#I might see if I can take Friday afternoon off work

[takes1]

heyyy, I just found your page and I’m in love omg<333 would just like to request an ushijima imagine with a tall reader (5’10-11) it’s so rare to see a tall reader tbh hahah, anyways reader is captain of the girls volleyball of their school and is a middle blocker, ushijima just kinda stumbled upon their gym with tendou and cannot take his eyes off here or something 😭

Thank youuuuu

thanks pookie! sorry about the wait. this was a great request! i rlly appreciate asks like these. sorry i wrote this man a little different than what i normally see, but it made sense to me

warnings. none, sfw.

details. ushijima not getting social queues / pining!ushijima / kinda dumb!ushijima / stoic!ushijima / staring / secretly sweet!ushijima / tall!reader / team captain!reader / unrequited? crush / tendou being a great wingman / 1.8k words

links. masterlist. more haikyuu here. my ao3. request box.

Leading a team full of peers never came naturally. At least, the girls didn't make it an easy task when every order, every call was either questioned or giggled at.

Today's practice in particular was getting to you. Nobody was focused up and there were some plays that only existed because it was a Friday afternoon going into a long weekend off.

You shut down a laughable attempt at a spike. If anything, your jump was too high- the ball caught your chest and slammed into the opposite side of the court. What was that? Six shut-downs in the past ten minutes?

"Let's try hitting the ball, not bumping it!" You shouted, swiping the sweat down and off your face. It was mean, but honest.

"We're trying!" Somebody whined.

You flung your arm dismissively at the other side of the net and rested your hands on your hips. Maybe it was just destined to be a rough day, after all.

A melodic whistle from the entrance turned your attention to a cheery redhead, skipping towards the court. Behind him trailed a slower, silent, but somehow greater presence.

You called for a water break at once- celebration ignored- to greet your eccentric friend.

"Strooong block," Tendou grinned and scanned you for signs of effort- he found it in the wetness across your light-colored shirt, "Good game?"

"Hardly," You fanned yourself by pumping your collar with air.

Ushijima stopped glancing around the gym and finally acknowledged your presence- you pretended to not care about his awful staring problem. He didn't look you in the eye, but in a way, it made you more on-edge. Was there something wrong?

You stopped fanning yourself and faked a smile to hide how concerned you were that they might stay to watch, "We're just- off, today--,"

"Mmmm!" Tendou's attentive hum and consequent staring was far more objective, but creepy nonetheless.

What a couple of weirdos.

"We were just about to call it, actually," You placed your hands on your hips, squinting at the other captain to guess his intentions, "So if you were trying to use the court, you can have it."

Narrowed eyes caught your gaze in an intense, humbling second- you wrapped your arms around yourself and glanced away.

Ushijima had an otherworldly harshness to him. You rarely felt the need to shy away from people, but he knew how to make you squirm.

He said absolutely nothing to you. Tendou accepted your offer and paid it forward by inviting you to stay and run drills, but there was something about Ushijima you couldn't decipher, no matter how much you wanted to practice. It was like he had a problem with you, or the way you ran your team, or he was just pissed off- none of those were possibilities you had the energy to deal with after this evening.

They took the court gladly to do some pair work and clean up; your team left in a cheerful mood, ready to get started on their long weekend right away. The arrangement left only you dissatisfied.

Tendou stalked your exit carefully from afar, tip-tapping anxiously on the ball in his hands. Your long shadow slipped away and they were alone at last.

He kept his voice low, just in case, and cozied up to Ushijima's side, "Soooo..."

Ushijima spared a passing glance over to his curious friend, no more.

"How long?" Tendou's attentive, inquisitive grinning was enough context. No need for direct name-dropping, nor denial.

His stone face began to fill with color.

This was a new feeling for him- it felt like he was dying, but in a good way, and he didn't want it to ever stop. He couldn't seem to catch his breath until you left. That didn't bother him per say- he didn't need air if it meant he could watch you shut down spikes, or roll into a skilled receive, or lead your team.

When he was forced to speak was the only real problem. He could sit and be a spectator forever, but when it came to getting any words out with you, they all fell apart on his tongue. He was always pretty quiet, but he knew this was pushing what he could get away with.

"Don't know. I've always liked her."

Tendou tossed the ball to him. He caught it, deep in thought.

It was clear that you didn't return the feelings. From the beginning, you were always different with him than you were with your team, or even Tendou. He knew he wasn't charming, or charismatic, or friendly. That wasn't an issue until recently.

The way you walked, with a slight swagger, always standing straight-- using your height as a weapon, captured his attention first. He caught himself stealing glances at you from across the gym when your teams switched for precious practice time. He started to notice more. The strong lines in your legs, the sweat-stuck hair on your brow, the little pant on your breath when you said hey just out of civility, the confidence in your voice when you called plays.

Now he battled the feeling of wanting to put himself closer to you. Once that craving started to hit him at night, moments before he drifted off to sleep, he knew something was wrong with him.

Every time he had the opportunity to say something, he lost his voice.

"It's-," He slapped the ball a few times onto the gym floor, then stopped to think before sending it over, "Different now."

Tendou shot him an easy pass, "Y'know, I was starting to think you couldn't get crushes."

He bumped it back, "Me too."

-

Despite how off putting the experience was, by the next practice you were able to brush it all off. You were operating on two completely separate teams, after all. What the guys did, how they practiced, and when was simply not your business.

You slung your bag over your shoulder on the way out of your classroom. Your teacher called after the exiting students about due dates.

"I've been getting questions about the quiz! Remember, you also have a discussion due. They're two different assignments--!"

You only halfway paid attention, too excited about the warmth blowing in through cracked windows from the hall. It would feel so good at practice today - and you had something special planned to raise morale.

You were only a step out the door when you crashed into something firm. The sound of your head smacking into Ushijima's was loud, and unsurprisingly, painful.

"Oh-!"

"Mm-,"

You ran hot with embarrassment and failed to cover it with a laugh. How did you not see him?

"Sorry," You both muttered at the same time.

You rubbed your temple, he rubbed his forehead.

As he did so, he spared you no dignity with what looked like a judgmental up-and-down gaze. It was so piercing that made you grip your shoulder strap tighter. You weren't sure if he meant something by it.

That was just another example of his behavior that felt contradictory.

"We need..." He trailed, briefly checking his hand for any blood. When he looked up, his eye contact so intense that his brows began to furrow. There was some sort of affliction behind his eyes. A narrowed, preoccupied focus that made you uneasy.

You instinctively wiped the back of your hand over your hot face, in case you had anything on it. The side of your head throbbed like terrible.

He opened his mouth a little to say continue, but sighed instead, uneven.

Things were starting to connect in your brain. Little by little, you picked up on more cues from his body language. He was out of breath, a little sweaty, and flushed. He was clearly rushing here. That was the reason you plowed into one another. You realized you were lucky you were around the same size, or else that could've knocked you on your ass.

"The guys need to get into the gym earlier today."

The statement ripped you from your spiralling, almost complete, thoughts. You laughed, "Yeah, right."

Despite you both being Captains of the same sport, there was very little need to talk to each other beyond your shared affinity for Tendou. Your team schedules never clashed- your coaches and advisors made sure of it.

You squinted when he clearly wasn't kidding.

"Do you really 'need' it? Or do you just want the gym earlier?"

He took a breath to answer, but you were quick to ask another agitated question, "Did Coach Washijou approve of this? I haven't seen an updated schedule."

Talking to you was impossible enough, but you were pissed off, and asking so many questions, and the light was hitting your face just right, and you smelled so good. He couldn't shake how pretty you still looked, angry and impatient with him. You stood straight and proud. Your eyeline was close to his own so he could savor every color he could find in your darting eyes.

His slow reaction and lack of social graces was so off-putting that you could only assume it came from a place of narcissism. He must not have cared, or he thought that his own team was more deserving of practice time that he demanded taking yours.

You were seconds away from calling him an entitled prick when you spotted a familiar redhead approaching, just over Ushijima's shoulder.

"(Y/n)!!" He sang and squeezed past his friend to take your hand in his. He tossed it back and forth between his own. It made you smile for a moment; as always, he helped diffuse the tension.

"Hey, Satori-," You wanted to be nicer, but only had about 15 minutes left to figure this issue out, "What is this about needing the gym sooner?"

He looked up at the ceiling, acutely aware that Ushijima was not a fan of this physical contact between the two of you, "Hmm! Ohh, that. I meant to tell you-,"

A calculated gaze to Ushijima, "He said nevermind."

That little liar.

In a flash, just through that familiar, cunning face of his, Ushijima understood that Coach Washijou never actually wanted the gym. Tendou only told him the 'news' because he wanted him to have a reason to speak to you. He really wanted to punch him, just for a moment.

There was something between them you couldn't make out. A conversation there you didn't get. You couldn't, and didn't want to, bother yourself with it.

"Perfect! So, there's no issue then?" You patted Tendou, then Ushijima's broad shoulder and squeezed between them to go change for practice.

"Mm-mmm, No issues here!" Tendou grinned and wiggled his fingers goodbye at you. He looked at his friend.

Ushijima placed an oversized hand on that shoulder and watched you walked away.

taglist. love ya'll <33

@yuchacco

@integers

[tj-crochets]

Today’s enrichment for my enclosure was a new giant whale shark plushie pattern! I got all the machine sewing done, I just need to add the stuffing and close the opening for turning tomorrow

[revasserium]

hiii can i pls request zayne with prompt 60 “home”? also love ur writing btw and i look forward to reading more of ur works <333

send me one + a character and i'll write u a drabble

60. home

zayne; 2,264 words; fluff, fem!reader, no "y/n", whipped!zayne, implied sex, fade to black, zayne being a simp as per usual

summary: a friday afternoon

a/n: idk i just love writing dialogue for zayne he's so !!!!

The Hospital - Friday, 4:36PM

Linoleum floors and fluorescent lights; the smell of antiseptic, the rhythmic beeps and hums of heart rate monitors and nebulizer machines. He spends too much time here, knows the flow of the hospital like he knows the web of arteries and capillaries in the human body, the wards branching off of each other, the hustle and bustles of nurses and staff familiar, oppressive.

It is only in the quiet of his own office, with its big windows and even bigger piles of paperwork (be it virtual or physical), that he ever allows himself to relax. He glances at the vase of brightly colored tulips on his desk and allows himself a grin. He remembers the shape of you, can feel the weight of your hand in his as you’d tugged him around the farmer’s market on Sunday morning, pointing at the various vendors, asking to try a bite of this and a bit of that, until finally, you’d come across the flower seller — a middle-aged woman with a sweet smile and a gleeful glint in her eyes as she explained about the language of flowers.

“There’s sunshine in your smile,” you’d repeated, looking down at the yellow tulips before grinning up at Zayne.

“Perfect for you, isn’t it?”

He could hear the tease in your voice, see that familiar playful twinkle in your eyes and he’d raised an eyebrow before wordlessly handing over a few bills from his wallet.

And now the flowers sit, quiet save for all their brilliance, on his desk, in a simple vase filled with crystal-clear water. He stares at it for a second longer before pulling out his phone and swiping it open to your contact.

Coming home early today, he texts. Immediately, a typing bubble appears, and a second later, a short shoomp sound as your reply appears on his screen —

oh? dr. zayne leaving work early??? is the sun setting in the east today?

He chuckles to himself before dialing your line and a second later, your voice answers, a little hesitant.

“Hello?”

“If you’re going to be sarcastic, at least do it in person.”

Shuffling noises, and then — “Not my fault you’re never around for me to be mean to you in person.”

Zayne leans back in his chair with a sigh, “Hn. How’s shopping with Tara?”

“Fun! But my legs are getting tired…”

“I can meet you at the main shopping center around 5:30.”

A moment of quiet, and then “Ah… but that’s still an hour from now…”

Zayne scoffs, “I could stay till 7PM like I usually do —”

“No, no! That’s… that’s not what I meant — I’ll see you at 5:30, then? Don’t be late!”

You end the call before he can protest and for a second, Zayne stares at the screen, the picture of your smiling face fading after another few seconds as the phone screen darkens.

“Doctor? Your next patient is here,” the nurse calls through his closed door.

“Yes, I’ll be right there.” Zayne glances once more at the yellow tulips on his desk before pushing himself up and adjusting his white coat. He’ll have to make a note to change the water soon.

City Center Shopping Mall - Friday, 5:38PM

“You made it!”

Zayne turns at the sound of your voice to find you slightly breathless as you jog up to him, coming to a stop a few steps away.

“You sound surprised.”

A blush dusts your cheeks as you avert your eyes, “I — I’m not! I just thought… you might be a bit later than this.”

Zayne keeps his expression neutral even as he reaches out to take your hand, casually lacing his fingers between yours. He feels you give him a small squeeze and contents himself with letting you take the lead as the pair of you start to wander through the mall, glancing at the window displays.

“Oh… that smells good!” you both pause as the smell of scallions and garlic warms the air. You close your eyes and take a deep breath, “I think it’s coming from that restaurant over there! Tara was telling me that it just opened a week ago and it’s already going viral online for their stuffed pancakes —”

“C’mon then.” Zayne starts off for the restaurant.

“W-wait! We don’t have a reservation! We’ll never get in!”

Zayne keeps walking, gently tugging you behind him till you both round the corner to see a truly impressive line outside the restaurant doors. He walks passed the massive line straight to the front where a smiling girl in a flowery apron stands at an electronic podium, taking down the names of the next party in line.

“Is Liam here?”

“O-oh! Uhm, I think so!” the girl blinks, surprised as she looks down at her reservation list, “May I ask who’s asking?”

“Zayne.”

The girl nods as she slips into the restaurant. Beside him, you look up, confused.

“Do you know someone here?”

Zayne nods but doesn’t explain any further as the smiling girl comes back and motions for you both to follow her.

“Right this way Dr. Zayne! Enjoy your meal!”

Zayne gives your hand a small tug as you stumble after him, the confusion on your face blossoming into something like surprise as the pair of you duck into the bustling restaurant to be greeted by an enthusiastic young man, around Zayne’s age, his sleeves rolled up, a bandana tied around his forehead.

“Zayne! You should’ve told me you were coming!”

“It was a last-minute decision,” Zayne supplies, shaking Liam’s hand firmly, pulling you into his side even as Liam’s eyes slide onto you.

“Oh… is this the girl you were always talking about back in —”

“I think we’ll take a booth in the back, thanks,” Zayne cuts him off with a loud cough, already making for the back of the restaurant. Liam laughs good-naturedly, leading you both to a booth tucked in the very corner, away from most of the noise and bustle.

You inch into the booth, casting Zayne a curious look.

“Is that the owner? How do you know him?”

Zayne doesn’t look up as he glances over the menu before pushing it towards you.

“We went to medical school together. Pick anything you want, it’s all very good.”

Your eyebrows shoot up, “And he decided to become a chef instead?”

Zayne’s lips twitch, “Is that so unbelievable?”

You shrug, looking down at the menu at last, pursing your lips, “No… it’s just… did he drop out of med school then?”

Zayne shakes his head, “No, he was one of the best in our year.”

“Oh. Then…?”

Zayne taps the menu, “I thought you were hungry.”

You blush, looking down, “I am!”

It’s not till the middle of the meal that Zayne speaks again —

“He said it didn’t make him happy.”

You look up, your cheeks bulging with food. Zayne watches you swallow with a concerted effort, reaching out to wipe at your lips with an indulgent smile even as you swat at his hand.

“Liam? About… being a doctor?”

“Yes. And… in a way, I understood him. He said that the kitchen’s always felt more like home.”

You purse your lips, looking at your half-eaten stuffed pancake.

“Then… does the hospital feel like home? To you?”

Zayne chuckles, leaning forward to add some more veggies to your bowl with his chopsticks.

“No, it doesn’t.”

“Then…” you trail off, waiting for his answer. There’s a familiar color seeping into your cheeks as Zayne looks you over before his eyes flicker down to your bowl.

“Eat. Or else the veggies will go cold.”

Zayne’s Apartment - Friday, 7:01PM

“I’m so full!” you slump down onto his couch with a long sigh, patting your stomach.

“You were the one who wanted seconds of dessert,” Zayne says, hanging up his coat and turning to join you on the couch. You make a small noise as he lifts your legs and lays them across his lap, his thumbs absently digging into the backs of your calves.

“Ow…” you make to jerk your leg away as he hits a knot but he only grips your ankle and pulls it back with a soft tut.

“Hold still.”

You bury your face in one of the couch cushions as he continues to silently knead at your calf muscles.

“There, better?” his voice is soft now, tugging on the frayed ends of your subconscious as you turn your head to blink at him, a bit dazed.

“Yeah… lots better. Thanks.”

You make to get up but he loops an arm around your back and lifts you easily from the couch, bridal style.

“Zayne?”

“You’re staying the night, right?” he asks, even as he makes for the bedroom.

“I — I am?”

He glances down at your face as he sets you down on his bed.

“I can still drive you home if you want —” He makes to pull away.

“No! I — I can stay. I mean — I want to stay.” You reach up to tug at his shirt, fingers crumpling the material as he stills. You can feel your cheeks blazing as his gaze flickers over your face before settling on your lips.

“Alright then.”

There’s a breath’s pause before you give his shirt another tentative tug and he tips forward with the motion, leaning in to brush his lips against yours.

A soft groan bubbles out of you as Zayne presses you back and back and back, until he’s caged over you, trailing hot lips down the line of your neck, skimming his teeth along your collarbones.

“Mm — Z-Zayne…?”

He pulls back, his eyes a bit unfocused as he looks you over — you can feel the weight of his gaze as it flutters over the planes and ridges of your face, from the arch of your brows to the line of your nose. You can’t help blushing beneath this intense scrutiny, and you tug once more at his shirt, your fingers somehow having inched up to his collar, one of your fingers hooked into the top loop of his buttons.

He reaches up to cover your hand with his, fingers easily curling around your smaller hand.

“What is it?”

You lick your lips, stomach twisting, the base rumble of his voice sending shivers shaking through your body.

“Nothing just… I don’t remember you drinking at dinner so…”

He leans down to press a soft kiss to the back of your hand before dropping it back to his shirt collar.

“No, but… alcohol’s not the only thing that might cause someone to lose hold of their senses…”

You watch as his eyes darken at your intake of breath, the way his grip on your hand tightens ever so slightly.

“Then…” you swallow, eyes fluttering shut as you feel his lips trail back up your neck to your jaw.

“Are you going to make me say it?”

You let out a tiny whimper as he presses a leg up between yours, his breath now hot against the lobe of your ear.

“Say… what?”

Zayne pulls back just far enough to cock an eyebrow at you. And like this, you’ve never seen anything so alluring — the sight of him with his shirt tugged open, his eyes blown dark with desire, his hair slightly mussed from your eager fingers, his lips kissed pink, his cheeks warm with color.

“Hn. Is this my punishment then?”

“For what?”

“For being late to meet you.”

You fight back a grin, “Well… you did say I could be mean to you in person.”

Zayne lets out a sigh, “Alright then.”

You walk your fingers up his chest before pushing him back till you’re both sitting up again. He waits patiently for you to push him down and straddle his hips, slowly tugging open the buttons of his shirt, loosening his tie till it hangs undone around his neck. You lean in to press a soft kiss to his chest and revel in the way he hisses.

His fingers reach up for your hips and you catch them with a quick shake of your head.

“No touching… not till I say.”

Zayne stares at you for a second before relaxing and letting his hands fall back onto the sheets.

And it’s not until you lean down to kiss at his exposed abdomen that he groans, head tipping back. Then, a second later, you find yourself pinned beneath him, breathless, Zayne towering over you with parted lips, the moon casting stark shadows along the lines of his face.

“I said you could be mean… I didn’t say I wouldn’t retaliate.”

After, when the pair of you are curled into each other like pieces of jigsaw puzzle that’s finally found its missing parts, his breath warm along the nape of your neck, Zayne finds himself smiling.

