnie! Oh my god I didn’t think you’d actually come!” He exclaimed excitedly as he pulled you into a warm hug, patting you on the back lightly as he pulled away. “Well I wasn’t going to but Felix made a compelling argument-“ you giggled, tucking some of your hair behind your ear as he reached for the drink in your hand. “Whatcha got here?” You made to stop him before he tipped it back and made a face like he was going to spit it out. “What the hell was that?! Who gave you that?” He groaned, taking your hand firmly before dragging you towards the kitchen. “Wooyoung mixed it up- no clue what he put in there but he swore it’d be good.” The older man scoffed as you leaned against the counter while he poured your cup out and began making something new for you to drink. “Figures. That dude has no taste- I’m sure he’d drink nail polish remover if he thought it would give him a buzz.” You laughed, taking the drink he offered you with a thanks before taking a sip and sighing in relief. “Better?” He asked, an amused smile playing at the corner of his mouth and you nodded. “Much, thank you again.”

You stayed talking with Yeonjun in the kitchen for a while, catching up with him before he was pulled away by another member of his fraternity to play some drinking game you weren’t too knowledgeable. By the time you found another familiar face you were pleasantly intoxicated with yet another drink to sip on being thrust into your hand by an equally as intoxicated Hyunjin. “You look hot, Winnie bear.” He said with a smirk and a nudge to your hip with his own. You heard a chorus of agreement from the rest of your friends around you causing a blush to fan across your cheeks. “It’s all thanks to Innie! He deserves the credit.” You said, trying to take the attention off of yourself and thankfully it worked somewhat as the conversation naturally drifted off and you were able to sip your drink and listen in as your mind wandered until you could feel someone’s gaze burning into you.

Jisung. He was staring at you with an unreadable expression as he sipped at the drink in how own hand. The colorful flash of the strobe lights in the living room illuminated his honeyed skin in a way that mesmerized you and you swallowed hard before stumbling up to him. His hand came to your waist instantly as he let out a light chuckle. “Woah there, careful baby.” You blushed, feeling a bit embarrassed but the feeling of his hand still resting on the dip of your waist spurred you on as well as the earlier gassing up of your attire that evening. “You were staring, Hanji~” You sing songed to him, giggling a bit as you looked up into his eyes adoringly. He blinked a few times before shaking his head. “Just making sure you’re alright. You don’t usually come to these and you seem to be pretty drunk.” Jisung teased, poking your cheek though he pulled his finger away quickly as you turned to bite it playfully.

“You are so sweet, Ji…always looking out for me.” You cooed, head coming to rest on his shoulder as he wrapped an arm around you to steady you against him. “Well I-“ he started but you cut him off quickly. “And you’re always so pretty…prettiest man I’ve ever seen.” He blushed now, though you could barely see it under the still flashing lights in the room. The bass still booming around you caused you to feel hazy and the smell of his cologne would have been intoxicating alone without all of the alcohol you had consumed. “Have you seen Lee Minho?” He asked, obviously trying to tease but his voice seemed a little bewildered as he looked down at you curiously. “Han Jisung just take the damn compliment!” You pouted, stomping your foot in playful annoyance causing him to laugh. “Okay that’s enough alcohol for you, you are acting silly.” He said, gently taking your cup from you and sitting it down. “Noo no I’m having a good time! I’m with a pretty boy and I’m at a party and I feel greaaat~!” You stumbled more as you tried to leave his side to grab your drink but his arm tightened around you until your chests were flush together.

You both stood there for a moment with wide eyes staring at each other, and something seemed to possess you as you slowly started to lean in. You were gonna do it, gonna finally kiss the plush lips of the gorgeous man you had been living with for the past year and a half. Just as you were inches from impact his hands moved to your shoulders and he took a step back. “Alright, really you are being silly now. Let’s go find Channie-hyung and get him to take us home, yeah?” You sighed, feeling defeated as you nodded and let him take your hand and lead you to where Chris and Celine were sitting making out on the couch. Fuck your life, that couldn’t have gone any worse.

It was a few weeks after your drunken attempt at kissing your roommate that you were sat across from him in the library studying for your respective classes while quietly snacking on the grapes you had packed for the stuffy session.

Neither of you had spoken about that night much, besides Jisung teasing you about the massive hangover you had the next day. Nothing had seemed to change, and you were grateful for that. Jisung didn’t treat you any differently, probably assuming you trying to kiss him was only due to your intoxicated state and not any underlying feelings you’ve had for him since moving in together. You felt like you could breathe easy with that thought comforting your nerves.

Just as you were popping another grape into your mouth your roommate stood with a stretch of his likely sore muscles from sitting folded up in an uncomfortable library chair for the past few hours. “I’m gonna take a bathroom break, yeah? Don’t slack off without my moral support while I’m gone.” He teased, giving you a wink as he turned and made his way to the far end of the building where the restrooms were located. You hummed to yourself one of the tracks Jisung had played for you earlier, asking your opinion on the tune although you knew next to nothing about music in comparison to the prodigy he was. You both had a shared sociology class that you had been studying for a test together for the past hour and you got to a spot you knew he took some good notes for. He wouldn’t mind if you just..took a look at them while he was gone, right? Surely not. You know if you asked him he’d willingly turn them over anyway so it shouldn’t be an issue to just take a peek. You got up from your spot and took his seat before carefully scanning over what he had open on his laptop.

her moans echoed off the walls as his hand traveled lower, caressing her body in a way that drove her mad as he pressed he back firmly against the wet tile of the shower wall.

Oh. These were definitely not the notes for class. What even was he working on? Probably some fanfiction for one of his beloved dramas or animes. You giggled a bit and continued to read, your curiosity getting the better of you and also maybe you could get an idea of what he was into this way.

Gently he pushed a finger inside, the wetness from her arousal and the steady stream of water flowing down their bodies making the slide easy. His forehead rested against her own as she gasped. “J-Jeongin~”

Wait- what?! Jeongin. As in….Yang Jeongin? Your Yang Jeongin? Yang Jeongin who grew up in the same neighborhood as you, whose mother was your mother’s best friend in college. Jeongin who for the first few years of your life you were convinced was your cousin and even your parents couldn’t tell you that you weren’t. Why was Jisung writing explicit stories about him- what even was this?! Still, you continued to read until your eyes caught something that confused you even more.

”oh Winnie, so wet for me already? I’ve barely touched you.” He chuckled darkly as he began pumping his finger in a slow rhythm before adding a second and picking up the pace.

You- you’re Winnie….no- what is even happening right now?! Your roommate who is one of your best friends, that you have had a crush on for a year, is writing….smut about you and your childhood best friend? You shake your head, unable to fully wrap your mind around what you just read but then your eyes widen as you hear Jisung singing along to some song that had been playing in the car earlier that day and getting scolded by the librarian as he made his way back to you. Shit.

You scramble back to your seat, heart racing as you try to seem nonchalant like you hadn’t just read that Jisung was writing about one of your closest friend’s finger blasting you in the shower. “Hey baby, miss me?” He teased, taking his seat and casually placing his headphones back around his neck. “Haha yeah definitely- you have those notes from Mr. Lewis’ class? I’m stuck and you always have better notes-“ You feel sweat beading at the back of your neck from the adrenaline, worrying in the back of your mind that you will get caught for snooping. “You got it, baby.” He coos, pushing a notebook your way and you curse yourself in your mind that of course he wouldn’t have notes on his computer but in one of the millions of notebooks he kept on his person. “Thanks, Ji.” You breathe out, trying to keep calm as you attempt to get back to work.

What the actual fuck was that.

author’s note; happy birthday to meee~~ it’s currently 12:36am Jan13th and I’m officially half fifty ꒰ᐢ⸝⸝⸝⸝⸝ᐢ꒱⸒⸒ hope you all enjoyed the first chapter~~ this is just the beginning hehehe

taglist; (pink users I wasn’t able to tag) @chancloud8 @iknow-uknow-leeknow @extremechaoswarning @jisunglyricist @imeverycliche

[darkintothedawn]

stiles sneakin into ur window at night bc he refuses to use the front door and wake everyone up

DRAIN PIPE || Stiles Stilinski 'Teen Wolf'

Pairing — Stiles Stilinski x Gender Neutral reader

Summary — Stiles is climbing into your window and causing a mess, it's late and you're tired and you just don't want to deal with it. The morning is better, with all traces of annoyance gone, until Stiles' dad is screaming for him outside and you're instead confessing to your mother that you were the one who called him over.

Memo— I'm sorry if this isn't exactly what you wanted, I genuinely couldn't figure out how to start this to begin with for a while. Thank you for the request of course and if you did want something different or if someone wants something similar you can always send another ask! I do hope you like this, anon.

Word Count — 3741

Warnings — Fluff. Mild annoyance. Puppy dog Stiles.

Masterlist | Stiles' Adventures

Your room is dimly lit by the glow of your phone screen, the only source of light as you lay sprawled out on your bed. The house is quiet, the kind of stillness that only settles in when everyone else is asleep, leaving you alone with the soft hum of your thoughts—and Stiles blowing up your phone.

Stiles: You up? Stiles: Wait, ofc you are. You literally just opened this. Stiles: Soooooo Stiles: What if I was dying? And you ignored me? How would you feel? You: I’d be mildly inconvenienced but ultimately fine. Stiles: Rude. Disrespectful. Hurtful, even. You: You’re not dying. Stiles: Not physically, but emotionally? Spiritually? Maybe even mentally? You: Sounds like a you problem. Stiles: Wow. Ok. Ice cold. Where’s the love?

You shake your head, biting back a smile as you toss your phone onto your chest. It’s always like this with Stiles—constant, clingy, and so unapologetically him. And you don’t mind, not really. If anything, his ridiculous messages have become a staple of your nights, filling the silence with his chaotic energy even from a distance.

Your fingers hover over the keyboard, about to hit send on another sarcastic reply, when your phone buzzes again.

Stiles: What if I was outside your window right now?

You scoff, rolling your eyes. You: I’d tell you to stop being creepy and go to bed.

The typing bubble pops up, then disappears. A pause. Then—

Stiles: Bold of you to assume I’d listen.

Before you can respond, there’s a soft thud outside your window.

Your heart stutters.

Another sound—this time a muffled curse, followed by the unmistakable scrape of sneakers against the siding of your house.

You freeze. No. No way.

Slowly, you sit up, eyes locked on the window. A shadow moves outside, just beyond the glass.

You don’t even think. You launch yourself toward the curtain, yanking it back, and—

Yep.

There he is.

Stiles Stilinski, clinging to the edge of your windowsill like some kind of sleep-deprived raccoon, his hoodie askew and his expression caught somewhere between triumph and regret.

"Hey," he whisper-yells, flashing you a lopsided grin. "Fancy meeting you here."

You stare at him, unimpressed. "Are you serious?"

"Would you believe me if I said no?"

You push the window up just enough to glare at him properly. "Do I even want to ask how you got up here?"

"Uh—" He looks down for the first time, then back at you, his grin faltering. "So, funny story… Turns out your drainpipe is not, in fact, built for weight-bearing activities. Who knew?"

You follow his gaze to the slightly bent metal, your jaw tightening. "You're the reason it looks like that?"

"Technically, gravity is to blame, but sure, pin this on me."

You press a hand to your forehead, exhaling through your nose. "You have got to stop doing this."

"And yet," he says, shifting his grip and hoisting himself higher, "Here I am."

"Yeah, and I’m starting to question why I keep letting this happen."

"You don't let it happen," he corrects, grunting as he swings a leg over the sill. "I make it happen."

Before you can protest, he somehow manages to wriggle through the window with all the grace of a drunken deer, knocking into the curtain and nearly toppling your bedside lamp. He lands on your floor with a soft oof, sprawled out on his back, staring at the ceiling like he’s just run a marathon.

"That was exhausting," he groans. "You should really consider moving to a ground-floor bedroom."

"You should really consider knocking on the front door," you retort, crossing your arms.

Stiles scoffs, propping himself up on his elbows. "Okay, yeah, and then what? I wake your parents up? They already think I’m a bad influence—if I show up at your front door in the middle of the night, they’d never let me stay over again."

You blink at him. "Stiles. They wouldn’t let you stay over now."

He pauses, then clicks his tongue. "That’s fair."

You sigh, pinching the bridge of your nose. "So, let me get this straight��you climbed up the side of my house, almost fell to your death, broke my drainpipe, and risked getting caught all so you could not wake my parents?"

"When you say it like that, it sounds kinda dumb."

"It is dumb."

He grins. "Yeah, but, like… dumb in a charming way, right?"

You roll your eyes, nudging his foot with yours. "No, dumb in a dumb way."

He gasps, pressing a hand to his chest like you've just mortally wounded him. "You wound me. Really. I don’t think I’ll ever recover from this betrayal."

"Yeah, well, actions have consequences."

Stiles flops back onto the floor with a dramatic sigh. "Fine. I see how it is. You don’t appreciate me. I’m just some guy, risking life and limb to see you, and for what? Disrespect?"

"For a concussion, probably," you mutter.

He watches you from the floor, his expression softer now, less exaggerated dramatics, more something real. "You’re not actually mad, though. Right?" He stands up when he talks, almost as if he's ready to spring out the window if you are.

You hesitate, then sigh, flopping down onto your bed. "No. But I should be."

"Yeah," he agrees, grinning. "You should be. But you’re not. Because deep, deep down, you love that I do this."

You lift your head just enough to squint at him. "Love is a strong word."

He smirks. "You tolerate that I do this?"

You huff, shaking your head. "That’s more accurate."

And honestly? It is. Because at the end of the day, this is just… Stiles. Sneaking in through your window like a delinquent, making himself at home on your floor, filling your nights with his restless energy.

And despite how much you should be annoyed, how much you should tell him to stop—

You know you’d miss it if he ever did.

You shake your head, still lying on your bed as Stiles lingers in the middle of your room, looking awkward in a way that’s almost endearing—hands shoved into the pockets of his hoodie, shoulders slightly hunched, like he’s suddenly unsure what to do now that he’s actually here.

You watch him for a second, then sigh. "Okay, so—why are you here?"

He shifts on his feet, glancing around your room like the answer might be hiding in your bookshelf or taped to your walls. "I dunno," he says, rocking back on his heels. "Just… couldn’t sleep, I guess. And I was thinking about stuff. And you."

Your eyebrows lift. "Me?"

