#and he just needs some steady pocket change

[ohimsummer]

i think papa! sugs would have a huge chunk of change saved up for after you have the triplets.

you were worried about going back to work, and paying for childcare amongst other things since you have three little ones to care for now. but suguru is determined to be a provider, he wants his lovely wife to live easy, and he also wants his family to have extra money to fall back on since he won’t be working as many hours.

you’re going to be staying with the kids full time, but suguru is also cutting back on his own work hours to help you out as much as possible. what he saved can last for a year at least, and he plans on spending that year caring for and spending time with his wife and newborn daughters.

[roanofarcc]

A LITTLE LIFE

pairing. tyler owens x fem!reader

summary. when a storm tyler is chasing changes course, putting you and your daughter in the direct line of danger, tyler drops everything to reach you. 

warnings. established relationship, descriptions of injuries, reader gets hurt, angst w/happy ending.

word count. 2.7k || masterlist

You watched as Tyler slung his overnight bag over his shoulder and patted his pockets to ensure he had everything he needed for his latest storm-chasing adventure. 

“Are you sure you have everything? Did you pack your charger? Because-” Your husband cut you off with a gentle chuckle. 

“It was the first thing I packed,” he said. The one time he had let his phone die while on a chase nearly sent you into cardiac arrest. He hadn’t sent you his usual indication that the chase went well and he and the rest of the Wranglers were just fine. You were in a fit of panic until Lily called you with words of reassurance and a promise to scold Tyler for his forgetfulness. Since then, you always bugged him to ensure he had his charger and that he used it. 

But he had gotten a lot better about checking in since you had your little girl. The reckless Wrangler pumped the breaks just slightly, calling every night he was away to hear the little baby babble before he fell asleep. He’d taken a rather long break from chasing when she was born, but you knew he missed it dearly. And while you’d miss him, he promised to keep his trips to a couple days tops and he’d come home the second you felt overwhelmed or needed help, no matter the size of the storm they were after. 

You were nervous to let him go, but you always had been. Yet, Tyler’s love for the dangerous weather wasn’t something you wanted to stand in the way of. He was doing what he loved, with the people he loved even more. You were proud of him and his friends for sticking to their guns and doing everything they could to help the people affected by the storms. 

Tyler moved to stand in front of you and your little girl, who you held on your hip. She was all smiles as Tyler kissed her cheeks. “You keep an eye on your momma for me this weekend, okay? She’s a handful.” 

You playful rolled your eyes. “Right, because I’m the one who refuses to sleep at bedtime.” That had been an ongoing battle. Your little girl liked to stay awake all night and nap off and on through the day, leaving you and Tyler on the backward schedule too. 

Tyler pressed a kiss to your lips, pulling away too soon for your liking. He looked unsure of himself, eyes flickering between you and your daughter. “You sure you’re gonna be all right?” he asked, for what had to be the hundredth time that morning. He always checked before he left, over and over again just in case you changed your mind, but you never did. 

You placed a hand on his cheek, smiling in reassurance. “I promise,” you said. 

He nodded, kissing you once more as he muttered, “I love you,” against your lips. 

“I love you too.” 

With your baby’s backward sleep schedule, you had managed to put her to sleep by mid-afternoon. She slept soundly in her crib, and you collapsed on the couch with a tired sigh. The TV droned on, playing some old sitcom that you’ve seen a million times, lulling you to sleep slowly before it overtook you completely. 

The gentle breeze swept in through the open windows, filling your home with a springtime sweetness you thought would remain throughout the weekend, sprinkled with a few rain showers throughout. But as you slept, the pretty blue skies started to shift, changing into something much more sinister. 

The storm was glorious. Tyler’s veins were filled with adrenaline as they followed the twister down an empty backroad, watching as it gained speed. Boone stayed steady filming it, hollering in excitement the whole time. They didn’t get a chance to catch their breath until the tornado was choked out, dissipating before their eyes like it had never been there at all, but leaving behind a clear path of destruction across the open plains. 

The weekend was supposed to host a slew of storms just north of Tyler’s home, and he and his team felt pretty good about their luck based on the first tornado they caught. Maybe it was a little superstitious, but they often used the first storm they chased as a baseline for how lucky they’d be during that outbreak. 

Meeting back up with the rest of the Wranglers, Tyler watched the sky with his hands on his hips, his mind split between the storms and you. Even though he had been chasing since your daughter was born, he was still a little hesitant, especially considering how much of a hassle it was to get her to sleep through the night, but you were just as supportive and wonderful as ever. His responsibility to you and your daughter was his first priority, but his responsibility to the Wrangles was second. 

“We got another big one brewin’ southeast,” Dexter said, eyes glued to the radar. Peering over his shoulder, Lily watched it too. The fixed small smile on her lips faltered before her brows furrowed. She patted Dexter’s shoulder to get him to step aside from the device. 

Tyler could tell she was thinking hard about something, her lip pulled between her teeth and shoulders rolling back. 

“Lily,” Tyler said. “What is it?” 

“It’s heading right for town.” 

Boone’s face pinched in confusion. “What town?” 

All Lily had to do was look at Tyler before he felt a cold twist of dread overtake his body. The storm was heading straight for you. 

You were exhausted. So much so that you didn’t wake up until a loud crash jolted you out of your slumber. You shot up from the couch with a gasp, heartbeat quick in your chest. The curtains that framed the open windows whipped around wildly as a harsh wind blew through screen. It pushed over the vase of flowers that were resting on the end table in front of the window, leaving broken glass and water strewn across the floor. 

You hurried over to the window, only to be assaulted by the violent wind and rain that seemed to be coming down sideways. Cursing under your breath, you went around the living room, closing the windows and blocking out the loud howl that rose goosebumps on your skin. 

Thunder rumbled loudly, rattling the house and waking up the baby. You hurried down the hall, scooping up your daughter with her woven pink blanket. As you tried to calm her down, the sirens rang out with a fury. 

Tornadoes were as common in spring as rain, but your nerves never vanished whenever the sirens sounded. You had been lucky, always just out of the direct path of the storm resulting only in a fallen tree or ruined patio furniture, but nothing too damning. Yet, you never wanted to take your chances, try to outsmart the force of nature by testing your luck. And you had another person to be responsible for. So, you grabbed the diaper bag hanging on the back of the closet and started toward the basement. 

It was half-finished, but home to an emergency stock of supplies if worse ever came to worse during tornado season. Usually, you stayed calm during storms, either reassured by Tyler or able to talk yourself out of any worry as the storm passed by without too much rocking of the house. But Tyler wasn’t there, and it was your first big storm with the baby. 

Panic welled in your chest, pushing against your ribs as you sat on the old cot set up in the far corner of the basement, beside the shelf of food, water, and a radio. Your baby girl had stopped crying, lulled by you gently rocking her. Flipping on the radio, you listened as the weather overhead worsened. The weatherman only confirmed your fears when he listed your county as being right in the path of the increasingly powerful tornado. 

With one hand, you fumbled around in your pockets, in search of your phone, only to realize you had plugged it in not long after Tyler left. It remained upstairs. You heard the howl of wind increase and you knew you’d missed your window to safely venture upstairs. Instead, you were stuck, huddled in the corner of the basement silently praying your luck hadn’t run out and the storm would switch its path or disappear before it reached your home. 

But your luck seemed to have run out. 

Tyler was sure he’d never been so terrified of a storm before. Normally, he found the beauty in them, but he also had seen their destruction firsthand. It was always devastating to see people’s homes flattened and watch them in a desperate scramble to find their missing loved ones in the rubble. That was why they put their money towards helping those people; it wasn’t much, but it was the only way he knew how to help. 

It was a different kind of heartbreak when the devastation plagued a familiar place. As soon as he turned down the little gravel road that led to his neighborhood, he felt violently ill. It was like a swift punch in the gut, nearly causing him to double over at the wheel. The homes he had memorized along the street were gone, old trees completely uprooted, and cars overturned and totaled. 

“Oh my God,” Lily muttered from the backseat, bringing Tyler slightly out of his increasing panic. He didn’t know what he expected, based on the damage leading down the road toward your guys’ home, but nothing prepared him for seeing his little house in ruins. His mind didn’t even register what was happening until he abandoned his truck, running across what used to be the front yard. 

“No, no, no,” he whispered, unable to say much of anything else as he climbed over the rubble of the house. His chest felt impossibly tight, like his heart had been flattened alongside the homes, because his heart wasn’t in his chest anymore, not really. His heart was with you and your little girl; he’d given it away to you long ago and then again when he held his daughter for the very first time.

And neither one of you were anywhere to be seen. 

The Wranglers started to yell your name before Tyler found his voice and joined them. He peeled through the debris, numb to the pain in his hands as they cut against the mangled pieces of what once was a house. With each second that passed that he couldn't see you or hear you, his whole world seemed to darken around him. 

In the very back of his mind, he held a worry of something happening to him while he was chasing; he was as careful as he could be, making sure to only get into situations he could get himself and his team out of, but he never had considered he’d one day he at risk of losing you. 

Tyler had never considered having a little family of his own until he met you. He’d never felt so at home with a person since you crash-landed into his life. And after you two married, and you told him you were pregnant, he was faced with a brighter future than he’d ever imagined for himself. The idea that he may have lost it so suddenly was excruciating. 

“I got ‘em!” Boone yelled above the blood rushing in Tyler’s ears. Boone was on the other side of what used to be the house, grasping a bloodied hand that poked out of the rubble. “I need some help over here!” 

Tyler sprinted across the yard, as did the rest of the Wrangles. Lily, Dexter, and Dani ripped back the pile of debris while Boone and Tyler pulled on your hand, helping you out of the basement. You landed on your knees, one hand still clutching Tyler’s while your other was holding onto the baby. 

A cry of relief left Tyler’s lips as he fell to the ground in front of you. Your hand wasn’t the only thing that was bloodied, it ran down the side of your face and stained the sleeve of your shirt. 

“Baby,” he muttered, carefully grasping the sides of your face to get a better look at you. Your eyes were a little unfocused, red-rimmed, and watery. He wiped some of the blood off of your cheek, causing you to wince in pain. “Are you okay?” Clearly, you weren’t, but he needed to know if there was more damage than the cuts and bruises. Your eyes instantly fell onto the baby in your arm, panic taking hold of your features. 

“I-I don’t know,” you cried. You pulled back the blanket slightly from your daughter’s face, and there were a couple drops of blood smeared across her delicate skin. “I don’t know,-” Your voice caught in your throat, resulting in a shaky sob. 

Carefully, Tyler took the baby, who looked up at him with a quiet contentness, despite the chaos. She babbled quietly, reaching up toward him. He let her wrap her little hand around his fingers and quickly looked her over for any injuries. When he wiped the blood away, he quickly realized it was yours, not hers, which made him both feel relief and panic at the same time. 

“There’s EMTs comin’ in now. I’ll grab one!” Dani said before she took off down the road where the sirens wailed. 

Boone kneeled beside Tyler, squeezing his shoulder lightly. “Do you want me to take the kid to get checked out while you wait here, with her?” Tyler nodded, passing off the baby to Boone, who smiled kindly down at her and started talking nonsense in the way that always made the little girl smile. 

Tyler’s full focus was on you as your shock started to wear off. You grabbed a fist full of his shirt, struggling to breathe as you tried to speak. “I fell asleep,” you choked out. “S-She went down for a nap, and I fell asleep. I didn’t…” A sputtered breath fell from your lips as Tyler held you close, hand placed firmly on the back of your head and the other rubbing something circled across your back. 

“It’s all right,” he whispered against the side of your head that wasn’t cut. “You’re okay.” 

You buried your head into his chest, sagging against him. “I’m sorry,” you said between hiccups. 

Confusion flushed Tyler. “What in the world are you sorry for?” He was the one who was sorry. He knew tornados were unpredictable, that was all a part of their nature. But he felt like he should have known the storm was coming for you, even if it was something completely out of his control. You had done everyone right; he left you alone. 

You didn’t answer, though. Instead, you squeezed your eyes closed just as Dani led an EMT back to where you two sat in the front yard. Not too far, Tyler could see Boone holding onto your baby girl while she was looked over too. By the little smile on her lips when Boone made a funny face, Tyler knew she was okay, and that was all thanks to you. 

You had to spend a couple of hours in the hospital, getting a couple stitches and diagnosed with a minor concussion. Other than that, both you and your daughter were okay. 

Since your guys' home was torn apart, the three of you posted up in one of the nicer motels just outside of town. You lounged on the bed, smiling softly as you watched Tyler and your daughter engage in a riveting conversation of nonsensical words and babbles that almost sounded like words. He felt your gaze and met it from his position at the end of the bed. 

The bumps and bruises would fade, and homes could be rebuilt; the most important thing was that all three of you were okay. Your little family, something you only wanted to protect, was still standing strong. 

Tyler scooped the baby girl up in his arms before he moved it sit right beside you, pressing a kiss to your cheek before he did the same to your daughter. You rested your head on his shoulder, brushing a gentle finger across the little girl’s chubby cheeks. 

“We’re okay,” you whispered, like a reminder to yourself. 

Tyler wrapped an arm around you, pulling you impossibly close before he repeated, “We’re okay.”

[martiansodas-blog]

too pretty to think.

when art started to slip, it almost felt like falling asleep…

a. donaldson x reader

word count: 2,216

contents: dumbification, body worship, face sitting, multiple orgasms, cuming untouched, brief mommy kink, subspace, nicknames and pet names, this is freak nasty.

Xx

The first time 

You and Art have been going steady for 6 months and you loved every second of it. the two of you mostly hung out at your place, it's a tad cleaner than his dorm and he never bothered with things like decorations. It was a haven for the both of you. So when your Blackberry buzzed with a message asking,

“r u home?” 

It was hardly out of the ordinary.

“yeah. just changed clothes”

“can i come over?”

“of course”

Donaldson is a man who never knows when to quit. Let's rephrase: He’ll only quit when instructed to. 