“It’s always been you…” he murmurs, though he’s nearly certain you’re already asleep, your breathing sweet and level, your body pliant and perfect against his.

He laces his hands between yours and drops a soft kiss onto the skin of your bare shoulder.

“It doesn’t matter what I do… or where I do it… because my home has always been… you.”

[strangersteddierthings]

Good People - Final Part

Part One🦇Part Two🦇Final Part

It is not often that Wayne is happy with the monotony of work. Tonight is one of those nights, if only because it allows him to think about where he went wrong speaking to Eddie. He had never meant to imply he thought Eddie was like Al; he'd meant the apple and tree comment to for Richard and Steve. However, he does acknowledge why Eddie drew the conclusion that Wayne might have thought Eddie would follow in Al's footsteps.

Wayne's being a hypocrite, applying the logic to one boy, but not the other. And even though he never, not once, thought that Eddie would become Al, he'll never be able to take that thought from Eddie's mind that he had. He can apologize until he's blue in the face, Eddie might even forgive him, but he's not sure Eddie will ever believe him. Not truly.

And how could Wayne expect him to?

No. That's a shame Wayne will take to the grave.

Next strike to Wayne's conscious; the misjudgment of Steve Harrington, and how it ties into the fact Eddie accused him of not trusting his judgement, and, moreover, Eddie being right. Wayne hadn't trusted in Eddie's trust of Steve.

He should have. It's been years since Eddie came home crying about a boy, but what father doesn't see their kid crying over their first heartbreak and doesn't grow protective? And with Eddie, it's even more terrifying. Getting mixed up with the wrong boy could mean bruised ribs, black eyes, or worse.

In a town like Hawkins, a boy would just have to claim Eddie made a sexual advance and his murder could (would) be justified.

Now add the manhunt and being suspected of murderer to that. Well, Wayne's scared for Eddie's life almost every minute of his day.

But it's no excuse. Or if it is, it's a poor one.

Wayne doesn't know the full story but he does know that Steve was with the group of people on Eddie's side; that he was there with the Henderson kid, the Buckley girl, and Nancy Wheeler, digging Eddie out of the rubble from the earthquake, getting him to the hospital as fast as they could.

Steve Harrington was part of the group that saved Eddie's life, and that should have meant more to begin with. Instead, Wayne's been waiting for a shoe to drop that very well isn't coming.

He's going to fix this.

He'll give Eddie his space to be angry with him, and he'll try again in a few days.

When Wayne gets home, around 6:30am, Eddie's van is gone. He's not surprised. He probably left shortly after Wayne did, not leaving sooner just to avoid him.

There is a note on Wayne's bed when he makes it there. Says he's at Steve, and instead of letting Wayne know when he'll return it just says the words 'be back' followed by a bunch of questions marks. He ends it with 'call if worried' and leaves a phone number that must be for the Harrington residence.

Another hurt Wayne can't blame on anyone but himself.

Wednesday passes. Wayne eats breakfast, goes grocery shopping, pretends to care about his shows before sleeping the afternoon away to prepare for another graveyard. Eddie has not returned when he wakes, and two short hours later, he's off to work.

Eddie's van remains gone.

Returns from work Thursday morning and repeats Wednesday. He replaces grocery shopping with laundry and cleaning out the leftovers for trash day tomorrow morning. Goes to work.

Friday morning he returns home. No Eddie. He waits for it to be a more appropriate time, a little before 10:00am to call the number Eddie left.

It rings, rings, rings, then, a voice he hasn't heard in years. Richard Harrington's voice sounds as cold as it always was as the answering machine recites, "You've reached the Harrington's. We are not available. Leave a message."

"This is Wayne Munson. I just wanted to make sure Eddie's- that's he's alright. Let him know that I called. Checked on him. He doesn't need to call back but I'd appreciate it."

He hangs up the phone, lump in his throat. He misses his boy, and he wants to make his right, but he can't force that. Eddie has to always want to make it okay between them.

He's usually off Fridays, but he asked to pick up a shift. He can't face Linda without having fixed this. He spends the morning and afternoon doing all the small fixes he'd been putting off. Anything to keep him busy. He goes to sleep at his usual time, and wakes up two hours before his shift like normal.

Check's his answering machine but if anyone called while he was asleep, they didn't leave a message. There's still no van when he heads to work.

The plant tells him to leave an hour early. He tries to argue to stay but he's just waved off, told to go get some sleep because he's been looking a little worse for the wear.

He gets back to Forest Hills around 5:40am and finds there is another car parked at his home. Not Eddie's van, but the sleek maroon BMW that belongs to Steve Harrington parked where the van usually is.

When he pulls into his spot, the headlights of his truck light up Steve, sitting on his steps, wrapped in a coat. It can't be more than 50℉ outside right now.

Steve stands as Wayne cuts the engine and climbs from his truck. He gets to the front of his truck and Steve speaks.

"Eddie's okay," Steve says, hands shoving deep into his pockets, "I tried to get him to call you back yesterday but, well, you know Eddie."

Wayne nods, because he does know Eddie. "I appreciate you tellin' me. But you coulda just called."

"I could have."

They look at each other for a moment, and just as Steve opens his mouth, probably to tell Wayne he's going to go, Wayne speaks first, "you wanna come inside and have a cup of coffee to warm up?"

Steve tilts his head slightly to the left before he says, "are you sure?"

"I'm sure."

"Alright," and then Steve steps away from the stairs so Wayne can climb them and let them into the trailer. Steve follows behind silently but with familiarity. He's spent so much of his time here since spring break- the shame crawls through Wayne again. He'd assumed, once upon a time, that Eddie and Steve spent more time here than at Steve's because why would Steve want the trailer park boy in his big fancy house? Now, though, he wonders if it's because this place felt more like a home, even with Wayne's cold shoulder.

Steve sits at their little kitchen table, a luxury they didn't have before because there was no room in the single wide, one bedroom they'd had before. The new double wide (with three bedrooms) offered them a bit more space for a dining area.

Wayne's still suspicious of the government's offer to replace their destroyed home, but he wasn't foolish enough to deny the offer when it was made to him by Jim Hopper (newly returned from the dead back then).

"How do you take your coffee?" Wayne asks, once the machine finishes filling the carafe.

"Oh, I can fix it-"

"Nonsense," Wayne waves him back to sitting, "just tell me."

"I like it with just enough milk to take the scalding heat out of it," Steve says, and while Wayne's not sure just how much that it, he tries anyway.

He sets a cup in front of Steve before taking a seat across from him. "I really do appreciate that you came to tell me Eddie's okay. I want to give him his space but...."

Steve sips his coffee before shooting his cup a small smile. Wayne must have got the ratio right. Then, he looks to Wayne and the smile drops, a more serious expression taking its place and he says, "Eddie wouldn't really tell me what your fight was about, other than, uh, me and that you... overheard some of what I said last time I was here. I don't, like, want to come between you and Eddie, but I'm not, I'm not going to let you scare me away. So, just tell me what I have to do to get Eddie to believe we're cool, and I'll do it. Anything, except for getting out of Eddie's life. 'Cause I won't."

"I would never ask you to do that," Wayne says. Steve squints at him, a look of suspicion now. Completely warranted, given what Steve has known of Wayne thus far. "I owe you an apology, Steve. For how I've been treatin' you."

Steve's eyes go wide, "Oh. What? Why?"

"You've been nothin' but good to Eddie. For Eddie. And I refused to see that. I made a judgment about you without knowin' anything but your name." Steve let's out a soft 'oh' at that, but Wayne plows on, "And that weren't fair, and it weren't right. I can't undo it, but I want you to know I regret it. I'm sorry."

"Okay," Steve says, after a moment. "I forgive you."

It's Wayne's turn to be surprised. He's a bit speechless. So much so, he takes a page right out of Eddie's book and asks, "are you sure?" which is a question he's never asked after having an apology accepted before, but one Eddie had asked a lot when he first came to live with Wayne, and they were learning to co-exist.

"Yeah. I get it."

He doesn't like that answer. Doesn't like the he contributed to the mind set that gave Steve that answer. "You're allowed to be mad at me for it."

"I think Eddie's mad enough for both of us."

It doesn't feel like closure. It doesn't feel like forgiveness, but Wayne doesn't know what to say. He can't just start sprouting all the bad things he thought about Steve; there's no reason Steve should have to listen to that. But without hearing it, Steve doesn't even know what he's forgiving Wayne for. "I'll be honest with ya, Steve. It feels like you shouldn't."

Steve frowns at him. "Why?"

Why? Why? For all the reasons Eddie yelled at him, and all the things Linda said, and all the agony he's felt these last few days. The guilt and the shame that still eat at him, even as Steve Harrington says he forgives him. "It's too easy."

Those three words have Steve leaning back against the chair. His eyes dance around Wayne's face before taking in the whole of him. Or, what Steve can see of him with from across the table. When Steve meets his eye again, Wayne sees recognition there. "If you can't forgive yourself, I get that. I do. I-I've spent most of my life as one big apology. And I'm not saying that I, like, don't still feel like- what I mean to say, is that, I forgive you. I'm not, like, gonna hold it against you that you were just trying to look out for Eddie, man. Like, two years ago your fears would have been justified, so."

"Don't make it right," Wayne argues, but he doesn't know why.

"No," Steve agrees, "but I'm forgiving you anyway. You think you're the first person to hear the name Steve Harrington and assume you know everything you need to know about me already?"

Steve's words sound like they could be confrontational, but his tone is light. Teasing? Wayne says, "no. Suppose I'm not."

"Every person I love has done that," Steve says, and the ease of which he says that has Wayne feeling some sort of way. Eddie's words echo in his mind 'you made me help him feel that way'. How many other people have made him feel like he's a bad person? "Even- even Eddie. He made a point, during spring break, to, uh, well, he didn't apologize for anything because there was nothing to apologize about, but he made a point to tell me I was very 'metal' and a 'cool dude' so.... I know my name comes with, like, a shadow or a curse or whatever. I think it will for as long as I live in Hawkins, but that's," Steve flaps his hand in the air, as if that fills in for the word he can't find, and it's a move so reminiscent of Eddie. "Anyway, if you aren't actually, like, ready to accept an apology, you shouldn't be making one."

Wayne sits in that for a moment. There's a lot more to Steve Harrington than he'd ever thought. So much he doesn't know, actually, but he thinks he's okay with learning more. This boy told Eddie he was half-way in love with him earlier this week, and while Wayne never heard Eddie say it back, he knew anyway. It's why he was so protective. "You're pretty wise for your age."

Steve grins and shakes his head. "Nah, that last part was all Robin. She says it all the time to me."

"Well, then you best stop apologizing when you ain't ready to accept the forgiveness," Wayne parrots back the words.

Steve throws his head back and laughs.

They finish their coffee with silence and small talk. Steve tells him about how he never thought he'd miss his job at the video store but working at Melvald's is making him long for the days when the biggest complaint was late fees. Apparently, there's so many more things to complain about in retail.

Wayne talks about working at the plant and how the tasks are repetitive and a bit labor intensive, but the graveyard pay is worth it. Steve asks him a few more questions about working at the plant that Wayne's happy to answer and the more Steve asks, the more Wayne becomes aware that Steve might be looking for a change of occupation. He makes a mental note to put in a good word to Floyd, just in case.

Steve leaves with the promise of returning with Eddie, as soon as possible. As he was heading to the door, Wayne asked why he showed up so early.

"Eddie can't stop me if he's not awake," was Steve's answer, a mischievous grin on his face.

Wayne watches from the porch as Steve backs out. Steve shoots him one last little wave with his fingers before heading away.

He goes back inside and washes the dishes. Even dries and puts them away, a feat usually done once a week; he and Eddie have no qualms with using dishes directly from the dish drainer. His only other chore for the day is leaving for work a bit early so he has time to stop at the gas station and fill up the truck.

Grabbing the remote from its spot on the coffee table, Wayne plops onto the couch to spend his day as mindlessly as possible with some TV.

He goes to sleep at his usual time and wakes up at 7:43pm according to his alarm clock; a little over two hours before his shift is to start. It's time for more coffee, he thinks as he dresses for work before heading to the kitchen.

He jerks to a stop when he sees Eddie and Steve sitting on the couch, leaned close and talking softly. He's not about to repeat a past mistake, so he makes his presence known. "Evenin' boys."

Eddie pops up from the couch quick as lightning, taking a few steps towards Wayne before stopping. "I don't like being mad at you."

Wayne nods, "I don't much like you bein' mad at me, either. For what it's worth, I am sorry."

Eddie closes the distance between them, then, and pulls Wayne into a tight hug. Wayne returns it instantly, how can he not? He hears Eddie say, softly, "it's worth an awful lot, you terrible old man."

They part, and Eddie speaks first, "but if you ever pull shit like this again, I won't be so quick to forgive."

"I won't," Wayne says, at the same time Steve says, "he won't."

Both Munsons look at Steve, who grins back at them.

"You think you know my uncle that well already, from one shared cup of coffee?" Eddie asks, sounding amused.

Steve shrugs, "no. I just, uh, plan to stick around, y'know. Kinda hoping there's no dude after me for him to be an angry dad about. I would appreciate it, though, Mr. Munson, if you'd skip the shovel talk bit of all this?"

Eddie sucks in a breath and Wayne's a bit shocked by what Steve's implied. What Steve's admitted, really, out loud in front of another person. Wayne wonders if any boy Eddie's ever liked before would have done that.

"What good's a shove talk when you've already told me you ain't goin' anywhere?" Wayne says, hoping his tone is as light and teasing as he wants it to be.

"Glad we're on the same page," Steve agrees, "but, uhh, do you want me to go? So you can have a real talk?"

"No," says Eddie.

"No," says Wayne, at the same time.

"Oh. Okay. Uh, in that case, you got anything to drink here besides coffee?"

Wayne nods and they all pile into the kitchen to get a beverage before settling in the living room. There will be time to talk later, Wayne realizes. He's going to apologize properly.

Later, though, when he'll really be ready to accept Eddie's forgiveness, because there's no doubt Eddie'll forgive him. So, he's going to sit in the living room and chat with his boys until he has to go to work.

By the time Friday comes around again, he'll be able to tell Linda she was right, everything's going to be okay one day, and maybe ask her on a date he's been putting off asking for since high school.

Done!! I hope the ending is sufficiently cheesy.

I'm so sorry if I missed you! There were a lot of people asking to be tagged haha

@i-less-than-three-you @nburkhardt @afewproblems @skepsiss @unclewaynemunson @kaij-basil-lionelli88 @swimmingbirdrunningrock @mugloversonly @limpingpenguin @krazyperson @acrolius @salisbury-at-the-stake @littlebookworm86 @savedbytheirmusic @wxrmland @myownworstenemyyy @thelittleclare @awkotaco24 @djohawke @wrenisflying @croatoan-like-its-hot @actualwakingnightmare @krowepoison @jamieweasley13 @yourmom-isgay @irregular-child @oldwitcheshat @abstractnaturaldisaster @wishiwasacasualfan @vinteraltus @zerokrox-blog @warlordess @stevesbipanic @steveshairspray @slowandsteddie @samsoble @waelkyring @just-a-tiny-void @saramelaniemoon @halfadoginatank @nightmareglitter @scarletyeager @hellfireone @rovia2312 @munsonslure @a-little-unsteddie @soaringornithopter @eddiethehunted @starlight-archer @dryptid @inkjette

[pupyuj]

Need ur thoughts on baby daddy ive unnies 😊

since i’ve already covered jiwon and yujin before i’m only gonna do gaeul, rei, and wony here! 💕💕

[cw: pregnancy, lactation kink]

gaeul would be the sweetest baby daddy ever :(( i like the idea of the two of you being a long term couple who everybody always assumes that are married but actually aren’t 😭 and naturally gaeul would want a kid with you but due to thinking that you might not want one yet or ever, she ends up just staying quiet about it until you bring it up, in which her eyes literally light up as soon as you say “i’d love to have your baby” one night during a heart to heart 🥺🥺 after that talk, the two of you would then try to get pregnant every time you fuck! there’d be a different kind of hunger in gaeul’s eyes every time she’s on top of you—she fucks you in a way that feels good for you and her and to top it all off, she’s making sure not to waste a drop of her cum 😵‍💫 promises you so many sweet things in your ear after every thrust 🥺 things such as: “i’m gonna give you however many of my babies you want” and even taunting you almost?? “you want that, hm? you wanna be a mommy, my love??” 🤤💕 of course countless nights spent fucking and being a nightmare for your neighbours results in you having a perfectly healthy child in your belly months later 💞 now ik ya’ll were expecting something nasty and allat but gaeul is just . the angel ever so this was mostly just soft hours 😭

rei and her baby daddy moment would come as a welcome surprise methinks 🤓 getting you pregnant was neither planned nor unplanned 😭 yes, she frequently daydreamed about starting a family with her one true love but she wasn’t actively trying to knock you up every time you fucked! in fact, reibear is very careful and strict when it came to protection bcs the last thing she wanted to do was give you a baby you didn’t ask for 💀 so she was shocked in the best way when you gave her the big news with the happiest look on your face 🥺💞 rei would hug you, spin you around, then jump about the room with you before stopping abruptly to ask you if you really are happy with all of this and when you answer “yes” (bcs of course!!), she would jump around with you again 😭😭 ah, rei would be so happy that she’d just pick you up, put you on top of her desk, and give you the best head she’s ever given you in all your years of dating 🥰 and she’d honestly have an obsession with eating you out throughout your pregnancy and it is not just because she’s addicted to your taste! there’d be this whole misunderstanding where you’d start thinking that maybe rei was starting to get the ick seeing your stomach get bigger as her child grows inside you when really she’s… scared to do anything else 💀 hell, you’d even catch rei jerking herself off alone in your shared bedroom and she’d explain that she’d just been afraid to fuck you properly bcs she didn’t want to potentially hurt you and the kid ☹️

ofc you’d reassure rei with both words annnnd… riding her reverse cowgirl style and proving that you can be safe having sex while pregnant! 💕 and now onto actual baby daddy stuff; rei takes it all very seriously to the point where it’s so endearing 😭💘 she’s always on high alert when it comes to your needs and there’s never a moment where she’s far away enough to not immediately be there when you need her, such a sweet girl 🥺☹️ she’s giving your baby bump kisses, caressing it, staring lovingly at you while you take a nap in her arms… SHE’S JUST A WONDERFUL MOMMY UEUEUE 💔💔

wonyoung acts like a kid who has just been given a new toy when you drop the news on her head in the middle of a lovely friday afternoon after coming home from a doctor to confirm that yes, you are in fact pregnant with jang wonyoung’s child! and when i tell ya’ll she’s locked tf IN throughout your entire pregnancy.. 😭 actually leaves work to always be in the house and take care of you, never ever leaves your side, actually loses her mind when you so much as trip on air or get a paper cut, and is clingy and overprotective to the point it’s kinda annoying?? 😭 like you would actually have to sit her down and tell her to not stress about you and the kid bcs she’s already doing so much for the two of you 🥺 ofc she’d calm down then and be a bit more tame around you! 😭💞 ugh, wonyoung would be so sweet… constantly talking to your stomach in this baby voice and getting so happy when she puts her hand on it and feel your baby kick 🥺🥺 seeing you so happy carrying her child just makes her want to make more! and this is where her clinginess became rlly adorable bcs she’d just stare at you with shining eyes and a lil pout… you’d think she’s just being cute for no reason but nopeee~ let your eyes wander down a bit further and you’ll her cock fighting against the fabric of her jean shorts 🤤☺️

wonyoung would absolutely not let you do anything that requires you to do too much so she would actually have you sat on the couch while she’s standing up with her dick all hard and up in your face 😵‍💫 and even though you’re only using your hands and mouth on her, wonyoung is still asking you if you’re doing okay, praising you endlessly, and rewarding your hard work with the loveliest of moans, whines, and the softest hair pulling 🥰 cums all over your face, neck, chest area, and your tits… the sight of her seed dripping down your breasts just gives wonyoung the idea of her newest obsession! wonyoung + lactation kink is just a match made in heaven okay?? it’s impossible to not picture her just getting absolutely turned on at the idea of getting a taste of your breast milk and then actually going ahead to do exactly that when you decide to entertain her fantasy 🤤🤤 and she cums in her underwear while she does it. oops 🤭

[icarryitin]

Episode 24: Trade Deal

spencer reid/gn!reader

i started this bc i was ill and feeling sorry for myself and it turned into a very not to me not if it’s you kind of vibe, mostly bc i frankensteined a couple of my favourite translations of That Scene so they could have their own version🥰🥰

series masterlist

word count: 1.5k // warnings: reader has a cold and all the grossness that comes with it, spencer is so Cute™️ it causes me physical pain

summary: In which Spencer Reid, known germaphobe, pretends he doesn’t know exactly how many pathogens have made their home in your sinuses.