"Yeah, you." He shrugs like it’s not a big deal, but the way he won’t quite meet your eyes says otherwise. "And I figured, you know, since I was already thinking about you, and since you were obviously awake, and since your window is right there—"

"—you decided to break in."

"Not break in. More like… strategically enter."

You sigh, dragging a hand down your face. "You’re impossible."

"Yeah," he says, grinning a little. "But you like me anyway."

You don’t dignify that with a response. Instead, you just pull your covers to the side, turning over onto your other shoulder. "Close the window."

There's a pause.

You don’t look at him, don’t clarify, don’t explain—because if he doesn’t get the hint, that’s his problem.

For a second, there’s nothing but silence. Then, finally, the soft creak of the window shutting, the lock clicking into place.

And a few moments later, the dip of your mattress as Stiles climbs in beside you.

Stiles hesitates for only a second before he takes what you’ve silently offered, slipping under the covers and settling in behind you. His movements are careful, almost tentative, like he’s waiting for you to change your mind and shove him off the bed.

You don’t.

Mostly because you’re exhausted—mentally, emotionally, and from the sheer effort it’s going to take to pretend your drainpipe isn’t hanging on for dear life outside your window. You don’t have the energy to kick him out, and honestly, even if you did, you probably wouldn’t.

He shifts slightly, adjusting until he’s pressed fully against your back, his arm draping naturally over your waist. He’s warm—unfairly so—and for a moment, you hate how easy it is to relax against him, how comfortable this feels despite the absolute nuisance he’s been tonight.

"You’re still mad," he murmurs, his breath warm against the nape of your neck.

"Not mad exactly," you say, your voice muffled against your pillow. "Just… annoyed."

"Right. Annoyed. Got it." His fingers tap lightly against your hip, thoughtful. "So, like… mild annoyance? Or are we talking long-term consequences? Should I be preparing for some kind of slow-burn revenge arc?"

You snort. "You wish I had the patience for a slow-burn revenge arc."

"True," he concedes, squeezing your waist lightly. "You’re more of an ‘immediate consequences’ type. Which, honestly? Fair."

You hum in agreement, staring at the wall. You should turn around. Should look him in the eye and make sure he knows you’re actually a little pissed this time, that he can’t just pull some reckless stunt and expect to charm his way out of it.

But the problem is… if you do turn around, he’s going to be looking at you like that—all soft-eyed and stupidly endearing, like a kicked puppy who just wants to be forgiven. Because he is one.

And you will forgive him, way too quickly, because you always do.

So, instead, you stay facing away, letting him be the big spoon, letting him hold you without having to see the expression that’s no doubt on his face. He can deal with you being slightly annoyed for once. He deserves to sit with it.

Besides, you’ll be the one stuck explaining to your parents why the drainpipe looks like it lost a fight with a raccoon.

For now, though, you let your eyes slip shut, focusing on the steady rhythm of his breathing behind you, the warmth of him pressed close, the way his fingers trace mindless patterns against your side.

He’s here. He’s safe.

And maybe you’ll be less annoyed in the morning.

The morning light filters softly through your curtains, painting everything in hazy gold. The world is still quiet, wrapped in that early morning stillness where reality hasn’t quite settled in yet.

You’re warm. Comfortable. And you don’t fully register why until your sleep-fogged brain starts to catch up with your body.

Your face is pressed against something solid and warm, rising and falling with slow, measured breaths. Your arms are curled around a familiar frame, fingers tucked into the fabric of a hoodie, holding on just as tightly as the arms wrapped around you.

Stiles.

He’s awake. You can feel it in the way his body is just a little too still, like he’s trying way too hard not to move. His breathing is slow—too slow—like he’s deliberately keeping it shallow so he doesn’t disturb you.

You peek your eyes open, blinking up at him. Sure enough, his gaze is already on you, wide and soft, like he’s been staring at you for a while now. His expression is unreadable, but there’s something tender about it—something careful, like he doesn’t want to do anything that might ruin this moment.

You yawn, stretching slightly but not moving away. Instead, you nuzzle just a little further into his chest before tilting your head up, pressing a lazy, barely-awake kiss to the underside of his jaw.

“Breathe,” you murmur against his skin.

You feel him suck in a sharp inhale, his arms tightening around you instinctively.

Then, a breathless laugh. “I—yeah. Okay. Noted.”

You shift, resting your chin against his chest so you can look at him properly. “I’m not annoyed anymore.”

His lips twitch, his fingers brushing absentmindedly against your back. “I figured. You are currently cuddling me like I’m your emotional support human.”

You don’t even try to deny it. There’s no point—you both know the truth. It was you who moved into his arms sometime during the night, who sought him out in your sleep, curled up against him like it was the most natural thing in the world.

Stiles knows it. You know it. It always happens. And neither of you are in any rush to change it.

So instead, you just sigh, pressing your face back into his hoodie, letting yourself relax completely into him.

His arms stay wrapped around you, holding you like he has no intention of letting go anytime soon.

And honestly?

You’re perfectly okay with that.

The warmth of him, the slow, steady rise and fall of his chest, the way his fingers absentmindedly trace the curve of your spine—it’s grounding in a way you don’t fully want to acknowledge yet. You should probably say something snarky, tease him for the way he’s holding you like you might disappear if he lets go, but you don’t.

Instead, you shift, stretching lazily, letting your nose brush against the hollow of his throat as you settle back in. Stiles tenses for half a second, his breath hitching, and you feel the way his fingers tighten at your waist like he’s trying to keep himself in check.

It makes you smirk against his hoodie.

"You okay there?" you murmur, your voice still thick with sleep.

He exhales a little too forcefully. "Yeah. Totally fine. Just—" He clears his throat. "You, uh. You can't just do that."

"Do what?" You tilt your head, blinking up at him with innocent eyes.

Stiles levels you with a look. "You know what."

You just hum, clearly unbothered, shifting again so that your leg slots between his. It’s barely anything—just a sleepy, natural movement—but it's enough to have Stiles groaning under his breath, pressing his head back into your pillow like he's gathering some kind of strength.

"You’re doing this on purpose," he mutters, eyes squeezing shut.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about," you say, voice light, but the smile you’re biting back gives you away.

He makes a strangled noise in the back of his throat. "You are a menace."

"And yet, you’re still here."

"Yeah," he breathes, his voice quieter now, something softer threading through it. "I am."

You finally glance up at him properly, and it’s a mistake. Because he’s already looking at you, already watching you with that look—the one that’s way too fond, way too open, way too everything. His eyes flicker over your face, lingering for half a second too long on your mouth before meeting your gaze again, and it sends a quiet thrill through you.

For once, he doesn’t fill the silence with words. He just watches you, his hand at your waist stilling, fingers pressing just a little firmer into your side. You swallow.

"You’re staring," you murmur, voice quieter now.

"Yeah," he says simply. "Guess I am."

You don’t know who moves first. Maybe it’s you, maybe it’s him, or maybe it’s both of you at the same time—but it doesn’t really matter, because one second you’re just laying there, hovering in that space between hesitation and action, and the next—

His lips are on yours.

It’s soft at first, tentative, like he’s waiting to see if you’ll pull away. When you don’t—when you press into it, letting your fingers curl into the fabric of his hoodie—he exhales against your mouth, something loosening in him, and suddenly, you’re kissing Stiles.

And it’s good.

Better than you would have expected, if you’d ever let yourself think about lazy, sleepy, morning kisses with Stiles before (which, for the record, you totally haven’t). His lips are warm and a little chapped, moving against yours in a way that’s way too easy, way too natural, like this isn’t the first time you’ve done it. Like this isn’t the first time he’s thought about doing it.

You sigh against him, tilting your head slightly, and he makes a quiet, almost desperate noise before kissing you again, deeper this time. His hand slides up, fingers tracing along your ribcage, settling just beneath the hem of your shirt, and the warmth of it sends a shiver through you.

He notices. Smirks against your mouth.

"Cold?" he murmurs.

You huff, nudging his nose with yours. "Shut up."

"Not a chance," he says, grinning, before kissing you again.

This time, there’s nothing tentative about it. His hand slips higher, his body pressing closer, and it’s dizzying—the slow drag of his lips, the heat of him against you, the way he’s kissing you like he’s been waiting for this, like he needs it, like he’s making up for lost time.

And maybe—just maybe—you feel the same way.

You tangle your fingers into his hair, tugging just slightly, and he groans against your mouth, his grip on your waist tightening. His hoodie rides up between you, fabric bunching as your hands roam, and suddenly, it’s all warmth and pressure and Stiles.

It’s almost too much. It’s not enough.

And then—

There’s a loud bang from outside.

You both freeze.

A beat of silence. Then—

"Stiles?"

Your stomach drops.

Stiles curses under his breath, forehead pressing against your shoulder. "Oh, you have got to be kidding me."

A second later, another call.

"Stiles Stilinski, are you up there?"

Your eyes widen. "Is that—"

"My dad," Stiles groans, rolling onto his back and dragging his hands down his face. "That’s my dad."

Your stomach twists. "He knows you're here?"

"I don’t know!" Stiles hisses, already scrambling to sit up. "But considering he’s currently yelling my name outside your house, I’m gonna go ahead and assume that, yeah, he knows."

You swear under your breath, sitting up with him. "How the hell does he know?"

"I—" Stiles pauses, then closes his eyes in defeat. "Oh my god."

You stare at him. "What?"

"My jeep is parked in your driveway."

There’s a beat of silence as you both process that. Then—

"Oh my god."

"Yeah," Stiles groans, rubbing his temples. "I am so unbelievably screwed."

You don’t even hesitate. You shove him. "Get out."

"I’m trying!" He flails, nearly toppling off the bed as he tries to untangle himself from the covers. "Do you have a back door? A fire escape? A trapdoor?"

"Oh, yeah, let me just pull the secret lever in my suburban bedroom," you deadpan. "Obviously not, Stiles."

He glares at you, shoving his feet into his sneakers. "Your sarcasm is not helping right now."

"Neither is your existence in my room at seven in the morning."

"Okay, ow," he mutters, making a beeline for the window.

Before he can climb out, there's a knock on your bedroom door.

Your heart stops.

"Sweetheart?" your mom calls. "Are you awake?"

You and Stiles lock eyes, frozen in panic.

He exhales sharply. "I’m never sneaking in here again."

You shove him toward the window. "Yeah, that’s what you said last time."

He hesitates for half a second, glancing back at you, and in the middle of all the chaos, the sheer insanity of the situation, his expression softens. "Hey," he murmurs.

You blink. "What?"

He grins, lopsided and infuriating, but somehow still—sweet. "Worth it."

Your chest tightens, but before you can respond, the knock comes again, more insistent.

You take a breath, forcing your voice to stay steady. "Yeah, Mom, I’m up."

The door cracks open, and she peeks in, her gaze flicking between you and Stiles, who is now standing awkwardly by the window, caught in the act.

Her eyebrows lift. "Stiles?"

You nod, pulling the blanket tighter around yourself. "I, uh… I called him over. I missed him."

She glances between the two of you again, then sighs. "Next time, maybe tell me beforehand, okay?"

You swallow. "Okay."

And miraculously, somehow—she buys it.

Stiles is still frozen by the window, one leg halfway up like he’s debating whether to fully commit to the escape or just surrender to the inevitable. He looks at you, then at your mom, then back at you.

“So… do I keep going? Or…?” He gestures vaguely toward the open window. “I mean, I can, but—"

Your mom sighs, already turning to head downstairs. “Oh, for god’s sake, Stiles, just come have breakfast.”

He blinks. “Wait, really?”

“Yes,” she says, exasperated. “And tell your father to come in, because his yelling isn’t doing anyone any good this early in the morning.”

Stiles stares after her as she disappears down the hall, then slowly turns back to you. “… I’m sorry, what just happened?”

You groan, falling back onto the bed and dragging the blanket over your face. “I don’t know. Just—go downstairs before she changes her mind.”

He huffs out a quiet laugh, then hesitates, rubbing the back of his neck. “Hey.”

You peek out from under the blanket, raising an eyebrow. “What?”

His expression softens, a flicker of guilt passing over his face. “Thanks. For, y’know, taking the blame.”

You roll your eyes but nudge his foot with yours. ���It’s the least I could do.”

He grins at that, rocking back on his heels before reaching for your hand. His fingers thread through yours easily, like it’s something he’s been doing forever, and your chest tightens at the casual intimacy of it.

You try not to let it show, but he catches it anyway. Because of course he does.

He lifts your hand to his lips, pressing a soft kiss to your knuckles, and your breath stutters just slightly. When he speaks, his voice is quieter, more serious.

“I promise I’ll never put you in a situation like this again.”

You narrow your eyes. “You’re a terrible liar.”

He winces. “Okay, yeah, that was definitely a lie.”

You snort, shoving his shoulder. “Come on, Stilinski. Let’s go face the music.”

He groans, dragging a hand down his face as he follows you toward the door. “If my dad tries to give me the talk at the breakfast table, I am walking into oncoming traffic.”

You grin, bumping his hip with yours as you head downstairs. “Relax. My mom likes you.”

“That’s what worries me,” he mutters, but his fingers are still laced with yours, and somehow, even with the looming awkwardness of breakfast with both your parents, it doesn’t feel so bad.

[master-of-junk]

Me Together You

🏮Mr. Crawling x MC

Just fluff

__________________________________________

You sighed out tiredly as you walked up to the familiar apartment door. You grabbed it slowly, silently up entered your darkened apartment, listening for a moment, since your return to your world you were always on edge.

Waiting for something to creep out of the darkness…more like crawl

A troubled sigh left you as you put your things down and went to your room trying to shake the thoughts of your head. You couldn’t help it though, just when you got to leave that hellish world, your thoughts were invaded by a particular entity.

You were constantly looking over your shoulder for him, looking downwards any time you heard shuffling on towards the ground. You had even followed a man briefly who had long black hair and pale skin but upon closer inspection you left when you realized his face didn’t match.