He treats his body like a machine. He eats what his nutritionist tells him to, he pushes his body to the limit, and he rarely turns in a paper late. 

When you opened your front door your boyfriend was in chaotic ruins. His eyes were puffy and his cheeks were stained. He stared at the floor with his calloused hands in his pockets.

“Oh my gosh, what happened?? What’s wrong?”

Your tone had urgency as you ushered him inside. Once the door is closed he pulls you in for a hug. You don’t dare speak, just hug back. He’ll tell you when he’s ready. 

It’s obvious he’s trying to hold himself together, but stroking his back caused him to break.

“Aw, baby,” 

You sway him from side to side. 

“Shh, it’s ok. I’m here.”

After a few minutes, Art regained control of his breathing. You put him at arm's length—your voice just above a whisper. 

“Would you like to come lay down with me? We don’t have to talk about it if you don't want to, let's just get you comfortable.”

Art sniffles and nods his head—your poor baby. 

You held his hand and led the way to your room. You sat on your bed with your back against the wall so he could lay between your legs. He often takes this position when you guys are watching movies so it will add a level of comfort for him. 

Art takes some deep breaths as you run your nails through his hair. 

“We got a new coach and he- he’s so intense. I don’t know. I’ve been berated by coaches since I was 13. Why the hell is this one affecting me differently?” 

You twist one of his curls in your fingers. 

“Everything's just so much right now. Schoolwork, post-graduation plans, sponsorships… There's so much going on all the time. I- I can’t do it.” 

Your heart broke for him. 

“I’m so sorry, Artie. I wish I could take it all away from you.”

You rubbed his arms and back for who knows how long. It could have been hours. You didn’t care. You’d cancel your week's agenda if that’s what he needed. You weren’t getting up until he felt better. 

You analyzed his words.

“It’s not that you’re unable to make decisions, and it’s not that you make bad decisions. It’s just that decisions are constant unrelenting work… is that an accurate assessment?”

He nodded and sighed into your shirt like you were the one person in the world who understood him. 

“...And a good boy like you should never have to work.” 

Art froze. 

Well, that’s new. 

You decided to test the waters further and put on your most sultry voice. 

“Don’t worry baby, I’ll think for you.” 

He let out a sound that can only be described as a mewl. His body curled into a semi-circle. 

You swept some hair out of his eyes, they seemed to get droopier.

I don't know what exactly is transpiring he’s responding to it.

“Let your thoughts go. You don’t need them.” 

Eyes are fully closed now.

“Can you unclench your jaw for me? That’s it.”

He does as he's told, falling deeper into whatever hollow you're creating. He bites back a smile but his blush is evident. So easy to get him to blush. One of his cutest attributes.

Next step is Moving your handsome boy to lay on his stomach so you can rub his shoulders. You hear him sigh while the tension is worked out of his muscles and watch him relax under your hands. 

Walking him through some deep breaths while you place dozens of soft, light kisses on his neck. 

You want to make him understand what a privilege it is to have him.

Rubbing his thighs and calves, slowly melting away the stress of the day. Kisses on the backs of his knees while he laughs and tells you to stop that and that it tickles.

Helping him turn over to lie on his back and climbing carefully on top to straddle him.

You toy with the hem of his shirt. 

“Can I take this off?”

He looks up at you. mouth open and nods. 

It causes you to giggle. 

“Thank you.” 

Once that’s out of the way your hands wander up to his chest while trailing more impossibly light kisses down his Adam's apple. Massaging his chest, squeezing and grabbing and just feeling his skin. 

Kissing his collarbones, trailing your tongue along the dip where they meet under his neck. Slowly working that boy up with teasing touches that only get more and more unbearable.

Slowly returning to his lips to kiss him again while you reach down to trail your fingertips over his cock. He pants and whines so sweetly into your mouth while you play with his cock. You're not even trying to make him cum-- not yet. 

I could do this all day. 

Letting him drift in a fuzzy-headed space while you work your fingers soft and slow over his pants. Doesn't need to worry about anything but your hands on his body. You're right here to keep him safe and make him feel good.

“There's nothing I love more than watching my brilliant, polite, well-spoken boyfriend turn mindless.” 

Art whined and bucked his hips up to meet your hand.

“I need to be in you so bad. Please.”

Who are you to refuse him?

“Don't worry baby, I’ll give you what you want.” 

You slid off him and he reached for you, like he couldn’t stand you being an inch away for any amount of time. You chuckled and took off your bottoms and underwear, he copied. 

You hopped back on top of him, which made him break out into a smile. His girl was about to take care of him. 

You grabbed his cock and started stroking him. 

“I don’t know if I’m wet enough, Artie.”

“Sitonmyface.” He begged all in one breath. 

You bit your lip so as not to laugh at him. It wasn’t in a mean way, no no! He was just so excited about it. It’s adorable and flattering all at the same time.

“Are you sure? We’ve never done that before.”

We haven’t done a lot of this before. 

He shamelessly nodded. Grabbing your waist with both hands and shifting your body up before you could protest. 

“I don’t want to crush you.”

At this point, he was panting. A dog seconds away from getting a treat. 

“You won’t.” 

Art has eaten you out before, and it’s been wonderful. But this? This is a new kind of ecstasy. 

His tongue reaches new trenches. 

And that fucking nose. It bumped your clit every time. You were gasping and making noises you didn’t know were possible. His mouth is memorizing your folds. He's getting off on your arousal.  His tip is red and hurting, but can barely care when a taste crafted just for him is on his lips. 

“Shit. Just like that.” 

Your thighs trapped his face, your breath hitched with every thrust, and your walls clenched around his tongue. 

“Oh god, oh god,” 

Truthfully, Art didn't know which of you came first. 

The only thing he knew was your body. 

You shuffled down and kissed all over his face which was covered in your release. 

“You made mommy feel so good.”

He smiled up at you. He was so proud that he could do that for you. Like it was his purpose in life. And oh did he love that nickname. It made him feel all soft, like when you recall a fond memory. 

“Do you want Mommy to sit on your cock?” 

He whimpered and nodded. 

You lined yourself up with him and sank. It was so easy due to both of your juices, you had to concentrate on lowering slowly so he didn’t bottom out too fast. 

The two of you moaned in unison. It was almost tantric. Even though the focus here is on Art, it’s impossible not to feel the same pleasure. It wasn’t just your sexualities that were aligned but your souls. The love you felt for each other was palpable. 

It didn’t take long for him to bottom out. But it wasn’t enough. You ground your hips into him, causing his voice to raise an octave. 

“Oh fuck. Hnnn! Fuck, feels so good, please.”

He was babbling nonsense, unable to create cohesive thoughts or keep any sounds in. 

You remove his hands clutching the sheets and replace them with your own. To bring him back to earth. 

When he couldn’t get enough he bucked his hips up into yours. Moving aimlessly, mindlessly. You held his hips down to the mattress and bounced on his dick. The sounds of his cock hitting your weeping entrance were insanely beautiful and sinful to listen to. 

“Such a good boy.” 

His dick jumped inside of you at that. Seemingly of its own volition. 

You shifted to pepper kisses on his jawline. The new position forced his cock to rub all kinds of new places. You nearly collapsed onto him from the shock. Heavy exhales leave your mouth. Your pussy suffocates his cock. 

“My good boy. Just a dumb little thing for me to use isn't that right.”

Art came on the spot. No warning. His skin flushed and curls were damp on his forehead. Words were coiled at his throat, coming out as broken sobs, wanting more. 

You rode him until it was clear he'd finished. 

“Did you cum for me, baby?”

“Yes. I'm sorry I should’ve said something I couldn't help it. Felt too good, I didn’t -“

“Shh sweetheart, you did nothing wrong. You can cum in me as many times as you like. That's what I’m here for. That’s what this,” you clenched around him, “is for.” 

“Fuck.” his breath quivering. He arched his back, sensitive little thing. 

“I love it when you spill yourself into me. it’s so warm in here now.” 

You placed his hand on your lower stomach, your womb. 

“Can we go again please?”

“Are you sure? I don't want to push you.”

He shuffled so you were both sitting up. causing you to gasp. His erection never left, and it’s ever so prevalent right now. 

“Please! Wanna keep myself buried here forever.” 

It was hard to remain the level-headed one after hearing that. 

“You make me so wet when you say that, Artie.” 

There's drool coming from his mouth as he watches you talk. Nothing behind those eyes.

“So wet and needy.” 

You soften your voice, and when you talk it’s into his mouth. 

“You gonna let me take you again?”

He groaned and nodded, then ferociously kissed you. He wrapped his strong arms around your torso and immediately disliked how much fabric was between the two of you. He ripped your t-shirt and sports bra off in nearly one motion. Sighing when he felt skin on skin.

“I’m going to play with you until there's nothing in that head except my name.”

And you did. You fucked him till his brain turned to mush. Till it felt so good he thought he was going crazy, till he couldn’t even hear how loud he was being. Just blissed out being pulled back into your cunt. 

What an honor, to have such an obedient, adoring boy like him. 

You let him stay like that, floaty and sweet until he fell asleep to whispered praises. 

“My good boy. You did such a good job for me.”

A kiss to his forehead. 

“You know I love you so much.”

Tucked under the covers.

“So good for me, honey. You're okay. I'm proud of you. You're all mine, and I'm all yours.”

You raked your nails along his back.

“Relax, It'll all be there for you tomorrow. But for right now, all you need to be is my good, sweet boy. And you are.”

You moved off the bed which concerned Art. 

“Are you leaving?” 

He looked like he could cry. You cradled his face. 

“No baby boy, of course not. I’m only getting you some water. I’ll be right back” 

You spoke to him like a child bedridden with a cold. It was clear the comedown was something intense and never experienced before. He needed you next to him right now.

“Alright lovely, I know you’re tired but have a few drinks of this for me.”

You guided the water bottle into his mouth till you were satisfied with the amount he got in his system. 

“Rest now. I’ll cuddle you.” 

The blonde fell asleep immediately in your embrace and you hoped it wouldn't be the last time you took his thoughts away.

[starvail]

you just lost the game

narumi gen / gn!spouse!reader

synopsis : he’s made a recent discovery that for some reason, when you're the one doing his gacha pulls, his account wins the 50/50, so of course he's gonna abuse your luck for all it's worth.

content : only crack, gender neutral reader, reader works in jakdf, jenshin = genshin btw, narumi should have his own warning, narumi and reader are married (to the chagrin of the defence force), brief mentions of gambling, brief mentions of divorce.

words : 1k

a/n : sorry if you expected longer lol, think of this as a lil warm up before we really get into this series. also apologies for the one day delay, i came home from a surprise bottomless brunch and ahahaha...... i think we all can imagine how that ended up....

part one of 'a cheers to our youth'

It’s not until the time reaches two-thirty in the afternoon do you think to yourself that maybe it will be another peaceful day in Japan.

That is until rapid thumping of footsteps can be heard making their way to the Operations Room before someone slams both of the doors open, almost hitting a few operators that were unfortunate enough to be going on their break.

It was Captain Narumi Gen of the First Division in all his... very sweaty glory.

Hair sticking to his forehead with sweat, he’s frantic in the way that he repeatedly yells for your name and demands where you are.

Something in the pit of your stomach is telling you that something is wrong. But for some reason, it’s not the familiarity of dread that twists your insides with foreboding.

Something is definitely up.

You make your presence known and stand in front of him, hands in your lab coat pockets as you watch Narumi gasp for air, his back hunched over and hands on knees. You look down at him with a side eye, there is no way that one of the top protectors of Japan is out of breath running from where you assume is his 'claimed room' in HQ to Operations.

He grabs your shoulders with the kind of desperation that makes something crawl up your spine. "Thank God you're here!"

Okay, maybe this idiot is actually being serious for once.

"Is there an emergency meeting that we need to attend?” You shift his weight so that he has his right arm slung around the back of your neck.

You're rubbing soothing circles up and down his spine and he shakes his head for a no. By now, the entire room is listening in on the conversation.

“A kaiju attack that our sensors haven't picked up? Infiltration of the base? What's the damage? C'mon, work with me here, Stupid."

"Even worse..."

Narumi finally lifts his head up to look at you, red eyes peaking through his black and silver bangs. Anticipation rises and someone in the room gulps loudly.

You hope that the General Commander has sent out a few platoons already to assess the problem.

Has a kaiju alarm been sent out already? Are the civilians going to be okay? Why is this dumbass not changing into his-

"This limited character in Jenshin is leaving in five minutes, I need you to do my pulls for me!"

Narumi pulls his phone out of his pocket and shoves it right in your face.

"...What?"

You smack his arm away so that you don't go cross-eyed and you can only stare at the screen in disbelief.

He flicks some of his hair back. "Y'see, thanks to my spectacular observation skills and analytic abilities..."

As per usual, you drown him out.

There is no way that this guy is being genuine right now.

There is no way he barged in here just to gamble, on company time, no less.

"...coincides with the times that you do my pulls..."

You look away from the screen to observe him.

Narumi is animatedly flapping his free arm around like those inflatable tube men outside car dealerships, while the other keeps the phone steady.

"...not a coincidence, therefore you, my dearest..."

You look back at the phone.

The game character is staring at you, hauntingly.

He's being dead serious.

"...extremely lucky!"

Your eye twitches and you grit your teeth. 'This guy sure does love listening to the sound of his own voice...'

Next thing you know, his phone finds its way to the palms of your hands, and him ushering for you to start.

Still too flabbergasted, too appalled, too dismayed to even comprehend what you were doing, your finger mindlessly presses a button that says '10x Draws', and a golden glow flashbangs your vision.

Is this what your life has come to now?

Being used, being taken advantage of, all for your luck?

Narumi takes the phone back and sends you a triumphant look, as if he didn't just send all personnel in the room into a crippling mental spiral a few seconds ago, and is quick to gaze admiringly at the new character displayed on his screen, as if hyper focused.

"Thanks, Babe. You're a real life saver, y'know?"