It starts with a scratchy throat on a Tuesday morning.

You don’t think much of it, blame it on seasonal allergies, knock back a multivitamin - you’re not about to be bested by a cough of all things. That is, until it gets to Friday afternoon. You’re trying, you really are. Your immune system has other plans.

“You stay right there, Patient Zero.”

Rossi’s comment would be funny if you didn’t think that laughing might trigger a coughing fit that could very well be the end of you, right there in the doorway of Hotch’s office. That’d be one hell of an epitaph - too stubborn to take a sick day, choked to death in boss’s office. Hotch, at least, already seems to know why you’re hovering.

“I’m-“

“Going home, I hope.” He interrupts you with all the fondness of a concerned father. You don’t have the energy to argue, or to hold up an unaffected front. The men standing by the window soften a little as they watch you visibly deflate. Dave promises to send you his Nonna’s minestrone recipe, there’s nothing it can’t cure; right now, though, you’re only thinking about your bed.

The well wishes follow you through the bullpen, old wives tales and family cures that have never failed. JJ tells you to sweeten your tea with honey, Derek swears that a hot water bottle on your back will work magic. Even Emily pipes up from behind her germ shield, the folder held across her face so you can only see her eyes, and tells you to take a hot shower first thing in the morning - the steam will clear you out for the day. There’s a chorus of agreement, or disagreement you’re not sure. It’s a struggle to hear much over the cotton wool in your ears.

“We’ll see, with any luck I’ll die in my sleep. Love you!” You sniffle as you back out of the office, feeling all kinds of sorry for yourself, and determined to make it as far as you can without touching anything. Lest you actually start the next plague.

Spencer watches you go, shuffling backwards out of the office and turning towards the elevators. He’d elected not to add his own suggestions to the plethora of options supplied by the rest of the team. Unable to focus on much beyond just how tired you look. You’ve been fighting this thing all week, he’d passed over his own supply of hand sanitiser only that morning when you ran out. Ultimately, you put up a good fight, but there’s no cure for a virus. It just has to run its course. Just like his own feelings.

Okay, maybe he shouldn’t be comparing a virus to whatever it is he feels for you. Has felt, will feel - if there’s an end to this tunnel, he can’t see it yet.

“What about you, Spence?”

JJ’s voice pulls him from his thoughts before he can start spiralling down that particular hole. It takes him a moment to recall what they’d been chattering about before your long overdue exit - drinks, right. Yeah, that’s not happening.

“I’m busy, actually.” He shrugs, content to miss out on one night in favour of the plan currently coming to fruition in his mind. They won’t miss him too much.

“Busy? You weren’t busy when we talked about it last week.” Emily makes no effort to conceal her surprise. To be fair to them, it’s not like him to blow them off. There’s just something that’s come up, something decidedly you shaped, that’s far more important.

“Yeah, I forgot. Sorry.”

Spencer doesn’t miss the look that JJ and Emily share, he doesn’t miss the eyebrow that Derek raises in his direction. He simply chooses to ignore them.

At least the walk to your apartment is short, there’s still heat leeching from the plastic bag around Spencer’s wrist as he fumbles with his keys. You’d given him a bright pink key cap, so he’d know which one was yours, as if he wouldn’t know anyway. Eidetic or not, that’s one he would have committed to memory. The excuse had been because he was helping you out whilst you were down an arm, takedown gone wrong, you’d dislocated your shoulder. And then you’d insisted he keep it, because someone should have your spare key, and he’s the least likely of the lot of you to lose it.

He thinks you might be asleep at first, open plan living area lit only by a salt lamp and a set of fairy lights draped over your kitchen window, it’s cosy. And then you appear in the bedroom doorway, wrapped in a jewel toned blanket. The low light is forgiving, but Spencer would be able to spot the bags under your eyes from a mile away. Without his glasses.

“I brought noodles.” He says as he turns back to set the steaming bag on your kitchen counter.

“I’m so gross right now.” As if to demonstrate your point, another cough racks your body. You just about manage to catch it under the swathes of blanket clutched in your fingers, but at least he can’t claim you’re not truly disgusting in this moment.

“I don’t mind.”

You’re so set on denying him entry that you don’t even really register what he said - Spencer Reid doesn’t mind that you’re ill. He doesn’t mind. A younger, healthier version of you would swoon. You might anyway, although that’s probably the vertigo talking.

“You’ll get sick.” Your rebuttal is weak, resolve crumbling. Warm noodles do sound pretty good right now.

“Will you let me help you, please?” It’s the firmest he’s ever been with you. No room for argument, doctor’s orders. So you have to relent. Not that you have much of a choice, he’s already pottering about in your kitchen in search of bowls. As if he doesn’t remember where they are.

“Did you get me a number three?” Your voice is brighter than he’s heard it all week.

“With extra toppings, of course.”

And those extra toppings go down a treat, of course they do.

Spencer watches you carefully as you eat - usually he’d be a little more subtle about it, but there’s not a lot that could pull your attention away from the bowl in your hands. You’re cross legged on the couch, blanket bunched around your middle, happy as a clam. Something his mother would say. He wonders what else she might say, what she might think about the abandonment of his germaphobia. Convenient, probably. Diana would say it with a raised eyebrow and a sly smile, the one that’s just for him. She has always liked you.

He promises he’ll be back tomorrow, once dishes are washed and leftovers are tucked neatly in your fridge, to make sure you get that hot shower Emily mentioned. The steam will definitely help, he’s read about it. Arguing with him would be pointless. You don’t have the energy, he’d only show up anyway, and it’s kind of nice to feel looked after. Spencer’s never failed to make you feel like that. You’re far too delirious to start thinking about that, not while he’s still standing in front of you at least. So you let him tuck you into bed, let him leave a glass of water on the table, let him dote. Pretending is a comfort when you feel as awful as you do. You’re already drifting off before he’s even ready to leave, content enough in your bed with the sound of him in the other room. Just, tinkering.

The sound of your front door opening rouses you the next morning, just about. Just enough to raise your head from your pillow and witness the sorry sight in your bedroom doorway.

Spencer’s trying - key word, trying - to suppress his sniffles, but the red rimmed eyes and tissue clutched in his fist give him away. It’s impossible to keep the sad little smile off of your face.

“Oh no.” You reach out a tired arm to pat the space beside you. There’s enough room for the two of you in amongst the blankets, and Spencer’s so far gone that he doesn’t even argue. His shoes and bag find a home at the foot of your bed as he lets himself collapse into the nest you’ve built. Tension leeches out of his body the moment he hits the mattress.

You have to lean across him to get your phone, right arm outstretched over his back - you can feel the heat rising off of him through his sweater and yours. Fever, that’s day two. Which means he spent yesterday evening taking care of you whilst he began to feel worse and worse. Softie.

“Egg or no egg?”

There’s an affirmative grunt from where his face is buried in your blankets. Egg it is, then. You dial the number mostly from memory, elbow still resting on his shoulder blade when you put the phone to your ear. You feel a little better than you did, but dragging yourself to the front door is still probably all you’ll be capable of today. At least you won’t be suffering alone. The line rings for a moment, then clicks, and a grainy hello sounds from the other side.

“Hi, can I place a breakfast order for delivery, please?”

i’m stuck on which chapter to work on next, do we want angst or yearning or fun flirty activities????🧡

[maxlarens]

⭐️ - Max - prompt: I will ease your mind (from bridge over troubled water) please thank you 🫶🏻 ily darling

You’re fine. It’s Friday. You’re fine.

You’ve got an afternoon and two whole days of being able to pretend your job doesn’t exist. To bury your work phone at the bottom of your handbag and only fish it out Monday morning. To get the tube home, go straight to bed and fall asleep without dinner—

fuck. Shit.

You’re meant to be getting dinner with Max.

That’s why you wore the cute (but still work appropriate) outfit today. The slightly nicer shoes. Your hair is even done. But you’re already on public transport going the opposite way to where dinner is supposed to be. You’re exhausted, you’re sinking into the seat like it’ll swallow you whole. Like if you try hard enough you could teleport straight to your bed.

You sigh, you fish your (non-work) phone out of your bag.

It only rings once before Max has already picked up.

“Schat,” he breathes, worried, like something might have happened to you, “What is it?”

You’re shaking your head, “Nothing. Nothing. Except I got on the tube home, instead of to dinner. It’s— hmm— it’s been a long day. To say the least.”

You hear a noise from him, a contemplative hum, the scrape of a chair, “Where are you? I’ll come get you.”

“I—”, you frown glancing at a map of the stops, trying to puzzle through your memory, “Like halfway to my apartment… I dunno though, Maxie. I’m wiped. I won’t be any fun at dinner.”

You hear footsteps echoing, “You don’t have to be fun for me”, then, “Get off the train, schat. I’ll take you home.”

You hum, “Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I’m already in my car.”

Max picks you up on the side of the road by the train station ten minutes later. You slide into the passenger seat of his car, lean over the dash and kiss him. He mumbles a sweet hello against your mouth, his hand hovering at your jaw, drifting into your hair. After the kiss is finished you press your forehead into his cheek and sigh. A prolonged tired thing.

“Work bad?”, he asks, hand gently cradling the back of your neck now.

“Awful,” you breathe, “So bad.”

“Mm,” he strokes the skin on your neck, “Let me take you home, liefje. We’ll order your favourite.”

“Please,” you murmur, “Can we watch Tangled too?”

Max snickers a little into your hair, “Whatever you want.”

You pull yourself from his grip, kissing his cheek before settling into the passenger seat. It’s not a long drive home, but as it goes on you feel the exhaustion sinking deep into your bones. The work day wearing on you even more now that it’s over. Max can see it on you, the way your thoughts are still fumbling through the issues of the day, the things you’ll have to deal with come Monday.

You’re distracted on the elevator ride to your floor, while you fish your keys from your bag, even as you flick the lights on by the door and set your bag on the kitchen counter. Max trails behind you, crowding you in the kitchen. He puts his arms around you, puts his nose into your shoulder. Kisses the junction of your neck.

“You should quit,” he says, quiet, low— you feel something skitter down into your gut as you lean back into him, “Move in with me and the cats. They love you.”

“Yeah,” you say, fishing for something else, “Do they?”

“Of course, schat,” his breath fans against your ear, “and so do I.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

ohhhhh to have someone tell u to quit your job so they can take care of u. anyway i hope this is kinda what u had in mind🥰 also tangled like is the ultimate comfort movie for me

send me a prompt/request + a driver and i’ll write a drabble. pls check my requests are open first💖

[waughymommy]

MOMMY KNOWS BEST 💞

Chapter 13

            Brian had managed to pull it together enough to get some work done. But as it neared lunchtime, he took notice of his aching bladder. He had tried to ignore the dampness of his pull-up from his earlier episode. It wasn’t by any means soaked, but he would feel better when he changed. He reached into his bag and pulled out a pull-up. He panicked when he realized he would have to sneak it out of his office. It might look odd carrying his work bag into the bathroom. He looked back at the pull-up and thought it was thin enough to wedge it between his waist band and his back and put on his jacket to conceal it. He called Samantha into office.

            “Yes, Mr. Sullivan?, she asked.

            “Um yes, I need you to hold my calls for a few minutes.” He shuffled papers on his desk, trying not to reveal his nervousness. “I think a walk will do me some good, maybe clear my head before the meeting this afternoon.”

            “Absolutely. I think that is a great idea. Is there anything else I can do?” she asked with a genuine smile.

            “You know what, there is. I want you in that meeting with me this afternoon. I want your eyes on this new project.”

She beamed. Although he often asked for her input, he had never brought her to one of these big project meetings. “Yes...yes I will absolutely be there.”

“Excellent. Ok I will be back in a bit,” he said as walked out the door. She watched him as he departed. He jacket was bunched in the back. She could something protruding from the waist of his pants. She couldn’t see it long as he disappeared from the doorway. She thought it crazy, but thought that it looked like a diaper. She was about to make her exit when she dropped her pen. It rolled down by his bag and she bent down to retrieve it. That’s when she noticed a ribbon connected to clip underneath his bag. That was curious. She pulled it free and discovered what was at the other end of the clip: a pacifier. A moment ago, she swore she a diaper sticking out of his pants and now she was holding a pacifier. She was nearly certain that he didn’t have any children. Why would this be here? Then she noticed that it was abnormally large. It looked far too big for any child. Was this his? She clutched it into her hand and walked out to her desk where she shoved it in a drawer.

            Brian nervously shuffled through the office. Brian had always had bathroom anxiety. He hated going into a bathroom with several stalls already occupied. He never understood how people could go so easily with others in earshot. If it looked like a bathroom was quite full, he had no turning around and waiting for another time. He would even walk clear across the building to one of the more secluded bathrooms to have some privacy. That’s where he planned on going now. Although it would take longer to get there, it might be an easier place to change. As it was the lunch hour, much of the office was vacant. Brian breathed a sigh of relief as he reached the bathroom and found all the stalls empty.

            He closed the door behind him and removed his jacket. He stood there for a moment trying to figure out how to do this. If his mommy were here, she would know exactly what to do. After a moment, he realized he had no choice but to completely undress. He slipped out of his shoes and proceeded to strip down. Here he was standing in an office bathroom in nothing but his socks, a onesie and a damp pull up. He never could have imagined this when he left work on Friday. He unfastened the snaps of the onesie and tore off the onesie. He pulled up his onesie while he used the bathroom. His bladder was super full and he felt instant relief. When he finished, he slipped on the new pullup and proceeded to redress himself. This was going to be a big problem if he was going to have to completely undress every time he needed to use the bathroom. He walked out of the stall and placed the used pull-up in the trashcan. He wadded up several paper towels and threw them over top of the discarded pull-up in hopes that no one would see it. He washed his hands and looked himself over in the mirror. He felt confident that his onesie was properly concealed, and he started to make his way back to his office.

            As he passed Samantha’s desk, he flashed a nervous smile and quickly shuffled into his office. He had just settled back into his chair, when she knocked at his door. “May I come in?” she asked through the door.

            Brian exhaled, “Sure.”

            “That was a pretty fast walk sir. Is there anything you need before the big meeting this afternoon?” she asked in a sweet tone.

            He looked up at her with an almost quizzical gaze. She was always a diligent employee, but today she seemed to be extra attentive, almost doting. He couldn’t put his finger on it. “A coffee would be wonderful. I could use a pick me up.”

            “Glady,” and she was off. Brian tried to focus his mind on the upcoming meeting. Today was the first that he had of the Babies R Us project. He didn’t even know they were a client. But why did they want him on the project? He was feeling pensive again and he reached into his bag, fishing for his pacifier. Nothing. His chest grew tight and his stomach was in knots again. He frantically threw the bag on his desk to search the bag more thoroughly. As he searched, Samantha came back in with his coffee.

            “Is everything alright Mr. Sullivan?" she asked with concern. She saw the frantic expression on his face. He tried to make up an excuse that he had momentarily lost his wedding ring.

            He placed the bag back on the ground, “All good. Thank you for the coffee.” She knew that he had to have been looking for the pacifier she found earlier. It probably explained why he was acting so weird. She felt a sudden pang of guilt for taking it, but she had so many questions She guessed her own curiosity possessed her to grab it. For a split second she thought about retrieving it from her desk and returning it. However, with the meeting approaching, it seemed like a bad time. She would wait until it was time to head home.

            The hour of the meeting arrived and the two walked into the conference room. Mr. Gates was already seated as well as several of his other colleagues. “Ah Mr. Sullivan, just the man I have been waiting to see. Please take your seat and we will get started in just a moment.”

            Brian sat down at opened his notebook. Samantha went to take a seat at a chair on the perimeter of the room, but he beckoned for her to sit next to him. “I hope you don’t mind Mr. Gates, I have invited Ms. Carson to sit in on this meeting. I think she might some fresh perspective.”

            “Of course not Mr. Sullivan. Your work for this company has been impeccable. You have been invaluable to this company. Now as you may know, Babies R Us as hired us to help them market a new product line. If we knock this out of the park, they may work with us exclusively. Mr. Johnson here is going to brief us a bit more on the details. The floor is yours sir.”

            Mark Johnson passed around a packet of information to everyone in attendance, “Thank you Mr. Gates. As he said Babies R Us wants us to market this new line of products. As you can see here it is called Mommy Knows Best. It includes everything from diapers and clothing to strollers and furniture. Brian stared down at the line of products listed in the packet. He kept his head down. He prayed he wasn’t blushing too bad. He was sitting in a conference room listening to a presentation on a line of baby products while underneath his professional attire, he was clad in a pull-up and onesie. Samantha noticed his discomfort but recognized there was little that she could do in the moment. Brian struggled to focus and was only partially paying attention. As Mark spoke, he noticed a twinge in his bladder. He shouldn’t have had that coffee.

            Mark continued on, “As you can guess with a name like Mommy Knows Best, we want to drive home that idea that no one knows what’s best for their baby than a mother. We want them to associate this line of product as the best possible decision for all of their baby’s needs.” Brian began to quietly fidget in his seat. He absent mindedly bounced his leg. Samantha had never seen Brian act this way. He was usually so calm and collected. Brian tried to focus, but his full bladder interrupted his concentration. He decided to try and pee a little bit with the hope of reducing the pressure. He took a breath and relaxed his muscles, but instead of just letting out a small spurt, the damn burst. There was nothing he could do to stop it as his pull was being put to its limit. Samantha looked over convinced she heard a hissing sound. Brian tried to look nonchalant, but he was on the verge of panic attack.

            Mark finished his presentation. Mr. Gates stood up and looked directly at Brian, “Mr. Sullivan can we rely on you to handle this project.”

            Brian stammered, “Uh yes…yes of course of Mr. Gates.”

            “Very well then. Thank you everyone,” Mr. Gates said and exited the conference room. Brian stood up without a word. He could feel the weight of his pullup. He was too scared to see if he leaked into his pants. He raced out of the room without waiting for Samantha to accompany him. She had no clue as how to help.

            Brian reached the safety of his office and locked the door behind him. He pulled down his pants to inspect. He could feel that his onesie was damp, but his pants remained dry. He hoped he could make it till the end of the day. He unlocked his door and went back to his desk. As he sat down, he felt the squish of his pull-up. He just wanted to cry. He needed his mommy. He sat staring at his computer screen in a total fog. Finally a knock at the door jolted him from his daze. “Mr. Sullivan is there anything else I can do before I head home?” He looked down at phone and realized the time. “No Ms. Carson. Thank you for all you hard work today,” he said through the door.

            Brian gathered his things and walked briskly out of his office. He reached his car and set his bag inside. He was just about to hop in when he heard his name called. He swung around to see Samantha running towards him.

            “Ms. Carson, is everything ok?” he called to her.

            “I need to apologize to you,” she said while opening her hand to reveal something sitting on her palm. “I found this on the floor of your office. I am so so sorry Mr. Sullivan. I don’t know what I was thinking. I just grabbed it and I shouldn’t have. I have no idea what’s going on. I know you were under a lot of stress today. I want you to know that I am here if there is anything I can do, not only as a coworker, but as a friend. You have always been so kind and respectful to me.”