You got into the hot shower pressing your forehead to the porcelain tile. You frowned a bit dejected, okay, you had to admit that you had grown more fond of Mr. Crawling then you cared to admit but who wouldn’t have?? He was so nice and concerned for you from the very first minute you two met. Even when you freaked out and accidentally hit him with a crowbar-

Anyone with a heart would miss a creature like him. Sure he was a little odd to look at but he was a true and dear friend at this point. The last thing you recalled from the other world was that you were both running from Mr. Scarletella. You saw the elevator and without thinking grabbed onto Mr. Crawling bringing him with you as you practically crashed into the elevator. Next thing you know, you were waking up in an alley way. At first you remembered nothing at all, just a vague feeling of loss. You felt worried, like you needed to find something, it wasn’t until a fever dream reminded you. However after a few weeks you began to question if any of that had happened at all…

You sighed once again turning the shower off and dried off, dawning a large shirt, you exited the bathroom and stepped into your bedroom only to hear a clatter outside the door! You turned your head, a familiar sense of edge coming to your demeanor as you grabbed a metal broom handle as your weapon of choice. You gently looked out from your bedroom door not seeing anything initially… your apartment living room dark. You opened your bedroom door wider, allowing the light from your room to invade the dark area still holding onto your trusted broom handle… you noticed what had caused the noise.

It was your coat, it had fallen from the counter where you had placed it and took your bag with it. You trailed away from the light of your bedroom, letting out a breath you mumbled to yourself “I’m being silly…” you set the broom handle down and knelt down to the items on the floor. You picked your bag up and set it on the counter before grabbing your coat. Though you had relaxed, your subconscious mentally reminded you that you had placed your bag on top of your coat. It wasn’t near the edge and shouldn’t have fallen-

You stood up straight holding the white rain coat in your hands- you had kept it after returning and used it often maybe you hoped someone would recognize it- you’re mind mentally figured that the logical way your stuff would have fallen was if the coat was pulled from a lower position, your eyes widen and you felt your breath catch as you heard shifting in the darkness.

You turned down a darker hall of your apartment and saw the light grey toned skin, you almost couldn’t believe it! Before you could say anything the familiar figure tackled you! You gasped hitting the floor “Mr. Crawling!!!” You immediately hugged him back as the entity nuzzled into you “Find you! You! You!” You smiled happily trying to return the gesture by hugging him close “And you! Where you go?!”

He explained smiling at you “Me lost, Come find you.” He tugged on the white rain coat “Remembered.” You smiled nodding “I was wondering where you were! Don’t scare me like that again!” You were sure he was just letting you yell at him not knowing a thing. He smiled at me “You miss me?” Your eyebrows furrowed a little as you smiled holding a hand to his face “Of course I missed you-“ you managed to get up “Well-“ you looked around “Home.” You gestured and he looked around curiously.

It was oddly endearing watching him rub against your carpet and couch like an animal. He commented “Soft!” You nodded “Here nice. Not like other world.” You ended up dragging him to the bathroom, he was so dirty that you didn’t care to stripe him down and throw him in the tub. Though a part of you wondered if he felt things like embarrassment- it seems like he didn’t because he became enthralled with bubbles and soap suds.

You even washed his blood soaked clothing. It was still tattered and dingy but it smelled a lot better now. Meanwhile Mr.crawling was thrilled you be with you again, he found his new surroundings even better given how much you seemed to love doting on him. You combed his hair, kept him clean, and fed him meat. Your world was much warmer than his and a lot safer. Bedtime rolled around and you got into bed, you felt a small creek and looked down to see Mr.crawling pausing at the foot of your bed. You sighed out a bit chuckling “Come on big guy- you get cuddles tonight-“ he smiled widely and crawled up beside you “Miss you.” You nodded laying your head back “Miss you.” He hugged you leaning closer, his hand moving to your head “Pet, pet.” He kept touching you petting you making you laugh a bit before laying your head back down and closing your eyes assuming he’d stop eventually.

You felt him rubbing his hands through your hair and down your next before you heard him shift and lean towards you, his hand on your shoulder pulling you slightly, you opened your eyes to see him lowering his face near you. You gave him an odd look until he suddenly kissed your cheek. You asked him “What do?” He perked up and smiled explaining “While lost-“ he made a few hand gestures “See others do.” You looked a bit surprised.

Then again, Mr. Crawling has always had quite the comprehension. You leaned on your hand “Were you watching other people?” He titled his head “Watch?” He repeated thinking about the word and you chuckled a bit “You watch others do?” He seemed to understand and nodded at you smiling again. He stated “You do.” You could communicate but sometimes it was still hard “Me do. Others do. All do.” You supposed he was wondering if you did what other humans do. But his grin widened at you making you look at him oddly “What?” He suddenly wrapped his arms around your torso “We do!”

He suddenly began kissing you all over face making you struggle a bit “Ah-“ he hugged you closely, your face was awfully red “Mr. Crawling! No!” He frowned still holding you “We together…” your bright red face was new to him, he didn’t understand why you acted this way when other humans had much more positive responses “We friends-“ he titled his head “Only special friends do that stuff-“ you puffed at him as he frowned at you “Not special?” You mentally screamed digging your own grave. You sighed and patted the bed “Sleep?” He gave you an odd look but laid down. You hugged him and laid on top of his chest. You replayed all the kisses he gave you and muttered “Special…” hoping he didn’t hear it but his grip on you said different.

[whatever-lmaoo]

Sweet Life Of Mine

Summary: Life works in mysterious ways and Bucky would go through it all again if it meant he’d get to experience the rest of it with you.

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x curvy!reader

CW: fluff, a bit of teasing, flashbacks are italicized and thoughts are in bold and italicized[2.4k]

A/N: As always the cute line dividers were made by @firefly-graphics 🌸 I’ve decided to turn this into a two-parter 🙂‍↔️ Special recognition to @buckys-wintersoldier without her encouragement I probably would’ve trashed this fic early on in the process😂 and @targaryenvampireslayer for listening to me yap and helping me come up with ideas when I would get stuck😍I am so thankful for both of them and y’all should check out their works because they are wonderful!!!💖 With that being said this fic has grown on me a lot and I hope y’all enjoy it as much as I do🥹 Dialogue is not my strong suite so I apologize if any of the lines sound corny🤧 I don’t give anyone permission to copy, translate or repost my works on here or other sites😊 Comments and constructive feedback is always appreciated!!

Bucky absentmindedly breaks down the last few cardboard boxes, taking in your newly furnished living room. Photos of you and your respective families are scattered along the walls and on top of your antique furniture. Plants strategically placed around the room and the gorgeous lamps you picked out created a welcoming atmosphere.

He throws the last box on top of his makeshift pile, wondering how all of the broken roads of his life led him to this moment, how he got his dream girl, a woman who accepted him with his baggage and loved the parts of him that he deemed unpleasant, physically and mentally. It all felt so surreal to him.

As the time grew closer for the wedding to start, Bucky couldn’t help but pace his dressing room floor. He occasionally looked in the mirror to fix his hair or wipe his face with another paper towel before throwing it away in the almost-filled trash can. He felt like his throat was constricted and began fidgeting with his tie. Eventually, he gave up and hunched over a table, trying to remind himself that everything was okay.

The weight of a hand rubbing his back, slowly grounded him for a moment. Steve’s voice sounded muffled in his ears but grew clearer as Bucky took in deeper breaths and continued to focus on the circular motion of Steve’s movements. “Buck, do you want me to get her for you?” The small “please” he lets out is all it takes for Steve to rush to your room.

Bucky stood up and grabbed a bottle of water from on top of a dresser. He was almost finished with it when a soft knock caught his attention.

“Baby?” You say opening the door slightly and sticking your hand through the gap. A clammy palm rests on yours as you massage his knuckles with your thumb, imprinting your touch in his mind, a silent reminder that you’ll always be there when he needs you.

“You ready to be stuck with me for life, Hotshot?” You tease, grinning as you hear him let out a quiet laugh.

"I should be asking you that, Gorgeous,” he breathes. “I don’t think I’ve ever been more ready for something than I am at the thought of marrying you. I’m just worried that I’ll somehow mess this up or this is one big dream. I’m afraid that at any second I’ll wake up in a cold sweat and find myself sitting on that old apartment floor, where instead of hearing that lovely voice of yours, it’ll be the older lady next door yelling because she muted her TV again or the loud honks from angry New Yorkers." He rests his head against the door and clutches the doorknob with his metal hand.

“Can you feel that, Bubba?” you say, placing his hand on your chest, feeling the rapid rhythm of your heart beating against his fingertips. “My heart beats like this when I see or listen to you. When I think about being able to wear your ring on my finger, taking your last name, and one day being the mother of your children. My heart beats for you, Bucky, and that's one of the realest feelings I've ever experienced.”One thing Bucky loves about you is you’ve never judged him for expressing his fears, and you’re always there to support him when his insecurities eat away at his progress.

He can hear Natasha's distant voice calling for you and smiles softly.

“I’ve got to head back for last-minute touch-ups, but I’ll see you at the end of the aisle, right?” You reach for his hand on your chest, gently kissing his palm before reconnecting your hands together.

“I’ll be there waiting for you. I love you, Gorgeous.” He squeezes your hand, running his thumb over your fingers.

“I love you too, Hotshot.” And with that, you slip your hand from his loose grip and through the door, your hurried steps echoing in the hall. Steve enters a moment later, noticing that the previous tension in Bucky’s body has almost completely disappeared.

“Let’s go make you a married man, Buck.”

“What are we waiting for, punk,” Bucky says, slapping him on the back playfully, laughing with each other as they walk out of the room, ready to make his dreams come true.

“Hey Gorgeous, I’ve got a question for you.” Bucky groans out as he starts straightening up his mess.

“Ask away, Hotshot.” You utter, your voice resounding slightly in the foyer as you hang up a picture of the two of you on your wedding night.

Humming along to the soft music from the living room while admiring how Bucky’s skin glowed under the golden hues from the sparklers your friends and family surrounded the two of you with. You can still feel the love radiating from him just by looking at his tender smile and remembering how his deep blue eyes twinkled with fondness as he gazed at you with his arms wrapped around your waist.

“How do you feel about going on a date tomorrow?” You smile at the steady sound of footsteps approaching you. A pair of hands enclose your wide hips, and Bucky’s chin rests on your shoulder as he inhales the pleasant scent of your perfume.

“I would love to go on a date with you, Bubs.” The warmth of his breath sends a shiver through your body, and you can feel your cheeks heating up as he places a sweet kiss below your ear.

“Where are you going to take me?” You ask, grabbing his hands and placing them on your plush belly, leaning back in his embrace.

“Let’s see, I could take you to the movies, an amusement park, or maybe a pumpkin patch. The possibilities are endless.” You hear his grin before you see it, turning your head towards him.

“You’re not going to tell me, are you?” A pout forms on your face, and you twist in his arms as he straightens up, clasping your hands together behind his neck.

“You would be correct, Gorgeous,” he says, smirking and pecking your lips. You hope he didn’t notice the slight widening of your eyes as an idea popped into your head.

“How am I supposed to know what to wear if I don’t know where we’re going?” You ask sweetly, letting your fingertips play with the soft hair at the nape of his neck.

“I’ll pick out something for you.” Your head tilts and eyebrows raise in amusement.

“You…are going to choose what I wear?” Bucky rolls his eyes and licks his lower lip in thought.

“Are you questioning my fashion sense, Doll? If I remember correctly, you wear my clothes more than I do.” His hands slip down to the top of your ass drawing your body in even closer, and you roll your eyes this time.

“You’ve never put together an outfit for me before, and I like wearing your clothes because they’re comfortable and smell like you.”

“Don’t want that pretty little head of yours worrying about a thing tomorrow. And I’m not complaining; they look better on you than on me. You make anything you wear look amazing, especially when it's in white.” A warm smile is plastered across his face, his eyes darting up to the photo behind you, another memory from the best day of his life playing in his mind like an old film.

“Do I look alright? Am I beginning to smell?” Bucky questions Steve and Sam as he tries to smoothen out his already-perfect suit jacket. The chattering from the guests did little to calm his nerves.

“You’re lookin’ snazzy, Bucknasty,” Sam says, giving Bucky a lighthearted slap on his ass.

"You look great, Buck." Steve wraps his arms around Bucky, bringing him into a tight hug. "I'm proud of you, man." He whispers, giving Bucky a brotherly kiss on the side of his head and a pat on his back as he lets go. He thanks the both of them before turning back around, eyes scanning the crowd as he tries to grasp the idea that all of these people are there for the both of you.

Bucky couldn't take his eyes off the door as the orchestra played the familiar tune of the song you chose for your entrance. After all the practices and months spent planning for this moment, nothing could prepare him for the overwhelming feeling he got when the ushers revealed your figure standing at the opposite end of him.

His bottom lip quivered, and he began to blink rapidly, but his gaze never strayed away from you. The dress you picked was beautiful, the shade of white complementing your complexion, and the way it hugged you in all the right places made you look like a goddess in his eyes.

He hadn't realized he was crying until you cupped his damp cheek in your palm, gently wiping away his tears while your own began to well in your eyes.

"Hi," you whispered through your watery smile, and it took everything in him not to crash his lips against yours.

You lightly glide your fingers down the side of his face, beaming up at him, already knowing where his train of thought took him. Gently tapping the side of his glasses, you watch as he slowly comes back to you, the affection in his eyes creating a warmth inside you that only he can ignite.

You wrap your arms around his midsection, and he kisses your temple before resting his cheek on top of your head, holding you against his body a little tighter.

“I think I look good in white too.” You say casually, a giggle escaping the two of you.

“Oh, yeah?” He says, a crooked smirk forming on his face, and you pull away slightly. A smirk of your own playing on your lips as you lean up next to his ear.

“So much so that I could be convinced to recreate the boudoir photos I gave you.” You take his earlobe between your teeth, pulling slightly, a low growl rumbles in his chest, and you do your best to keep your thighs from clenching. Bucky’s hands cup your ass as he lifts you in his arms.

“I’m sure it won’t take much to persuade you, pretty girl.” You roll your eyes at his cockiness, causing him to chuckle as he connects your lips, blindly making his way to your bedroom.

You felt a sense of tranquility despite the chilly breeze nipping at your exposed skin as you strolled through the desolate yet animated park. The sound of leaves rustling in the wind and the soft chirping of crickets fill your ears, while you watch the beautiful glow of fireflies encircling the bushes lining the pathway.

You admire the way the clear water of the pond shimmers softly in the moonlight as you take a seat on your favorite bench. Your eyes close and the tension in your body slowly fades as you allow yourself to enjoy Mother Nature and the safe feeling she provides you.

The hairs on your arms stand up as an unsettling feeling washes over you, and the squelching of grass confirms your fears of not being alone. You open your eyes, turning your head, searching for the source that disturbed your peace. Your eyes land on a figure standing at the edge of the pond.

He must have felt your stare because the next thing you know, a pair of striking blue eyes connects with yours. He watches you curiously as you assess whether he's a threat, and a ghost of a smile crosses his lips when he notices the slight drop in your shoulders before turning his gaze back to the still water.