It infuriates you how he sounds giddy, but you don't say that aloud, deciding to stew in your internal displeasure.

You mirror his smile and Narumi stays none the wiser to the flashing images behind your eyes of the numerous ways you can dispose of his body.

"See, this is why it's so great being married to someone as lucky as you. Pfft, and those old geezers say marriage is hard." At that moment, as if some higher being wanted to personally laugh in your face, Narumi readjusts his grip on his device and his wedding band shines from reflected light coming from the control monitors .

Your own ring burns at the realisation: you're legally stuck with that for the foreseeable future.

s n a p .

("I'm not the only one that heard that, right?" "Did that sound come from the Head?" "Nah, I definitely heard something too." "If Captain doesn't leave now, Head is gonna force us to help them erase the evidence...")

"Anyways, imma bounce. Gotta grind out the rest of their weapon mats." He carelessly throws up a peace sign without so much as a glance at anybody else, let alone you, and the operations room stays quiet when their Captain leaves with a newfound skip to his step, whistling in tune with the game's music.

Everyone watches on as you take a few deep breaths and walk back to your control panel, landing harshly into your swivel chair with your brows furrowed and a frown that could rival the General Commander's.

Those close enough can hear your muttered curses, "I'll show him. 'Japan's Strongest Anti-Kaiju Combatant', to hell with that! I'll show how hard marriage can really be. 'Another peaceful day in Japan', I should have kept my damn mouth shut."

Your fingers type against the keyboard with a new-found aggression, and soon enough, documents are displayed on the big screen of your monitor. They read 'Divorce Application and Proceedings', in bold font.

'Good luck, Captain Narumi,' the operators all think in unison.

[moonstruckme]

Thawing Out

collab with @ellecdc

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 | part 4 | part 5

cw: modern au, chronic pain, some talk of traumatic injury

poly!wolfstar x fem!reader ♡ 2.2k words

At five thirty in the morning, you send Sirius a text. 

Be on time, and there’s a caramel latte in your future. If you’re late I’m giving it to Marcello. 

Marcello is the guy who comes in early every morning to resurface the ice. You actually ordered a drink for him, too, but Sirius doesn’t need to know that. 

The morning air is cool and refreshing, sweeping across your cheeks in the self-made breeze of your brisk steps. You can only have one hand in your pocket with the other holding the drink carrier, but you don’t mind the bite of cold on your fingers. You’ve always loved the sharp, clean feel of winter weather. Though Sirius complains this time of year about leaving practice just to encounter yet more cold outside, the chilly air has always made you feel alive, invigorated. It wakes you up as you walk to the rink. 

Marcello leaves the staff door open for you every morning so that you can practice early. He’s still out on the Zamboni, so you leave his drink on the front desk where he’ll see it. You know you’re not the first person to the rink, but it surprises you that you’re not the second. 

It surprises you even more to find your new coach in the off-ice room. 

Remus is lying on the floor, one knee bent and the other ankle crossed over it in a stretch you recognize. His eyes are closed and his expression pinched. His chest rises and falls with deep, measured breaths. 

“Hi.” 

You try to announce your presence softly, but Remus' eyes fly open like he’s been caught doing something he shouldn’t be. You find yourself taking a step back as though to avoid frightening him. 

“Sorry,” you say automatically, and automatically, Sirius’ For what, doll? sounds in your head like an overplayed song. You set your shoulders back and walk over to Remus, crouching to set his drink beside him on the floor. You’ve wagered your bets on a plain tea; he seems like the no-nonsense sort. “I didn’t expect anyone else here this early, but this is for you.” 

“Thanks.” Remus grunts quietly as he sits up, and you pretend you don’t hear. He takes a tentative sip from his cup. You deduce that you’ve wagered correctly when his eyes close blissfully. “I can go if you want the room to stretch.” 

“That’s alright. Plenty of room for both of us,” you say awkwardly. 

But as soon as you set your foot up on the ballet bar, you second-guess yourself. Is it difficult for him, watching you do things he can no longer do himself? You knew about Remus’ injury—everyone does—but seeing his face creased in pain doing such a simple stretch is another thing entirely. 

You watch him covertly as you bend over your leg, feeling the pleasant strain in your muscles, but Remus’ expression doesn’t change. He only stands, taking his ankle in one hand and wrapping the other around the bar as he stretches his quads. 

Remus has long fingers, you’ve noticed. Pianist’s fingers. They make you think of every routine of his you’ve seen a million times, arms and hands always outstretched to emphasize the facile grace of his movements. He was art in motion, in his day. Now you’re not sure what he is. Still lovely, but something else. 

“I wanted to apologize.” 

Remus’ voice breaks into your reverie so gently that at first you think you’ve imagined it. You look up at him, bemused, and his gaze is steady on yours. It’s that skater’s poise. Quiet, resolute. 

“I didn’t mean to shout at you yesterday,” he says. “I was frustrated because I feel like you really could get past that jump with just a tiny adjustment—” his face tenses as some of that frustration seeps back into his voice now, but Remus quells it “—but I shouldn’t have raised my voice. Sirius was right, I wasn’t telling you in a way that was helpful.” 

“It’s okay.” Your voice comes out smaller than you mean for it to, but the air in the room feels thick and awkward. You’re not used to needing to have these conversations with people on your team. You, Sirius, and your coach used to be a unit. There was no need for shouting matches and make-ups. You had years of history together; you knew how to handle each other. You miss that ease terribly now. 

“What I should have said,” Remus goes on, “is that I’ve noticed you hesitating before a lot of higher difficulty jumps. You’ll be about to go into it, and then you second-guess yourself and under-rotate. That doesn’t work on the ice.” 

You drop your gaze, nodding. “I know,” you say as you swap legs on the bar. “I’ll try to stop.” 

“We’ll work on it.” Remus’ voice softens, and you glance up to find a sheepish sort of kindness in his eyes. One corner of his mouth lifts tentatively. “And I’ll work on giving better feedback the first time around.” 

You return his smile, a heavy load in your chest lifting just slightly. It feels like the return of your cautious optimism from before yesterday’s practice, like flirting with the possibility of everything being all right after all. Maybe you can salvage the season after all. 

Sirius practically stomps into the room, dark circles under both eyes and looking like he hates the world and everyone in it. Remus’ almost-smile evaporates. 

“Here you are.” You pass Sirius his coffee magnanimously. “Thank you for being on time.” 

He takes a long sip. Once he’s finished, he says gravely, “This can’t continue.” 

“You’ll get used to it,” you promise as Remus lets his foot drop and steps away from the bar to make room for Sirius. 

“Ten minutes of stretching,” your coach says gruffly. You feel your lips purse dissatisfiedly; you take this to mean that although he’s apologized to you, he’s not over his tiff with Sirius from the day before. Remus turns from the room. “I’ll see you out there.” 

─── ⋆⋅☆⋅⋆ ───

You manage to get through practice without bloodshed. Remus is short and businesslike, but while his pointers don’t leave much room for conversation he does take the time to make sure you understand him and he praises you when you improve. Sirius doesn’t spare many words for your new coach, though you know him saying little is likely an improvement over what he’d have to say if he did speak up. Still, he’s not exactly thorough in making sure Remus doesn’t see the smirks and derisive looks he sends your way every time your coach’s voice reaches you across the ice. The other boy pretends not to notice. 

It doesn’t escape you either that Remus has far less critiques for Sirius than for you. Sirius is more likely to get ahead of himself so that he falls out of sync with you, whereas you’re more likely to fall in general. 

You didn’t used to be like this. Just a handful of weeks ago you and Sirius were an equal match, but recent events have planted an anxiety in you that makes you bail out of your risker jumps and sabotages your routine. Remus is right; you’re hesitant. Sirius throws himself into every move, full-bodied and artful, but you just can’t do the same. Until you can catch up and get back to where you were, you’re a liability. 

You land most of your jumps, fall on more than usual, and by the time practice wraps up you know you’ll be bruised all over. If Remus is frustrated with you again, he’s better at hiding it. He only instructs you to work on whatever mental block is hindering you, promises to see you both tomorrow, and goes. 

Then Sirius can’t contain himself any longer. 

“God, what a prick,” he fumes as he puts guards on his skates. He starts undoing his laces, nails cut short for the season but still painted a shimmery black. “I hate that stupid line he gets between his eyebrows right before he lays into us. He’s like a sixty-year-old schoolteacher stuck in a twenty-something body.” 

You look down to hide a smile. “He was nicer today, though. That’s something.” 

Sirius scoffs. “Yeah, so was I. Did you lay into him, too?” 

“Didn’t have to,” you say complacently. “He apologized himself. You know, like adults do.” 

“Don’t be daft. He’s not taking the high road, he just doesn’t want to lose his job.” 

You turn to give Sirius an exasperated look, only he’s looking back at you with a similar expression. 

You know Sirius thinks you’re being too trusting of your new coach. He only wants to protect you, both of you, but something he’s never been able to grasp is that optimism doesn’t have to be blind. You can be wary of Remus, can have that same desire to protect the team you and Sirius have built together, and at the same time be hopeful that he really will be the thing you need. You’re desperate to make this work for the both of you. You’re a pair in repair, and though it was your former coach that broke you, if there’s a chance that Remus could fix things you’re ready to welcome him with open arms. 

Peter was Sirius’ friend before he was yours. He fell into coaching you both almost by accident, it felt so natural. Both you and Sirius had coaches throughout your childhoods, but it was nice to have someone around your own age, who viewed skating through the same lens as you did and could talk to you on a more personal level. Peter was your friend in a way your other coaches hadn’t been. That made his betrayal sting all the worse. 

There had been a hearing, when Peter’s texts came out. The International Skating Union had gotten involved. He’d been sharing things—tips, secrets, videos of your entire routine from start to finish—with another team. It felt odd, reading about it in the news. Almost invasive. It felt like something you should be discussing back at Sirius’, the three of you sat in your usual places around his living room, hashing it out the way you always did. But you weren’t a unit anymore. 

Sirius didn’t want another coach at all after that. You could keep each other in check, he said, and realistically anyone you hired would know all about your recent disaster with Peter. Your names were attached to one of the largest figure skating scandals the community had had in years. You saw the logic in your partner’s reluctance, but you still thought you needed an outside perspective to tell you when you both were going wrong. You needed a real coach. Then, you’d thought of Remus. 

You wish you could say it was Remus’ illustrious figure skating career that drew you to him. He was the golden boy of the sport for nearly a decade, shooting up into stardom at an unprecedented age. He earned enough medals to likely break whatever shelf his family tried to put them on, and he took home gold for Britain at just seventeen. But truthfully, it was his isolation that appealed to you. 

Remus Lupin left the figure skating community entirely after his injury. He’d returned to his hometown in Wales, reportedly to be with his family but more likely to heal—physically and mentally, from the hip dislocation that cost him Worlds and then the rest of his career. By all accounts, he would have been the last person to follow your hearing or any of the ensuing gossip everyone else you spoke to seemed to take as gospel. You had to fight tooth and nail to get Sirius to let you hire Remus, and even still he’s resistant to the addition to your team. But it’s in Sirius’ nature to expect people to hurt him; you have to be the opposite to compensate. 

“He said you were right,” you say lightly. 

Sirius blinks. “Pardon?” 

You shrug, feigning insouciance. “I don’t think it’s likely he’ll ever say it to your face, but this morning Remus told me that you were right, and he does need to communicate his feedback better. He seemed better about it today, right? I think it’s sweet that he’s trying.” 

Sirius scowls, standing while you finish packing up. “He’s kissing your ass because he knows you were the one who wanted him. He doesn’t give a shit about us.” 

“I didn’t mention anything,” you reply. “And he may not, but he definitely gives a shit about skating. I walked in on him stretching in the off-ice room this morning. It was…sad.” A small part of you feels wrong for sharing this, even with Sirius; it felt like a private moment you’d intruded on, although Remus had been stretching in a public place. “You can tell he really misses it, you know?” 

Sirius is quiet for a beat, and when you look over he’s sucking his teeth. Peering at you in that way of his, like he’s got you all figured out. 

“You should have a heart-to-heart with him about it,” he says blankly. “He seems like the sort of bloke who really enjoys a pity party.” 

“Prick.” You stand, bumping your shoulder into his roughly. Sirius wraps an arm around them to bind you to his side, walking you towards the exit. “We’re stopping for donuts on our way home. You owe me after I bought your coffee.” 

“Oi, bribery’s no good if I have to pay it back. And what would your new favorite coach say about us eating those during the season?” 

“The same as any coach; nothing, because we’re not gonna tell him.”

[loveanddeepspaceimagines]

Do you think you could do something with the boys and an asthmatic reader? Whether theyre extremely or mildly asthmatic? Been struggling a little bit as the weather changes so I'd love to see your take on it! Thank you!

When you have asthma attack

I'm so sorry that you are struggling, i hope you feel better soon! wish you well <3

I'm not very familiar on how Asthma works and how it feels to be asthmatic but i tried to put together something for you!

Rafayel did know you were asthmatic, he just never seen you having Asthma Attack ,so when he found you hunched over on the floor, wheezing and struggling to catch your breath. The sight of you in distress sent a wave of panic through him. He quickly ran to your room to find your inhaler running back to you and knelt next to you. "y/n take a deep breath. Here, use this," he said, pressing the inhaler to your lips.

You took a deep breath, the medicine easing its way into your lungs. Rafayel rubbed your back, trying to help you regain your breath. "It's okay, baby. Just breathe. I'm here," he reassured you.

As your breathing steadied, he helped you to sit up, pulling you in his arms. "Do you want to lay down?" he asked softly, concern on his face.

You nodded, and he scooped you up carrying you to the bedroom. He laid you down gently, covering you with a blanket. He sat on the edge of the bed, watching you, making sure your breathing stayed steady.

He reached for a glass of water, bringing it to your lips. "Drink this," murmured, helping you to sip.