            Brian’s face could not hide his shock as he took the pacifier from her. He was completely flabbergasted. He tried to speak, but no words escaped his mouth. She reached up and in a comforting manner, placed her hand on his arm. “There is no judgement from me. You are a good man, Brian. Oh and, you might want to get some thicker protection,” and with that she walked away. Brian quickly patted his backside and realized that several wet spots had formed. He hopped down in the car and tried to process what had just happened. He looked down at the pacifier still in his hand. After a moment, he surrendered to his needs and popped it into his mouth and proceeded to drive home.

[xxcallmemaryxx]

IV x GN reader

IV with a little bit of separation anxiety... he just can't keep his hands off you...

He was good at keeping it together. At first anyway… when the two of you were still getting used to each other and adjusting to being together. Nights spent with him in your bed unable to keep your hands off each other, that bled into mornings with him wrapped around you as you sort some kind of breakfast out for you both. It was magical and amazing and kept a goofy smile plastered permanently on your lips. 

But there was downtime too. When he went home for a few nights. When you both needed to prioritise work for a little while. When he went away for tour and was out and about exploring the world and making unreal memories for thousands of people every night. Texts and phone calls became your usual and it was fine. You missed each other, of course, but ultimately it was doable. 

Until he changed. 

The time you’d each spend at your own houses without the other became shorter and shorter as the months went on. IV making himself very comfortable within the walls of your home, it was nice to see honestly. Knowing he felt welcomed and relaxed here was a good feeling. But then when it came time for him to go back home, he’d somehow always manage to convince you to pack a bag and stay with him for a few days then too. 

How could you ever say no to him? 

Eventually, if it came time for you to go back home again for whatever reason. He’d try everything he could to convince you to stay longer. Swearing he doesn’t mind and he wants you with him. He enjoys your presence and how warm his bed is every morning that he wakes up with you in it. 

He pouts when he realises he needs to let you leave. But tells you he’ll be seeing you again in a few days time, leaving no room for argument.

You found it endearing honestly. This beautiful man who loves to spend his time with you. You’d be lying if you said you weren’t flattered, the temptation to just stay with him everyday was very present. But you’d never get anything done if that was the case. He’s very good at keeping you buried underneath his blankets all day. 

He learnt very quickly ways that he could keep you close. Keep you around for longer. Just one more night, that turned into two more nights, that then turned into him convincing you to just stay for the rest of the week and go back home after the weekend. 

“We didn’t end up finishing that show we started… stay tonight and we’ll finish it.”

Spoiler: you don’t finish it that night either. Which IV made sure of.

“Wait, I wanted to cook that one dish for you… we completely forgot about it. Stay tonight, we can go shopping for the stuff tomorrow and then I’ll make it for dinner for us tomorrow…”

Spoiler: he starts dinner kind of late and oh! Look at the time! You might as well just stay again tonight. 

“Oh you should go home? But it’s Friday… just stay for the weekend and I’ll take you home on Sunday night.”

Spoiler: Sunday night rolls around and guess what…

“You have work in the morning? Well, if you stay tonight I’ll drive you in. You won’t have to wake up as early if I take you…”

Spoiler: guess who opts to pick you up from work that afternoon. And oh look at that… you’re back at his house again that night too. 

He begins to run out of ideas though, he can only “forget” to do so many things with you while you’re staying with him. And the panic sets in when he sees you starting to get your stuff together and he can’t think of anything to get you to stay again. 

He knows he has to deal with it. He can’t force you to stay. He wants you to come back. He wants you to want him to come back to your house, and if giving you time on your own is what you need then he’ll give it to you. 

But when he comes back home to a quiet, empty house… he can’t help the tightness that grows in his chest. He locks up for the night and makes his way to bed. The sheets still a mess, just how the two of you left them earlier that day. And his throat constricts when he crawls back underneath them alone. It’s cold. It’s quiet. It’s dark in there. He grabs the pillow you slept on, hugging it into his chest and curling himself around it. He closes his eyes and pretends it’s you he’s curled around instead. Burying his face into it and breathing in, he can still smell you on it. He huffs and reaches for his phone, already typing out the words ‘I miss you’ before he even double checks who he’s sending it too. And he lays awake all night, long after you’ve said your goodnights, feeling just… off. He feels weird. He’s unsettled and he’s tense and he just can’t rid the pit that’s sat steady in his stomach since he got home. 

It gets worse though.

You notice after a while that he cannot for the life of him keep his hands off you. Constantly holding yours. Constantly holding your hips. Constantly resting on your legs when he pulls them onto his lap. (Which is always, if he’s not already snuggled up behind you on the couch.) You’ve caught him a few times with your hands in his, playing with your fingers, massaging your knuckles, running his fingers over the back of your hand. Or kneading the meat of your thighs between his hands absentmindedly. Not even trying to suggest anything, not trying to get you worked up, but genuinely just content because his hands are on you. 

Do you think you can enter another room on your own? Wrong. You can’t. 

Because IV will follow you through the house, around every room and back again. 

The washing machine is done? You need to go hang out clothes? IV’s hand is in yours and you’re walking to the laundry together.

Oh you’re hungry? Need to start on dinner? IV is snuggled against your back as you get stuff ready the whole time. 

Sitting down to eat dinner together, and you dare sit opposite him? He’s playing footsie with you underneath the table. Which will turn into him grabbing your foot and planting it on his lap so he can keep his hand on your ankle the whole time. 

Is he naturally just a touchy feely person? Yes. Yes he is.

But just the thought alone of having to go days without you around drives him nuts. He can’t do it. He feels sick. He can’t sleep. He can barely eat. He needs your presence to function. 

He ponders the thought of driving to your house, packing all your stuff and moving you into his house more often than he’d be willing to admit. You’re with him enough as it is already. You might as well just stay forever right?

.

.

.

MASSIVE CREDITS TO MY POOKIE @ghostlygothicgay !!!!

He gave me this idea, and then we ran rampant with it in our messages.

if you're an IV whore like me, give him a follow, he's so fun to talk too!!!

[adnauseum11]

Situation Awareness (John Price x Reader)

John navigates his over-protective tendencies with you.

1.5k words

minor swearing

feedback welcome!

John absolutely insists on chauffeuring you to and from work for the rest of the week, despite your half-hearted protests. You can admit to yourself that you are less-than- secretly enjoying the break from public transport, able to arrive at work without being harassed or stressed out. Unfortunately, the job is still the bane of your existence. Normally you would be able to shake off the weight of the day before you saw or spoke to John, now however, he’s getting to see you in all your agitated glory. By Friday afternoon, your period arrives and you are deeply contrite. When John picks you up that evening, you feel the need to repent.

He leans over the center console to kiss you hello, as is your new routine. Your whispered, ‘I’m sorry’ against his mouth before you pull back has him raising his brow at you. 

“Sorry for what, darling? You’ve been here all of five seconds.” 

“For haranguing you to death about my stupid job and wanting to quit this week. I got my period today, so that explains that.”

John is silent for a beat, and then surprises you.

“I think if you hate your job you should quit, love. You can get another job eventually.”

“Eventually?”

“Maybe you should take some time and figure out what you would rather do instead.” 

John says gently, reaching across the console to rest his hand on your thigh. The warmth of his hand settles the tension in your body, and you look at his profile as he drives. The late afternoon light catches in his hair and whiskers of his face and you feel a rush of warmth flood your chest. You have to stop yourself from reaching out to touch him. John tilts his head, taking an assessing look at you before turning back to the road, his thumb drifting across the material of your pants. 

“You’re miserable there darling. That’s become very clear. Life’s too short to spend it like that.”

“I was going to chalk it up to my hormones, but really, giving me shit when I’ve been victimized might have been my last straw if I’m being honest. They really don’t give a shit about me.”

“So, leave and find something you enjoy doing. I’d rather see you doing something you believe in, love.”

John’s gravelly voice is earnest. He merges into the exit for the road to his flat, checking his rear-view mirror.

“What would you suggest, Mr. Retired and loving it? I have some savings I guess I could use.”

“Like you said, no time like the present.” John repeats your words from earlier in the week back to you, a small smile playing at the edge of his lips. “Let’s agree to not worry about money, I have enough for both of us until you sort yourself out. Take that out of your equation and focus on figuring out what would make you happy.” 

John turns his fingers up to you and you thread yours through them, his big hand nearly swallowing yours. Maybe because your hormones are all over the place, or maybe because John’s offer is incredibly sweet, but you find your vision swimming with tears in the next breath. 

“John.”

“You alright, love?” He’s all concern, catching a look at your face as he brakes at a red light. You grip his hand and swallow the words that are threatening to spill out, letting them choke you instead. 

“I only want what’s best for you darling.” 

He’s unsure, your reaction making him second guess himself, not something he does often.  

“I know.” You manage to squeak, your throat feeling too thick with emotion to speak.

“I hate seeing you cry, love.”

“Good tears.” You squeeze his hand and he lifts them, kissing the back of your hand. 

You hold onto him for the rest of the short drive back home, John letting you get a handle on yourself in comfortable silence. He doesn’t bring it up again, instead suggesting you change when you arrive home while he putters around in the kitchen, assembling ingredients for dinner. 

You don’t need to be told twice, practically diving into your pyjamas. You steal the plaid flannel shirt he rarely wears, the cheery red calling a bit too much attention for his liking. It swallows you up and you have to roll the sleeves back to have use of your hands, which is how you re-enter the kitchen. John pauses, raising his brow at you as you tuck the sleeve behind your elbow.

“If you’re here to help I would prefer if you weren’t.” He flicks the end of the knife in his hand, shooing you away again. 

“mm, hilarious. I will concede my knife skills are sub-par –“

“Sub-par? Try non-existent.” John corrects, going back to his chopping duties. You huff at him and cross your arms, watching the muscles in his forearms dance.

“- but I can be helpful elsewhere. What else do you need?”

John pauses, looking at you again, his smile fond.

“You can be in charge of wine, go get yourself a glass.”

“Well, that I can manage.” 

You check the ingredients again before taking yourself to the fridge to find a chilled white.

“Is this alright?” 

You ask, holding the bottle out to him. He glances at it and nods, pre-occupied with getting the chicken breasts into the oven. After wrestling the cork out of the bottle, you pour two glasses, John kissing you when you hand his over. 

“Well, if you don’t need me, I’ll be on the couch.”

 You announce, taking your wine and not waiting for a reply. You’ve been slowly turning over John’s offer in the car. It’s tantalizing, the thought of not having to paste on your fake smile every working day. The possibility of a new career steals your focus from the show running on the telly. 

When John joins you a few minutes later, a timer set on his phone, you’ve claimed your usual spot tucked up against the arm rest. John slides in beside you, his arm going over the back of the couch as you resume your familiar positions. You rest your wine glass on his stomach, curling into him as he kicks his feet up onto the coffee table. You let him settle in for a moment before you muster your courage.

“Were you serious earlier?”

John nods, not needing clarification on what it is your asking.

“Of course, love, I wouldn’t tease you about that.”

He tugs the ends of your hair, making you look at him. You delay from saying anything further by taking a sip of your wine.

“Considering it?” He cajoles, watching your face. You bite your bottom lip and look back at him, his blue eyes radiating calm curiosity. 

“Yeah.” You admit, and the triumphant smile that creeps across his handsome face is almost too smug to bear.

“First Christmas together in this place.” John adds. “Might be nice to have nowhere to be over the holidays.” He’s hinting, the season a mere few weeks away.  

You look at him properly at that, his blue eyes focused on you. The corners of his eyes are turned up in a small squint as he tries to gauge your reaction. You juggle your wine into your other hand so you can give in to the impulse to stroke his facial hair, cupping your palm over the wiry hairs. The warmth of his body is reassuring, relaxing your achy muscles. John leans into your touch like a house cat, looking well pleased with himself.

“You don’t have plans with your mates from work this year?”

“If we do get together this year it would be last minute, darling, but nothing slated right now. You?”

That gives you pause, your palm dropping from his cheek to rest lightly on the centre of his chest. 

“No, I was going to work. You know my idiot brother is still in Wales with his family.”

“I’m sure we can find something better to do with your time over the holidays than work.” John’s tone is gently suggestive and you smile, patting his chest.

“I don’t doubt that. Should I do it? Quit my job? It just seems so crazy impulsive after everything this week.”

You can feel the smooth roll of his muscles as he shrugs, raising his eyebrow at you.

“I know better than to tell you what to do, love. Just offering you an out, if you want it.”

You exchange a long look before he gently takes the wine glass out of your hand and sets it beside his on the coffee table. You feel another wash of emotion rush over you when he cups your chin and kisses you, resting his forehead against yours.

“No judgements here. Do you want the out?”

You make a tiny nod, gripping the front of his shirt tightly, suddenly needing a lifeline. 

“Then take it.” His voice is reassuringly confident. 

You hesitatingly agree, your voice soft. You take the opportunity to burrow into John’s side, the comforting wall of muscle and heat grounding your anxieties. You tuck your face into his neck, leaning into his bulk. John makes no effort to shift you, letting you settle into him until his timer goes off and he has to disentangle himself to deal with dinner. He lets you marinate on your decision for the rest of the evening without further comment, his soothing touch eventually lulling you to sleep on the couch.  

Next Chapter

Ao3

Tag list: @deadbranch @beebeechaos @cadotoast @syoddeye @writeforfandoms @itr-00 @chloepluto1306 @batw3nch

[glossdebut]

Take a Bite Ch. 2

✧ PAIRING: yoongi x fem!reader

✧ SUMMARY: Your fledgling career as a music journalist is finally going in some kind of direction that must be on the path to success. Your coworkers like you enough to invite you out on Fridays, your boss is starting to think you’re competent enough to let you score a few bylines, and you're finally getting the hang of InDesign. All of your hard work, late nights, and complete lack of a social life are starting to pay off... Even if it all came at the expense of the longest relationship of your life. Fine. You've accepted the fact that romance isn't for you, under any circumstances. You won't risk your career for anybody. Not even Min Yoongi.

✧ TAGS: slow burn, eventual smut, eventual romance, producer yoongi, music journalist reader, neighbors to friends to lovers? you'll see, reader is bad at feelings, reader is post-break up

✧ WARNINGS: more social drinking in this chapter, horny thoughts from y/n, seokjin is a warning of his own tbh

✧ WORDCOUNT: 3.2k

✧ STATUS: complete

✧ AUTHOR'S NOTE: yoongi being sweet, y/n being terrified, and jin cameo to celebrate his return <3 btw if you're noticing a theme with the chapter titles, let me know teehee. taglist is up, so feel free to join if you want to be tagged in future chapters! clover beat you all to it

Chapter 2: Tell Me What You Want From Me

Unsurprisingly, it’s less than twenty-four hours later when you run into him again. It tracks, now that it’s clear that the universe is dead set on throwing Yoongi in your path, that you’d see him in person before he’s even gotten the opportunity to text you. If he actually was planning to text you, that is.

It’s a little past four in the afternoon, and you’re both making it home from work. It seems that way, anyway, based on the bag slung over his shoulder and his business casual clothes. No one looks good in business casual, but he does. You hate him, you decide.

He’s also holding a huge bag of tangerines, which is… Well, you guess it’s a talking point. If you’re going to be forced to interact again (although you’re very much considering doing the rude thing and just running inside without saying a word) you might as well make up for the last time you saw each other. Last night. Or, this morning, really. You, drunk and drooling over him. Him, stupidly charming and a very good sport.

You’ve been hungover all day, but it started to wane on your way home from work so you decide to do the neighborly thing and talk to him.

“That’s a lot of tangerines,” you say, and you feel a little smug when Yoongi visibly startles at the sound of your voice. Serves him right after making you practically jump out of your skin last night.

He pulls out one of his headphones and grins, raising the bag triumphantly.

"I have a thing about tangerines,” he explains. If that can even count as an explanation. "You want one?"

You can hear your mother in your ear chastising you for taking food from a virtual stranger, but you reason that just because you take one doesn’t mean you have to eat it, and you walk over to his door with your hand out.

“Sure,” you say, eyeing the bag warily. “Only because I’m not convinced you could eat all of those by yourself.”

He hums, staring at your hand as he pushes his door open, tilting his head toward the inside of the apartment in invitation. 

Your eyes widen. You open your mouth to protest, to tell him he could just hand you one, but Yoongi already has his back to you as he walks inside, kicking his shoes off at the door. You linger lamely in the doorway of his apartment. 

“Oh—Uh, are you sure?”

"Would I have invited you in if I wasn't sure?" You continue to linger as Yoongi sets the bag down on the kitchen island. He opens a cabinet, procuring a plate. "I don't bite,” he calls, turning on the tap of his sink to wash his hands.

You tentatively step inside, shutting his door behind you and setting your bag by his shoe rack. You follow his lead, toeing your shoes off before joining him in the kitchen. You watch as he starts peeling the fruit across the island, shifting awkwardly. 

Yoongi's eyes dart toward you for a moment as he continues to peel.

“You're acting like you're scared of me or something. You know I'm not gonna murder you, right?" he asks with a laugh, now starting to separate the sections of the tangerine.

“I know you’re not going to murder me,” you assure him, visibly relaxing a little so as not to look like such a hopeless, awkward freak. 

"Good. Just checking." He holds out a section of the tangerine, offering it to you.

You take it, smiling gratefully, but you let him eat his own piece first. It’s the least you can do, for your poor mother’s sake.

You do a shit job of being subtle as you glance around Yoongi’s apartment while you chew, but it’s not like you’re trying very hard to hide it. It’s a natural curiosity, to be in an apartment with a structural layout identical to your own, but so differently decorated. You feel like it’s not weird to look. 

"What?" he asks as he eats his own section of the tangerine, and when you look back at him his eyebrow is raised in question. 

“Your apartment is cleaner than I would’ve thought,” you say, laughing a little.

“Did you think it would be gross?” Yoongi asks, amused. “Do I give off a gross vibe?”

You snort, because he absolutely does not. If anyone gives off a gross vibe between the two of you, it’s probably you, the sloppy drunk that almost threw up on him last night because he was so hot and so close and you were so wasted. But you keep that bit to yourself. “Not gross. Just… messy?” you offer, snatching another section of the tangerine from his hand. “Not gross, though.”

“Oh, well that’s good,” he teases, starting to peel another tangerine and dividing it in half, sliding one half to you on the plate. “That you don’t think I’m gross, I mean.”

“No, it’s very neat in here,” you hum appreciatively, taking the plate. “The constant bedhead thing you’ve got going on is very misleading.” You point at his mussed hair. If you were a different person, maybe you’d touch it.

He does it for you, though. You watch as he ruffles his hair, smirking at you. “You don’t like my hair?”

“I didn’t say that,” you say. Something about Yoongi makes this back-and-forth come easily for you, and it feels dangerous. You should leave it alone, but you can’t. “Putting words in my mouth.”

He hums, and you watch his gaze flick down to your lips as you say the word ‘mouth.’ “You… have a little…” You watch as he brings his hand up to his own lips, rubbing his thumb at the corner of his mouth to indicate where you have something, apparently.

You hurriedly bring your own hand up to rub at your mouth. He shakes his head, laughing in a way that’s more of a sharp exhale through his nose, and then he’s rounding the counter. 

When he gets to you, he holds your chin, and you hold your breath in return, looking at him with wide eyes as he wipes it away himself.

Something shifts. You can feel the charge in the air as his thumb brushes against your bottom lip, and your heart does that stupid flippy thing again. This is a bad idea, you think. Since when did your life become a cheesy romcom? You don’t have time for this. Based on the sympathy in his eyes last night when you told him that, he doesn’t either. You both just got home from working on a Saturday when you were both drinking last night, for fuck’s sake. But you can’t bring yourself to pull away even as every cell in your body screams at you to run out of his apartment right now, future awkward hallway run-ins be damned. 

And then Yoongi’s apartment door is swinging open, and you’re flying away from him like shrapnel as a broad-shouldered man in a fuzzy pink sweater walks in like he owns the damn place, brown paper bags bundled in his arms.

“Yoongichiiiii,” the man sing-songs. “Your Seokjinie-hyung is here to make you dinner, you cretin!”