Your lip rolls between your teeth as you consider leaving. You stand and start to walk away, but then you hear the stranger speak.

“You don’t have to leave.” He says, and you turn around after a lengthy moment of stillness, wondering if you should trust him. You observe his relaxed stance, face devoid of malice, but it's his captivating eyes that draw you in and tug at your heartstrings.

There was a silent plea within them, a look you've grown used to seeing in the mirror over the years. Hoping for someone to fill the kind of emptiness that comes with having experienced too much, even if only for a short while.

You stand in silence as a family of ducks begins to swim by. A twinge of pain surges through your chests, as you both watch the last one struggle to keep up, feeling like Mother Nature is reminding you that you were once in similar positions.

The wind grows colder, causing you to cross your arms in an attempt to conserve body heat. He notices this and starts to rid himself of his leather jacket.

“What are you doing?” You squeak out, taking a step back.

“Relax, you’re obviously cold and I wouldn’t be a gentleman if I let you stand there shivering.” You go to protest but he’s already wrapping his jacket around your arms.

“I’m not supposed to take things from strangers.” You exclaim, although, grateful for the makeshift shield against the cool weather.

“What are you? Ten? Would you feel better if I gave you my name?” He mocks and your eyes roll.

It’s always the pretty ones that are annoying.

“Oh, so you think I’m pretty?” He says, your eyes grow wide and your mouth gapes open.

I didn't mean to say that out loud.

“Fuck off. I think you’re annoying too.” He barks out a laugh at that, startling you slightly, you turn your head away from him feeling a small grin make its way to the surface.

“The name’s James, but you can call me Bucky, or pretty if that’s what you want.” He winks and you feel the heat rising to your cheeks as you tell him your name.

“Gorgeous name for an even more gorgeous girl,” he pauses as his phone goes off and a deep sigh leaves his lips when he checks the notification.

“I hate to depart like this, but duty calls.” He says backing away slowly, waving his phone in his hand. You go to give him his jacket, but he starts making a disapproving noise.

“I’m not supposed to take things from strangers, Gorgeous.” A sly smirk forms on his face before he spins around, gradually disappearing from your line of sight.

You shake your head, smiling to yourself, pulling the leather around you tighter as you begin to head back to your car, wondering if you’ll ever run into him again.

[wwooyology]

Sweet Talker | L.HS

「prompt」 : persuasion 「pairing」 : bf!heeseung x fem!reader 「word count」 : 0.8k

「synopsis」 : you and heeseung were never good for each other, but no matter how many times you’ve tried to leave, he would find some way to persuade you to stay just a little longer.

「genre」 : angst

「warnings」 : DARK THEMES!!!, heeseung is manipulative asf!, mentions of violence and blood, metal abuse/manipulation, gaslighting, threatening, pls pls lmk if I missed anything!!!!

「notes」 : this fic can be SEVERELY triggering for certain people, so please, for the love of god, make sure to read the warnings, and if you still proceed to read, be cautious!!! I AM NOT RESPONSIBLE FOR WHAT YOU CHOOSE TO READ!!!

masterlist ─ navi. ─ angstober list

You and Heeseung were like fire to ice, bound to only bring one another destruction. Yet, you could never leave, no matter how much you wanted to. Even when you promised your friends that you would finally end things, you never did. The excuse is always the same, but the light in your eyes dimmer every time.

“He told me that he would change.” That was the exact seven words that you would tell everyone, but in reality, Heeseung never changed. At least not in the way that you wanted him to; no if anything, the way he treated you got worse.

He never once physically put his hands on you; he believed that he was above that. But god, was he a complete mastermind when it came to mental manipulation. And he would do absolutely anything to make you stay with him, no matter the cost.

Just like today, when you came home to find him sitting at your kitchen table, wiping blood off of his busted knuckles. Your stomach dropped as you took in the sight, fear etching itself into your entire being as you sat your bag and keys on the counter.

“You’re back!” He greeted you with a wide grin, glancing up at you, and you nodded, lips curling inward. “Got into a bit of a fight with your friend, Jay, was it. You’ll help me bandage these, won’t you?” You felt your blood run cold at the mention of your best friend's name, eyes growing wide as you took in Heeseung’s appearance. There wasn’t a single scratch on him besides the busted lip he suited and bloody knuckles.

This means that Jay had to have been worse, and it made your stomach turn at the thought of what could have possibly happened.

“Y/n.” Heeseung’s voice pulled you out of your thoughts, causing your head to snap in his direction, tears pooling along your waterline. “Come help me,” he held up the first-aid kit, a smile on his lips, but you knew it was just a front, and you knew that you really shouldn’t push his buttons. “Please.”

Swallowing thickly, you walked over to the table and took the empty seat next to him, grabbing the first-aid kit. You kept your head down, refusing to meet his eyes as you worked on bandaging his hands.

Heeseung watched you with a keen eye, the corner of his lip twitching slightly when you pressed a little too hard on his knuckles before wrapping it. He let out a sigh, causing your body to tense, unsure of what he was going to say next.

“Don’t you see?” He asked, his voice cold as his hand gently grabbed your chin, making you look up at him. Your heart lurched in your chest when your eyes locked, “we’re meant to be together. That’s why I’m willing to do whatever it takes to keep us together.” His voice was like a forbidden melody, something you knew you shouldn’t be listening to but couldn't help but be drawn in.

“I-I know.” You stuttered, eyes searching his face as your hands balled into fists in your lap, heart thumping against your ribs.

Heeseung smiled sweetly, his thumb brushing over your cheek as his head tilted slightly. "Good girl,” he said.

And he would have you in the palm of his hand once more, forever tied to him all because you could never escape his sweet words.

“Now you know that you can’t hang out with him ever again. I’d hate to put him in the hospital again.” He pouted, feigning sadness as you looked at him with fear-filled eyes.

You nodded, unsure if you could even speak without all of the contents in your stomach coming back out. There was no way you could speak to any of your friends again, not if they were going to be put in harm's way because of Heeseung. So you could only agree in hopes that you would be able to keep all of your friends safe.

“I know, Hee. I won’t hang out with him or any of them again.” You promised, biting back tears as he smiled at you before leaning close. Your stomach turned violently as his lips pressed against your forehead, his hand wrapping around the back of your neck to pull you into him. He wrapped his arms around you, trapping your body against his in an embrace.

“See, I knew you would understand.” He praised you, running his fingers through your hair and it took everything in you to not burst out into tears.

You were too far into the wolf's den and couldn’t see the light anymore, but you knew that you could keep your friends safe this way, at least. And that’s what mattered to you the most. Even if you would be suffering for god, who knows how long.

@wwooyology | Do not steal, plagiarise, translate, or repost any of my work

𝖉𝖎𝖘𝖈𝖑𝖆𝖎𝖒𝖊𝖗 : ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ɴᴏ ᴡᴀʏ ᴀ ᴛʀᴜᴇ ʀᴇ��ʀᴇꜱᴇɴᴛᴀᴛɪᴏɴ ᴏꜰ ᴀɴʏ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ᴍᴇᴍʙᴇʀꜱ. ᴛʜɪꜱ ɪꜱ ᴘᴜʀᴇʟʏ ꜰɪᴄᴛɪᴏɴ ᴀɴᴅ ꜰᴏʀ ᴛʜᴇ ᴇɴᴊᴏʏᴍᴇɴᴛ ᴏꜰ ᴛʜᴇ ʀᴇᴀᴅᴇʀ ᴀɴᴅ ɴᴏᴛ ᴛᴏ ʙᴇ ᴛᴀᴋᴇɴ ꜱᴇʀɪᴏᴜꜱʟʏ.

[multi-fandoms-posts]

Distractions and Dynamics

X Men Masterlist

It's another morning at the X-Men headquarters, and the sun is shining through the large windows of the meeting room where Charles, Erik, and Y/N are preparing for today’s mission. They sit together, the tension before the upcoming operation palpable, but in their love triangle, there is always room for lightness even in serious moments.

Charles is reading the mission data from a tablet while Erik leans against the table with his arms crossed, listening intently. Y/N, on the other hand, is more relaxed, her eyes fixed on Erik and Charles, grinning as she absorbs the atmosphere.

“We need to focus,” Charles finally says, casting a warning glance at Y/N as he notices her thoughts drifting elsewhere.

“I’m right here with you, Professor,” Y/N replies, deliberately letting her gaze travel down Charles' face. Her eyes sparkle mischievously. “Right here.”

Charles raises his eyebrows slightly, but a small smile tugs at his lips. He’s used to Y/N breaking the tension with her words. Erik, however, remains serious, looking at the mission map in front of them.

“We can’t afford to take any risks this time. They’re dangerous,” Erik murmurs, but Y/N just grins wider.

“Dangerous? Oh, Erik,” she says, her voice a little lower, “I love it when you’re so serious and focused. It’s kind of… hot.”

Erik, who rarely reacts to provocations, raises an eyebrow slightly, but Y/N can see she’s struck a chord. Charles shakes his head with a smile. “Y/N, this isn’t a game.”

“It’s not a game, but a little fun never hurt anyone, right?” Y/N leans closer to Erik, her voice softer. “I mean, how am I supposed to focus on the mission when you’re sitting here looking so dangerously good?”

Erik tries not to react, but she notices the slight twitch at the corners of his mouth. “You know I’m serious, Y/N,” he says dryly.

“Oh, I know,” she replies with a sly grin. “But I also feel like I could make you smile anytime.”

Charles gently interjects, “We really should focus on the mission.” However, his blue eyes twinkle slightly as he looks at Y/N. “I know you can do it, even if Erik here is stealing your full attention.”

Y/N sighs dramatically. “You two are just too perfect. How am I supposed to concentrate?” She glances between them, her eyes full of playfulness. “I mean, one man is already a distraction. But two?”

Erik furrows his brow, but Y/N can see he’s trying not to smile. Charles gives Erik a knowing look as if to say: *Let her be.*

“It would be better if you don’t forget that we’re soon entering enemy territory,” Erik says in a quiet voice, though it still carries a certain edge. “There will be no time for jokes.”

“No jokes, but maybe a few suggestive comments?” Y/N winks at him, then straightens up, ready to go. “Okay, okay, I’ll stop. But only because I love you both. And because I’d like to see you both in action. Somehow… erotic.”

Erik rolls his eyes, but Charles laughs softly. “You’re impossible.”

---

The mission takes the trio to an old factory on the edge of town, taken over by hostile mutants. The plan is simple: Charles will mentally distract the guards while Erik manipulates metal supports to clear the way. Y/N stays in the middle, ready to react if anything goes wrong.

As they silently move through the corridors, Y/N keeps glancing from Erik to Charles and can’t help but whisper to Charles. “You know, once we’re done here, you really should consider taking off that shirt. It’s distracting.”

Charles stops and gives her an amused look. “This isn’t exactly the right time, Y/N.”

“Oh, I know,” she whispers back. “But now that I think about it… maybe Erik should also take off his shirt. You know, for… freedom of movement.”

Erik, having heard the whisper, also stops, his jaw clenched. “Y/N, focus,” he hisses, but she can see the slight sparkle in his eyes as if he’s slowly giving in to her playfulness.

“I’m focused,” she retorts. “But perhaps focused on the wrong thing.” She briefly closes her eyes and imagines the two men actually taking off their shirts. “Ah, what a pleasant thought.”

Charles can’t help but laugh quietly. “Erik, I think she’s figured us out. She knows how to drive us both crazy.”

“She does,” Erik murmurs, his voice rough, but he remains seriously focused on the task.

---

When they finally encounter the enemy group, the fight quickly spirals out of control. Guards rush at them, and Erik unleashes his powers, sending metal flying through the air. Charles focuses on influencing the opponents' thoughts, while Y/N uses her own powers to push their enemies back.

Despite the intense confrontation, Y/N can’t help but throw a comment into the quiet of the battle. “You know, Erik, the way you’re manipulating the metal…” She breathes heavily as she ducks to avoid an attack. “It’s really… sexy.”

Erik, just finishing off an opponent, glances at her quickly. “Focus on the fight, Y/N,” he calls out in a rough voice, but she can see he’s internally smiling.

Charles, also busy, can’t help but smile. “We should talk about your timing after this.”

Y/N dodges another attack before shooting back and throwing her enemy to the ground. “I think my timing is perfect. Didn’t you know adrenaline can increase desire?”

Erik groans softly as he hears this, while Charles just shakes his head, a laugh in his voice. “I wonder how you manage to confuse us both so much while we’re fighting.”

“Talent,” Y/N replies before she diving back into the fray.

[glassartpeasants]

I was doing a writing warm-up and made this piece. I kinda like it and might make a fic series about it if anyone is interested. Also, I call Kid 'Eustass' in this because it felt right for some reason?

Eustass Kid/ Trafalgar Law x F!Reader

warnings: Angst, small amount of blood, cheating, slut shaming maybe? Modern Au

~~~

“Does he think I’m a fucking idiot?! Does he think I can’t see the way his eyes follow girls’ asses as they walk by?” Gripping the edge of the bathroom sink, you struggle to hold back tears as you talk to your best friend on the other line.

“What am I doing wrong (....)? I’ve done everything right! I gave him all of me, and he’s out here eyeing other women!”

“That’s just the way he is (Y/N). I tried to warn you about him. You can’t change someone who doesn’t want to change.” You bite your lip as your body shakes. Emotion overwhelmed you to the point you could no longer hold back tears.

“I don’t understand. He told me he loved me and that he couldn’t imagine a life without me. He made me a matching ring to his. He promised me that his playboy days were over…”

“Well, if he’s staring at other girls, then obviously he broke his promise.”

~~~

You're feeling a lot more numb than you thought you would. At first, you thought you’d be yelling, crying, and screaming. Asking him why? But now that you're actually hearing his moans along with an unknown woman's echoing in your shared bedroom, no tears fall from your eyes. 

Maybe your heart and mind were mentally and emotionally ready for this. There were many signs he was starting to stray. Staring at other women, no longer being affectionate in public, you even saw him take off his ring once. He hasn’t done it again, but that was the last straw your heart could take when you tried to ignore the signs.

You should've known it’d end like this. He’s been a fuck boy all throughout high school and college. Slithering his way into vulnerable hearts and crushing them without a care about the people he’s heart. How you’ve been friends with him for so long and knowing what he was doing was something you criticized yourself for. 