"Do you need anything else?" he asked. You shook your head, a small smile tugging at your lips. "Just you. Thank you for being here, Raf."

Radayel smiled back, his eyes soft. "Anytime, baby. You know I'm always here for you." He leaned down, pressing a tender kiss to your forehead. "Get some rest, and I'll make sure you're feeling better in no time."

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

During one of mission with Xavier, you found yourself struggling to breathe, your asthma flaring up unexpectedly. The adrenaline and the chaos around you only made it worse. "Xavier, I can't... I can't breathe," you gasped, your hand moving to your pocket to look for inhaler.

Without hesitation, Xavier pulled your inhaler from your pocket, his hands steady as he helped you to your feet. He guided your hands to position the inhaler correctly, preparing to help you breathe in deeply.

"Take it slow baby," he murmured, his voice shaky but gentle. You followed his lead, inhaling the medication as he held you steady. He wrapped his arm around your waist, supporting you as you took deep breaths.

As your breathing started to even out, he checked your condition, his eyes never leaving yours. "Better?" You nodded, still catching your breath. "Yeah, thanks baby. I'm sorry."

He shook his head, dismissing your apology. "Don't be sorry. I've got you, y/n. We've got this." His hand squeezed yours reassuringly.

He helped you to lean against a wall for support, his free hand still holding your inhaler. He checked on you periodically throughout the mission, ensuring your asthma didn't flare up again.

When the mission was over, and the two of you were safe, Xavier made sure to sit you down and check on you properly. "Are you okay, now? Do you need anything?"

You smiled gratefully at him, his care and protection never failing to send flutter to your heart. "I'm fine, really. Just... thanks for looking out for me."

He returned your smile, his eyes filled with love. "Of course, Y/n. You know I'd do anything for you."

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You two were in the middle of what started as little argument, but quickly escalated due to your poor communication. Your chest tightened, and you gasped for air. The last thing you needed was an asthma attack, especially in such a tense situation.

Sylus noticed your struggle and immediately dropped the argument he was having with you. He moved to your side, his hands cupping your face. "Y/n, you're having an attack. Try to calm down Sweetie" he said, his voice firm yet gentle.

He moved to grab your inhaler from the nearby shelf and handed it to you, his eyes never leaving yours. You took a few puffs, feeling the cold mist soothe your chest. He rubbed your back helping you to relax and focus on your breathing.

"It's okay I'm here" he said, his voice a soft murmur as you tried to regain control over your breathing. "You can let it all out now. I'm not going anywhere."

You took a few more puffs from your inhaler, finally feeling the tightness in your chest loosen. You leaned into Sylus as He wrapped his arms around you, pulling you close.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean for this to happen," you whispered, feeling tears prick at the corners of your eyes. He held you tighter kissing the top of your head.

"It's not your fault. We'll talk about this later okay? Right now you need to focus on getting better." His voice was calm and reassuring, making it easier for you to let go of the tension that had been building up between you two.

When you felt stable enough you looked up at him, a small smile forming on your lips. "Thank you" you whispered. He smiled back at you, his eyes filled with love, "Anything for you, Sweetie. "

⋆｡‧˚ʚ ɞ˚‧｡⋆

You were out on a date, enjoying a quiet dinner at a candlelit restaurant. Everything was peace and perfect ,however,season changes wasn't easy for you since you were asthmatic and you were having hard time,dealing with it.

So that's why when you were middle of admiring the view something triggered your asthma, causing your chest to tighten.

Panic flashed across your face, and you fumbled in your bag for your inhaler.

Zayne knew you were asthmatic so he was always ready ,carrying medicine just in case. So when he noticed your distress he quickly took over, pulling out the inhaler from his coat pocket and helped you use it, steadying you as you took deep breaths.

"It's okay, baby, just try to take deep breathes," he said, his voice calm and reassuring. You leaned against him, grateful for his quick reaction. Zayne held you close, waiting for you to stabilize.

Once you felt a bit better, he guided you out of the restaurant, you walked at a slow pace, giving you time to catch your breath. "Do you need to go home?" he asked, his hand gently rubbing your back.

You shook head, "No, I think I'm okay now. I just need a moment." He nodded walking you to a nearby park, finding a quiet corner with a bench. You two sat down, and he held your hand, watching as you took slow, deep breaths. "We can just sit here for a bit, then we can head home if you want," he murmured softly

You smiled, leaning head on his shoulder. "Let's just stay here, I feel safe with you." Zayne wrapped his arm around you, pulling you closer. You sat in silence, the soothing sound of the night filling the air.

©loveanddeepspaceimagines 2024

[meownotgood]

WEEK ONE — masturbation + aki hayakawa, 18+, gn!reader, jerking off, pillow humping, sexual fantasies, edging, a hint of degradation, aki just can't help his feelings for you

kinktober masterlist

Everyone knows Aki has a crush on you. 

It's as obvious as it could possibly be. He's always staring, always coming up with any excuse he can to slip away from work for a while and come talk to you. He leaves frequent gifts on your work desk: notes in his handwriting, flowers or snacks or souvenirs he got for you from Hokkaido. 

He's unusually awkward when your name gets brought up in conversation, he's jittery whenever you're around — The last time you tagged along on the division's monthly drinking night, Aki was practically a mess, choosing to drown himself in as much alcohol as he had the pocket change to order, simply to keep from losing it because you'd sat next to him. Of course you had to sit right next to him. 

You've kept him infatuated for forever now. The thing is, Aki doesn't care if he's obvious. You're so pretty, he thinks. He's thought so from the very beginning. You're pretty and interesting and smart and it isn't his fault; he really can't control how his heart flutters and his head goes dizzy every time you talk to him, it just happens. You just have that effect on him. 

He can't help but feel shy every time you call his name in that sweet voice of yours; so polite, sticking to Hayakawa-sir even though he's told you before that you can use his first name. You grin every time, and you explain, But you get embarrassed when I call you Hayakawa. He can't help it when his face turns red all the way to the tips of his ears because you're teasing him, giving him a hard time for how stuttery he's getting. 

You were particularly teasing today. Aki knew you must've been in a good mood from the moment he arrived at headquarters. You held him by his arm, you cooed praises into his ear for how hard he's been working lately. Told him if he ever needed a break, he could come to your office any time he wants to and you'd give him a massage or make him some coffee. You insist. 

Maybe that's why he can't sleep right now. 

He's tried to get some sleep this time, he seriously has. He hates when he's like this. When he finds he's unable to stop thinking about you, he'll try everything he can to wind down and make himself forget. He'll go for a run to try and get his energy out, take an ice cold shower, smoke until his lungs are burning to attempt to quell the noise in his mind, and yet tonight, none of that has worked. 

Nothing can chase away those thoughts of you, those memories of your pretty face and your teasing hands. Nothing convinces his heart to stop pounding within his chest. Aki tosses, turns. His sheets rustle and his mattress shifts underneath his weight. 

It's a real conundrum. He's felt hot all over ever since he climbed into bed. His face is warm, he's practically sweating. Turning again, he takes a quick glance at his alarm clock, the screen reads 11:54 which is several hours since he first attempted to sleep and a few minutes since he last checked it. 

You were touching him so much today. So much, more than he's used to, even for you. No-one else ever touches him like that, nobody ever hugs him, holds his hand, makes him feel wanted. He wonders if you know how worked up you get him, if you can tell his heart is racing, or know the reason why he's shifting is because his slacks are getting tight. 

11:56, now. Aki's head is spinning. 

This is stupid, wrong of him, even. He's not super close to you. You're just one of the Public Safety office workers. If he wants to be technical, he could be considered your superior, actually. A superior fantasizing about one of the little devil hunter assistants. He's terrible. 

Aki can't help but yearn to feel your touch elsewhere, everywhere. He needs it, needs you, warmth buds in his core and there's a steady ache between his legs. He was short on breath before, when you'd grabbed his arm and pressed real close, and even now, just from thinking about it, he's — 

Fuck. Aki twists, rolling from his side onto his back, he rubs his knotted up temple with his finger and his thumb. It's too much. You're going to be the death of him. 

His breath comes out heavy and shaking and loud in his ears. His chest rises up and down, his trembling fingers slip under the blanket, then underneath the waistband of his sweats, and his heart begins to pound faster in anticipation, hammering against his ribs.

He hesitates for a second. In the end, he gives in like he always does. Shame pools thick in the pit of his stomach, but it isn't enough to stop him from working his hand down — His palm brushes the soft fabric of his briefs, he gropes the shape of his cock through his boxers and he's already stiff. He sighs, he lets his head toss back. 

You'll forgive him for this, right? You'd forgive him for getting hard when all you did was barely touch him, and for using thoughts of you to get himself off, wouldn't you? He's just so lonely, so stressed out, that's all this is. You have to forgive him, you have to understand. Aki swiftly decides you would, because he can't wait any longer; he's been needy like this for hours upon hours now and at this point, it's far too late for him to stop. 

Aki pushes the blanket away, he tugs his sweats and his briefs down to his thighs at the same time, he hisses when his cock comes free. Slowly, he wraps his palm around, and he brings his thumb to the head, rubs it slow, feels himself throb steadily in his hand. 

He's already dripping, precum beads in droplets at his slit and dribbles down to dirty his knuckles, each of his fingers. There's wetness sticking to his palm. A disgusting sound echoes as he pumps himself, up and down nice and careful, his bottom lip drawn between his teeth. 

It feels so fucking good. Aki groans in pleasure, immediately forgets how perverted this is, he closes his eyes, thinks of you. He isn't the type to do this, he's never felt this way about anyone, he doesn't even touch himself because he's never had a reason to — but you've changed everything. 

You're the reason for this, and when he's got his cock in his fist, you're all he can think about. He imagines your touch, your voice, your warm breath on his skin. Aki tries to picture how it'd feel to kiss you, to press his lips on yours and have your tongue in his mouth. How it'd feel to hold you, to have you be the one to jerk him off. 

Your hands are so perfect; Aki's memorized the way they look, the way they fold when you're writing or grabbing his arm or holding your drink. They're dainty compared to his, they'd probably feel softer, so much gentler. Ever since a few weeks ago, he's fallen into the habit of using his left hand to touch himself as opposed to his right. It's clumsier this way, but it's easier to imagine his hand is someone else's, yours. 

Your soft hand around his dick, stroking him just like this — Aki doesn't know if he'd be able to last. If he'd even be able to look at you, let alone talk, let alone do anything but plead your name.

Your fingers are so pretty, you'd complimented him once, Aki remembers how you sat next to him and intently watched him sign paperwork like it was the most interesting thing in the world. He'd shaken his head and written you off then, but he wants to know if you'd compliment him again, if you'd still think so when his fingers are cradling your face or pushing past your lips. 

Would you still think he's as pretty — his fingers wrapped around his cock, his hair down and how you like it, his earrings you say you like so much glinting in the low light — if you saw him like this? 

He wonders if you'd tease him the same as you do at the office. Oh, Mister Hayakawa, you've been wanting this for so long, haven't you? You're so fucking dirty. How long have you been jerking yourself off every night to the thought of me? So damn needy, you just want me to take care of you, huh? 

Yeah, he's dirty, he's rocking his hips into his grip, he's whining and sighing soft gasps of pleasure, louder than he probably should be. He's pumping his fist faster as he pictures your face down between his legs; you'd look precious with your hair tucked back, your lips would feel as plush as he'd imagined and you'd stare up at him with such an innocent expression, your eyes practically sparkling as you take his cock in your mouth. 

He can't take it. Aki pants with weight behind every breath, he twists his wrist and squeezes, pumps even faster and thinks he just might lose his mind right here — and then, he takes his hand away. 

He lets go, his dick falls against his stomach and he keeps one hand in his hair and the other beside him, despite how badly his nerves are screaming for him to keep touching. He allows his breath to even out, stares at the ceiling and waits for his mind to clear.

He doesn't want to cum yet. Not when it's only been a few minutes. If he cums now, he'll probably get too exhausted to cum a second time. So he can't, not right now, not when he has more he wants to think about. 

Twisting over on his side, Aki brushes his bangs away when they fall messily around his face. He presses his palm to his forehead, feeling the sweat trickling from his skin. His fingers twitch. He debates what he's about to do for a few seconds.

He shouldn't, it'll be a hassle. But when he knows how good it's going to feel, he can't resist. Hurrying, he lifts his head and grabs his pillow from underneath, he adjusts, burying his face in the sheets when it starts to feel warmer. He situates himself on his stomach, pillow firm between his legs. 

Deep, slow rolls of his hips cause him to forget any of the sense he was still holding onto. He exhales hard, shakes even harder. Aki fists the sheets in a tight hand, he leans his head into his forearm, he grinds his aching cock against his pillow until his thighs are beginning to hurt.

If he was more confident, confident enough to tell you how he feels, maybe he wouldn't be in this mess. Maybe if you knew, you'd let him fold you over his bed and fuck you just like how he's been dreaming of, slowly and dizzyingly tender, enough to make him forget about everything else. Maybe. If he's good. God, does he even deserve it? 

Either way, it doesn't matter what he wants. He'll do whatever the hell you ask him to, whatever you'd be willing to give him he'd be happy with — He'd be content just fucking the space between your thighs, or having you talk to him while he gets himself off and humps his pillow like a pathetic idiot; anything you want, whatever you want. As long as you're there, as long as he can hear your voice and feel your touch, and not be so alone. 

The smooth cotton of his pillowcase is slick and wet with his precum. His cock is throbbing incessantly, pleasure spreads through his entire body and he doesn't care that his mattress is squeaking, that he's losing rhythm. He breathes heavy with every rut of his hips and imagines you're here, you're beneath him. 

Arms strung around him tight, you'd lock eyes with him and he wouldn't dare to look away. Feels so good, you're perfect, Aki, you'd praise, and he loves your praises, You wanna cum? Oh, but you can hold out for a little longer for me, can't you? 

Aki shivers. Of course. If you're the one asking him, he just has to. Especially when you call him Aki.