Yoongi, who hasn’t moved, who didn’t fly away from you like shrapnel at the interruption, finally breaks eye contact with you to look at the man. Seokjinie-hyung, apparently. 

“Do you have to barge in here, hyung?” he says, with the type of tiredness that can only come from a person who endures this kind of thing five days out of the week, minimum. Can’t relate , you think. There’s nobody breaking down your door to make you dinner. “Can’t you knock, like a normal person?”

“I didn’t anticipate you’d have company, Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin says, waggling his eyebrows and looking at you. “I’m Seokjin. But you can call me oppa.” He smirks. “Unless, of course, you already call him that.”

Ew, for one. You stare at him, your lips parting in shock, because what the fuck do you say to that? You’re completely dumbfounded by this beautiful, broad, gross man. 

“Hyung,” Yoongi says sharply, pinching the bridge of his nose, and you finally find your voice.

“I’m Yoongi’s neighbor,” you say quickly, because this complete stranger does not need to think that you are sleeping with this other complete stranger and calling him oppa, of all things? What planet did you just beam to?

“Okay, Yoongi’s neighbor,” Seokjin says, walking further into the kitchen and setting the grocery bags down on the counter. “That’s a beautiful name. Is it French?”

“Hyung, ” Yoongi repeats, louder this time, smacking the back of Seokjin’s head. “Don’t be an asshole to my guest.”

“Yah, when did you become so disrespectful!” Seokjin says, surpassing Yoongi’s volume, smacking him right back, waving his hands around as he speaks. “Am I not a guest, too? Here I am, selflessly providing you with dinner, because god knows you’re incapable of feeding yourself properly. Don’t think I don’t see the tangerines, Yoongi-yah. Was that dinner?”

Okay, yeah. You are officially a spectator to whatever the fuck this is. You’re convinced that if you try to intervene in any way, you’ll lose an arm, and you can’t seem to get your legs to work to walk out the door, as much as you may like to. You’re frozen to the spot, entranced. 

“You’re an unwanted guest,” Yoongi hisses, smacking Seokjin once again. “And I am a grown man, fully capable of feeding myself.”

“Yes, a grown man whose height topped out at five-foot-seven because of his horrific eating habits,” Seokjin retorts, narrowing his eyes at Yoongi as he starts unpacking the grocery bags. “Do you think these broad shoulders were bestowed upon me by god? They weren’t. It was kimchi-jjigae.”

“Yah, you’re only three inches taller than me, hyung. Don’t get cocky just because of a few inches,” Yoongi complains, and you swear you see him lift onto his toes for just a moment.

“Oh, but a few inches can make a world of difference, Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin practically purrs, and at that you find your voice, because really, enough is enough.

“I should go!” you blurt out, and both of their heads snap in your direction comically fast. Seokjin looks amused, but also like he forgot you were there entirely, which you think is fair. Yoongi, however, looks incredibly guilty. You’d think it’s cute, if you could think anything besides ‘get out while you still can’ right now. 

Yoongi steps a little closer to you, lowering his voice so it’s only for you. You can feel your change of heart before you even process anything he says.

“I’m sorry…” he says, glancing back at Seokjin for a moment. “…For that.” He sighs. “Look, I get it if you want to bolt right now. Seokjin-hyung has that effect on people.”

You hear Seokjin’s cry of protest behind Yoongi, which Yoongi ignores.

“I just don’t want to intrude,” you say. Polite. To the point. Your last line of defense, which Yoongi is quick to crumble with his soft voice and earnest words.

“You wouldn’t be. Despite being a pain in my ass, hyung is a good cook. And he makes enough food to feed an army even when it’s just the two of us,” he continues. “I… You can stay and eat. I’d like it if you did.”

What the fuck is happening to you right now? You can’t even begin to understand why you can’t seem to say no where Yoongi is involved, despite only meeting him less than twenty-four hours ago. 

The only thing that you can tell is that it’s not just because of your attraction to him, as undeniable as it may be. You may be an introverted homebody, but you’re still a woman who gets hit on semi-frequently. If that’s what this was, no matter how pretty Yoongi is, you’re sure you’d still be able to say no. But you’re not saying no.

“…This is all very, very weird,” you say, and Yoongi breathes out a strained ‘ I know, ’ which makes you relax a little. “I’ll stay, if you insist.”

“He insists,” Seokjin says, not even bothering to look up at you as he chops vegetables.

To your surprise, Yoongi doesn’t make any kind of cutting remark in Seokjin’s direction. He just keeps his eyes on you, nods in agreement. 

“I insist.”

So you stay.

★ ★ ★

Seokjin is very insistent about not letting you help in the kitchen.

“Unless he’s chopped off a limb to get out of it in the past ten seconds I haven’t been looking at him, Yoongi-yah has two fully-functioning hands and knows his way around a kitchen. So you just sit and look pretty, and let your oppas take care of everything,” he tells you. 

You hate the delivery of that, really. But you do as he says, and it’s actually pretty nice.

Plus, you get to see just how fully-functioning those hands of Yoongi’s are. You have a fucking front row seat to the capability of those hands. 

It does not help that Seokjin insists on refilling a wine glass for you every time you take a sip, but what does help is focusing on Seokjin’s weird, kind of cute pinky fingers instead of Yoongi’s fucking sinful everything that you want in your mouth more and more as the alcohol warms you. 

The bickering between the two even seems to die down as they cook. It’s clear that the two of them have done this together before, and it even makes you wonder if they lived together for a point in time.

You learn a lot about Yoongi, too. That he works too hard, which he himself had alluded to last night, but Seokjin confirmed with a gusto that makes you think it’s probably worse than you assumed. That he’s completely powerless to his dongsaengs, which Yoongi didn’t even try to deny. That there are seven of them altogether, a close-knit friend group that will always be the seven of them barring death, and maybe even then. It’s all very sweet. 

You’re in the middle of fantasizing about what it would be like to have six friends who love you so much when Seokjin turns the conversation to you suddenly.

“What do you do, Y/N?”

“I’m a music journalist for Look Here Magazine,” you reply, starting to straighten up with pride just as you did last night when you told Yoongi, but something in Seokjin’s expression makes you freeze.

He looks pleased as fucking punch, and you’re beginning to realize that is probably never a good thing.

“Oh, are you?” he purrs.

“Hyung,” Yoongi says warily, but he looks just as confused as you feel.

“You know, our Yoongi makes music.”

“Yes, he told me,” you say slowly, your eyebrows furrowing.

“He’s very good,” Seokjin continues. “Back in college, he used to write all of these raps about eating pus—“

“YAH! Stop!” Yoongi interjects, and when you look at him he is completely pink. You were already pink from the wine, so you would guess you’re fire engine red right now, if the heat in your cheeks is any indicator. 

“You weren’t ashamed of it then, Mr. Tongue Technology,” Seokjin sniffs, doling out rice into three bowls like he didn’t just drop a bomb that you’ll be thinking about for the rest of your life, maybe. Tongue technology.

“I was twenty,” Yoongi complains. “I was young and cocky, and I had an awful group of friends who never told me how fucking stupid I sounded.” He turns to you, although he is barely able to hold eye contact. You’re in the same boat. “Please forget you ever heard that.”

You nod, stiffly. What else can you do? Say you’d like to take that tongue for a spin, right now preferably? No, no, no, no.

“How about we talk about something else?” you offer, quickly. “What do you do, Seokjin?”

That seems like the right thing to say, because even when the three of you finally sit down to eat, Seokjin is still happily going on about his aspirations as an actor.

★ ★ ★

Seokjin rubs his belly happily, slumped against his chair.

“God, I’m good,” he sighs. “Tell me how good I am, Yoongichi.”

“You’re so good, hyung,” Yoongi says flatly.

“Thank you again, for having me,” you say, smiling a little. Despite your apprehension towards Seokjin at first, dinner was surprisingly pleasant and, to his credit, really fucking good. “Both of you.”

“Ah, you should come next time all the kids are around,” Seokjin says, grinning. “It’ll be a hoot.”

Yoongi stays quiet across from you, but he meets your eyes and nods. Flip.

“Well… I’m only two doors down,” you say softly, looking down at your empty bowl.

“Just wait until Jiminie and Jeongguk get ahold of her,” Seokjin says to Yoongi. You don’t know what that could possibly mean, could mean a lot of things coming from Seokjin, but Yoongi rolls his eyes.

“It’s getting late. We should probably clean up,” Yoongi says, starting to stack the bowls. “Do you need a ride home?”

“I’m not an invalid, Yoongi-yah,” Seokjin scoffs. “I can take the bus.” He stands up, snatching the bowls away from Yoongi. “Let hyung clean up and I’ll be on my way.”

Yoongi doesn’t put up a fight, handing off the bowls, and then Seokjin is in the kitchen, leaving the two of you alone for the first time since tangerines and Yoongi’s thumb on your lip.

“Thank you,” you say again, this time just for Yoongi. “It’s been a long time since I’ve had a night like this.”

“I wouldn’t have any nights like this if it weren’t for Seokjin-hyung and the rest of my friends,” Yoongi says, brutally honest in the way you’re figuring out he always is. “When you love what you do, it’s hard to remember that there’s anything else.”

You nod, because you know exactly what he means by that.

“I really know what it’s like. I know we just met last night, but if you ever need…” He shakes his head, putting his words together. He looks unbelievably shy, not for the first time tonight. “Ah, I’m not used to being the one to give this speech. Look, we can hang out, is all I’m saying.”

You realize then and there what Yoongi is offering, and something clicks into place. Friendship. Despite the charged moments, the clear attraction, he’s offering to be someone you can go to. Someone who gets it and won’t judge. It doesn’t feel like pity, either, strangely. This is why you can’t bring yourself to say no to him, you realize. He’s offering you something you desperately need.

You smile, despite the fact that you kind of feel like crying.

“Only if you show me those raps Seokjin was talking about.”

✧ shoot me a reply or an ask if you enjoyed this chapter! feedback is always appreciated <3 join my taglist if you want to be tagged in future chapters!

@dollfaceksj

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[the-kr8tor]

Oh my god i was scrolling through instagram and now i want lifeguard hobie x reader or lifeguard reader x hobie. Like either would be cute and imagine they start talking more and more. Think of how cute itd be. Maybe itd both be when they were teens and now they are looking back on it. Young summer romance and love? And now it could be fast forward where they are at the beach together instead of the pool one of them had worked as a lifeguard at. Heksndnekdksjeabandsk

I chose the first one! Thank you for requesting, bestie! ❤️❤️❤️

Pairing: Hobie Brown x fem! Reader/ Spider-Punk x fem! Reader

Tags: No use of Y/N, no specific physical description of the reader, FLUFF.

ʕ⁠·⁠ᴥ⁠·⁠ʔ

You've been up and down the same whirly slide for at least an hour. It's not even that special, the slide, it's just an ordinary one that has a drop and a short loopty loop. It's so common that there's only a handful of people lining up for it, they prefer to go down the most popular one that has the strobe lights and a hundred feet long tunnel.

You've been going on it for how many times that you've lost count and going down the slide isn't even as fun anymore. The number of times you've gone up and down has significantly made it less thrilling. You're sure that your friends might think you're crazy because you've left them for a water park slide. But they don't know that it isn't the slide that you've grown fond of, it's the hot lifeguard that keeps smiling and making conversation at you while you're in line.

Your hair clings to your wet face and you stink of chlorine but the lifeguard that you only know from his nametag still beams at you like you're the only person in the entire water park. ‘Ned’ once again greets you at the top of the slide, chiseled face shining in the late afternoon sun. It's that late and you have no idea or concept of time anymore because of the fit bloke talking to you about how Olympic synchronized swimmers need to put gelatin in their hair so it doesn't mess up their routine and thermodynamics.

“A bit weird, innit?” He taps the yellow floatie in his arms, rubber squeaking as the familiar rush of water filters in your ears. “Imagine me using that instead of hair gel before a show. Less mess I bet,” he blinks, the cogs in his head turning. “Huh, I guess it's not that bad. It'll last longer too.”

You look behind you, expecting a few people waiting their turn, to your happiness, you find no one. You've got the slide all to yourself, or him for that matter. “I guess so, but wouldn't it be hard to take it off?” You're intrigued by the word ‘show.’ Your new friend has a side you never knew in the last two hours you've been chatting with him.

“I might buy one of those little shovels to get rid of them.” He shrugs, and you tilt your head, wanting to get to know eachother better especially now that the water park is about to close. “Just scoop it out y’know.” He gestures like he's digging in his head.

“Or you could ask for help.” Your heart hammers in your chest, hoping, praying to any entity out there listening to you that he wants to know you too.

He chuckles, piercings shining, laugh rumbling in his throat. “You volunteerin’?”

You inhale, trying to act nonchalant by leaning over the mouth of the slide. Arms crossed on your torso, you finally ask. “If you want to, I'm curious about those shows you're in.”

Nodding, his heart pounds with excitement. “I'm in a band, love. If you'd do me the honour.” Your hands are getting sweatier and sweatier, you don't notice your body slowly sliding downwards. “Do I have to dunk my hair in gelatine so you'd come to our show next week on Friday at the white horse pub at eight pm?”

“It's not a prerequisite. And that was very smooth, Ned, very smooth.”

His loud laugh echoes, you're sure that the entire park heard it louder than the thrumming of your heart and your big fat crush on the lifeguard. “Thanks, love, but uh,” he leans forward, you can see every green speck in his hazel eyes. “My name isn't Ned.”

“W-what?” With one wrong foot over the other, you slip and fall inside the slide, ‘Ned’ gets smaller and smaller by the second you're inside. “What's your name then?!” Your voice echoes inside the plastic, warbling as you go down the slide. “Fuck!” You plunge into the pool, water in your ears and eyes as you swim up and cough out chlorine filled water. “Goddamnit,” you splash the water with your hands, frustrated that you might've lost who could've been the love of your life. At least you know where his band would be playing.

“It's Hobie.” His voice suddenly appears above you, hand reaching downwards to help you. Chest noticeably heaving, sweat dripping down his temple. He ran down the long steps to get down to you as fast as he could.

“What?” You splutter, not the most attractive thing to do.

“My actual name, it's Hobie.” ‘Hobie’ points at his nametag. “I nicked this from a friend so I could get in for free, the manager found me so now I had to work a shift. But I could think of one good thing that happened to me today though.” His smug smile makes you hide under the water.

“You could've started with that, Hobie.” You reach towards his helping hand. “You do not look like a Ned—!” With a pull, you yank him inside the pool. You laugh, and he resurfaces drenched from head to toe.

“Cheeky.” He wipes his palms on his eyelids and he blinks at you standing over him.

“I'll see you on friday, Hobie?” You saying his name is music to his ears, or that might be the water in his ears. But the sight of you with the backdrop of the cotton candy orange sky makes his thwarted evil plan all worth it. “I'll bring the gelatine.”

“And I’ll brin' the little shovel.” Hobie smiles up at you. Maybe he should bring something nice to Ned as a thank you and compensation for almost getting him fired.

[darlingshane]

Professor Castle II

Frank Castle x F!Reader

Summary: Frank takes you to Curtis' wedding in Florida as his date.

CW: 18+. Explicit, Smut, Angst, Romance, Fluff, Vaginal Sex, Fingering, Mutual Masturbation, Kissing, Feelings, Age Gap, Professor/Student relationship.

Word Count: 6.5k

— Links: First Part // AO3.

A/N: I wasn't planning on adding another part to this, but this idea came to me as I was finishing the first one and I had to write it. There are a lot of mixed feelings and romance and smut. And we also get to know how reader and Frank got together in the first place. Billy and Dinah have a significant appearance here, and Billy is kind of a bitch. I can never bring myself to see him in a better light, even in an au like this.

It's Friday afternoon, after a hectic day of work and classes, that you get on a flight to Florida to accompany Frank to one of his best friends’ wedding.

It feels like a pretty surreal experience that he wanted you to come along, and that you also said yes. The last time you were invited to a wedding you were probably eleven or twelve and were seated at the kids’ table. Going to an affair like this as an adult with your very grown-up, secretive boyfriend feels like skydiving with no parachute.

It's already dark by the time the plane lands in the evening. The knot in your stomach tightens as you get off the plane. You were already nervous before taking off. Once your feet touch ground in Florida you wish you had a longer flight. It all happened so fast you didn't have time to prepare yourself for the idea of meeting Frank's friends. It's basically like meeting his family. Whenever you've heard stories about Billy or Curtis, he always talked about them as if they were blood brothers. So the whole thing becomes more scary the closer you get to the hotel.

There's a sudden shift during that half an hour ride to your destination. Internally, you feel like you still should hide your relationship with Frank, but he's been holding your hand the entire way there. You can't bring yourself to process how good it feels not having to care about if someone might see you or not. For months, being constantly alert is all you've done. It was exciting at first, but not as much as having his big paw holding your hand out in the open while the shuttle driver asks if you're here on vacation.

The building you arrive in sits so close to the ocean you can hear the waves crashing on shore and smell the fresh saltwater lingering in the air before you get out of the vehicle.

Once you've checked in, you get to a lovely room on the third floor with a view to the pool where a group of people enjoy an evening dive. You open the door to the balcony to let the air in, while Frank checks the rest of the room.

“Are you okay, baby?” Asks Frank as you lean on the railing outside.

“Yeah, just a little tired.”

“Well, there's a bed right here.” He points out before opening his suitcase on the mattress to take out his suit.

“It looks like a nice bed.” Glancing over your shoulder, you watch Frank straightening the fabric before hanging it in the closet.

When he's done, he joins you on the balcony, linking his arms around your waist.

“Should we go out to dinner or stay and order room service?” He softly kisses your nape.

“Hm, I'm fine with either. What do you wanna do?”

“Well, It'd be nice to go out since we never get to do that. But on the other hand, we haven't been really alone for a couple of weeks, and I was really looking forward to having you all for myself tonight.”

“It's still early, my king. We can do both.” You tuck your arm back to caress his jaw.

“Yeah? I thought you were tired.”

“I'm also hungry. Let me change and get rid of the airplane smell, and we'll go exploring.”

You unpack your suitcase and hang the outfits you picked for the next couple of days next to Frank's, which is such a bizarre thing to do. It's going to be an interesting weekend without having to put much thought into the secrecy of your relationship. Something as simple as just holding hands or letting your clothes live next to his, even if it's just temporary, makes you feel that normalcy most couples have. You wonder if this is what the future holds for you and Frank. It begs to question if this is the future you want with Frank.

Both of you freshen up and change into clean clothes. You slip into a long skirt with a halter top in your favorite color and a pair of sandals while Frank dons a pair of black chinos and a brown polo shirt.

Heading downstairs you go straight to the restaurant, sit at the bar and order some drinks first while you wait for a table.

“What?” you're chewing on the end of a straw when you notice Frank stare weirdly fixed on you. “Do I have something on my face?”

“No, you’re perfect.” His gaze beams full of wonder. “I just… Look at you. You're so beautiful. I can't believe you're here with me. I thought we'd never get to be out like this.”

“It’s kinda weird, isn’t it? But in a good way.”

“Yeah. C’mere,” his hand slides along your jaw and stops at your nape. A flick of his tongue swipes his lips before planting a wet one on your mouth. It lingers for a moment before diving for a deeper taste. It takes you off guard, and you almost want to pull back as soon as the tip of his tongue escapes past your teeth. It’s when it tries to meet with yours that you awkwardly pull your head back. His palm massages the back of your neck as you press your forehead against his, feeling a pang of sadness thrum in your chest.

“What’s the matter, sweetheart?”

Your head slightly shakes, as you look down at your hands holding his forearm on your lap.

“I just… I feel like everyone is staring at us.”

“Let’em.”

“Frank.”

“Baby, I’m serious. Nobody is watching us. Look around,” his hold loosens around your neck and your head swivels to see that in fact no one is interested in whatever you and Frank do. “Are you embarrassed to be seen with an old man like me?”