While you weren’t best friends during high school and college, you both always had a class together. The two of you just ended up talking during each of them. Well, him hitting on you and you always telling him that you rather swim in hell’s flames than get with him. All throughout high school and college, he’d do this. In a way, you said no to avenge all the hearts he’s broken. But once college started, you accidentally started growing feelings for the idiot. Yet, you still said no until graduation day. He came up to you with a bouquet of roses made of metal that he made in shop class. Every rose was made individually, letting you pluck one out and hold it in your hands. Everyone in said class said he’d been working on it forever. Throwing away and remaking it more times than anyone could count. All to make sure it was perfect. It was then that you finally said yes. No one had done anything so thoughtful for you before. 

But when you told your best friend the news, she wasn’t happy.

“What?!”

“Listen, I know it sounds stupid-”

“That’s because it is stupid (Y/N)! We both know his past and how he still was before you agreed to go out with him! How are you sure he isn’t gonna do the same shit to you?!”

“He’s been asking me for years and actually made me this metal bouquet of flowers. Aren’t they beautiful, though?” Showing her the flowers, you watch her sigh. 

“What happens when he breaks your heart? What will you do then?” You were silent as you looked away from her. Her hands go to your shoulders, and it makes you look at her. 

“I just don’t want you crying over someone like him. I’m just worried about you, okay?”

“I know. Thank you for watching out for me. I’m going to give him a chance. Maybe he’s ready to grow up? But if I get my heart broken. Then you’ll get to say, ‘I told you so’.” Laughing at the last part, you pull (.....) into a hug and enjoy how you could always rely on her to be by your side.

Your eyes caught the metal bouquet on the kitchen table. The sun hit it just right to where it shined in your eyes. Furrowing your brows, an immediate disgust came over you as you looked at them. The one thing that had you thinking he’d changed was laughing at you and calling you a fool for falling for it.

Turning away from the bedroom door, you carefully and quietly walked to the metal sculpture. You pull one of the roses out from the vase they resided in and look at it. You twirled it with your fingers before gripping it tightly. Using your other hand, you encase the metal rosebud with the palm of your hand before twisting it harshly. 

The sharp metal cut into your hand as you ripped off the rose head. A small hiss escaped you, yet you continued. Putting down the first destroyed rose, you move on to the second one. Then the third, fourth, fifth, until every single rose had been ripped apart. By the time you were finished, the stems of the flowers were scattered across the kitchen table, as well as the blood-covered roses. A good representation of a broken heart if you say so.

You could still hear the moans coming from the bedroom, and the more you listened and paid attention, the more you swore you recognized the tone of voice. Tip-toeing to the door, you place your ear against the wood. Taking a few seconds, you listen carefully to try to pinpoint who it could be.

“Eustass~”

As soon as the words were heard, you felt your world shatter. That was (.....)’s voice. That was (.....) in there fucking your boyfriend. And your boyfriend was cheating on you with your best friend. The two people you cared about the most stabbing you in the back. It’s even worse knowing that (.....) was cheating on her own boyfriend, Trafalgar Law. The smartest person you’ve ever met. He was valedictorian in high school and had the highest grades in college. He's now a world known respected doctor who’s saved so many lives. Everything he’s done, and this is what happens to him? How could Eustass and (.....) pull this on you and Law?

A rage washed over you as soon as you heard her moan his name again. Grabbing your phone from your pocket, you unlock it and call Law. You thankfully had his number after a project you guys did together a month before college ended, and you just never remembered to delete it. 

“Come on, Law. Pick up.” Whispering, you cross your fingers.

“(Y/N)-ya? Why are you-”

“I really need you to stay on the line, okay? I’m going to facetime you now, alright?”

“What? Why? (Y/N)-ya, I have to go back to work-”

“(.....)’s cheating on you with my boyfriend right now as we speak. Don’t believe me? Listen!” You put your phone against the door, and all you heard was silence on Law’s side of the phone. A groan of (.....)’s name leaving Eustass’s mouth finally made you snap.

“That’s it!” Busting open the door, your met with a half-naked Eustass and a very naked (.....).

“Shit (Y/N)!”

“(Y/N)! It’s not what it looks like!” Clutching your phone tightly in your hand, you finally feel your anger bubble over.

“Don’t pull that shit with me! If your gonna be a backstabbing whore at least admit it! Fucking my boyfriend?! The boyfriend you hated?! Did you just want to fuck him the whole time?! How long has this been going on?!” You watched as (.....) scrambled to get her clothes on, and Eustass pushed his dick back in his pants.

“This is the only time it’s happened, I swear!”

“This is all an accident (Y/N), okay? I promise-”

“Oh, so your dick accidentally found its way into her? I don’t believe that for a second! And don’t tell me about your bullshit promises!” You can feel the cut on your hand finally start to sting as blood starts to puddle against the floor. The cut must have been much deeper than you originally thought.

“You're bleeding! (Y/N) are you okay?!-”

“Oh, don’t act like you care (.....)! If you actually cared, you wouldn’t be fucking my boyfriend in my bed! If you actually had a fucking heart, you wouldn’t have cheated on Law either!” The mention of Law's name has a look of horror appear on (.....)'s face.

“Please don’t tell him (Y/N)! I love him, and I don’t want him to leave me!”

“I’m breaking up with you.” (.....)’s face dropped when she realized Law heard everything. Tears start pouring down her face.

“That makes two of us.” You take off the ring Eustass gave you before walking over to (.....) Plopping it into her hand, you look at her with hatred and a disgusted smile.

“Obviously, this was meant for you since he loves you so much he can’t stop saying your name.” You grab the bag you left by the bedroom door before turning around and start to collect things around the apartment that you need.

“I’ll make sure to tell the landlord that my name’s off the lease and that I’ll gather my things tomorrow morning.” Holding everything you could gather at the moment, you make your way to the front door.

“Where do you think you're going?!” You feel Eustass grab your wrist and bring you closer to him. Looking into his eyes, you see panic, fear, and anger swirling around in them. 

“Leaving, obviously! I’m not gonna stay and shatter my heart more after seeing a man I loved, wanted to marry even, fucking my now ex-best friend.” The panic grew more evident as he pulled you to his chest. Both arms wrapped around you so you couldn’t leave.

“You can’t leave, alright! I know I fucked up, but please, let’s talk about this. She means nothing to me! She’s just some slut-”

“A slut you fucked knowing you were taken.” Tears started spilling from your eyes as you felt him hold you closer. 

“Why? Why would you do this to me? Why’d you say you loved me when you out fucking my best friend? How dare you hold me close and act like the stench of sex and her perfume isn’t surrounding you?”

“I’m outside in the car (Y/N).” Hearing Law’s voice shocked you as you remember you never hung up on him. He was so quiet, and you heard nothing on the other side of the line. Having him even show up was surprising, but you weren’t gonna throw away this opportunity to get away from Eustass and (.....). 

“Alright, be right there-”

“No, she won’t! Fuck off, Trafalgar, and take your bitch with you!” Eustass grabbed your phone and hung up before throwing your phone on the couch.

“Eustass! Are you-” You feel one of his hands push your head to his. His lips met yours, and you could feel the urgency in his kisses.

“Please don’t…leave me…” Kissing your between words only had your heart shattering more. How could he kiss you like he loves you after pulling a stunt like this?

It took almost everything inside you not to dig your fingers into his hair and kiss him back. You wanted it all to be a dream and that when you woke up, you’d be sleeping against his chest. 

Putting your hand against his bare chest, you feel his bare skin against your open wound. It made him pull away from his panicked kisses when he felt your bloody hand on his chest.

“Jesus (Y/N)! What happened?!”

“Doesn’t matter.”

“Stay here, I’m grabbing bandages!” Letting you go, you see him rush to the bathroom. Taking this chance, you grab your phone and start running out the door. Anything you can carry in tow, you run down the stairs as you hear (.....) scream your name and Eustass yelling at you to stop. 

But who was he to tell you what to do?

Bursting out the apartment complex’s door, you see Law’s car parked waiting for you. Using all your strength, you run as fast as you can. Grabbing the car door, You swung it open before slamming it shut. Everything you brought with you on your lap.

“Drive!” Wasting no time, Law stomps on the gas, and as you see Eustass run out of the apartment, watching you and Law drive away.

~~~

If you guys do want this to be an actual fic series, let me know cause this concept is quite interesting to me.

[pasdasin]

Wicked Game

wolverine x vampire!reader

an: wowowowow im so so happy yall are liking this, i found a discrepancy already from previous chapters so pls don't think too hard about the time line bc honestly idk where we are even at either!!

ch 4

warnings: cussing, Logan is mean to Charles, blood mentioned, idk what else

previous -- next

~~~~~

The feeling of the blood sticking to your body made you feel dizzy. It had been so long since you had fed from a person, let alone Logan and you wanted more. You needed more. Frenzied was the only true way to describe how you felt. You needed to eat.

A hundred and fifty years of denying your primal instinct finally caught up to you. You had a taste for warm, orgasmic blood and you were willing to do anything you could to get more. 

You wandered the walls aimlessly, thankful for the final exams happening the next day. You stumbled around, pupils blown wide as you frantically searched for your next meal. Anything with a beating heart would do, you just needed that sweet, metallic liquid. 

Where are you going y/n? You turned your head, the voice startling you. Come to my room.

Desperately you chased the soundless voice. You chased it, listening to the beating hearts of the children sleeping peacefully in the dormitories. Finally you reached him, Charles.

You entered the room and paused, suddenly aware of your appearance and mental state. 

“Oh my god. I’m-”

“Enough y/n. Sit.” He mentioned to the end of his bed. “You won’t hurt me. I trust you”

You listened to his instruction, shakily sitting and playing with your hands. 

“There you go. You are very loud tonight, drowning out the sounds of everyone else. I can now see why.” You stared at him silently, bringing your hand up to wipe your mouth of the dried blood. “Have you thought about my offer? Are you willing to go?”

“I think I have to go” You told him, thinking about Logan. 

“Are you sure? You know where you’ll end up don’t you?” You stared at him and nodded.

“If I don’t, this will happen again. I’ll drain him dry.”

“I understand why you feel shame. What happened to those girls were not your fault. You are not a monster.”

“We both know that's a lie, Charles.”

“Then avenge them” You let the words sink into your soul. This would be the only way you could truly live with yourself. “Kill the man who did this to you. Alex doesn’t know. Just us.”

Charles wasn’t comfortable with the death of mutants. You knew that all too well. Killing this man would give him piece of mind. Using your hands to do it would give him deniability if anything were to go wrong. 

You understood what this meant to him. But to you this was closure. You will kill the man who tortured you. 

---

The next morning you sat in  the passenger seats of the blackbird and watched as the ground grow smaller. Alex was controlling the jet for the most part, occasionally asking you to flip a lever or press a button. He didn’t talk much the flight over, noticing how you were in a completely different headspace than him. 

The flight was relatively quick considering the distance traveled, you’d have to remember Hank for upgrading the jet’s engines. As Alex landed the jet in the private airfield owned by the Xavier family estate, you stared out the window recalling the last time you were in London. 1913, right before the first world war. By then, Logan was taken by the scientists for the weapon x project. It was just you wandering the streets, searching for any trace of him. 

“Did you hear anything I just said?” You snapped your head to Alex. “You’re lucky you’re hot” You frowned at his response. “I said that the hotel is just a fifteen minute walk from here. I already put the jet in conceal mode, so are you ready or are we gonna stare at that tree for like thirty more minutes?”

“You don’t have to be such an ass about it.” You told him, unbuckling your seatbelt and joining him off the jet. 

“I just like to tease you okay? Lets get going” He said, holding out his hand to you. Raising your eyebrow at the gesture, he sighed. “We are supposed to be a couple on their honeymoon. Did Charles tell you anything?”

You grabbed his hand but it felt wrong. It wasn’t as warm as Logan’s or big. Alex was soft and comforting, but not in the way you found Logan’s hand. You weren’t sure why this feeling was creeping into your heart, but maybe it was because this was the first time someone other than Logan touched you like this, ever. 

Chalking it up to the fake intimacy of it all, you put on a brave face and walked in step with him, heading to the hotel.

---

“You better speak up you wheelchair fuck. Where the hell did. you. send. Her?” Logan was stuck in his own frenzy now. Angry at you for up and leaving. Angry at Alex for being a dick head flirt. Angry at the bald man in front of him for not explaining a thing.

“Logan, calm down. y/n is safe with Alex. They are just doing recon on a uprising mutant cult in London.”

“You should’ve sent me, not her” He growled. 

“Why do you care so much Logan?” Charles wheeled closer to Logan, not afraid of what he was capable of. 

“I don’t care!” Even Logan couldn’t believe himself. It was pathetic really. Denying himself the pleasure of her love, but indulging in every intimate interaction they had. He had been in love with her for so long, but something was holding him back. 

Maybe it was the fear of not having his feelings returned. Or maybe even the fear of loosing his oldest companion, the one person who had never judged him. 

“London. She is at 578 Trekshile road, the hotel. Room 327.” Charles told Logan, hearing his inner dialogue. “I have tasked her with killing Morgue.” 

His eyes snapped to the Professor. “What?”

“Go to her if you must.” With that, Charles left the room. Logan was stunned. Morgue was the cruelest person he had ever encountered. You had spent years with him until you had found Logan after the weapon x program ended. From your stories, Logan should’ve killed him years ago. 

All he had to do now was find a way to London. Luckily for him, the silhouette of a blue, devil tailed boy had walked passed the door.