Aki, that's it, keep going. You're so sweet, so good for me. I belong to you. I'm all yours, forever and ever. Does that make you happy?

You're his, all his. You'd sound so perfect moaning his name as he bullies his cock into you. His first name, his and no-one else's, no extra politeness or honorifics. You'd say it softly as he slides inside, say it when you're begging him to fill you deeper, repeat it when you're telling him he's got to beg for you if he wants to finish. 

C'mon, Aki. Cum for me. Give me all of it. 

Yeah, Aki mumbles out loud to himself, his voice is breaking, he thrusts his hips with reckless abandon, I'll give you everything, oh, f-fuck, I'm gonna cum, I'm gonna cum… 

He shoves his face into the bed as much as he can manage to muffle his noise, his fragile moans and loud whimpers. His shoulders tense, muscles aching. A few more shallow movements and he's done; he chants your name over and over again as he finishes, cumming all over his pillow and his sheets, thick ropes of white dirtying the fabric, making a mess. 

Falling limp, Aki lays like that for a while, catching his breath. Everything begins to fade, working through to tiredness. He should get up and shower, wash his sheets and his pillowcase, but he's so exhausted he can't even manage to move. 

He feels warm all over again, just less intense this time. Aki realizes he was saying your name as he came. Embarrassing. He can only hope he wasn't loud enough for anyone to hear. 

He'll fall asleep now, at least, with warm thoughts of you to fill his head. A date with you would be nice sometime. Nothing too crazy. He'd take you anywhere you wanted to. He also wouldn't mind taking you back to his apartment and making you something for dinner, whatever you'd like. 

If you were here now, he'd hold you as close as he can get you, breathing soft and slow while drifting off silently, his arms wrapped secure around your waist.

He's almost asleep. But —

Ah. He'd forgotten he has to work at the office tomorrow. So he's going to have to face you, first thing in the morning. 

The next time he sees you, he doubts he'll be able to do much talking. But he'll get busier soon, there's a lot of devil hunting missions coming up. Who knows when Aki is going to see you next, so if he doesn't tell you his feelings soon, when will he? 

He's decided. Tomorrow, he's going to ask you out. 

[gremlingottoosilly]

metalhead! konig and alternative!reader plz🙏🙏. i just need konig to protect me in a moshpit at a concert. im short so i need a 6’10 giant to protect me ���🫶

Your first time at the real concert in Vienna was...a lot. Drunken Germans, yelling tourists, someone definitely doing crack in the corner, and some girls that looked like they were ready to sacrifice the strongest one to the devil. You belong here, of course, with your heavy boots and even heavier makeup - the foundation already feels like a mask on your skin, not allowing you to breathe without cracking a layer of powder and lipstick all over your mouth, but you tried your hardest to have fun. And you did have fun - except for the time you were pushed to the mosh pit. In your unstable heavy boots - the coolest shit ever, of course, and also the thing that made you reconsider all of your life choices that had led to this. Maybe you were the brave gothic alt butterfly who got into the pit all by herself - unfortunately, the reasoning won't change the outcome. European concerts might not be as wild as some of the American ones, but drunk Germans and Austrians are something to be concerned about...and old metalheads who been jamming here since the fall of The Wall is something that is going to be your funeral...this is when you felt a hand on your shoulder. "Are you alright, Schatzen?" Man sounded awkward, almost nervous. Mumbled some apology before finally snatching up up in his hands - and you were ready to kick him in the balls with those spikes in your boots and scream bloody murder, but then you understood that he just...got you off the pit. That was filled with people a second later - people that would definitely crush you if you stayed here. Guy's name is Konig and he was actually not liking the concert very much. He said he loved the group - since he was a teen which, you presume, was quite a long time ago - but he hated the crowds. His friend got him a ticket and then couldn't come with him, which made him kinda lonely and kinda heroic to a sweet thing like you. Konig is nervous and you grab his hand to steady him - you swear to god you feel his fingers tremble as you bring your body closer. Concert was nice - but it's nicer when he grabs you by your hips and lifts you up on his shoulders so you could get a clean view at the band. You feel scared at first - not trusting that he won't drop you...but his hands don't even waver as he keeps his cool, making sure you're stable and having fun. You slip your number in his pocket as he walks you to the bus home - and you don't even resist when he awkwardly leans down to kiss you, his mask down to his chin. Your black lipstick is all over his mouth now, and you make sure to lick it all off. Don't want to leave a bad first impression, after all.

[nanaslutt]

Dear Nana, may I ask for exhibitionist!NB!Reader groping Choso under his clothes in a quiet hallway at Jujutsu High?? ?

contains: no pronouns or gendered features used for reader, established relationship, exhibitionism, voyeurism, teasing, dirty talk, hand jobs, Choso cums in his pants, nipple play, cum eating

MDNI

°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ࿔*:･°❀⋆.ೃ

The halls of Jujutsu high were silent, save for the birds singing to each other that could be heard through the cracked windows, tangling with the rustling of the wind through the trees, yelling and laughing of students and teachers enjoying the picnic outside; and of course, Choso's loud breaths.

The two of you stood in a corner of the hallway in some building of Jujutsu High, completely out in the open as the both of you stood facing the large windows that cutoff at the average persons waist. Giving you the perfect opportunity to stand behind Choso's large frame and slide your hands in his pockets, digging deep into the cloth as you found his stiff cock hiding behind his boxers and groped him through the material.

To any passersby who walked behind you, it would simply appear as if one partner was embracing the other lovingly; and that was the case of course, but they would also be missing crucial information about the scene in front of them— that being the not safe for work activities your hands were performing in his pants.

Thankfully the school should be completely vacant. The teachers thought it would be a good moral booster to bring the staff and students of Jujutsu High together for a get-together. Clearly, the idea was a good idea as you and Choso watched everyone mingle and laugh together. You thought the idea was brilliant also, after all, it gave you and Choso the perfect excuse to slip away, who would notice two people missing in a crowd of dozens of people?

You had told Choso you needed help getting more ice for everyone, so of course he had no reason to decline, especially not with the way you tangled your fingers with his; in front of everyone; and dragged him away into the privacy of one of Jujutsu highs many buildings. When you stopped him in the corner of the hallway and pressed him agaisnt the window using your body behind him, he relished in the feeling of you slipping your hands into his pockets affectionately, his chest blossoming with warmth as he felt you rest your cheek against the side of his back and people-watch your peers.

What he hadn't expected, was you pressing your fingers against the insides of his sensitive thighs in his pockets, raking your fingers against the skin there as you occasionally bumped the digits into his soft cock. He didn't think you were doing it on purpose at first, so he kept quiet, just nodding at your words when you said something about how nice it was to see everyone happy for a change. Quickly he realized your fingers teasing his most sensitive spots was no accident.

He came to this conclusion when you slotted one of your thighs between his legs from behind them, pressing your thigh into his balls and pushing the length between his legs closer to your wandering hands, as you used one to wrap around it through his boxers and begin to squeeze lightly, using the other to simply pet and scratch at his thigh.

His abs clenched under the ministrations of your hand, his body jerking as his hands came to steady himself on the windowsill. "Oh, I know~" You cooed, "It's just so overwhelming seeing all these positive emotions from everyone huh?" You cooed, playing dumb as you watched from the corner of your eye as he clenched his jaw and squeezed his eyes shut, making no moves to stop what you were doing to him. "It just makes you feel so..good." You emphasized the last word by squeezing his cock tighter in your hand, making him breathe heavily out through his nose.

Choso whispered out your name, tilting his head ever so slightly to the side to crack his eyes open to look at you. "No, no, don't look at me baby, you need to take all this in~ it's such a rare sight after all." You said, nodding your chin up at him, signaling him to look back out at the people sitting on the lawn blankets. Choso felt a heat start to blossom in his pelvis the longer you groped him over his pants, he tried to keep his eyes open on the people outside, but the realization that he was doing something so filthy right in the open in front of all these innocent people was making him embarassed, averting his eyes.

"I'm going through all this trouble.." You started, sliding your hands out of his pockets as you slowly slid one under the band of his pants and boxers alike, the other sliding up his loose shirt to scratch over his abs and end up pinching his sensitive nipples. "..to give you this lovely view, it hurts my feelings that you aren't even looking." You said, faux hurt lacing your tone as you wined out the words. "I'm sorry," Choso replied under his breath, giving his crotch one last glance before he looked up and out the window.

"Yeah, good boy." Your words send blood rushing to his cock. His already hard member could do nothing but twitch as you finally wrapped your soft hand around his cock. The skin-on-skin contact felt words better than the groping over his clothes, but he still wasn't able to get over the embarrassment he was feeling. "This feels.." He started, opening and closing his mouth in a gasp.

"Good?" You finished for him, smiling as you rubbed your cheek into his back affectionately. He whined when you rubbed his tip around in your palm, focusing on just the head of his cock as you swirled and swirled your palm over it, his pre being rubbed over the head of his dick creating quiet squelching sounds under his clothes. If someone got too close they might be able to make the sounds out, ultimately giving you away.

"Embarrassing.." Choso corrected you, looking briefly at how Yuuji was interacting with his loving friends before averting his gaze to the trees. He didn't want Yuuji to see him like this, what would he think of him if he saw his older brother in this state? If anyone saw him in this state for that matter. "Hmm? It's embarrassing? Why?" You asked, pouting your lip at him. You stroked his warm cock faster, no longer focusing on just the tip as you stroked the entirety of his length up and down in his boxers. "W-what if someone sees?" His deep voice questions, making you hum in response.

You decide you're not done teasing him. "See's what?" You ask, playing coy. Choso's body jerked when your hand under his shirt started flicking his nipple rapidly, treating it like a clit. One of his hands came up to press over his mouth as he moaned shamelessly into it, the sound coming out muffled. His eyes rolled back in his head when you sped up your stroking on his dick; the combined stimulation was making his legs shake.

You pressed your knee harder against his balls, feeling his thighs squeeze around the appendage. The veins on his hands protruded out from under his pale skin, showing themselves off as he griped the windowsill for dear life. "What are they going to see, Choso?" You repeated, "Hmm?" The squelching from under his pants would now be noticeable to anyone within a 10-foot radius. He was dripping so much pre onto your hand it felt like he had cum already.

"U-us" He responded, the sound coming out muffled due to his hand covering his mouth. Choso's eyes flitted over to watch the group of people enjoying themselves on the lawn to make sure they still weren't looking before he quickly averted his eyes back to the vacant woods that surrounded the school. "What are we doing Choso?" You pushed him, feeling your own neediness start to become more apparent the more you teased him. He whimpered at your words, his nails digging into the wood of the delicate window's edge.

You abandoned the flicking on his nipples to slide your hand out of his shirt and grab his wrist, pulling it away from your mouth as you twisted it behind his back and held it in your own. "Y-ou jerking me o-off." He responded, a little too loudly. You don't actually know what you would do if someone caught the two of you. You doubted you would be fired, especially with how well-loved you were here, but the unknowing thrill sent a tingle down your spine, making your face heat up.

Although you couldnt find yourself to care all that much about the 'what ifs' when Choso was so obviously about to fall off the enge and into his orgasm. "Is that what I'm doing?" You whispered, your own breath picking up with his as his head tipped backa and his jaw fell open as gasps and moans fell freely into the empty hall. "I'm jerking you off right now? In front of everyone?" You continued. "If even one person looks in this direction, they'll see your fucked out expression through the window."

Your words were doing wonders on his body, his hand that was gripping the windowsill came to wrap around your wrist as you jerked him off vigorously under his pants. He wobbled on shaky legs, trying to keep himself upright as he felt his orgasm creep up on him. "Do you want that Choso? You want someone to watch me make you cum in your pants right now? Huh?" You moaned, kissing his back as you squeezed your hand holding his tighter in comfort.

"No-no Agh-" He groaned, shaking his head back and forth. "No?" You replied, putting more attention on his sensitive tip, you ran your thumb across the head on every swipe, making him gasp. "O-only you, I only want you to see me like th-is." He moaned. His shameless words made you feel hot all over, you swear your face was as red and flushed as the tip of his cock right now. "Yeah? Just for me baby?" You moaned, talking him up to his orgasm.

"Shit- g-gonna-" He wined, gripping your wrist that was jerking him off harder. This made it significantly harder to move your hand over him but you knew he couldn't help it. Fighting through the cramp you felt coming on, you jerked him steadily as his orgasm crashed over him. "Yeahhh~ Cum for me Cho~ Cum for me-" You encouraged. His body was wracked with tremors it was a miracle he stayed standing upright. You swore you could feel his balls twitch against your knee as rope after rope of his seed was released into his boxers.

He grunted into the open space, squeezing his eyes shut as he came into your hand. You continued stroking and praising him through his high, prolonging the already intense orgasm. When Choso felt his soul find his body once more, he took a deep breath into his lungs and sighed. Your stroking had slowed and eventually ceased when his hand released its hold on your wrist. You pulled soaked hand out from his boxers and held it out in front of him, relishing in the way your hand glistened under the lights.

Using your hand that was intertwined with his behind his back, you pulled on it and spun him around. You pressed your knee between his, softer this time, as you forced his ass back against the windowsill. Both of his large hands came to grip your wrists as he looked into your eyes with a flushed face, still breathing heavily. You placed one of your hands on his chest, and reached the other hand drenched in his cum up to his face, holding it out in front of his mouth.

"Clean up your mess for me, would you?" You asked sweetly, batting your eyelashes up at him as you tilted your head to the side. Begrudgingly, he opened up his mouth and stuck his tongue out, pressing the appendage against your warm skin, he licked the salty liquid up from your fingers and swallowed, cringing at the taste. He didn't understand how you always swallowed up his cum after giving him head like it was the most delicious thing in the world. "How do you taste baby?" You giggled, noticing his dismay as you pulled your hand away and licked the rest of his cum off, swallowing it yourself as you placed your hand against his solid chest, joining the other one.