“You’re not that old.”

“That wasn’t a no.”

“I’m not embarrassed to be with you, Frank. I… I wish we could do this all the time like normal people do. It feels like after this weekend, we’ll never get to do this ever again. I know we just got here, and I’m just being dramatic, you don’t have to say it. But uh… it makes me sad we can’t go out like this at home.”

“Baby, I get it. I wish I could have you like all the damn time. It breaks my heart to see you every day and have to remind myself not to look at you or touch you or kiss you.”

“Sorry for bringing you down with me. It's been a long day. And being here with you is a little overwhelming. It's brought a lot of stuff to the surface I never even considered before. I see it comes out so natural for you to do something like holding my hand or kissing me, and I feel bad that there’s this weird thing blocking me from enjoying that.”

“Hey, don't apologize.” Frank sighs before gently pressing a kiss on your forehead. “I'm the one who's sorry for not realizing sooner that this was a bigger deal for you than I thought. I just wanted you here so badly, I didn't think what this meant for you– for us. How about we go back to the room, order something, put on a movie and take it slow.”

“No, it's okay. I'll be fine. I wanna get used to this. I wanna be here with you, Frank.”

“Yeah?”

Drawing a smile, you simply nod and squeeze his hand a little harder.

“Have I told you how beautiful you look tonight?”

“A couple of times. It doesn’t hurt to hear it again.”

Your lips pull up a little higher, as you lean forward to attempt to resume the kiss he started.

“Mr. Castle.” The restaurant’s hostess interrupts you just as you press your lips against his. “Your table is ready.”

She guides you to a table by the window with a view to the beach.

“Your waiter will be right over,” she politely says before going to fetch more people to place at the empty tables.

Despite being still a little nervous about the whole thing, you’re so over the moon with Frank, that it's easy to relax more and more in his presence. He knows how to smooth things over with just a few sweet words or an adoring glance framed by those glasses that really show the beauty of his eyes. You never thought he'd be this casual and forward when it came to showing public displays of affection. You're both overly cautious, but here, it's like he's flipped a switch in his head and all his problems are gone. Despite his impromptu decision the other day when he tried to break up with you, it feels like he's been dying to be able to show the world that you're his, and he is yours. You adore that about him and try to ease your mind into being more present right here and let go of all those worries that sadden your heart. Even if it's just for two days, you should be able to enjoy what you got.

By the end of your meal, you’re halfway through your dessert when a couple approaches the table.

“Hey, Frankie!” Billy, who you recognized from one of Frank’s pictures, makes him stand from his seat to give him a hug.

“Bill,” he addresses him before looking at the woman by his side. “Hey, Dinah. Good to see you again.”

“Yeah, good to see you, too.”

“And you must be the mystery woman Frank never told us about until a couple of days ago,” Billy directs his attention to you as you extend your hand in his direction.

“That’s my name, don’t wear it out.”

“Oh, she’s funny.”

“You have no idea.”

They both shake your hand as Frank sits back down.

“Thought you were going to turn in early like the rest of the party.”

“That was the plan, but we decided at the last minute to come down. You guys wanna join us?”

“No, we’re going to this swing by this bar down the street. You should come.”

“We've already had a couple of drinks,” Frank says. “We were about to call it a night.”

“C’mon, just a nightcap. It’s been a while since we’ve seen you. And you just can’t bring a date to Curt’s wedding and not properly introduce her like she deserves.”

Frank glances at you and shrugs, “you wanna go?”

“Just one drink?”

“Just one drink,” Billy repeats. “I mean if you’re old enough to drink.”

He says so casually it throws you off, but you’re quick to reply when you’re nervous.

“I’m going to pretend you didn’t say that but yes, I’m old enough to drink.” You prove it by lifting the almost empty cocktail glass from the table and bring it to your mouth to finish it.

He mimes his fingers zipping his mouth as Dinah gives him a look and Frank hangs his head down.

Once the momentary awkwardness has passed you choose to follow them down the boardwalk to a crowded bar at the end of the street. You take a table outside and order some drinks. You go for another cocktail, the guys have a couple of beers and Dinah settles for scotch on the rocks.

“So, Frankie here has strictly forbidden us to ask you questions. What is he trying to hide?” Billy stares at you from the other couch with his elbows leaned on his knees.

“I didn't say that. I only asked you to not give her the third degree.” He scoffs.

“It's okay.” You laugh, placing a palm at the small of Frank's back. “What do you wanna know?”

While Billy questions you about your life, where you come from, what you’re majoring in, what your hobbies are… Frank tries to remain not too bothered but often chimes in to say – you don’t have to answer that, when Billy pokes into something way too personal.

Almost through with your cocktail you stand up and head to the bathroom and Dinah stalks behind you.

“Didn’t realize you were coming too,” you say when you notice her holding the door after you step into the room.

“Yeah, I needed a break from hearing Billy talk. Don’t mind him, he always had a big mouth. It’s pathological, but he’s harmless… for the most part.”

“He’s… intense,” you say for the lack of a better word. “How long have you two been together?”

“Oh, we’re not together together. We just hang out sometimes.”

“You could’ve fooled me.” You lean on one of the sinks while Dinah fixes her makeup.

“How long have you been dating Frank?”

“Hm, almost a year.”

“You know, I dated a teacher once at the academy, but it was nothing like you and Frank.”

“How so?”

“He didn’t take me as a plus-one to a wedding for starters. It was just sex. I can see that it’s more for you and Frank. Is it?”

“I uhh… I think it is. It’s crazy that he invited me here.”

“Yeah, he’s been moping around for a couple of years since his last girlfriend. It’s good that he has you now. How did that happen?”

You can see that Dinah and Billy have more in common than she lets on. They definitely share the same hunger to gather information from anyone. You don’t mind them poking around to know more about you. It’s actually refreshing being able to talk about you and Frank for the first time, and if Frank has told them about you, it means that he trusts them.

“Well, it’s not an interesting story. We didn’t fall in love at first sight, or shared longing glances across hallways, or pass secret notes, and shit. He uh… we used to go to the same café outside campus that has the best coffee. One day I saw him trying to pay with his phone cause he forgot his wallet, and it wasn’t working cause he’s technologically inept to handle any app. So I paid for his coffee. The next day he paid for mine and I helped him manage his digital wallet. We started taking more and more outside class. We would walk together back to campus. Over time, it took us longer and longer to make it back. We would stop at this park to look at the ducks in the lake. Sometimes we fed them to stall. Though neither of us gave a shit about the ducks-”

“Of course,” Dinah softly smiles at your remark.

“Then I’d tell him I’d be at this art show, or go to this movie, whatever shit I was doing, hoping he’d show up, and he did. It was like that for months, one day we looked at the other, and we knew… I guess we fell in love. And at the same time we realized that we couldn’t see each other like that anymore. So we stopped hanging out. That lasted like three weeks tops. We were both miserable.”

“And then what happened?”

“I… it was the end of the semester, before finals, I had my first play, and he came to see it.”

“He came to see you.” She accurately points out.

“Right. Once it was over, he went backstage to say hi to everyone. I… before he left I said to him to wait for me in his car and he did. After everyone left, I headed out to the parking lot, got in the passenger seat and told him to drive. We talked for hours, trying to convince ourselves once more that we couldn't be together, that I'd never work, but it didn't matter. We made a choice and now here we are. We’ve been hiding for months and it…”

“It finally feels right to say it out loud.”

“I think so… I can’t tell anyone else in my life right now. It’s hard to trust anyone with a secret like that. But if Frank told you I guess I can trust you.”

“You can. I get it. Sometimes you can't choose who you fall in love with.”

“How come something that’s supposed to be wrong feels so right at the same time?” You’ve been wondering for months.

“That’s a complicated question, sweetie. But it’s usually the things that are supposed to be wrong that feel the best, unfortunately.”

Meanwhile, outside, Billy grills Frank a little more about you on a totally different approach than Dinah’s.

“C’mon, Frankie. You can’t be serious. You know you could lose your tenure if they find out.”

“They’re not going to find out.”

“If it was just sex I’d get it. I’ve had my fair share of coeds. The difference is that I’m not their teacher, well, sometimes they like to pretend that I am, if you know what I mean. But you’re bringing her to Curt’s wedding, as your date. That’s nuts.”

“Why is it so hard to believe that I love her?”

“Cause you haven’t been with anyone since Maria and the first person you date is one of your students. Does it sound sane to you? Are you having a midlife crisis or something?”

“You know, out of everyone, I thought you'd be the last one to judge, Bill.”

“I'm not judging you, Frankie. I'm just checking that you haven't completely lost your mind. Someone has to. You look like you're willing to risk it all out for her. Is she worth all that, your job, your reputation, your precious principles? I thought you had a code.”

“She's absolutely worth all that. Can you say the same about Dinah? When are you going to stop playing with her?”

“Me? She's the one who calls the shots. She's the one playing with me.”

“Yeah, sure.” Frank scoffs before taking a swallow of his beer.

“Okay, let's just say it's a game we both love playing. I use her, she uses me, it's a win-win situation.”

“Until someone gets hurt.”

“Well, some people like that. How are you keeping up with her?”

“What do you mean?”

“I mean bed wise. I know from experience that twenty-year-olds are like feral cats. Can you handle something like that?”

“Jesus, Bill. You're fucking disgusting sometimes. Don't talk about her like that.”

“What? Have you forgotten how you were at her age? You were either fucking or thinking about fucking.”

“Not everything is about sex.”

“Right, so you're not having sex.”

“That's none of your business.”

“Well, if you're so willing to put your ass in the line, I hope you're getting at least something out of it.”

“That's all that is for you, huh? You never do anything unless you're getting something in return. Everyone and everything is trading businesses for you. Even love.”

“Love is for children, Frankie. Never did anything good for anyone. Look at you… Every woman that ever touched you left a deeper mark than the last one. I’d rather be shot a hundred times than having to carry imaginary scars. What do you think is gonna happen when she's done with you? You think a girl like that is ready to commit forever?”

“You're so full of shit, Bill. You talk big game, but you never made it past the side lines. If that's where you wanna stay there, fine, but don't pretend you know how it feels to put yourself out there and offer yourself without expecting anyone to hand everything to you right away.”

“You used to be more fun.”

“Well, your idea of fun is different from mine.”

“Hey, what did we miss?”

Dinah and you return to the table that seems to have gathered a visible dark cloud over them.

“Nothing, get your stuff. We're going back to the hotel.” Frank barks, promptly rising from his chair.

“Are you ready to tell me what happened between you and Billy?” you straddle Frank's lap on the bed. He's taken off his glasses and most of his clothes and the only thing left is his boxer briefs. You tried to pry on the way back here, but he was clearly still upset about something. Now that he's more relaxed you try again while you comb his hair with your fingers. “Was he mean to you? Do you want me to kick his bony ass?”

“I'd like to see that,” he chuckles as his palms smooth the bare skin of your thighs. “There's nothing to tell, sweetheart. He's just an asshole sometimes. I'll get over it. C'mere.”

He tucks a finger under your chin and pulls your face closer so he can seize your lips. You can tell he's trying to distract you from asking further questions but if he's not ready to talk about it then there's nothing you can't do right now. You happily accept his affection and quickly melt in the slow undoing of his tongue as it finds yours. It's easy to forget and forgive when he has you like this. All rational thought abandons you and suddenly your hips are grinding against him, following the same rhythm as his tongue as it becomes more eager to please you. His hands hold tight to your hips, coaxing you to feel him growing hard between those layers of underwear keeping your flesh from coming to close contact.

“God, I've been dying to have you like this, sweetheart,” his breathing falters between sloppy kisses.

“I know.” You break from his mouth and press your forehead against his, gazing down at the spot where your centers rub together to see his cock bulging up like mad.

Frank gets a hold of your top and swiftly pulls it over your head so he can kiss your tits. He buries his face in your chest while your arm curls around his nape. He's all tongue, teeth, and lips inciting your skin to come alive into tiny pimples. He sucks a nipple into his mouth, hums around it, and bites hard as you let out a breathless gasp when his teeth sink into your flesh. Before it starts hurting he releases it to see a faint mark around the circumference.

“Fuck me.”

“Yeah?” Biting his bottom lip, he draws the shape of your jaw with a finger before shifting positions with you to have you on your back. That same finger traces the length of your torso all the way down to your underwear. He takes a full sight of you for a beat before yanking your panties off you and pushing his boxers down.

His feet shimmy out of the fabric, as he lowers himself on top of you, letting you meet his full erection that throbs over your tender, slicked flesh. His warm breath heats up your face when he presses his parted mouth at the corner of your lips. He viciously rubs himself against you, collecting your juices all around his cock. Then he buries himself inside you as your whole body trembles as usual. Every time he penetrates you like this, the most thrilling chill takes over your body before you can even come. It settles at the back of your head, as all your senses are taken by that powerful lust force that you can’t control. Each thrust of his hips, each kiss, and lick, and word whispered in your ear takes you closer to heaven. He fucks you with mind, body and soul, like real men do, making you come with ease each fucking time.

“Tell me you love me,” you moan against his jaw, while you dig your nails on his back.

“I love you. I fucking love you, sweetheart.” He desperately pants as the pace of his hips becomes more urgent.

“Tell me you need me.”

“Of course I need you. All the damn time.”

You both gradually lose your ability to breathe the closer you get to orgasm. His sweat sticks with yours as your bodies melt together in that haze of love and lust bubbling all over the room.

“Tell me you’re never going to leave me again.” It sounds needy as you say it, but you need to hear it over and over, especially now.

“I promise…fuck. I promise I’m never gonna leave you again, baby.”

One of his hands clutches to your hips to keep you still while he fucks the light of you with unbridled passion. You can feel every inch of your body vibrating to the sound of his skin slapping on yours. Your breath comes out forced in short breaths as he makes that final effort that tips you over the edge. Your walls flutter and contract around his cock for a moment as you reach the top of your climax.

“I’m gonna… fuck,“ you’re squeezing him so hard, he just spills all of himself inside you while you ride that tide that makes your vision blur and ears ring for a moment while he tries to tame his own orgasm.

When you come to your senses, he’s dead weight on top of you, limp and hot, kissing your neck softly while he regains his breath. You can hear your own heartbeat in your ears still as one of our hands blindly glides up his back.

“You’re fucking amazing, you know that?” his voice comes out hoarse.

“I know.”

“What you asked me to say… you know I mean it, right?”

“I think so.”

“Are you still scared that I’m gonna leave you?”

“A little, yeah. I… it was just seven days ago when you told me that you didn’t want to see me again. I know you didn’t mean it and that you only wanted to keep us safe, but it was a hard week, Frank. I’m not mad at you. It’s just been a roller coaster of emotions, and now we're here together, playing like a normal couple and I can't help but feeling a little insecure about all of it. Not just you.”

“I'm sorry,” he shifts on top of you, lifting his head so he can capture your eyes. “I really am. I hate to make you feel that way. I know it's confusing but you gotta know something. You… You're all that matters to me. I’d die without you, sweetheart.”

“Now, who’s the dramatic one?”

“I only learned from the best.”

The next day, the wedding ceremony is set at noon.

Half an hour before the event, everyone starts gathering at the lobby to walk together to the beach. Frank holds a palm at the small of your back while he introduces you to Curtis finally and a handful of friends. He manages to avoid stumbling onto Billy altogether.

When you get to the beach, Dinah beckons you to take a seat next to her on the fourth row. Meanwhile, Frank stands next to Curt in the makeshift altar framed by swaying palm trees and a spectacular backdrop of vibrant blue skies adorned with wispy clouds and a blinding sun. Right by the groom’s side also stand Curt’s brother and Billy, who seems to be feeling the icy chill of Frank’s cold shoulder. You’ve never seen him this mad at anyone before and by the way Billy occasionally glances at you and Dinah, you start to wonder you're the cause of their rift.

Frank has traded his glasses for aviators and shines so handsome in a navy blue suit with a white dress shirt and no tie. Everyone is dressed in light fabrics and bold colors. You’ve chosen a floral romper and wedges.

Waiting for the affair to start, as you produce a pair of shades to shield your eyes from the sun, Dinah lightly touches your arm.

“You know I don’t agree with Billy at all,” she says coolly as if you had any idea what's going on. “I told you he was harmless, but he can be a real asshole sometimes.”

“I…” You glance at her, trying to gather some thoughts cause you’re really lost right now.

“Oh, Frank didn’t tell you?” She realizes by your expression. “I'm so sorry. I thought you knew.”

“No, he didn't tell me. I asked him. He said that it was just Billy being Billy. But I could tell it was more than that.” You're afraid of asking but if it's something about you, you have the right to know. “Bill doesn't like me, does he?”

“It's not that. He believes Frank isn't thinking clearly when it comes to you. Said you're just an infatuation that's going to get him in trouble. I'm sorry that you had to hear it from me. Frank should've told you.”

“It's okay. It's nothing that he and I hadn't thought of before. It's hard to hear it from someone else's mouth though. I guess that's why he didn't want to tell me.”

“Are you okay?”

“Yeah, it'll be fine. I don't know Billy enough to care about what he thinks. It's me and Frank that matters.”

“You have more class than me. I'd definitely get back at him if he tried to alienate anyone in my life like that.”

“It's not really my style. He can think whatever he wants. It's a free country.”

“I shouldn't tell you this but… just so you know he didn't get any of this last night. After you and Frank left he kept whining like a bitch and I just had it with him.”

“Oh God, I'm sorry.”

“Don't be. It's not your fault.”

When the music starts playing, everyone rises from their seats to watch the bride walk down the aisle. They exchange bows under the most stunning setting you’ve ever seen. Though you don't know Curtis and Delia besides Frank’s stories, it's straight up lovely to see two people in love celebrating their joy with family and friends.

Once they’ve sealed the ceremony with a kiss, they cross the aisle together as husband and wife between joyful cheering and applause.

Then, the party moves to the reception in a locale nearby. It's held outside under a canopy of flowers and fairy lights illuminating the array of tables framing the dance floor. The food is served buffet style and your plate is 90% filled with shrimp when you take a seat next to Frank.

“Did you leave some shrimp for the rest?”

You simply shrug, amused, “you snooze, you lose. That's the rule of the buffet. Are you nervous about your speech?”

“A little.”

“Just pretend you're in class giving a lecture.”

“Yeah, I'll try that.” He gazes at you as he brings a piece of salmon to his mouth.

“And if that doesn't work, you know what they say… picture everyone naked.” You start stuffing yours with pieces of shrimp.

“I don't see how that'd be better. I don't wanna see any of these people in their birthday suits.”

“Then focus on me and my birthday suit.”

“I'll try that.”

Frank, of course, despite having some jitters about that best man speech he just has the right words to say about Curtis and Delia. He even makes everyone laugh with a couple of heartfelt jokes about his friendship with Curt. It's really endearing to see him among his people. You can tell that he's made a tight-knit group of loyal friends that'd be there for him for the rest of his life.

As the day progresses, and the alcohol starts taking effect a few people step into the dance floor. You spot Dinah dancing with Curtis’ brother and Billy sweet-talking to one of the bridesmaids by the buffet.

“You having a good time, baby?” Frank's arms circle your waist while you pick a glass of wine from the bar.

“I'm having the best time. Everyone is really nice.” You take a sip of your glass.

“I told you that there was nothing to worry about. Everyone loves you.”

“Well, not everyone.” You tilt your head to the side to point at Billy. “You should've told me what happened.”

“I didn't want to upset you.”

“I'm not upset, Frank. Like I told Dinah, I don't know him enough to care about what he thinks. I know you were trying to protect me, but you don't have to.”

“It's not that, sweetheart. I'm just tired of having the same conversation. We know what we're up against. Figure I could save you the headache of going through all our faults again. There was no point in telling you all the bullshit that came out of his mouth.”

“Well, that's good to know, but I don't want to hear it from other people either. If he said anything about me, I have the right to know, don't you think?”

“He didn't say anything specifically about you, baby. It was mostly about me choosing to bring you here.”