“Kurt, come here I need a favor”

~~~~

Tag list: @captain039 @twinky-wink @fuckmachine42069 @honeybeedrabble

an: kurt my baby <3, also Morgue is my oc, based on Morgz 💀(only in name)

[writtenbyan-aries]

Okay, I know you have tons of requests BUT, I need a god dang FILTHY Sam smut, idk if you say the most recent react video where he said FUCKING YOU the way he did but holy shit. I don’t care what the plot is, I just need dom Sam asap 😩👏🏻🖤

Summary: After going there separate ways for a few years, Sam and reader finally reunite, but it’s not like anyone expected.

Warnings: SMUT18+, strong language, criminal!reader, cop!Sam, mentions of guns and maybe other weapons, mentions of smoking weed/drinking alcohol, mentions of other drugs, talk of [small] crimes, forbidden love?, angsty, slight verbal altercations, kissing, hair pulling, choking, biting, oral (m rec), semi rough actions, creampie, filth - read with care my babies 🖤

Word Count: 4.5k | unedited

This was the only Sam request that I could find in my ask box - so with that being said the video that is referenced in the request, is no longer new.

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Ｓａｔｕｒｄａｙ • Ｎｉｇｈｔ

“Is it just me..” you take a drag of the joint and hold it for a few seconds as you look around, “Or is this party actually not as fun as we thought it was going to be.”

“Yeah.” Your friend, Jaime scoffs, “You’re telling me.” They reach over, taking the burning object from in between your fingers, “There was supposed to be more people.“

You look around, raising your brows, “Theres like fifty people here, Jaim.”

“Do you want a drink?” They looks at you and you shake your head, “No, I think I’m going to start walking home soon.”

“What?” They look at you confused, “Why? Are you okay?”

You feel sick, like something is going to happen sick, and that doesn’t happen often, so when it does, you’re on edge, “Y-yeah. I just-“

“What? You have to get up early and get ready for work?” The fellow criminal laughs, “Please. Just one drink and then you can leave, okay?”

You stand up as you finish the joint that was passed back to you, “I need to pee.”

You ignore your name being called as you make your way towards the steps of the abandoned warehouse. your footsteps clunk down the old metal stairs as you make your way down.

Red and blue lights fill the empty warehouse through the broken and clear plastic covered window and you instantly panic, “Fuck fuck, fuck.”

You run towards the back, but you hear footsteps quickly making their way along side of the building with indistinguishable chatter.

You look around, already hearing and seeing people flee, “Shit.” You go into the old office, ducking down behind the filing cabinet.

If you get caught, you’re going to jail - end of story.

You mentally curse yourself, telling yourself that you should have just stayed at home.

“You check in there.”

“Got it.”

You hear the door creak open and a voice immediately follows, “If any is in here, come out with your hands raised. Now.”

You’re frozen. Unable to move.

A bright light blinds you from seeing anything else as the cop finds you, “Get up.”

You slowly move your shaking hand away from your face, and as you go to stand up and the light disappears, “Y/n?” You feel hands on your arms, pulling you back down to the floor, “Y/n, what are you doing here?”

Once your eyes adjust from the blinding light, you tense up again, “S-Sam?”

Sam was the first person you ever fell in love with, but once high school graduation happened, you parted ways, but Sam always promised to find you.

Six years later - here you are.

“Y/n.” Sam snaps you from your thoughts and you focus on him, watching as he looks around before leaning in, “Go.”

“What?” You shake your head, “N-no I-“

“I’m serious. You need to go, now.” He pulls you to your feet, “Listen to me. You need to run. They already called in more units, you need to go.” He pushes you towards the back door, “Now.”

“Where?” You manage to get out and he shrugs, “Just get the fuck out of here. I’ll find you.” He pushes you towards the door, reaching behind you to push it open, “I promise. Now go.”

And you went. Running as fast as you could, unsure of where you were headed. All you could think about was Sam and how differently your lives were, more or less on your side.

You were in line to be a nurse. Perfect attendance, perfect grades, you were labeled the nerd of your college freshman class. The sophomore year came around, you fell in with a very, wrong crowd.

That led you to fell in love with the way alcohol and weed numbed you, then it turned into you partying and opening more bottles than books.

You lost your job, your apartment, you had to drop out of school. Seeing Sam really made you realize just how off the beaten path you really were.

You come to a sudden halt when you reach road, almost eating the dirt. The flashing blue and red lights approaching, cause you to run back into the woods and duck behind some trees until they pass.

You let go of the breath you held, breathing rapidly as you try to finally catch your breath from the running.

“Y/n?”

Your head snaps over and you see Jaime, “Y/n?”

“Over here.” You wave them over and they duck down with you, “I seen you dart out the back, how did you get past those cops downstairs?”

“I was already outside when I see the lights. I just took off.” You swallow, “Who called?”

“Probably some asshole who doesn’t know what fun is.” They laugh and look around, “This is 290. If we walk that way, it’ll take us back to the motel.”

You nod, standing up as you glance back towards the building, “Okay.” You motion, “We should stay in the trees, through. They’ll probably patrol, you know?”

“They always do.”

——

Ｗｅｄｎｅｓｄａｙ

Every day, for the last four days, you’ve been thinking about Sam. Your mind hasn’t really gone elsewhere, other than to where you’re going to be sleeping that night.

You hated yourself, hated the way Sam found you.

You couldn’t fight off the anxious feeling, no amount of weed helped calmed your nerves. You needed to see Sam, and you were going to do whatever it takes.

“What are your plans for tonight?” Jaime asks as they sit down on the bed next to yours, “I might just stay in.”

You nod, “Yeah, that’s probably what I’ll do.” You roll over, letting out a sigh and Jaime notices, “You’ve been off. You good?”

You nod, “Just tired.”

You weren’t talking about needing sleep. You were sick of how you were. Broke, always needing to be drunk or high. You haven’t stole anything in a while, mainly because the last jail you were in was rough.

You needed help, but you didn’t want just anyone’s help.

“I want to go home, but I don’t even know where home is anymore.” You sigh, sitting up, “I want to get better. No more motel rooms and random friend’s cars.”

“How do you plan on doing that? The cops have to know we were both at that warehouse last night. That’s a trespassing. At least a misdemeanor.” Jaime argues, “You walk out there and you’re bound to get picked up.”

“I didn’t even want to be there last night. You’re the one who begged and begged for me to go then got pissy with me until I finally agreed.” You stand up, turning to face them, “I really wouldn’t be where I’m at if I haven’t met that stupid fucking cousin of yours.”

“You fell into this cycle yourself, y/n. Don’t try and blame Cassidy because you’re the one who’s, too much of a fucking pussy to just stop drinking or smoking.” Jaime’s stare holds on you and you clench your jaw, “Fuck you. I’m fucking done.”

You grab your backpack, stuffing what little you have inside before slinging it over your shoulder. Jaime, at this point, is back tracking, trying to take back what they had said but it was already, too late.

“N-no please, y/n wait. You can’t- I’m so-sorry.” They plead as they walk up to you, “Y/n. I-I can’t do thi-“

“I’m not going to throw your name under the bus if that’s what you’re worried about.” You keep your stare at the floor, “I made a promise to you, and as of right now, I don’t know where you’re at.”

You look up at them and they nod, “Thank you.”

“Mm.” You raise your brows, twisting the knob before opening the door, “See you around, I guess.”

“You won’t.” Jaime laughs, “Take care of yourself, y/n.”

You turn, looking up at them, “You, too, Jaim.”

You step out, throwing up your hood before walking away. You couldn’t lie, you were paranoid as hell. You didn’t want to go back to jail, or get another misdemeanor or worse.

You needed to find Sam.

After a little bit of walking towards the city, you hear the sound of a car coming up behind you. You clench your fists, keeping your pace as you see it slow down next to you, “Y/n.”

You stop and turn to look at Sam, and before you can say anything, he motions, “Get in.” Without any hesitation, you walk around and get in.

“I’ve been looking everywhere for you.” He glances over at you as he starts driving, “Where were you?”

“At the motel back there.” You motion, “I was with a friend.” Sam nods, “Were you safe, at least? I-“ he stops talking and you take a quiet breath, “Ask.”

He shakes his head, “Those people you were with at that party, did you know they had hard drugs?”

You shake your head, “No. I didn’t. It was just supposed to be a small get together. Some beer, weed. I didn’t expect fifty some people and hard drugs to show up.”

“You need to lay low for a few days.”

“Are they looking for me?” Your heart starts to beat harder as Sam looks over at you, “As of right now, no. They’re only focused on finding out where the drugs came from, but they can turn on you at any second, y/n. I know how these people are.”

“These people, happen to be the ones that held me up at my lowest.” You argue and Sam scoffs, “What, when you were so crossfaded you couldn’t stand?”

He was right, but it still hurt coming from him.

“Sorry, that..” he shakes his head and you sigh, “No, no. You’re right.” You look out the window, “I think we’re both in a sort of shock seeing each other again.”

The tone in Sam’s voice makes your heart shatter, “You dropped off the face of the earth, y/n.”

“I know.” Your voice is quiet and your stare is on the floor. Sam takes a deep breath, “You still look good, though.” You glance over at him, smirking slightly as you shake your head, “Better than my rap sheet.”

“Petty theft.” He shrugs, “Now if you robbed a bank, then we’d have a problem.”

“Don’t we already?” You look over at him and he looks at you confused, “What do you mean, y/n?”

“isn’t it obvious? You’re a cop. I’m labeled a criminal. Those things usually aren’t things you’d see together outside the walls of a police station, right.”

“The last time you stole anything was three years ago, y/n, and the woman dropped the charges.” Sam sighs, “I understand if you don’t trust me, right now. But I’ll do whatever it takes for you to understand that I am trying to help you. I miss you, I lo-“

You look over at him, “What?”

“I would love to help you get back onto your feet. You’re still a smart, beautiful girl and I know in my heart, that you want to get better.”

“I do.”

“So let me help you, y/n. You can stop running.” Sam comes to a stop outside a fancy looking building and you lean forward, taking it in for a second, “You live here?”

You look over at Sam and he nods, “Come on.”

He gets out of the car, grabbing your backpack before you could, and he walks around to your door, opening it up for you.

He leads you inside, up to the fourth floor where his apartment resides, “Just at the end of this hall.” You nod, looking around at the fancy painted numbers on the plaque next to the doors.

“Here we are.” Sam unlocks his door and pushes it open, “Go ahead.” You look from him to the open doorway, slowly walking in as he follows behind you.

“If you want, and please stop me if I overstep, but we can live here, together.” Sam slowly walks up behind you, “I meant it when I said I’d find you.”

You turn around to look up at him. You blink as your eyes fill up with tears, “I-I..” you step back, “Sam. I can’t put you at risk for someone like me and my bad reputation.”

“Y/n.” Sam’s eyes scan over your face and he takes a deep breath, “I never stopped loving you. Even after I lost contact with you.” He slowly reaches up, his hands laying against your cheeks, “I swore that I’d use whatever I learned in the academy to find you.” His thumb strokes your cheek and as much as you want to pull away from his touch, you can’t help but lean into it.

“I’d risk it all for you.” Sam whispers, “I thought you died. I was checking death records, calling around to other cities, giving out your description to hospitals.” He sighs, shaking his head, “I needed to know where you were.”

“Sam.” You go to push him away and he steps back, “You don’t have to be afraid anymore.”

“I’m not, afraid.”

“Yeah, you are.” He nods, “You’re scared of the way I make you feel because you don’t want to feel anything anymore.”

“I want to get better.” You mumble, tears spilling from your cheeks. But that wasn’t the only thing that spilled, “I convinced myself that you would hate me, that you did hate me. You were going to do great things with your life, and you clearly proven that to be correct, and I can’t fuck that up for you now because that’s what I do, Sam. I fuck up. Everything.”

You take a deep, shaky breath, “I’ve stolen. I’ve lied. I’ve ran from other cops. I’ve been to jail, I-“ you shake your head, looking up at Sam, “You don’t want me.”

“I always want you.” Sam shrugs, laughing slightly, “I don’t know if you’re trying to scare me away, but I promise you, I’ve seen worse than this, y/n.”

He walks over and you stay still, “We can get you through this. We can get you back on top. Anything it takes.”

“Everyone in my life has left me like I was nothing.”

Sam frowns at your words, “You’re everything to me.” He slides his hands up, running his fingers through your hair, “Literally, everything.”

“How long until this blows over?”

He shrugs, “Few days? I go into work tomorrow, I work first the rest of this week, but I’ll find out. Okay? We will get you through this.”

You nod, your mind racing a mile a minute, “Okay.” You let out a sigh, “Can I shower or something?” You motion to your backpack, “I’ll also nee-“

“Hey. Whatever you need. Okay?” Sam raises his brows, “And don’t apologize for anything.”

You laugh slightly, nodding your head as you look up at him, “Thank you for not giving up on me, Sam.” You walk over, wrapping your arms around him.

He kisses your head and tightens his arms, “Mm, your hair smells good.”

“That’s probably the only good thing about that motel, the soap smells amazing.” You laugh as you lean back, wiping the tears from your face before Sam leads you to the bathroom to show you how the shower works.

(A/n, please tell me I am not the only one who gets anxiety with other people’s showers and not knowing how to work them.)

——

Ｆｒｉｄａｙ

You slept through Sam getting up for work, even him kissing your head. The past few days you haven’t slept well, and it finally caught up with you.

Sam let you sleep because he knew you needed it, too.

After getting up, you sit up and look around. You still can’t believe that after all these years, you and Sam have found one another.

You can’t help but smile thinking about it, him. You loved being around him because, even after all these years, he’s your safe space.

You get out of bed, making your way to the kitchen to get coffee. Sam has made it every morning for you since you agreed to stay.

As you bring your mug to your lips, you spot a box and a note on the counter.

Y/n

I stopped after work yesterday and got you this. You don’t have to accept it. I just figured you’d want something to stay in touch while I’m at work.

Sam

You smile as you lay the note back down, bringing the box closer before opening it. You pull out the phone and turn it on.

Your heart skips a beat when you see an old picture of you and Sam set as the lockscreen, and you can’t help but tear up.

Sam truly does love you.

You go into contacts, and just as you suspected, Sam is the only contact. You sit down on the stool as you tap the message icon, You didn’t have to, but thank you so much, Sam.

You set the phone down, reaching over to bring your coffee closer and you get a text back from Sam, I wanted to. I figured it would help things.

You sip your coffee and take a deep breath, I never stopped loving you either.

You straighten up, clearing your throat as you start to type, but stop when you see Sam’s text come through, I’m so happy to hear that, y/n. I just don’t want you to think I’m buying your love or anything like that.

You’re not, I know that, you stand up as you walk over to the couch, plopping down to turn the tv on.