"Bitter." He said, his face scrunching up in displeasure. You released a hearty laugh, leaning in to leave a short kiss against his lips. "You get used to it." You smiled at him. "You did so well for me Cho~" You cooed after a beat of admiring his post orgasm face. "Let's go get you cleaned up so we can get back to that picnic, I need at least 5 more of those cookies Shoko made." Choso smiled, nodding in agreement; Shoko made a mean cookie. Shifting uncomfortably between his feet feeling the wetness in his pants start to cool off, he let you hold his hand in your own, and drag him off to your room to get him some spare pants.

[wlntrsldler]

heartless | luke castellan

MDNI!!!!!!

fuckboy! luke (kinda) but also kind of loser!luke a little bit. enemies to lovers (more of sexual tension really); not canon, no betrayal, and pokes fun of aphrodite girls but yk i love them, this is just for the plot. ares!reader x luke castellan.

i. never need a bitch, i'm what a bitch need, tryna find the one that can fix me; i've been dodging death in the six-speed.

there were many things about being a half-blood that luke hated. having a deadbeat father ranks highly on the list, obviously, and the lack of exposure to the real world was up there, too. he ran away from camp once during the year when there weren’t many kids around. it was right after his eighteenth birthday when he thought that his life would magically change for the better now that he beat the odds (sue him for being hopeful), but when the clock hit midnight and he was still stuck on his cramped, cot in the corner of the hermes cabin, he decided enough was enough. 

he did his final cabin checks and left camp after, wandering aimlessly until he found the train station to take him straight to the city. he hopped over the turnstile and squeezed himself into the crowded subway car. the first thing that struck luke was how different each group of people was from each other. in one corner, there were businessmen in itchy suits, trying to check out the group of girls across from them, clearly dressed for a night out. luke scoffed at them, smirking to himself when one of the men flushed in embarrassment at the fact that luke caught him. 

what a fucking loser, luke thought. 

there was a girl around luke’s age, sneaking glances at him. she was pretty; blonde, pouty-lipped, and definitely interested. at this point, luke hadn’t been experienced. other than the aphrodite girls flirting with him and the occasional hazed and rushed makeout sessions during the campfires, luke hadn’t done anything with anyone. but if he can make the daughters of the goddess of love blush, surely it couldn’t be that difficult to make a mortal fall under his charm too. 

he was right. 

he shot her one of his signature smirks, feeling a sense of pride bloom in his chest when she had to grab onto the pole in front of her to keep steady. luke adjusted the navy sweater he had on, tugging on the collar a bit to show off a little skin. his silver necklace sat nicely on his neck and he watched subway girl’s eyes rake over his body. luke bit his bottom lip, motioning for the girl to take the empty seat beside him. her eyes widened, but she did what she was told. 

unfortunately, reality caught up with him quickly when a hellhound found him as he was exiting the subway car with the pretty girl (jessie? jane? janet? he doesn’t remember.) around his arm. luke castellan was a lot of things, but a killer wasn’t one of them, so he made some stupid excuse to the girl about why he had to leave just so he could keep her safe. (it killed him to do it. he’s a teenage boy. he has needs.) the girl walked away, upset, huffing to her friends about how he wasted her time and got her hopes up. luke just rolled his eyes and dislodged his small knife from his pocket sitting beside his half-smoked cigarette box, ready to take on the hellhound. 

“you couldn’t wait ‘til i at least got to second base?” luke cringed, partly at himself for talking to the hellhound like it could talk back to him. “had to show up right now, huh, buddy?” 

he received a growl in return. 

the fight wasn’t too terrible, but after the hellhound whimpered, walking away in defeat, luke was too tired to continue his exploration of the real world. he hopped on the train back to camp, clutching the scratch the hellhound left on him. his (only nice piece of clothing) navy sweater was ruined. the thread was falling apart where the hellhound dug its claws in and it was stained with his blood. he would’ve fought better and avoided the injury if his balls weren’t fucking blue. 

luke closed his eyes, breathing heavily. even though it was only for a few minutes, the idea of being a regular teenager, flirting with girls, going to clubs, drinking cheap tequila from a plastic bottle, was something luke yearned for. he only got to experience a fraction of it. he wanted to experience it more, preferably without testing death each time. 

the older kids heard of luke’s adventure when they saw the counselor walking into the apollo cabin the following morning to get his wounds treated. he made a note to never tell chris anything again because the boy couldn’t keep his mouth shut if he tried. by lunch, the entire camp, including chiron and mr. d, heard about luke’s unplanned visit to the city and his interaction with one of hades’ guards. 

“luke.” 

he turned around, eyebrows furrowed, then raised in surprise. in front of him were three aphrodite girls, pouting at him. he crossed his arms across his chest, smirking, “what’s up, gorgeous?” 

“heard you went looking for some fun last night.” 

“are we not good enough for you, luke?” 

“why would you go looking for better when you have the best right here in camp?” 

luke wanted to laugh. the aphrodite girls were always so bold with their words, but when it came down to the wire, they would never want to disappoint their mom by being with the golden boy-turned-teenage dirtbag. he respected it, though. their allegiance to their mom was admirable. if aphrodite was his godly parent and she gave him the power to always be attractive, he didn’t think he’d do anything to piss her off either. 

“why do you think i came back?” luke flirted, running a hand through his curls, “realized there was nobody like you.” 

the three girls blushed and giggled, even if none of them knew who his comment was actually directed toward. they waved goodbye to him, and he watched them walk away, admiring the view. 

“you’ve got to be fucking kidding me.” 

luke couldn’t stop his lips from quirking upwards at the sound of your voice, “what now, y/n?” 

you and luke had been at each other’s throats since you first got to camp half-blood. you, as the daughter of ares, one of his favorites coming only second to clarisse, pushed luke’s buttons like no other. you walked into camp and immediately saw through his boy-next-door facade and saw him for who he truly was. usually, luke would hate you for it, but now, it was hard for him not to think about shutting you up in other ways. less friendly ways, but if he had his ways, just as harsh. 

the rivalry began when you were fourteen. the title of best swordsman bounced between the two of you over the years. luke currently has the title, but it was only because he cheated; he swears he’s just better, but there’s no universe where you’d actually admit luke castellan was better than you at something. the five seconds between you being chosen to be head counselor for the ares cabin and him being chosen as the head counselor for the hermes cabin were the best five seconds of your life. it was the only time you held a higher position than him. 

luke quite enjoyed your little banter (when you weren’t around to ruin his game). it only got better when he had his huge growth spurt and you could no longer reach things when he held it up over his head. when you didn’t talk and run your mouth (usually cursing at him or cursing him), luke thought you might even be cute. he loved making you turn red, even if it was out of pure anger over his antics, but his favorite is when he gets you tongue-tied because his dirty, teenage brain makes him say something before he thinks.

“there’s no way that actually worked on them.” 

“take a look for yourself,” luke motioned to the group of girls who were now whispering and shooting heart eyes at him. “it always works.” 

“oh, get your head out your ass, castellan,” you spat. 

“spitting is not going to get you the reaction you might think,” luke smirked, eyeing you up and down. your eyes widened and you looked away from him to hide the redness of your cheeks. like that. luke licked his lips, “might actually have the opposite effect on me.” 

“you’re disgusting.” 

luke let out a full belly laugh as you walked away from him. sure, there were some pretty shitty things about camp half-blood, but there were some pretty great things there too, and messing with you is on the top of his list. 

ii. hundred models gettin' faded in the compound, tryna love me but they never get a pulse down.

“do you guys always fight like this?” 

you and luke peeled your eyes away from each other at the sound of percy’s voice. the poor boy was looking between his two mentors, torn because he had no idea who to listen to. you sighed, walking over to him. 

you placed a hand on his shoulder, “sorry, percy. luke is just… forget it, let’s just try it one more time, yeah?” 

“luke is just what?” luke asked, an eyebrow raised in a challenge. “finish your sentence, y/n. c’mon.” 

“the words i’d like to use wouldn’t be appropriate for a twelve-year-old to hear.” 

“‘m from new york, i probably heard it already,” percy shrugged, pausing. “come to think of it, i probably used it before.” 

luke let out a chuckle, patting percy on the back. “my man.” 

“can you not encourage cussing, head counselor?” 

“fine, i guess you’re just gonna have to tell me what you were going to say later. in private.” 

“castellan,” you smacked his chest. hard. you were furious with luke, but you couldn’t help but flush at his suggestive words, “don’t start.” 

percy frowned, “i don’t get it.” 

luke took mercy on you and wrapped an arm around the boy. he led percy away, promising to continue working on his sword skills later after capture the flag. before they disappeared from your view, luke made sure to turn around to shoot you a wink. you flipped him off in return. 

it wasn’t always like this between you and luke. once upon a time, your banters were innocent, like kids fighting over the last piece of candy in the jar. luke literally used to pull your hair when he was behind you in the line for food and you used to stick your foot out to trip him when he was playing tag with his siblings. 

but then, he returned from his quest. at first, you felt bad for him. he came back unable to complete it, and he was permanently scarred from it. it must’ve been difficult to have that constant reminder. after a few months, though, when his scar was almost fully healed, the whispers about how attractive luke castellan was started. luke closed himself off after his quest and spent his time doing extra training. you could lie and say that all the extra workouts didn’t do wonders for him, but nobody would believe you anyway. 

in short, luke castellan got hot. he was no longer the pesky little boy you bantered with. he got taller, broader, and dirtier. you weren’t dumb, you knew the innuendos that he would throw at you. you were in the same sex ed class as he was in. (side note: mr. d teaching teenagers about sex ed was your own personal version of hell. tartarus be damned.) somehow, luke turned into a teenage heartthrob at camp and all of a sudden, all the girls were throwing themselves at him. it made you sick, but what made you more sick, was that you understood why. 

ever since luke’s confidence skyrocketed and he leaned into his bad boy persona, there was a different charge in your banter; as if instead of trying to push your buttons, now, he was trying to get you under him. from blowing his cigarette smoke directly into your direction to all his dirty comments, luke castellan was acting like he wanted you. and surprisingly, you didn’t stop him. 

“can y’all just fuck already?” you spun around to find clarisse leaning against a tree, her spear mounted on the floor. she had a teasing smile on her lips, “maybe once you hate-fuck, you guys will get it out your systems.” 

“ew, castellan?” you sneered. your nose scrunched up in disgust, though your stomach churned at the thought of it. “never in a million years.” 

“dude, the sexual tension between you guys is insane,” she shrugged, walking over to you. “come on, sis, you can’t pretend like you don’t feel it.” 

“i feel a lot of things for luke castellan, but wanting to fuck him is not one of them.” 

you’re a liar. you knew that. clarisse knew that. but you’re thankful that your sister didn’t call you out on your bullshit. 

she laughed, “whatever you say. now, ready to train me?” 

you spun your sword around expertly, “always.” 

this week’s game of capture the flag was eventful. you lost, much to your dismay, but the results of the game were overshadowed by poseidon claiming percy as his kid. the subject of forbidden kids were a touchy subject, for obvious reasons, but you knew that it was especially hard for luke. you didn’t know thalia well, but with how often annabeth talked about her, you felt like you knew her. 

luke never talked about thalia, though. you figured it was because it was too painful for him to think about. he knew her longer than annabeth did and his memories of her were much more vivid than the young girl’s. with percy being poseidon’s kid, you knew that it was bound to bring up some unwanted memories for the hermes counselor. but what shocked you was seeing luke sitting with his siblings at the campfire instead of being surrounded by fawning girls like he usually was. whenever his team won, he would bask in the glory of the win, shotgunning smoke into the mouth of whoever was closest to him before disappearing for a bit only to come back with marks all over his neck. 

but tonight, he was sitting next to chris, a beer can in his hand, staring directly at you. the red cup in your hand filled with mysterious liquor was cold to the touch. clarisse was trying to hide the smile on her face as she watched you and luke lock eyes. she mumbled a fake excuse, running away to leave you alone while she tried to find silena. luke chugged the rest of his beer before crushing the can in his hand and walking over to you. 

you stood your ground, feet planted on the floor, with your arms folded across your chest. “no celebration tonight castellan?” 

“not unless you want to celebrate with me,” he replied. 

“shut the fuck up,” you sighed. 

luke watched as your arms pushed your tits up your chest. he couldn’t stop himself from biting his lip, watching your chest rise and fall as you took your breaths. he was almost tempted to burn his toast tomorrow morning just to thank the gods that you decided to wear a low-cut shirt tonight. your camp necklace was resting on top of your tits and he wanted to reach over and count the beads on your necklace. four, just one less than he has. 

“i love that you’re a sore loser,” he said, pulling out the cigarette that was tucked behind his ear. “makes it so easy to mess with you.” 

“‘m not a sore loser,” you argued, absentmindedly pulling out the lighter in your pocket. 

he was surprised by your actions. he knew you smoked, but you’d never smoked with him before. he pulled out a cigarette for you which you gladly took. you lit yours first then leaned over for him to light his own. luke shook his head, bringing up his index finger for you to come closer. he lit his cigarette with the burning end of yours, humming in appreciation when the nicotine hit his senses. 

“you are,” he blew out the smoke, “but it’s adorable.” 

“flirting with me isn’t gonna get you very far, castellan. you should know this by now.” 

“what, you want me to be mean to you?” luke said it teasingly, but then he saw your shoulders freeze for a millisecond. he chuckled, darkly, voice dropping an octave when he spoke again. “holy shit, you’re into that.” 

“none of your fucking business,” you shook your head, thankful that you had at least one substance already in your system to keep you from turning red. 

“it’s hot, y/n, own it,” he shrugged his shoulders, turning a bit to face the rest of the campers. all of the younger kids were off in their own world. they knew better than to hang out with the older kids at these things. he had a cocky smile on his face when he turned to you again, “i can be mean, if you want, y’know. just say the word.” 

you downed the drink, needing some sort of liquid courage if you were going to keep this conversation going. clarisse and silena were watching you and luke a few feet away and you can tell by their faces that they weren’t going to come save you from the conversation even if you begged them to. “that kind defeats the purpose, no?” 