“But it really upset you. You should've told me.”

“I know, I'm sorry,” he kisses your jaw. “How can I make it up to you?”

“Hm… let me think,” you sway your hips, making him move with you. “I think a dance will suffice.”

“Sweetheart, I love you, but I can’t dance to this.”

“I can wait for a slow one.”

“Alright, but just one song.”

“Got it.”

As much fun as you had with Frank dancing without a care in the world, there's nothing like being back in the hotel room to rest for the night. Mingling with that many people can be exhausting and though you had a great time, you revel in the quietness and comfort of these four walls. To wash out the day of your skin, you take a shower together. Then you lay naked on the bed, face down with our arms tucked under your head while Frank's hands massage your back. His fingers knead all the right spots until you’ve completely relaxed before feeling his lips pressing soft kisses all over your spine. One of his hands slips between your thighs. You separate your knees further apart to make room for it as he softly massages your sex. His palm gently rubs back and forth while he presses his mouth to your ear.

“How does that feel, baby?”

“Good. So fucking good,” you hum. “Don’t stop, please.”

“You gonna make a mess for me, huh?” you notice one of his fingers slipping between your folds to feel those early drops of arousal. “Yeah, you always do.”

You laugh to yourself as he presses a little harder, drawing mind-numbing circles around your clit.

“God, I love you so much.” You lightly wave your ass at his touch, aching for more fiction.

Frank takes the hint and uses his index and middle fingers to rub harder around your hardened nub as he presses his semi-hard against your hip.

“Look what you do to me,” his breathing echoes in your ear, while he rubs himself on your skin. “You proud of yourself?”

“Not quite. You should be harder already,” you turn your head to look at him and move your closest hand to grab his length.

He laughs against your mouth before sending his tongue to taste your kiss.

Mutually serving the other, his cock grows harder in your fist, as you melt around his fingers when they invite themselves into your opening.

“Open your legs a little more, sweetheart,” you heed his command. “Attagirl.”

His thick fingers quickly are wrapped in a sheen layer of your juices as he pushes them in and out repeatedly, letting your arousal drip on the sheets. At the same time, you massage his raging erection that barely fits in the curl of your palm anymore when it's fully swollen.

“I wanna feel you, Frank,” you purr on his lips as he drives you out of your mind.

“Yeah? Want me to come inside you?” He makes a point to press his fingertips hard on your g-spot to earn a good moan out of you.

“You need me to beg?”

“A little. Yeah.”

“Please, I need you to fuck me.”

“Say what you whisper in my ear when you wake me up in the middle of the night just to fuck.”

“I'd die if you don't wake up right now and fuck me,” you sigh. “Please. I need you, king.”

“That's my girl. C'mere.” He takes his fingers away and handles your body so you're laying on your side. He pulls your back flush against his chest and drives the blunt tip of his cock smoothly between your legs.

“God, you're always so fucking wet.”

“Just for you.”

As you adjust your leg to be more comfortable, he tucks his arms around you. His bottom arm slips under your armpit to hold your chest, while his opposite hand rubs its fingers on your clit. Frank thrusts come long and dragged. His mouth opens at the crook of your neck to devour your flesh. You take the hand holding your tit and bring it up to your mouth so you can take his fingers between your lips.

“Fuck, you're gonna make me come, baby,” he rumbles in your ear when you blow his fingers as if it was his cock.

You can tell he's ready to burst by the way his length twitches inside you every time his fingertips touch the back of your throat.

Wrapped in an ethereal veil made out of love and lust, your bodies sync up and lace in an intricate knot, moving together like one. You expel the same shallow breaths. Pulses follow the same pattern. Arch your bodies at the same angle. He keeps a steady rhythm on your folds, you keep your mouth tight around his knuckles. When your legs start trembling, he trembles with you. You beg him again, to go harder. Your core fuses with his as the flame between burns brighter and hotter the closer you get to the top. Overwhelmed by the intoxicating haze, at the very last second, his body gives up and falls out of cadence. Frank comes with the force of a waterfall before you do. A deep grunt echoes in the room as his hips erratically keep pushing for a couple of seconds until he’s spilled every last drop into you.

“Fuck, I’m so sorry, baby,” his breathing falters.

“It’s okay. Just don’t stop. Please.” You pull your mouth away from his hand.

“Sh, sh, I won’t. Come for me, baby.” His fingers stay glued to your clit, his cock remains hard, and deep buried inside your walls while he keeps viciously rubbing on it to grant you your release.

You're so close, you can feel your body about to meet that same force. You clutch your hand around his wrist as your body locks for a beat before being overcome by that whirlwind of pleasure that takes you to a higher ground.

Frank holds you tight as your body goes limp in his embrace. You’d die here if you could, in his arms wrapped around you, in the comfort of his kisses and his voice in your ear telling you how much he loves you.

[starsomens]

Primal

A/N: I was looking around for a prompt generator and I had found one specifically for NSFW prompts and this one prompt caught my eye and HAD to write it so please enjoy 😘. Here’s the link to the generator

Warnings: exhibitionism!, not proofread. outdoor(ish) sex, public(ish) sex, getting caught (kind of) PIV sex, unprotected (WRAP IT!),oral (female), dirty talk, marking, slight degradation, Noah x Y/N with slight x Nick Folio, kind of threesome to an extent (??), Noah is aware of it (sort of), this is a work of FICTION! proceed caution!!

Prompt: Exhibitionism. While out in the wilderness with friends, family, or a tour group, Noah and Y/N fuck in their tent, getting off on the idea that someone could possibly hear them. Bonus points for a member of their party catching them and watching them or listening to them, but not saying a thing.

The air was fresh and crisp, the scenery was gorgeous, and you could understand why so many people loved camping and hiking. There was so much peace and tranquility. Birds of all colors and sizes would fly and chirp as you pass them by. No schedules, no deadlines, no tour bus, just time to relax. That mixed friends and your boyfriend made it all better.

It was the end of the tour and you all thought having some time out together would be a great time to unwind. Noah new a hiking trail that also had some great camping spots. Noah, you, Jolly, Folio and Nick all headed there for the weekend staring from Friday and you'd leave by Sunday afternoon.

"Guys look back," you call as you snap a picture on your polaroid. You snapped a great picture of them on the trail with a view of thick trees behind them, and some genuine smiles

"Hey, Y/N where are your bags?" Jolly asked tilting his head to the side

"I got it," Noah said holding it up with a bit of a shake. Most of you things were in one big back together while yours had supplies. Soap, extra undies, the battery pack, medicine, the emergency stuff.

"He didn't let me take it for myself, even when I asked if he wanted a break and he said-"

"No, cause we're almost there" he said coming up to a small hill and at the bottom was the campsite. Luckily the park that offered them had areas that can be reserved for people, while still giving space and privacy to others who might be camping. The area was a bit higher than where the lake was and the view was gorgeous! You had gotten there early just so you could set the tents up and hopefully have a swim.

You and Noah had brought a tent to share while Jolly had set his up, Folio need some help with his. He somehow was setting it up correctly....but inside out....

Nick secured any food you brought to be sure of bears not finding it. For now it'll be in a small safe provided by the park until you were ready to eat. The sun had come to it's peak at around 2:30 pm and you were all ready to have some fun! Of course you nearly forced them all to use sunblock before even leaving the camp area. While everyone was just changing in the open! You quickly changed inside the privacy of your tent with Noah waiting outside

"hey babe," he called

"Yeah? I'm almost done!" You answered

"Oh you're fine was just gonna say I can see the shadow of your boobs" he smirks to himself, you give a small shriek and fold into a ball trying to cover yourself "Babe, babe I'm playing! You're fine" he chuckled

As you unzip the tent you groan "Noah! Can you at least help me tie the top?" you look up at him as if he now owed you the favor for pulling that stunt

"Of course princess" you turn around and hold the pieces in place while he tied it. You could see the guys getting a head start, Noah most likely telling them you’d catch up. After he was done tying up the strings he kissed the nape of your neck

“I love this one on you babe, you look great” he smiles at you as you turn to him and you peck the bottom of his chin

"Come on let's get in the water!" you take his hand and lead him to the rope that hung from the tree that leaned over the lake. Noah took the first swing and landed with a splash into the water below. You catch the rope and hold it to your chest, taking a look at the jump you'd take. The guys were in the water encouraging you to come down

"Come on Y/N, Its just a swing! You'll get down here in 5 seconds flat!" Folio tried to make it seem less intimidating.

"Come on Y/N, you live with a fucking tree, you can handle this!" Jolly calls pointing to Noah

"Just swing down Y/N, I'm right here come on!" Noah said opening his arms to you. You take in a deep breath, hold it and run off the ledge holding on to the rope and letting go just a few feet from Noah. The cool water surrounded you as you swam up to the surface, if you weren't awake before, you were now

The guy cheered and clapped for you as if you were a performing diver for the Olympics "Nice job facing your fears Y/N"

"hey I wasn't scared!" you laugh splashing Nick. Noah coming up behind you and snakes his arms around your waist. You had he was going to be romantic and hold you in the water....but you were wring. Suddenly he flips you over his head and back into the water once. again.

"NOAH! Ugh I'm get you for that!" you smack his shoulder

"Awwhhh baby I'm sowwwyyyy" he said almost mockingly

This was exactly what you all needed after tour. Just relaxation, and fun. After about an hour in the lake Folio had gotten out to start some fishing, and Nick had started on some food. You and Noah sat down under the tree. You head laid on his shoulder as his hands played with yours. Your chin rests on his shoulder as you admire his features. His beautiful skin with some freckles just underneath his eyes, his sharp jawline and beautiful nose. Those deep dark eyes you love to lose yourself in, and of course that smile. That smile was what did it for you then and still does it for you now.

“What are you looking at pretty girl?” He asked you with a smirk finally catching you

“I’m looking at a pretty boy” you answer with eyes full of love

“Is that so?” He asked twisting his body to face you more “well, can this pretty boy kiss the pretty girl?” He asked

"of course your can" you close your eyes and lose yourself in the feeling of his lips on yours. His hand cups your jaw and holds you deeper in the kiss. the leaves sing in the wind as the breeze lifts your hair. When he pulls away he pecks your nose

"Did I ever tell you, that you're gorgeous as hell?"

"I think I may have heard that once or twice" you smile feeling your cheeks burn from the blush that crept to the flesh.

He leans down to your ear "you're also the reason my pants are so tight now" you furrow your brows in confusion and when you look down you see the slight tent forming in his pants

"Noah...really? Out here? What did it for you?" you ask trying to hide your giggle

"Well you tell me," he said looking around "I'm here with my sexy girl wearing a bikini that only makes her hotter, and I'm really debating on taking you into the forest and fucking you against a tree"

You could feel yourself ache just a bit at the thought of having sex, out camping of all places! Maybe if you didn't have your friends and his band members here you would have considered it.

"Well as much as I'd love that, maybe we can tomorrow when they go on a trail hm?" he pat his chest "How's that sound?"

"We'll see baby, come on let's get some food" he said helping you up and adjusting his situation before taking your hand and walking to the food that was being cooked.

...

As the night came, you all changed out of your wet clothes and gathered by the fire. The food was amazing! Of course, you and Nick had prepped them before packing and they came out perfect for the trip. The later it got the more beautiful and clear the stars became. Noah's arm was around your shoulder as your fingers linked together. Your lay a kiss to his hand and he returns it to your head

"Ugghhh the love birds are at it again" Folio groans, teasing you both

"Don't be jealous Nick! We can find you a nice nature girl out here" Jolly shoots back

"hey! I'd sweep her off your feet for your information" he defended with a confident smile

"I'm sure you would Nick," you answer "How about we get some rest to get a good start tomorrow? I don't know about you but that food has me sleepy" you said stretching

"I'm already ahead of you" Nick said getting up and diving into his tent, ready to get some sleep. Luckily since the are is meant for camping, the floor was pretty flat and clear of twigs, roots or anything sharp. The fire was at a safe distance to keep on for the night to avoid the area getting too cold. You bid each other good night and go into you own tents. Noah shuts yours tent, with enough room for some ventilation. You had both gotten a double sleeping bag just so you didn't have to be apart, plus you still wanted cuddles.

You both climb in and snuggle into each other. Your head on his chest, and your leg was over his hip, the best and most convenient position for you both since Noah tends to sleep on his back more often then you.

"Good night princess" he squeezed you tights and kissed the center of your forehead. "I hope snakes don't crawl in here-"

"Noah! Stoooppp" he giggles and rests his chin on your head for the night

. .. ... An hour must have passed by now and you still couldn't sleep! You turned around so your back was facing your boyfriend but you couldn't get the conversation from early out of your head. The idea of you both having sex, out here, trying to keep quiet, the risk the passion. You could feel yourself getting hotter and hotter with just the thought of it. You couldn't help but rub your thighs together to get some kind of relief from the ache between your legs. You had accidentally bumped into Noah with your ass 1 or 2 times. Luckily, he hadn't booked enough or make a move to think that he may have.

At this point, you were just feeling desperate and wanted to feel release. Do you lift your head just a bit to see or hear if anyone else was awake. luckily, it seemed as if you were the only 1 for now. You cautiously call to your boyfriend to see if he was awake

You cautiously call to your boyfriend to see if he was awake "noah!" you quietly yell "are you awake?"

A few seconds passing you thought that maybe he really was asleep, but then he answered you and realized that he in fact was also awake

"of course I am with the way you're rubbing your ass against me" he whispered " If I didn't know any better, I'd say that my little slut is feeling needy" He whispered closer to your ear, feeling his hot breath against your skin. his large hand grazes over your waist and onto your stomach. finding his way under your shirt and up to your bare breast, where he gave a slight squeeze.

"mmm Noah" you whine trying to keep your noise to a minimum.

"shh shh shh, careful princess, we don't want the others to wake up do we?" he shushes you scooting closer to you until his hard cock was against your ass. His hips grind up against you, even if it wasn't direct contact it felt so good, you wanted more and you wanted him.

You flip around and your lips instantly lock in a kiss, his hand brings your leg over his hip. You grind against him finally getting sensation through the thin fabric of your shorts. He swiftly flips you on to your back and kisses along your neck, each kiss searing into your skin, your heart racing and anticipating what was to come next.

"Noah please..I need-"

"Shh princess, I gotchu" he hushed you as he sat back on his knees and pulls down your bottoms and tosses them to the side. His hands spread your knees open for him to see the wet print on the center of those cute blue panties he loves. He lifts your but on to his lap and removes the last barrier between him and your pussy. Noah had one rule when it came to sex: he always eats you out before he fucks you. With the limited space that was in here he simply lifted your hips up enough to bring his meal to him.

You bite your lip from being help at this angle. Your knees dangle over his shoulder as his breath creeps up your thigh. His eyes never leaving yours as his mouth slowly comes in contact with your wet pussy and gives a long, slow lick from bottom to top, his tongue flicking your bundle of nerves

You could feel the air from your lungs escape completely as he ate you out. His nose began nudging at your clit as his tongue worked between your fold and prodding at your entrance. While one hand kept you hoisted up in the air, the other one snakes down your body and pushes your shirt over your breasts. Your nipples exposed to the cold air, hardening at the pleasure he was giving you, and being exposed in a risky environment. His large hand massages the flesh and rolls your nipple between his fingers.

“Noah…feel s’good,” you moan “ don’t…. Please don’t stop.”

He loved when you told him not to stop, especially when you said please. His hand retreats from your breast and comes up to your pussy. His lips wrap around and suck your clit between his lips as his long digits enter you and pump in and out. His fingers curl and hit your sweetest spot making you nearly cry out waking up everyone who is there. Your hand slaps over your mouth as you try to keep quiet.

Noah, for one was enjoying the view. Had his mouth on your pussy, giving you immense pleasure while he watched your face contort in the best of ways. Feeling you pulse around his his middle and ring finger made his chest swell with pride, knowing he was the one that was making you feel good. Little did he know that there were an extra set of eyes watching from a distance.

Over in folio’s tent, the drummer, completely shocked by what he was seeing. He was woken up by some suspicious noises and set up to see what was going on. At first, he thought he may have been dreaming and it could not have possibly been what he was thinking. His tent was directly across from yours at a certain Angle getting him. Perfect access through the slightly cracked zipper of your tent. Watching his close friend and leadof their band, eating out his girlfriend in their tent. They hadn’t even noticed how far the tent was left unzipped. He knew that they left it just slightly inserted. Maybe it was the movement, maybe they opened it more? He doesn’t know the reason why he was able to see so much into their private time. Was that he could not find himself looking away Either. 

All he knew was that he could feel his shorts growing tighter the longer that he watched. He knew that it was wrong, but for some reason he just couldn’t look away. he couldn’t see your face he could just see you being eaten out from the distance. His heart was pounding, trying to keep his breath at a minimum. His pants were getting tighter by the second to the point it was nearly painful, but wouldn’t be wrong to touch himself watching his two friends have sex? More thoughts were flooding into his mind. Things he would never think of before. Like what if it was him eating you out instead? Him being the one to give you pleasure, to make you moan and scream. But for now, just watching you receive pleasure was enough for him as his hands begin to lift and beyond the elastic of his shorts. He watched as Noah changed positions and had you on top.

You peel the shirt off of your body and toss it to the side as you adjust yourself to sink onto his hard dick. The sweetness of the stretch in the, fullness you felt in your lower stomach. Something about being out in a camping site, with his friends nearby, sleeping in their tents, made your body shiver in pleasure. Not necessarily to be watched, but the risk of being caught ignite something in your chest. You look down to see Noah with his eyebrows nipped together feeling the pleasure of your pussy constrict around him. You move your hips back-and-forth grinding your clit against his pubic bone as his dick stretched, and filled you, rubbing against your spot. You were seeing more than stars at this point. It was pure ecstasy, running through your body.

“Fuck princess… so tight and wet.” he whispers, obviously struggling to keep his voice down. “ do you like this? do you like when I fuck you outside, knowing there are people around? Such a little slut…but,” he comes up from his position to sit and come close your ear and whisper “ you’re my slut. My dirty little princess.” His hand, grabbed at your ass as he guides you up and down his cock. His mouth working at your collarbone, leaving bite marks, and bruises. your feet now planted on the ground as you walked back-and-forth against each other. The slight clap of skin against skin filled the quiet night air period the only other noise to be heard was the cracking of the fire. Just over your shoulder he had noticed something in the distance. Could it be possible that another pair of eyes were watching? You simply closed his eyes and came down to your nibble and began to suck and laugh at the sensitive skin.

“Yeah…right there, Noah” you pant “ So fucking good”

All of a sudden he pulls out of you, causing a wine to slip from your lips, losing the feeling of fullness and stretch. He turns you around and pushes your shoulders down onto the ground of the tent. The sliver of light that crept into your tent, making your body look celestial in the glow of the fire. He lines himself up and pushes the tip slowly before he bottoms out in one thrust into you. One reason he loved doggy was the primal feeling in his chest. Much less being out in the forest he felt like this is what you were meant to do. Find your person and marking them as yours and just fill them over and over again. Something about it just felt so natural and primal. If it weren’t for the extra people that were with you, he would have you screaming your head off.

He leans back as he watches himself pump in and out of you. Watching you take all of him, inch by inch your body arching more towards him, wanting to feel more of him. It made his cock harder and pulse each time, his large hand massaged the flesh of your ass so badly to spank you, but knowing that you would definitely wake everyone up. His body comes down until his chest molds with the arch of your back. His lips brush against the shell of your ear as he says

“ who does this pussy belong to?” he asked.

“Y-you..” you whimper out as his hips give slow short, thrust, extending, and prolonging the pleasure that you were chasing

“ say it baby,” he growls “ see how much you like being fucked and people know the only I can fuck you this good”

“I… I love it Noah” you squeal trying to keep your voice down, feeling your throat ache, wanting so badly to moan out “ I love it so much”

Nicks hand was coated with pre-cum as his hand quickly pumps up and down his deck. He could see your ass ripple with each thrust in the glow of the fire. each thrust your body jump and arch with pleasure. He just wish that he could see how your face twisted and pleasure. The way your mouth fell open when you were close. Fuck! This was so wrong!...but...but why does it feel so good? He's never felt so hard in his hand, never felt so good.