You text Sam back and forth for a little while, mainly asking him how work is and updating him about what is playing on the tv.

Silly stuff, but you both loved it.

——

“Hey.” Sam whispers as he tries to wake you up, “Y/n, I’m home.”

You blink a few times, stretching as you sit up, “Oh hey. Sorry, I must have passed out again.” He shakes his head as he sits down next to you, “You’re fine, sweetheart.”

Your eyes scan over his uniform, you couldn’t lie, seeing Sam in it was such a turn on for you.

“Is that okay?”

You look up at Sam, blinking as you shake your head, “S-sorry.. what’s okay?”

He chuckles, “I asked if you wanted me to order in for dinner?” You nod, “Yeah, that’s fine.”

He nods, “Okay. What were you thinking?” You tilt your head, smirking slightly, “If you want my honest answer, I’m not really thinking about dinner.”

He raises his brows and leans back. His arms stretched out on the top of the couch, “What are you thinking about then?”

Your eyes scan up his body, stopping on his name badge before you turn towards him, “How good you look in this uniform.”

He bites down on his lower lip, slowly pulling it from his teeth’s grasp as you crawl towards him. His eyes shoot down to your hand lying on top of his thigh, “You know what I’m thinking about?”

You shrug, “I could guess..”

He chuckles, reaching up to pull you onto his lap, “Just how much I miss fucking you.” He pulls you in, your lips connect with his and there’s instant fire.

You grind down onto him and his hands fly to your ass, squeezing and groaning as he bucks his hips upward, “You sure you want to do this?”

“You are the one thing I’ve always been sure about, Sam.” You smile, running your hand through his hair and he nods, “Okay.”

He pushes you back onto the couch, his hips resting between your legs, “Seeing you in my shirts.” He kisses down your neck, “In my bed.” He kisses back up your neck as his hand slips under the shirt on your body, “Been fighting the urge to even kiss you.”

You moan quietly as his fingers twist and pull at your nipples, “Sam.”

“I’m right here, baby.” He moves to kneed the mound of flesh, “M’not goin’ anywhere.”

His lips press to yours and your legs tighten around his waist. Your hands move to unbutton his uniform top, pulling it to untuck from the hold of his belt, “Need you. Been too long.”

He chuckles as he leans up to push his shirt down his shoulders, “I don’t want to rush anything, sweetheart.” He takes off his fitted white tee and throws it.

Your hands slide up his chest and you pull him back in by the neck, “I trust you.”

He smiles before kissing you, his other hand sliding up your leg and dipping down in between to pull your panties to the side. He groans against your lips as he drags his middle finger through your folds, “God, you are soaked.”

“Have you seen what you look like in your uniform, you’d be wet, too.” You giggle at the words and Sam just stares at you with a smile, “I.. will take your word for it.” He chuckles as he leans into kiss up your neck the same time his finger pushes into you.

You gasp out, hands squeezing his biceps. He kisses up to your ear, his voice low as he adds a second finger, “That feel good, baby?”

You nod, lips parted as he curls them upward, “Uh h-huh.” You turn your head, desperate for his lips on yours. You roll your hips, moaning into his mouth as he works his hand faster, thrusting in and out.

You arch your back, moaning out as his thumb brushes over your clit, “F-fuck. Sam.” You moan louder, “Almost there.”

“All you baby, whenever you want.” He presses kisses to your cheek, “You’re so fucking hot.” He groans lowly as he grinds his hips against your leg.

“f-fu-“ You let out a long and loud moan as you start to slowly come undone, whimpering and gasping out as he guides you through the high.

His hand is quickly withdrawn from between your legs and he works faster to undo his belt and get his pants off.

You sit up, reaching forward to pull him towards you by the band of his boxers. He watches down, chest rising and falling quickly with anticipation of your next move.

You pull them down, freeing his cock and instantly leaning down to swirl your tongue around the tip. Sam gasps as his knees buckle and his hand goes to the back of your head, “O-oh fuck.”

You work at taking him in, swirling your tongue and groaning as you clench around nothing. You bob your head in a slowly steady rhythm, leaning back to look up at him and it’s a sight that makes Sam absolutely weak.

“Don’t look at me like that.” He smirks and you lean back, hand still pumping his cock, “Like what, baby?”

He chuckles and pushes your head back down, “You know what.” He groans as you push your head down as far as you can, gagging around him slightly before lifting your head and repeating the process.

“That’s my girl, fuck.” Sam’s eyes close for a few seconds but reopen to watch you, “Still the best.”

You lean back, smirking up at him and he pushes you back, pushing your legs open with his knee. He dips his head down to kiss you as you feel the head of his cock rub against your clit.

Before you can plead for anything, his cock slips in past your folds and you moan out loudly as you feel his hips rest against yours.

“Feels like I’m taking you all over again.” His voice is low as he groans, “Still my pussy.”

You gasp out as you feel him pull out and slide back in, “Still yours.” You nod as you lay a hand on his cheek, moaning out loudly as his thrusts pick up speed.

Your eyes roll back and your back arches off the couch, “Fuuuck.” You whine out, “Yesyesyes.”

Sam reaches up, pulling your head down with his fingers on your chin, “Look at me, sweetheart.”

Your eyes open and your lips part as your moan breathlessly, “Feels so good.”

He smirks quickly before moaning, “Fuck, y/n.” His hand grips your waist, “Fuck. Fuck. You make me want to cum and I don’t want to just yet.”

You whimper, “M’so close again, Sam.” You wrap your arms around his neck, moaning out as your legs follow around his waist.

Sam’s grip on the back of the couch tight as he groans, “Just a little.. bit longer.. can you wait for me?”

“Y-yes.” You whimper out, clenching your walls around his cock, “F-fuck.”

“Doing so good, taking me so well.” Sam’s words fuel the fire you’re trying to hold back, “So fucking good, baby.”

You whimper, bringing his hand to your throat. Your vision slightly turns blurry from a mix of his tight grip and the orgasm that’s slowly making its way to center stage, “S-Sam.”

“Do you wa-“

“Keep going.” You manage to squeak out. Your eyes roll back and you can’t hold it anymore. Silent moans slip through your parted lips and you can feel your thighs growing wetter with each one of his thrusts.

Sam lets go of your throat as his cock twitches inside of you, pushing his cum deeper as his thrusts slow down.

He pulls out, planting a kiss to your forehead before he sits down by your feet. His eyes scan up your legs, admiring the mess that you two had made together.

You sit up, cheeks growing red as you notice what he was looking at. He smirks and shakes his head as he leans over, “Don’t be embarrassed, sweetheart. I think it’s hot when you make a mess like this.”

You smile and shake your head, “Whatever you say.”

“I say..” he stands up, pulling you with him, “That we go get a shower and then order some dinner.” He wraps his arms around your waist, “And I’ll have dessert while we wait.”

He attacks your neck and you can’t help but laugh, “Sounds like a good plan to me.”

─── ⋆⋅ ☾⋅⋆ ───

Idk why I feel like this sucks, but I’ll leave it up to you to tell me what you think! Thank you so much for reading and as always, I love you! See you in the next one!

Likes and reblogs are majorly appreciated!

[cherryblossomcowgirl]

my tears ricochet

Inspired by Taylor Swift “my tears ricochet”

MASTERLIST PINNED

WC: 1.4k

Warnings: cheating; breakup; fighting; angst; swearing

.

.

We gather here, we line up, weepin' in a sunlit room

And if I'm on fire, you'll be made of ashes too

Even on my worst day, did I deserve, babe

All the hell you gave me?

'Cause I loved you, I swear I loved you

'Til my dying day

.

.

It took him 4 minutes to walk away from the last 2 years. 240 seconds to say goodbye. He didn’t even come inside. He stood on the front porch, like a coward. I followed him as he walked to his truck. I screamed his name between sobs. He started the engine and drove away.

.

.

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

And you're the hero flying around, saving face

.

.

*2 months later*

I take a deep breath and call Bradley. He is outside 10 minutes later, ready to drive me to the bar. “Thanks, B. I didn’t want to walk in alone, but I really miss everyone.” He smiles, “I told you I am always here for you. I mean it. They all miss you too.” I mentally prepare myself to see Jake for this first time since that night. We haven’t spoken. He hasn’t even come to pickup his things. Bradley parks the Bronco and we walk into the Hard Deck. The team immediately spots us and waves us over to the pool table. Phoenix wraps me in a hug, “Y/n! It’s been too long!” “Hey Phe.” I smile and Bradley brings me a drink. The evening is nice. Everyone is chatting and shooting pool. I see Bradley’s posture stiffen and I turn to see Jake walking towards the group. He puts on his big old smile and greets everyone. His eyes meet mine and he just smiles. I roll my eyes and watch him put on his show. Darts, pool, his general asshole demeanor. Bob comes over and pats my back, “Happy you’re here, Y/n. I was so sad when Jake told us you left. Thought I wouldn’t see you around anymore.” I laugh, “So that’s his story, funny.” Bob raises his eyebrow and I notice the rest of the group getting quiet, trying to listen. I speak a little louder, not caring who hears, “I’m saying it’s funny because he just stood outside the door one night and said he ‘couldn’t do this anymore’. Then he drove away. Like a coward.” The group is silent and I see Jake’s cheeks go red. I raise my glass towards him and take a sip of my drink.

.

.

And if I'm dead to you, why are you at the wake?

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed

Look at how my tears ricochet

.

.

*4 months later*

Phoenix decides to throw a party for me officially finishing my residency. We end up at the Hard Deck, like always. Bradley and I spend most of the night dancing. I’m not sure what is growing between us, but I like it. He is sweet. He is thoughtful. He is gentle. He is the exact opposite of what I am used to. We finish our dance and head back to the group only to see Jake playing pool. His eyes meet mine and I see something in them I haven’t before, heartache.

.

.

We gather stones, never knowing what they'll mean

Some to throw, some to make a diamond ring

You know I didn't want to have to haunt you

But what a ghostly scene

You wear the same jewels that I gave you

As you bury me

.

.

*6 months later*

Things with Bradley moved fast. He officially asked me out right after Phoenix’s party and we have been inseparable since. He had always been such a good friend to me that it just felt natural. It felt safe. And now here we are, celebrating our engagement at the Hard Deck. I came home after doing my first major surgery without my mentor and he was there waiting for me. “B, you didn’t have to! I know you wanted to go see everyone.” He kisses me, “I wanted to wait for you! How did it go?” I tell him about the surgery in great detail. He stands in the bathroom as I shower to listen to my story. He hangs on every word. I start to get ready and realize my lucky scrub cap isn’t on its hook. He watches as I look for it, seeing it on the foot of the bed. I pick it up, “Can’t lose this.” He smiles. I feel something cold and metallic. I turn it around to see a ring. Bradley gets down on one knee, “Y/n, it’s you. You’re everything I want. Everything I need. I need you by my side until my dying day. Will you marry me?” I nod my head yes and get down with him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He kisses me, “I’m really happy you said yes, it would’ve been so awkward going to celebrate with our friends if you said no.” I laugh and follow him to the Bronco, glancing at the beautiful ring on my left hand. We walk into the Hard Deck to see that Penny has put up banners and balloons to celebrate. I hug her tight, “You are the sweetest. Thank you.” She kisses my cheek, “You deserve this.” I walk over to our friends and they is a chorus of congratulations. Bradley heads to the bathroom and Jake walks over from the dart board. He is wearing the St. Michael necklace I got him for his birthday. The patron saint of the military and doctors. The saint of protection. Of courage. Of leadership. He clears his throat, “Congratulations, Y/n. I am happy for you.” He smiles but his eyes look dreary. He isn’t clean shaven and his hair is disheveled. I put my hand on his shoulder, “Thanks, Jake.”

.

.

And I can go anywhere I want

Anywhere I want, just not home

And you can aim for my heart, go for blood

But you would still miss me in your bones

And I still talk to you (when I'm screaming at the sky)

And when you can't sleep at night (you hear my stolen lullabies)

.

.

I notice Jake distancing himself from the group slowly. When he is around, he keeps to himself. Part of me feels bad for him, but then I remember what he did. How he threw us away. I remember the messages I got from a random instagram account. A woman who apologized. She didn’t know he had a girlfriend. He hadn’t told her. My heart feels heavy remembering the pain. Then there’s B. B who writes me letters every day he is deployed. B who puts little post it notes of encouragement in my lucky scrub cap. B who loves me with everything he has.

.

.

I didn't have it in myself to go with grace

And so the battleships will sink beneath the waves

You had to kill me, but it killed you just the same

Cursing my name, wishing I stayed

You turned into your worst fears

.

.

Bradley is deployed and I miss him so much. I start drifting off to sleep on the couch when the doorbell rings. I turn on the porch light and open the door. Jake is standing there, looking at his feet. I step out onto the porch so that Bradley can see whatever this is on the Ring camera. “Jake? What are you doing here?” “I wanted to tell you that I am PCSing. Norfolk. Next week.” “Oh. Okay. Well, take care of yourself Jake.” He sighs, “I am sorry. For everything.” I cut him off, “Jake you don’t have to-“ “No, please. I need to say this. Y/n, I became the guy I never wanted to be. I could barely face you after what I did. And then Bradshaw, I saw how he looked at you. How he treated you. I had that. I threw that away. Y/n, I am going to regret what happened between us for the rest of my life.” My eyes water and he continues, “I wish you nothing but the best, okay?” He hugs me and I sniffle, “You too, Jake. Be safe up there.” He starts walking towards his truck and looks back, “I spent so long competing with Bradshaw and I thought we were just alike. Now I can see he is so many things that I will never be.”

[gremlinmodetweeker]

I don't know if you're taking request right now, so please excuse me if this is bad timing. The way you right Simon is so, so, so, well. Your Ghost Icks and that other one-shot of him buying a snake was chefs kiss. You capture him unlike the other writers here. My request is about relationships, how would a first kiss between Ghost and the reader would be? It can be in any scenario really. Like a fifth or sixth date (if they go on one). I apologize if this ask is not of your time.

Okay so I'm so so sorry for this taking so much time, but I think this little ficlet took a bit longer to put together than I expected. Sometimes I get a little mental block and for some reason I just kept getting stuck! However, I figured that this might be a good little story to work with, so enjoy this little drabble I wrote!

“Simon?”

“Yeah?”

“Why aren’t you inside?”

Your boyfriend shifted side to side as he tried to think of a reasonable answer. Anything would be ncier than the truth. Anything would be easier, but how could he tell you?

“I just like lookin’ at the stars,” Simon whispered as you stepped out to stand on the balcony with him.

“Didn’t take you for much of an astronomer,” you muttered as you carefully stood by his side.

“I’m not,” he chuffed.

You gave him a tight smile, “I know.”

Simon’s eyes crawled over your form before darting back to the warm light coming from indoors. A peel of laughter fluttered against the glass door, muffled by snow outside.

“You should go back in,” Simon said quietly.

“But I want to spend time with my boyfriend,” you said back, “that’s not a crime, is it?”

Simon shook his head silently.