“what do you mean?” 

you wiped the drop of liquor away from the corner of your lips, “having to ask you to be mean. you should just be mean without me asking.” 

luke’s eyes darkened. sure, he flirted with you, but you never kept up with him before. you usually tell him to fuck off and walk away, leaving him with a head full of images of your red, embarrassed face, to keep him occupied at night. “noted.” 

you shoved the empty cup into his chest, taking a puff out of your cigarette before walking away, “no need to take notes, castellan. i know you’re all talk anyway.” 

iii. 'cause i'm heartless and i'm back to my ways 'cause i'm heartless.

luke was pissed. you can tell by the way his shoulders were tense. you just disarmed him during practice, the tip of your sword resting comfortably under his jaw. the title was yours again. 

“say you surrender,” you taunted, pushing the sword just a little deeper on his skin, but not enough to cause any damage, “say you surrender and i’ll let you leave with some dignity.” 

“this doesn’t count,” he replied, tongue poking the inside of his cheek. “i was distracted.” 

and he was. you took your shirt off, leaving you in a sports bra, at around the third sparring session. the sun was beating down harshly on the both of you and the lack of a breeze in the air didn’t help. your chest was glistening with sweat and you were breathing heavily. luke took his eyes away from your moves for a second to look at your figure and you took advantage of it. 

“no excuses, castellan,” you lifted his face up with your sword, “surrender.” 

“fine,” he relented. he got up from his knees when you removed the sword from his jaw, “i surrender.” 

“good.” you twirled your sword in your hand, walking away from him to grab a sip of water. your back was turned and luke couldn’t help but let his eyes trail down the curve of your spine. your muscles were defined, no doubt due to the hours of sparring you just did, and your hair cascaded perfectly down when you pulled it out of the ponytail you had it in. he wanted to wrap it around his fist and pull it. 

“fuck,” he groaned, trying to push down his hardening cock in his cargo pants. the action didn’t do anything to help. it was no use. 

“what was that?” you tossed the bottle of water on the ground as you turned to face him. your eyes widened as you took in the image in front of you. luke was staring at you, lips slightly parted, hair in disarray as if he just ran his hand through it, and his pants were tight around his dick. “luke…” 

fuck it, he thought. 

“shut up.” 

luke marched over to you, grabbing your face with a force that knocked you off balance. it was disorienting feeling his lips hungrily over yours because it felt so damn good. his hands migrated from your face down to your ass, gripping it and massaging the flesh so he could push you closer to him. you could feel his hard cock poking against your skin and you moaned at the feeling. luke wanted to bottle the sound so he could listen to it whenever he wanted to. 

he pushed you against a tree, grinding his aching hips against yours. he could feel your wetness growing against his pants. he pulled away from your lips, turning your face to the side to give himself access to your neck. he licked a stripe up your jugular, mixing his saliva with the sweat on your skin. he started his attack on your neck, nipping, sucking, licking, everywhere he could. you couldn’t help but whimper at his actions. 

against your better judgment, you pulled him away by threading your fingers through his curls. his eyes were closed, mouth agape when he knocked his forehead against yours. you tugged on the hair by the nape of his neck, “you’re not fucking me, luke.” 

“fuck, okay,” he breathed out. he was horny, but he respected your wishes. 

“not today,” you placed a chaste kiss on his lips before pulling away. his lips followed yours, but you tutted, “but you can watch me if you let me watch you.” 

“yes,” his eyes snapped open, moving away from you to give you space. 

“come here,” you walked away from him, motioning him to come to the patch of grass secluded from the training area. he followed you, hissing as he tried to adjust himself in his pants. you lay on the grass, propping yourself up on your elbows. your hand slowly trailed down to your pants before you dipped your finger inside your underwear. your back arched as you felt how wet you were from the earlier interaction with luke. 

luke sat at your feet, undoing his pants. he pulled out his cock; red, dripping, and angry. he felt his confidence rise when you moaned at the sight of it. his veiny hand was wrapped at the base of his cock, slowly pumping. his voice was broken as he spoke, “let me see you.” 

for a moment, you were vulnerable, hesitating to expose everything to him. but luke’s face showed nothing but desire and you melted under his gaze. you shimmied out of your pants, tossing them somewhere near, before opening your legs for him to see you. your fingers pulled apart your folds, showing him your slick-covered pussy. 

“prettiest fucking pussy in the world,” he groaned, watching as you circled your clit. “fucking perfect, y/n.” 

his words spurred you on. you dipped two fingers inside, mewling at the stretch. luke flicked the tip of his dick, moaning at how your fingers disappeared as you pumped them inside you. he can hear your wetness loud and clear and he wanted nothing more than to slurp it up with his tongue, but he can be patient. this can be enough for now. 

his hand moved faster on his dick, the muscles on his arm tensing with each stroke. he watched as you threw your head back in pleasure, admiring the marks he left on your skin. a feeling of possessiveness bloomed in his chest knowing that he marked you. 

“want a taste?” 

luke nodded, crawling over to your outstretched fingers while still pumping his cock. his lips hollowed to suck off your juices from your fingers, eyes closing at the sweet taste. his tongue danced between your fingers, licking them clean. you watched in awe as he hungrily sucked off your fingers. there were beads of sweat trickling down the edge of his face, his curls were sticky on his forehead, and there was a look of pure bliss on his features. 

“so sweet,” he whispered, letting your fingers go with a pop. “fuck, y/n.” 

“luke,” you panted, continuing to get yourself off. “i’m close.” 

“give it to me,” he said. his voice was nearly gone. “need it.” 

there was something about luke castellan begging you to cum for him that made your head spin. you came, hard, all over your fingers while he watched you come undone. the image of you cumming, the whisper of his name leaving your lips, was going to be burned into his memory forever. 

“i’m coming,” luke groaned, the veins in his neck popping out as he gritted his teeth. “open up.” 

you moved closer to him, leaning down with your tongue out for him. he pumped his cock until white spurts covered your pink, patient tongue. he wanted to take a picture of you right now for later. eyes closed, makeup on your face ruined, hickeys on your neck on full display while his cum coated your tongue. you were a wet dream come to life. 

luke gripped blades of grass with his other hand, trying to steady himself as he watched you swallow his load. when you opened your eyes, you opened your mouth to show him you didn’t waste a drop, and luke couldn’t do anything else but kiss you to show his appreciation. 

you had avoided luke after your training session. you didn’t know what got into you doing that with him, but one thing was for sure, the tension didn’t disappear after it. it just got worse. 

everywhere you went, you felt his eyes following your every move. he would stare at you, eyes narrowed, during classes or during meals. but he never did anything. 

until he lost at capture the flag. you skipped the celebration, opting to stay alone in the ares cabin to avoid running into luke. the whole situation left you with so many questions that you were afraid to get the answer to. you fucked yourself in front of luke. and you liked it. there hasn’t been a day since when you didn’t think about his cock and how it would feel inside of you. it was getting pitiful how often you got off thinking about him. his sounds, his face when he came, his taste. everything. 

you were getting ready for bed when you heard the door of the ares cabin slam open. you turned your head, eyes widening, when you saw luke walking towards you, kicking the door shut. he didn’t break eye contact with you as he reached the foot of your bed. 

he licked his lips, “you’re avoiding me.” 

“i’m not,” you lied, tugging your blanket up to cover yourself. “was just too tired to celebrate.” 

“bullshit,” he ripped the blanket away from your body, “you want mean, right? i can give you mean.” 

you pushed your thighs together, making him smirk.

luke got on your bed, his knees on either side of you. he pushed his head into the crook of your neck, leaving rough kisses on your skin. your hands flew up to his hair, pulling softly, “my pretty girl won’t betray me.” 

it took you a minute to realize that he wasn’t talking about you. his fingers rubbed on your clit over your pajama shorts, making you arch into him. you whimpered, “luke, please.” 

“nuh uh,” he pulled away from your neck, “you don’t get to say please, anymore. you’re gonna take my dick until i’m done.” 

luke connected your lips. his lips were relentless against yours, tongue forcing its way into your mouth. he groaned at the feeling of your hand reaching down to palm him. he grinded his hips into your hand, lips sloppily crashing against yours. luke put all his weight on one arm, using the other one to lightly wrap his fingers around your throat. he did an experimental squeeze, growing harder when you moaned in pleasure at the pressure. 

clothes were flying off both of your bodies after that. your pants drowned out the faint hum of the campers away at the campfire. luke pulled away from your lips, marking your neck again. the hickeys he left you were already fading and he hated not seeing the remnants of his time with you on your skin. he trailed the hickeys down your body, spending extra time on your plush thighs. he pried your legs open, sighing in content when your pussy welcomed his thick fingers. 

he pressed his tongue against your folds, closing his eyes at the sounds of pleasure that left your lips. his lips wrapped around your bud, sucking, until you were lifting your hips up. he placed an arm across your stomach, pressing down on you to keep you still. from where you were lying, you could only see his eyes. his eyes were boring into yours, watching your reaction to learn what you liked. when his tongue darted inside of you, touching that spongy part, your face contorted in unparalleled pressure and luke knew that he needed to keep hitting that spot. 

you were a mess under him. you’ve never came before unless it was your own doing, but you were dangerously close to the edge with how luke was eating your pussy. he was determined to have your wetness coat his tongue. he’d been dreaming of tasting you since you last let him. he’d been craving it. 

when your thighs pressed against the side of his head, he knew it was coming. he used his thumb to draw figure eights on your clit. you came with a cry, his name repeating off your lips like a mantra, like a prayer. 

luke pulled away from your pussy, wiping the wetness on his chin away with his forearm. he pumped his cock in his hand a few times, hissing at the pain of it being forgotten. 

“luke,” you said, voice barely above a whisper. you clung onto him like a lifeline. “give me a second.” 

he took in your state. all fucked out just from his tongue. his jaw ticked, “been givin’ you space for days, don’t think you deserve any more.”

“fuck!” you cried as his dick entered you. luke had to shut his eyes to keep himself from cumming. your pussy was so tight and so wet and so greedy for his cock. he pushed all the way in, stopping for a moment to catch his breath. 

“perfect fucking pussy, like i said,” luke’s voice was hoarse as he thrusted into you. his hand grabbed one of your tits, flicking the hardened bud with his fingers. he continued to snap his hips into you as he leaned down to your ear, “been thinking about fucking you dumb with my cock.” 

“been-ah- thinking about it too,” you admitted, cheeks growing red at his words. you were clawing at his back, no doubt leaving marks, “been touching myself thinking about you.” 

“looks like you’re the one who’s all talk, y/n,” he was going faster now, reveling in the sounds that your connected bodies were making with each push of his cock. reminders of your first orgasm were all over his base. “made me watch you fuck your perfect pussy, then-fuck- avoiding me.” 

“didn’t think you were serious with your words.” 

luke pulled out of you completely. you got a good look at him for the first time. his nostrils were flared, chest heaving as he pumped his cock in his hand. he made a noise, “seems like i’m not doing my job right.” 

you reached out for him, pussy tightening around nothing, “huh?” 

“you’re still being smart,” luke grabbed your hips then and turned you around. you arched your back for him, giving him a view of your ass. he rubbed his hands over the flesh, slapping it. he pushed your head down on your pillow, wrapping your messy hair around his fist. he leaned over to whisper in your ear, “told you, i wanted to fuck you dumb on my cock.” 

he thrusted into you with fervor, skin slapping as he took you from behind. luke watched as your ass bounced sinfully against him as he pushed his cock deeper into you. with this angle, he can can push into you more easily. he was on his knees, holding your hips flush against his body. the sounds you were making as his cock found your pussy were delicious. 

you were incoherent then, mumbling into your pillow, begging for him to keep going. luke wasn’t planning on stopping anytime soon. when your second orgasm of the night came crashing down, you screamed luke’s name loudly. 

he came inside you, ropes of milky cum coating your gummy walls. he collapsed on top of you, breathing heavily as he moved your hair away to place kisses on your back. 

when you both got dressed, luke left a lingering kiss on your raw lips. he left one last hickey on the side of your jaw, “training. tomorrow. don’t be late.” 

[sinnersweets]

DogDay x Reader part 5

<----- part 4, part 6 ——->

A/N: 2k words this time! Enjoy!!

As I laid in bed, I couldn’t seem to get DogDay out of my thoughts. I knew today would be a hard day for him since Darla was leaving Playcare. To him it probably felt like his kid was being taken away from him. The longer I started to think about it the more I thought about myself in his position. Yes, I’ve only been working there for a week but already I have a close connection with Damian. As I thought of Damian, I turned on my phone to see my lock screen. I changed it to the picture I took of his drawing yesterday. I looked at the time and saw that I had extra time before my alarm went off for work. I decided to head to the store and pick out a card for DogDay. 

--------------- 

Sitting in the cable car I started writing a heartfelt message for DogDay until on the TV a cartoon started to play. Odd. Usually music would play but this time I guess they wanted to change it up. “S-M-I-L-E every day!” I watched as the intro to Smiling Critters played out. I haven’t seen any of the episodes, but Damian did tell me about the show. I smiled when DogDay appeared on screen. He looked just like his cartoon version but tall and life like.  

“DogDay says ‘When you see someone without a smile, give them one of yours!’” The screen went black as the cable car came to a stop. That was a cute cartoon. I tucked the card away and stepped out of the cable car and headed to my office. 

--------------- 

I opened my door and saw DogDay was laying down on his bed looking sad until he saw me and sat up with a smile on his face. “Angel!” I shut the door behind me and set my bag down onto my desk. “Morning DogDay. Did you sleep well?” I went over to him and gave him a hug around his neck. He rested his head on my body and sighed. “Not really Angel. Anytime a kid from my group gets adopted I always get so sad.” I moved one of my hands behind one of his ears and started to scratch him there.  