“Yeah baby…take it…take it” he huffs as his hand leaves your body and locks his fingers with yours and squeezed tightly. He ruts against you as he stutters and bites down on your shoulder to surpressed his own noises.

“Where..where?” He asked feeling himself close to cumming. He straightens himself again and gives you the last few hard thrusts. His eyes no longer on you but through the tent crack and gave a smirk, knowing damn well someone had enjoyed their night with a free show. Now most would think this wasn't ideal but in Noah's mind his first thought was

"that's right...all you can do is watch but never touch"

“I-inside…aahhh” you whine

He pounds into you with a few short but strong thrusts and spills into your pussy. Your walls milking and pulsing around him sweetly.

you shake as an orgasm rattles through your body, shaking your to your core. Your ass shivers against his hips as he pushes you over the edge. The lightheadedness, the tightness of your stomach, the way you pulse around him, the warmth that oozed out. He pulled out slowly and grabbed his shirt to clean you up. Pulling his shorts up again he helps to find yours and opens his arms for you to lay in

"Think you can sleep now?" he chuckles against your hair "little minx"

"hey!" you giggle "you like it when I'm a minx" you fire back

"I like you even if you weren't one" he kissed your head "Now go to sleep before someone gets up and asks why we're outta breath"

Nick sat in his tent, steamy and hot staring at his hand and the mess he had made. He couldn't believe what he had just done and how it had ended (lol post nut clarity). He cleans off his hand and plops back down on his sleeping back and stared through the see through room of this tent.

"fuck..." was all he could say when he processed what happened. Getting off to what he saw, fantasizing about you, and worse

Noah catching him and smirking at him! Tomorow morning was sure to be interesting.

「✨Taglist✨」 @lilhobgobbler @cncohshit @vir-tual @tdopomymind @concretenoah @misspygmypie @fvckmeorchokeme @lust-for-sacher @thescarlettvvitch @cind6547 @itsmrsfuentes @purple-lili @ima1986

[missvelvetsstuff]

No Benefits

Bucky Barnes x Reader, Bucky Barnes x Sharon Carter

Summary: Reader and Bucky are best friends until a drunken hook up. Bucky wants a friends with benefits situation because he doesn't feel ready for a relationship but reader knows that will lead to a broken heart.

Then Sharon Carter comes to work with them.

Notes: Steve and Tony are around but retired, everything else is mostly canon

Chapter 5

Warnings: swearing, angst

It was almost 8pm when Sam sat down to eat dinner in the compounds dining room with Steve, Clint and Nat. They were all exhausted, having been awake since 3am trying to get a lead on Bucky and Sharon's whereabouts.

He craned his neck and looked around the crowded room.

"Hey, has anyone seen Cookie? I stopped by her office earlier but haven't seen her since. She has a bad habit of working through meals and bed time."

The others all shook their heads and mumbled something in the negative.

Sam frowned "I should take some food up to her, maybe remind her to get some sleep."

Nat scoffed "She's a grown woman, she can take care of herself. Besides, it wouldn't hurt her to skip a meal. Or two."

Sam gave her an off look "What the Hell Romanoff? Cookie's gorgeous as she is, why are your claws out? Still miffed Barnes was giving her so much attention?"

Nat smirked "Was being the keyword in that sentence. Watching that little social climber being iced out by the Winter Soldier has been a source of great joy for me. She should have stayed in her lane with the other nerds instead of trying to sleep her way up."

Sam shook his head "Mee-ow, Romanoff. Didn't realize you felt so threatened by her. Well I'm going to look in on her. See you around."

Sam went into the kitchen to make a plate for Cookie before heading up to her office.

Clint looked at Nat "What is your problem with Cookie? She's a sweetheart and the best analyst here. I'm gonna hit my rack while I can. Later."

Nat sat with Steve for a few more minutes before standing up. "I have some leads to look into. See ya."

Steve shook his head at his friends strange behavior but wrote it off as stress over the missing agents and dove into his food.

Sam left the elevator on the mission support floor and was surprised to find Cookie's office locked up, lights out. He figured she must have gone to bed and headed for her room. He knocked on her door and when there was no response he felt like he needed to be sure.

"Friday? Where's Cookie?"

"Agent Y/L/N left the compound with Agent Iris Daniels at 1:17 this afternoon."

"Wait, what? She's gone?"

"Yes Captain Wilson."

Sam shook his head "This isn't good. Why would she just leave?" He mumbled to himself, before asking

"Friday, did she leave any word of where she was going or when she would return?"

"I'm sorry Captain Wilson she didn't."

"Fuck! Friday, can you find her?"

"I'm on it, Captain."

"Where's Stark?"

"Mr Stark is in his lab."

"Can you tell him I'm on my way there. We need to talk. And tell Rogers too."

"Of course, Captain."

Sam hurried up to Tony Starks lab, followed by Steve.

Tony looked up "What's up, Captains? Any leads on Carter and Barnes?"

Sam shook his head "No, there's another problem."

Tony tensed "Now what?"

"Cookie is gone. She left early this afternoon with one of her analysts. Didn't leave a note or tell anyone where she went. I tried to call both of them but it went straight to voicemail. Considering the tension between Cookie, Bucky and Carter this seems to have gotten more serious. Cookie knows more about the classified workings here than anyone else. Carter might find her useful."

Steve tried to protest "I'm sure Cookie is just following a lead, I doubt she's in any kind of trouble. Just because she had a falling out with Bucky, doesn't mean he would let anything happen to her."

Tony closed his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose. "Really Rogers? I know you're not around much but Barnes and Carter have effectively iced Cookie out, she's with Sam more than she's with Barnes." he rubbed his neck

"Friday, any clues where they might have gone?"

"No, boss but Captain Wilson started a search for her and the agent she left with. I'll let you know if I find them."

Sam looked at Tony "There has to be more we can do than sit here waiting for one of them to pop up in Fridays search."

Tony sighed "Friday, how did they leave the compound?"

"They took one of your cars, boss."

Tony shouted, Sam and Steve flinched "That's it, find that car."

"I'll notify you when I do Mr Stark."

Tony notified the rest of the team to suit up and be ready to go as soon as they had a location.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Bucky woke up with a start, he could feel that he was sitting on a dirt floor, against a cold concrete wall, wrists bound behind his back with some kind of handcuffs that he couldn't get out of. Ankles bound together as well. He opened his eyes and the room was dark with a musty, earthy smell. He couldn't see much and concluded he was probably in a basement since there were no windows.

He shook his head to try and clear it.

He remembered talking to Sharon after waking up in a cabin upstate but when he tried to remember anything else his head started pounding again and he gave up.

Bucky decided to see if he could find anything and pushed against the wall to stand up. He kept next to the wall and took small steps around the room to see if he could find a way out or if there was anything he could use as a weapon.

He bumped into what felt like another wall but he couldn't see it, even though his eyes were adjusted to the dark, and it seemed too close to be a wall. He shuffled along next to it until he came to another corner.

Bucky snapped around when he heard a door open then flinched when a light came on.

"Aahhh, you're awake finally. Your little friend is still out so we will have to wait to get started."

Bucky moved towards the voice and ran into a clear wall but could see her on the other side of the wall smiling. He growled when he couldn't push through the wall. "Sharon? What the fuck is going on?"

Sharon chuckled "Oh Bucky, poor confused baby. I'm not a Bond villain who is going to explain my whole plan while you figure out how to escape. You'll just have to wait and see. Don't worry your precious Cookie should be awake soon."

She motioned her head to his right.

Bucky felt like he couldn't breathe when he saw Cookie tied up on the floor and unconscious, in a second, smaller room with clear walls. Sharon approached her and dumped a bucket of water on her before leaving that room and sitting on one of the steps that led upstairs.

Cookie jerked and spluttered awake when the water hit her "Wh what th th the fuck?"

Sharon clapped happily "Oh good, you're awake. Don't worry, this won't take too long. I'm just so excited that we finally get to do this."

Bucky slammed his shoulder against the wall with no effect. "Dammit Sharon, let her go. She doesn't have anything to do with this. You have me, I did everything you asked so just leave her alone."

Sharon giggled "That's not true, you refused to kill her for me but don't worry, we're going to fix that today."

Bucky shook his head "No Sharon, you don't need to do this. You already have me."

Sharon sighed "Typical man, thinks it's all about him. Did it ever occur to you that the head of intel might be valuable to bad actors? Her head has so much information, more than anyone except maybe Fury."

Cookie spoke up "You're crazy if you think I'm telling you anything. I don't care if you torture me. You won't get anything from me."

Sharon laughed "You know, most of the people who say that end up spilling their guts when it starts to hurt. That's ok, I have other options. Antonia?"

A woman came down the stairs to stand next to Sharon, Cookie did a double take "Antonia? Dreykov? But that's Iris? What are you doing here? You said we-" she shook her head "You're the mole. Why?"

Antonia pulled off the photostatic veil to reveal her own face and smiled "For my father, to bring the Red Room back to its former glory. Once you're gone, I'll take your job and be able to access all the top level intel you refused to share. If you had just let me in, you wouldn't be here now."

Bucky slammed himself against the wall separating him from Sharon. "No, please. You can't kill her. I'll go with you willingly, I'll be yours, just don't hurt her."

Sharon smirked "You will come with me either way. We've been tweaking the mind control serum that Dreykov created so you shouldn't be able to break free like you have been. The Super soldier serum helped you keep waking up from the mind control but we've found a way to compensate for that so you won't even be sad your precious Cookie is dead." She winked at him "Or that you killed her."

As if on cue Natasha descended the stairs with her sister Yelena and handed a small tranq dart to Sharon "Here's the serum for Barnes. Let's get this over with before Stark figures out where we are."

Bucky stared at Natasha "Why are you doing this? Betraying the Avengers, hurting more innocent people?"

Nat smirked "I told you all of it, don't you remember? The morning after you fucked her.

***Flashback***

Bucky woke up from one of the best nights sleep he had ever had and smiled when he felt a warm body next to him, Cookie. He pulled her into him, amazed that she was here in his bed. That she wanted him too. He could tell the sun wasn't up yet so he closed his eyes and dozed off.

A little while later he woke again, needing to pee, so carefully extracted himself. When he was done he saw the time and hurried to meet Steve and Sam for their morning run.

When he got to the lobby he saw neither of them were there so decided on a short run so he could get back to Cookie. He smiled as he thought about her cuddled up in his bed and spending the day in bed together.

Before he was through the doors he heard Nat calling him. She propositioned him but he refused and told her about him and Cookie.

Nat frowned and shook her head "I have to apologize in advance then." She pulled something out of her pocket and gently slapped his neck.

Bucky pulled back "Owww, what was that?"

Nat sighed "A serum that Dreykov used to control the Widows."

Bucky looked at her, confused "Mind control? What are you doing, Nat? I- whu" he closed his eyes and when he opened them they were emotionless.

Nat grinned "Soldat?"

"готов подчиниться" Ready to comply

Nat smiled "Good boy. Now take your run, then go tell Cookie you just want sex, make some excuse up. And then stay away from her, Sharon will be here soon to be your handler. Once all is said and done, Cookie, Sharon and the rest of the Avengers will all be dead and you will be by my side. The Black Widow and Winter Soldier, running SWORD, HYDRA and the Red Room together."

Bucky nodded.

She showed him a picture of Sharon and repeated "Handler"

Then she patted his cheek "Go on, Soldat. Complete your mission."

Bucky nodded "миссия" Mission

Nat shook her head "That won't do. Soldat? I need you to act like Barnes or this won't work. Relax"

Soldat nodded and smirked "Of course, Natty. I'll take care of everything for you."

Then jogged off around the lake before heading back to the compound to break Cookies heart.

***end Flashback***

Bucky shook his head "Why did you make me hurt Cookie? I would never do that, I'm in love with her."

Cookie gasped "But-"

Sharon snapped "But nothing. I'm bored" she went into the room where Bucky was. He tried to fight her but with his arms and legs bound she was able to get close enough to hit him with the dart. She quickly backed away and Nat pushed a button that lowered the wall between Soldat and Cookie.

"Soldat?"

Bucky stood up straight "готов подчиниться" Ready to comply

Cookie cried out "No, Bucky please. Don't let her do this. Bucky!!"

Natasha glared at Cookie and clicked on a remote that unlocked Bucky's restraints "Enough of your whining. Soldat, kill her."

The Soldat nodded and then turned to Cookie who was cowering against the wall. She tried to push herself up to standing but the Soldat was too fast and wrapped his vibranium hand around her throat and lifted her up until her feet couldn't reach the ground.

Cookie looked at the cold face of her friend, the man she had loved for 2 years and rasped out "Bucky. Please." She looked into his emotionless eyes and she realized this was it, she closed her eyes and tried to say "I forgive you" as she lost consciousness.

Chapter 6

[strangersteddierthings]

Gut Instinct: Chapter 3 - Friday

[Art] [Ao3] [Prologue] [Chapter One] [Chapter Two] [Interlude] [Chapter Three]

As suspected, Dustin and Robin are loitering near the gym doors, awaiting their rides. "What would you two have done if I'd kept my date instead, huh?"

"Like that would stop me from getting a ride," Robin says.

"Nancy would have taken me home," Dustin says with a grin and a shrug of his shoulders.

Steve rolls his eyes and does his best to look annoyed even when all he feels is fond. "Alright, let's go. Dustin gets shotgun."

"Yes!"

"What!? Why?"

"I ruined Dustin's game tonight. This is me groveling," Steve answers as he leads them to where he parked earlier that afternoon. They're arguing behind him as they follow, but he's not listening. Now that all the excitement of the night has ended, and the rolling of his insides has settled, he remembers the weird waking nightmare thing.

Once at his car, he unlocks the passenger side door, opening it for Dustin who gives him a suspicious look before climbing in. Steve reaches down, presses the unlock button for the rest of the doors, then shuts Dustin in.

"Robbie, can you stay the night?"

"I have to! I have so many questions. Like, what happened to Heidi-"

"Brenda"

"-why you came into the gym with a herd of nerds, and why you chased Eddie down," Robin finishes as if he hadn't even corrected the name of his date. Not date? Whatever.

"Great. Climb in," Steve says and rounds the car to climb into the driver's seat. He can see Robin fumbling around with her trumpet in the back, having shoved the instrument in first but not far enough to be out of her way.

"If you guys need to have a private conversation, you can just tell me. I'll plug my ears," Dustin gripes.

"No, you won't," Steve and Robin say at the same time.

Dustin doesn't argue. He makes a 'fair enough' face and shrugs his shoulders. "True."

Once they're all buckled in, Steve heads off. He drops Dustin off first. Robin doesn't opt for jumping into the vacated seat just yet. Instead, they sit in the quiet of the radio, even though they're both wound up with the need to talk about the day, neither of them wants to start the conversation in the car. They'll both get lost in it and end up sitting out front of Robin's house for hours.

He stops at Robin's so she can change and leave the trumpet in her room. Probably also tell her parents she's going to be staying over. It doesn't take too long before he watches her shout a goodbye to her parents. He sees she's changed directly into her sleep attire; sleep pants and what looks like a shirt she stole from him.

She flings the car door open and throws a very full backpack between their seats, a strap on the bag whipping Steve in the shoulder.

"Ow! Hey!"

"It barely got you," Robin pulls the door shut gently, though, so Steve accepts her apology. After buckling in she adds, "just be lucky it was just the strap. That thing's heavy. My textbooks are still in there."

"Why?" he asks as he puts the car in drive and starts the drive home.

"I'm in two classes that don't believe in the break part of spring break," Robin groans, flopping back against the seat. "I might get some work done after you fall asleep at nine tonight, or whenever it is your old man body gives out."

"I'm not old!"

"Last time I stayed over you went to bed at eight."

"Because I was up all night the night before helping Erica with-"

"I've heard your excuses, not convinced. You are an old man now, Steve. You've got bills to pay and a lawn to mow and everything. Old people problems."

"I hate you. Why do I let you come to my house again?"

"Our house. And because you invite me. Like all the time. It's like your obsessed with me or something," she shoots him a cheeky grin before sitting up so she can reach the radio. "No wonder Dustin thinks we should date."

"Not to jump the gun but if you still need to get married to get cheaper college tuition you know I'll do it."

Robin gasps. "Steven Harrington. Are you proposing to me on this beautiful spring night? Obviously, yes. Cheaper college, and then when you disappear under mysterious circumstances after I graduate, I won't even have to worry about a mortgage or anything. Just me, the Harrington inheritance, and my mistress, lounging by the pool."

He barks a laugh that Robin quickly joins. They ride in a comfortable quiet, just the radio playing.

Steve parks in the driveway, like usual, and Robin complains about him not using the garage and he says it's just an old habit from needing to keep the garage clear for his parents. An old conversation they have every now and then as they enter the house and make their way inside.

Robin heads right for the living room and Steve jogs up the stairs to change into his own pajamas. Soon enough, they are both settled in the couch, with Back to the Future playing on the TV for background noise. A joke choice that became less of a joke with each serious conversation they have while it plays in the background. It's why Robin is now looking at him, serious but not concerned, because it was the movie he put in.

"Spill," she demands as she snuggles into his side, pointedly not looking at him, which Steve is grateful for. It's easier for him to gather his thoughts when he's not trying to decipher what every expression on her face might mean.

"I. Well, two things. There are two things to talk about. I just don't know which one first."

"Well, I wanna know how you got the entire Nerd Herd to follow you into a basketball game."

Steve chuckles, "Yeah. It's... yeah. I guess both things tie in together. Um, so, I'll just talk about it in the order everything happened and you can interrupt as needed?"

"Oh don't worry, I'll interrupt," Robin says.

So, Steve starts talking. He starts with Dustin calling him to come fill in for Hellfire, about how he'd gotten so nauseous when he barely even thought about saying no that he'd almost thrown up, and about how he'd seen something this time. He can't really recall what it was he saw now but he tries to describe it anyway. "Just, like... Umm, there was a clock. And a cassette? And the school colors, I think? But the part I remember most is Dustin sobbing. Like. Full on crying the hardest a person can. I've never even seen him sniffle with the shit we've seen. Robbie, I'm fucking terrified of whatever makes Dustin cry."

She grabs ones of his hands, sandwiching it between her two but doesn't speak, so he continues.

He recaps the day; agreeing to play, arguing with and then apologizing to Eddie, getting Hellfire to postpone and go to the game instead, helping Eddie load what they'd need to play at Steve's house into the van. He doesn't leave out a single detail. and ends with, "so, I think I might have a crush on Eddie 'The Freak' Munson."

Robin makes active listening noised the entire time he's talking, but the loudest is the gasp she lets out when he's done. "No!"

Her shout makes him jump. "No? What, why no?"

"I mean, not no, like, no not him, but no as is in why."

Steve sputters, indignant, "yeah, okay, says the girl who wanted to be the future Mrs. Tammy Thompson."

She huffs and pulls away, twisting to sit sideways on the sofa, facing him. She pulls a knee up to hug and just looks at him for a moment. "Bad crushes aside, what, um, how are we feeling, about what you saw?"

"Bad," Steve answers immediately. "I feel very bad about it but, like, in a useless way. I don't know what that was."

"It was you seeing-"

"If you say I was seeing the future, I swear on Dustin's mom-"

"Steve. What does your gut say about it?"

He frowns at her, "it doesn't work like that."

"Well, it kinda does. Think about ignoring whatever you saw. Pretending it never happened. You never plan to do anything about it."

With a huff, he does that. Mostly to humor her, because it doesn't work that way- except. Except it does work exactly that way. When he's thinking about doing something, a specific something, that's exactly when his body lets him know. And the thought of pretending he never saw any of it brings a wave of nausea through him just as bad as when he first saw it.

The problem now is that Steve has no idea what to do with this information. He tells Robin as much.