You smiled and carefully leaned against the freezing metal railing, careful to not let the snow soak into your clothes.

“You know,” you started quietly, “you don’t have to pretend to be happy for me.”

Simon scowled, “I’m not pretending anything.”

You frowned, “Si, I’m not mad. It’s okay to not be okay.”

Simon rolled his eyes, “You’re going and giving me the therapy talk again?”

You huffed.

“I’m not giving you the ‘therapy talk’,” you looked out to the cold streets below, “I’m worried about you.”

“That’s a first,” Simon sniffed.

“I always care about you,” you retorted.

“You do,” Simon acquiesced, “not everybody else.”

“But what about all your squadmates? They really seem to like you,” you offered as you held out a hand for his.

Simon looked at your hand and glanced away, “I guess. But I don’t have much else. Not like you.”

You let your hand drop back to your side, “Is that what this is about?”

Simon hung his head down to his chest.

“They care about you too,” you offered, “just because they’re my family it doesn’t mean they don’t care about you too.”

“Seeing them all so happy…” Simon shook his head, “it’s different.”

“Different than your home?” you offered.

“Very,” Simon agreed.

A siren screamed by in the distance as a crowd of college students laughed below you. The warm city lights glowed like bright stars running along the streets, twinkling in the night with a friendly wink. Down the road you could see the traffic lights changing to red.

“Does it hurt?” you asked quietly.

“Always,” Simon admitted.

You watched a woman push her baby stroller through the snow below you.

“I’m sorry,” you whispered.

“You shouldn’t be sorry for being happy,” Simon grumbled.

“But what about-”

“Don’t care,” Simon grunted, “don’t be sorry for being happy.”

You nodded and crossed your arms over your chest.

You looked out over the skyline with a faint smile, “I know it’s hard, but it means a lot that you came over. I don’t know if I could do this on my own.”

Simon looked at you quizzically, “It looks like you’re enjoying yourself in there.”

“Well,” you shrugged, “every family has its problems, and we have ours. It’s sometimes hard listening to my uncle saying some things, and I hate seeing how my aunt treats my other uncle. It’s hard, and that’s just the tip of the iceberg.”

“Me being here helps that how?” Simon asked.

“Well, you got me out here, right?” you chuckled and took reached out your hand again.

Simon looked down at your hand and smiled. He took it into his and squeezed it lightly, “I guess I did.”

“You’re not all bad, you know,” you kissed the back of his hand before letting your hands drop down together.

“I hope not,” Simon let out a long breath through his nose.

“You’re not,” you affirmed and stepped close to his side, “I promise.”

Simon looked out at the skyline before looking back down at you. He smiled and brushed your hair to the side of your ear.

“You’re too good for me,” he whispered.

“I’m only as good as you are,” you replied with a small smile.

Simon rested his forehead against yours, warming your face with his tired breath. You reached up to run your hand through the back of his short-cropped hair and sighed.

“If we’re only as good as each other, then maybe both of us are damned,” Simon said under his breath.

“Then let’s be damned together,” you reached up and tugged him close.

His lips were hard, cracked, chapped with age and cigarettes and pain. You took all of it into your heart as you kissed him back. He wove a hand behind the back of your head and held you close, almost as though he was afraid of what would happen if he let go. When he pulled back, his eyes were half-closed and tired.

“You okay now?” you asked.

“Better,” Simon gruffed, “but only just a bit.”

“Do you wanna go back in yet?” you asked.

Simon glanced behind him before shaking his head, “Give me another ten.”

You traced a line of muscle down his neck to below his coat.

You looked up at him hopefully, “Can I kiss you again?”

Simon nodded and leaned in close, “As much as you like.”

[honeyshiddendesire]

So You Thought I Was Nice?

Pairing: Paulie x Fem Reader

Warnings: 18+ duhhh lol Minors Begone!!! Rope Play, bondage, dom! Paulie, vaginal penetration, friends to lovers, rough sex, mating press, dirty talk/ degradation (silly girl, messy girl, sloppy thing, nasty girl) pet names (darling, doll, sweetheart), messy pussy eating, pussy smacking, creampie

*My first Paulie smut cause he is underrated and needs extra love!! If you don't like Rough Paulie keep scrolling please!!**

Summary: You unknowingly get Paulie all worked up and he has to show you he’s not as nice as you think he is.

“Ugh I just wish someone would be rough with me. Is that too much to ask?” You sigh as you sit on your friend's couch and instantly you hear Paulie let out a sigh. “Listen darling I’m all for hearing you vent …but this is too much for me.” He can’t help but groan as he runs a hand over his face. You pout as you look at him, his hands lighting up his cigar to get his nerves to calm down but you only press on. “I’m serious Paulie and come on you’re my best friend. Who else am I gonna say this too?”

“Hopefully anyone else but me.” Paulie’s continuous groans make you roll your eyes as you toss a pillow at him. “Oh hush Paulie you’re a big boy you can hear this kind of stuff unless you’re too nice for sexual things.” Paulie glares your way before shaking his head, “Better watch it doll you’re gonna get on my last nerve if you keep this up.”

If you keep rolling your eyes they were gonna fall out but his words just had you in full sass mode, “Yeah right it’s like I said you’re too nice. Besides, what cha gonna do anyway, hmm? You’re just like the other soft guys I have sex with, all bark and absolutely no bite at all.”

“Alright that’s it. Get your ass up.” His command was said with a red face that makes you break out into a laugh which only makes him see red. Instantly your hands are being pulled together by a long rope. “What the - hey!”

“I said…Get up. Now.” He grunts with a puff of smoke, yanking at the rope making you sit up on the couch. “Or did ya think I was too nice?” You couldn’t even think of a comeback, this spark in Paulie making your breathing pickup. You wondered what his next move was but you also wondered what yours should be as well. Should you play nice or keep being a brat just to see how far he’d go. Both options sounded good but you took too long for his liking. Putting out his cigar in the ashtray on his coffee table he stepped toward you with a very uncharacteristic smirk that you weren’t used to.

“What’s the matter, doll? You scared?”

“N-no.” You can’t help but stutter out but it comes off all quiet and you mentally beat yourself up for it. You’re usually such a brat but something in you just wants to comply. “Want me to let you in on a little secret?” He asks, leaning down toward your face, tugging on the ropes so you’d get closer, his hand holding your chin to look at him. Your eyes focused on him as he grins at your expectant expression, “I love breaking bratty girls like you.”

You gasp as he picks you up, tossing you over his shoulder carrying you into his bedroom where he tosses you on the bed like a sack of potatoes. “Safe words shipwright.” He tells you as he ties the rope to his metal bed frame. Your breath hitches as you see him move to stand at the foot of the bed, his hands removing his jacket dropping on the floor. You knew he was fit from his job but seeing him remove his shirt in front of you to reveal cut abs was a sight to behold. “Careful doll, you keep looking at me like that and I don’t know how I’ll hold up.” His tone was stern but he still wore his signature blush.

Removing his belt he winds it in his hands snapping it to make a loud sound that has you yelp, “Now you better behave or I’ll have to use this on you. Got it doll?” Without realizing you found yourself nodding along and he just smirked. “Good.”

He made quick work of your clothes leaving your bottom bare and ripe for his greedy eyes to view. Paulie scowls as he looks at your soaked cunt, “Look at how fucking messy you are, such a sloppy brat getting all wet just from a couple words. Disgusting.” Though his words are harsh you notice how his blush only deepens and he licks his lips, eyes never leaving your pussy. You squirm from his gaze and he only clicks his teeth pushing your legs open, “Behave.”

“No.” You mumble and he only grins, “No? Yeah I’ll get you to behave real quick.” Paulie says as he pushes your legs back and dives straight down to your leaky core. A scream ripping from you as he swats at your pussy, before licking you like a starving man. Sucking at your clit roughly making you squeal out his name in shock, “Oh fuck Paulie!”

“Ah ah ah~ a lady shouldn’t curse.” He grins even though you have the mouth of a sailor he still had rules that only he could break. Biting your lip so you can keep your curses all muffled as he shoves his tongue inside your pussy, circling around to get a taste of your juices. Nipping at your clit gently until you were squealing and squirming even more. “Paulie what the hell!” You can't help but yelp again as he slaps your clit, “I said behave.”

“Okay okay!” You whine out and he just chuckles before diving back in, shaking his head and sucking at your clit, his strong hands pushing your legs back to keep you still. You were a wreck, you didn’t think him of all people would be so sloppy then have the nerve to back up as if admiring his work and spill out utter filth. “Damn you’re such a messy girl, leaking all over the fucking place. Nasty pussy making my bed all wet.” You frown breathing deeply but there’s no weight to his words as he simply dives back in like you’re the best meal ever. “Tastes so fucking good mmm.” Paulie’s moans make your eyes roll back as they send vibrations throughout your body. You couldn’t get enough of him and neither could he.

“Paulie~!” His name leaving your throat in a whiny moan that makes him slap your thigh gently. Your sounds making his brain fuzzy and eat you with your passion, running his tongue through your folds, sucking at your lips and clit before kissing you all over. Stars danced across your eyes as you felt yourself cum in his mouth, a moan leaving you as you felt him squeeze at your thighs with a bruising grip that left you dizzy. Your voice was gonna be wrecked when he was done with you but you had a feeling that wouldn’t be the only thing he wrecked. After he left you shaking he moved to kiss up your thighs sloppily until he sat up and undid his pants, licking his lips as you watched with your chest heaving. He grinned as he looked at your flustered expression, legs shaking and chest rising and falling rapidly, “Easy there baby don’t want you passin out on me.”

Paulie felt a spark of pride seeing you like this laid out for him and it grew when he saw your eyes go wide just as he let out his thick cock from their confines. The tip leaking and red waiting impatiently to finally dip inside your wet caverns that he wanted to destroy. “Gonna make you apologize for all that shit talking you were doing earlier. I’m not gonna go easy on you sweetheart so you better be ready.”

Nodding your head rapidly you couldn’t help but give a breathy answer, “Please Paulie fuck- please show me.” SMACK! “Fu~ sorry!” You almost curse again but stop yourself after feeling the sting on your thigh again.

“Making me repeat myself again doll? Guess you really did want someone rough huh?” He taunts to you before kissing up your body, his cock grinding against your sensitive folds, “I’m gonna have to fuck some manners into you and this pussy for making such a mess. That sound good to you sweetheart?” He asked and you found yourself nodding quickly, your voice lost as you felt every vein pressing into your throbbing clit.

“Good girl.” Paulie whispers against your lips making you lean up trying to kiss him and he only smirks, “Didn’t think you were so needy.” You whine as you feel him grind into you hard, tongue licking at your bottom lip before dominating its way into your mouth. You release a moan at the taste of yourself, his tongue swirling around yours and you sigh into the kiss legs wrapping around his waist to cage him close to you. You feel him pull his hips back making your heart race in anticipation, a moan being muffled by his tongue stuffing your mouth as he thrusts his cock deep in your wet pussy.

“Fuck~” Paulie groans as he leans back untangling your legs from his waist just to push them back into the mattress. You throw your head back as you feel him push deeper into you, “Yes!” This is what you needed all along. You just never realized that Paulie of all people was the one that could do it for you. He left you speechless as he picked up a brutal pace, pulling all the way out just to slam his full length back into you, never giving you or your pussy a chance to adjust. Toes curling and eyes rolling at the feeling of finally being used how you so desperately craved, “Paulie!” His name leaves your lips like a broken song that he wanted to play on repeat all night and he was gonna make sure he heard it.

“Like that ya brat?” His voice groans out, jaw tense and face a deep shade of red, blonde hair falling in front of his face as his goggles were long forgotten on the floor. You couldn’t find the words and just nodded in response, moans broken getting louder by the second and he could only scowl. “Can’t speak anymore huh?” You just whine as you feel him grip your thighs harder, his eyes looking down to where you both were connected.

“Slutty little pussy.” He mumbles as he watches his cock getting soaked by your creaming cunt sucking him in deeper. His hands on your thighs definitely gonna leave a bruise that you couldn't wait to see in the morning. The sound of slapping skin filled the room, the headboard rocking loudly along with your screams of pleasure were like music. It made his ears rings and he needed you to cum but he wanted you to beg him for it. Slowly his hips down has you whining and looking at him with pleading eyes that made him smirk.

“Awe what's the matter, brat? Ready to admit that I ain't so nice?” He taunts but it's breathy and makes your pussy clench. He looked so hot like this, hair a mess, face flushed and abs rippling as he had you folded. “Yes! Yes Paulie you're so fucking rude!”

Scowling he reached up and pulled your hair till your back arched with a moan, “Naughty little brat you just don't listen do you? Say you're sorry if you want to cum.” He groans, leaning down to bite at your neck, making you gasp. “I'm sorry Paulie please! Pleasepleaseplease lemme cum. I'll be good! Ugh I'll be so good I promise!” You whine and he leans down to nip your bottom lip.

“Yeah you'll be good for me finally? No more fucking those softies huh?” Paulie's words catch you by surprise but honestly you couldn't agree more. With the way he was fucking you there was no way you'd go back to anyone else when he was giving it to you so good.

“Yes Paulie I promise! Ah~! I'm all yours please let me cum!” You found yourself pleasing and he rewards you with a deep kiss and his hands going back to open your legs more. Hips picking back up their brutal pace on your cunt that was gonna be his by the end of this.

“Whose pussy does it belong to from now on then?” Paulie asks and all this filthy unexpected talk just took you for a world wind. It was too much and you couldn't take it at this rate. “Yours Paulie! It's all yours!” You scream out to him and he licks at your lips. Looking in your eyes as he says, “So cum for me baby.”

“Oh~Yes!” You scream in ecstasy, eyes rolling back and body arching toward him as you spray your pretty juices all over his cock. A deep groan leaving him as he cums right along with you, hips stuttering for a moment as he fucks ropes of cum deep in your pussy.

You didn't realize when he undid the ropes in your afterglow until he spun you around to lay on his chest. Both of you falling back into the mattress with a long sigh of satisfaction. His face red as a tomato hoping nothing more would be said or he'd die of embarrassment.

You had a huge smile plastered on your face as you looked up at him, his arms tightening around you hoping to squeeze the words he knew were coming out. “Wow Paulie I didn't think you had it in you.” You grin and he just groans loudly in response. “Oh hush it will ya. Don't make me gag you.”

Your eyes beamed at his statement and he only blushes more realizing he made a mistake in his words. “Really!? Can we try that next time!”

“Dammit you shameful woman! Do you always think with that pussy of yours?”

Staring at him with a big smile that he can't seem to look away from you nod your head, “Yup!”

Paulie just knew he had his hands full with a lady like you by his side.

*banner*