DogDays tail started to wag, and he started thumping his foot. "No need for sorrow, let joy appear, with your Angel near, all troubles disappear." I sang out to him. DogDay pulled away and looked at me with such awe. “Did my Angel just sing for me?” I laughed a little nervously. “Yes?” I was quickly brought into a hug and could see his tail wagging faster. “I can’t believe I had the pleasure of hearing my Angel sing for me! Hearing you sing has made me feel much better.” I hugged him around his neck and laughed. “I’m glad to hear that.” He brought me back down onto the ground but his face was pretty close to mine. “Could you sing for me again Angel?” “Tell you what, anytime you’re feeling down I’ll sing for you okay?” “Okay!”  

--------------- 

Me and DogDay oversaw decorating the outside of Home Sweet Home for Darla, so we started with streamers. I was on the roof while DogDay wrapped some streamers around the railing. “Be careful Angel.” I heard DogDay call out to me. “Relax, I used to climb onto roofs all the time when I was little to see the sunrise; I’m a pro.” I saw him chuckle and shake his head. We both went back to decorating. 

After a while the house was decked out with streamers and balloons. “Looks great Angel! Now come on down so we can head into the Playhouse for today.” DogDay held the ladder steady waiting for me. I started to slide down to the ladder but then heard a notification from my phone. I went to go check my phone but felt that my phone wasn’t in my pocket anymore. I looked around and saw that it was just a few feet in front of me. “Hang on I need to get my phone.” I scooted back up and reached over to my phone. I picked it up and turned it over to see the notification but instead saw a little spider on the screen. “AH!” I dropped my phone so fast and started to scoot backwards as fast as possible. In doing so I scooted all the way to the edge of the roof and slipped off. “I gotcha Angel!” DogDay pushed the ladder away barely catching me in time. The weight of my fall and him not expecting to catch me made him fall onto the ground while I landed right on top of him. 

DogDay groaned as he sat up and rested his front paws behind him. My face was buried into DogDays chest. Thankfully when he caught me his pendant moved out of the way. “Are you alright Angel? What happened?” I pushed myself off his chest but was still sitting on top of him. “I’m so sosososo sorry! There was a spider on my phone, and I hate spiders- and I freaked out but I’m so sorry! Are you alright?” “I’m fine Angel. Glad that I caught you.”  

“Woah- Am I interrupting something?” Me and DogDay both turned our heads to see KickenChicken grinning down on us. I saw how I was sitting on DogDay and blushed super hard. I quickly got off him and brushed myself off. “Nononono we were just um- putting up decorations for Darla!” DogDay got up after me and stepped in front of me a little. “KC why aren’t you with your group?” DogDay sounded cheerful but also a little annoyed that he was here. “Relax DD. I have extra time to spare and was making my way to the school until a phone out of nowhere smacks me on the head.” In his hand was my phone. “Oh gosh I’m so sorry about that KickenChicken. Thank you for picking it up.” I went to go reach for my phone, but DogDay had taken it from him. 

It was silent for a few seconds before KickenChicken spoke. “Didn’t mean to interrupt your guy’s...uh thing...Welp I’ll go ahead and take my leave.” KickenChicken started to walk away before turning his head back and saying, “See ya later, Angel.” As he walked away, I heard DogDay start to growl. I put my hand on his paw, and he stopped and looked down at me. “Hey what's wrong?” “Hearing him call you Angel...it sounded weird coming from him. I didn’t like that.” Was he jealous? I couldn’t help but smile at him. “Don’t worry, hearing him call me that doesn’t give me the same feeling as when you do it.” I immediately froze up after what just came out of my mouth. 

I saw DogDays ears perk up and he smiled at me. “What did you say Angel?” I know he heard me but I didn’t want to repeat myself. I started feeling my face grow warm. “N-nothing! Come on, let’s go!” DogDay laughed and handed me my phone back. I looked at it and thankfully there wasn’t a crack on the screen. However, when I turned on the screen, I saw that my lockscreen had changed from the drawing to KickenChicken. That motherfu- 

--------------- 

“Alright friends gather around!” DogDay called out to the kids in the Playhouse. “As you all know Darla will be leaving Playcare today and she has requested that we play her favorite game one last time.” I could tell that he was starting to get emotional, so I spoke out for him. “Darla has asked that we play ‘tug of war’ so get into your groups and get ready to play!” The kids all cheered out and went into groups of four.  

The first teams walked up to the rope and got into position. Damian was on one side while Darla was on the other. DogDay lined up the center of the rope and tied a yellow flag to it. “Ready and go!” Both teams started pulling with all their strength. “Come on Darla you got this!” DogDay yelled out. Darla nodded her head and pulled the rope even harder to her side, leading them into victory. Damians team seemed upset but not him. He gave a thumbs up to her and she returned the gesture.  

Everyone soon had a turn, and we were about to clean up until Darla spoke out saying that she wanted one last round; her and DogDay vs me and Damian. DogDay seemed to like this idea and so all four of us headed to the rope and got ourselves situated. DogDay and I were in the back with the rope wrapped around our waists while Darla and Damian were stationed in front. I already knew that me and Damian would lose because DogDay was the strongest one here, but I didn’t want to lose. “Get ready to lose Angel.” DogDay said teasingly. “Ha, like I’d let myself lose to you. Come on Damian, lets win!” 

The children all watched and cheered each of us on as the game had begun. DogDay was just standing there smiling at us. The only time he would pull the rope was when me and Damian got close to winning. The flag was about to cross onto our side when Damian yelled out “Ok now!” Both him and Darla had let go of the rope and jumped away which meant I was about to get yeeted onto DogDays side. DogDay saw this and smirked and pulled the rope hard making me come towards him. I slammed into his stomach. I heard the kids all laugh at this. I looked up at DogDay and he had the biggest grin on his face. “I win Angel.” Click! We both turned and saw that Damian had my phone and took a picture of us.  

--------------- 

I sighed and fell into my chair at my desk. The going away party for Darla had just finished and I was worn out today. I rubbed my eyes for a moment before hearing DogDay outside my door. “Can I come in Angel?” “Yes.” I said while yawning. DogDay entered and shut the door behind him before walking over to his bed and laying down. He had just seen Darla off with her family and I could tell he was sad. I grabbed the card I had gotten for him and made my way over to him. “Mind if I join you?” “Not at all Angel.” I then sat against his side and handed him the card. “Here, for you.” The card read, "To my dear DogDay; As Darla embarks on this new chapter of her life, I understand that her departure leaves a void in your heart. The bond you shared was special and filled with countless cherished moments. But as she finds a loving home and family to call her own, let us take solace in knowing that her journey is one of hope, love, and endless possibilities. While her absence may be felt keenly, remember that the love and friendship you offered her were immeasurable gifts. Your kindness and companionship made her days brighter, and your memories together will forever be etched in her heart. As Darla embraces her new beginnings, may you find comfort in knowing that you played a significant role in her life's journey. And as one door closes, may countless others open, filled with the joy of new friendships and shared adventures yet to come. With love and understanding, Angel.”  

DogDay didn’t say anything, but I knew he was grateful for my card. He then had tears form in the corner of his eyes. “I think I need your singing now Angel.” He said while chuckling. I got up and climbed on top of DogDay and leaned down and started to scratch his ears. DogDay sighed and closed his eyes while his tail slowly wagged. I started to sing a little song for him. After a while I could tell that DogDay had fallen asleep. I stayed on top of him and pulled out my phone. I changed my lockscreen back to Damians drawing and changed my home screen to the picture Damian took of me and DogDay after tug of war. In the picture DogDay had his arms around my waist and had a soft look on his face while smiling at me. I was also smiling back at him with a small blush. I then went to my camera roll and deleted KickenChickens picture.  

A/N: Idk why but it wouldn’t let me color KickenChickens part yellow. Anyways thank you for reading!!

[morbidlcve]

taking nat on an arcade date and miserably failing to impress her by winning her a plushie?

an: kinda switched to a sort of carnival thingy, i hope you don't mind!!

pairings: natasha x reader

word count: 0.8k!

"It will be fun", you groan at Natasha, who is reluctant to take you to the fair that has popped up in a nearby park. "Pretty please," you whimper, giving her a look you know she can't resist. "Fine," she sighs, "Only if it makes you happy" she says her eyes flickering back to the road. She turns on her indicator and steers left to find a parking space.

When parked safely, you jump out of the car and pull her to the stalls. Finding hook-a-duck, you grab some change from your pocket and pay the old man working the game. You had three chanced to hook a duck with a certain color painted on the bottom to win a prize.

Much to your dismay, you lost all three times, making you walk away sheepishly from the old man and the cable-tied plushies to the posts. Natasha smiled sadly at you, holding your hand and guiding you towards another game.

The next game was a basketball game, to win you had to shoot five nets in a row. You tried your hardest at throwing the ball into the hoops, yet on your 5th one it bounced and fell into the slope shaped net. You were determined to win the next one.

"You know, I'm completely convinced that these games just give you a run for your money, barely anyone wins, and if they do, I wouldn't even like to know how much money is spent", you complain to Natasha as she stands in a queue for a pretzel.

She smiles at your whining and kisses you. to make you feel better. "Why do you want to win so badly my love?" she asks you, stepping forward in the line. "I want to win you a prize" you mutter looking down at your feet kicking the grass lightly.

"Oh, babe, you don't have to do that. You're the best prize I could ever want," she smirks at you, and you gasp. "That is so cheesy, Romanoff."

You try more and more stalls and continue to fail miserably. You are so close to giving up. But when Natasha spots a throwing darts at balloons game, she's quick to pull you along. "Two separate games, please," she says to the woman, smiling kindly.

The woman gives you each five darts. If you are both able to pop all five of the same color balloons, you will both win. "I bet you can't beat me," she smiles. You think she's probably right; given her history, you're most definitely doomed.

You both throw. Natasha's dart lands on a blur balloon, meaning she's got to pop four more blue balloons, and yours lands on red. She pops another blue, and you pop another red. And the same again. You feel your heart start to get sweaty, two more reds are all you need.

You don't understand how nervous you are about a game. Might it just be your competition? This whole night has been quite a humiliation for you. Pulling Natasha along with you, watching you lose at these games for two hours, it's embarrassing. You're determined to win.

You take a steady breath, adjust your stance, focus on where you want the dart to go, and throw it. You squeal when you see it land on a red. Looking over at Natasha, you see her focused on the game but a small smile is tugging at her lips.

You look down at the floor, take another deep breath, wipe your hands on your t-shirt, and pick up the final dart. Your arm rocks back and forth, getting the right movement to throw it at your target.

A little boy behind you cheers you on, and you smile, letting the dart go. The little boy runs up to you to give you a high five when it lands on the red balloon. You grin when Natasha kisses you. "I knew you could do it," she sighs against you. Natasha's dart also got blue, so you tied realistically.

Natasha chose a teenage mutant ninja turtle plushie and gave it to the little boy still dancing around over your victory. Your heart melts as you see her interact with him. He wraps his flailing arms around her and spins, them two around. Natasha chuckles down at him and says her goodbyes.

You, on the other hand, chose something that was much more Natasha. When she sees you holding something behind your back, she raises her eyebrows. You giggle as you pull out a little black widow teddy.

Her jaw hands open before giggling, taking the miniature version of herself from your hands. "Thank you baby" she laughs, wrapping you in a hug. You gently kiss her neck as you two stand there, off to the side of all the festivity in each others arms. "I suppose we should go home now" she says, holding your face, pressing a gentle kiss on your lips.

"Yeah, probably", you smile, taking her hand and heading back to the car park.

[munson-blurbs]

Living After Midnight (Failed Rockstar!Eddie x Motel Worker!Reader)

♫ Summary: You once again found yourself face-to-face with Eddie not even twenty-four hours after he checked into the motel, and your interactions left you with more questions than answers. (3.8k words)

♫ CW: slowburn, strangers-to-lovers, angst, drug use, parental conflict, poverty, grumpy Eddie, eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI)

♫ Divider credit to @hellfire--cult

chapter two: here today

Bzzzzzz!

Your alarm clock blared its tinny ring at 1 PM. The sun was bright, a welcome change from yesterday’s overcast skies and steady rainfall.

You stretched as you awoke before shedding your oversized shirt and shorts, padding over to the shower and waiting a full five minutes for the cold water to turn lukewarm. The thinning bar of soap formed sad suds in your palm, and you lathered your skin as best as you could.

Despite your best efforts, you kept thinking about your encounter last night—that morning, really—with Eddie Munson. There was a cocky edge to him, evident by his initial refusal to put out his joint, but at least a shred of humanity; after all, he did eventually comply. There was even a semblance of…something that’d you’d shared in your brief interaction.

Or maybe it was just your imagination, the summation of your exhaustion and his high.

The towel scratched as you dried the water droplets from your bare skin, and though the cloth dampened, you could have sworn that it wasn’t wicking any moisture. Dad had been saying for years that he’ll invest in new linens “as soon as business picks up.” But business never picked up enough to do anything more than barely break even for the year, so the ancient towels stayed.

Picking the lint off of your purple T-shirt, you tucked it into your jeans and shoved your feet into your sneakers without bothering to unlace them first. One look in the mirror determined that you definitely needed makeup to look half-decent, or at least awake. There was no earthly way you would sacrifice a minute of precious sleep, so you swiped on some mascara in favor of an intricate routine and quickly fixed your hair. 

You plucked a granola bar from the stash on your dresser: your usual breakfast, tossed into your backpack as you headed out the door towards the lobby. The bus would be arriving in about five minutes, giving you just enough time to get to the stop before the doors closed. Barring any traffic, it followed a consistent schedule; one of the few certainties in life. 

“Hi Dad; bye Dad,” you called out, stopping in your tracks when you saw an obviously irritated Eddie standing in front of the desk, his arms crossed over his chest and his foot anxiously tapping. At least he was fully dressed this time, clad in a faded band t-shirt, ripped jeans, and the same denim jacket he was wearing last night when he’d first walked in. “Everything okay?” 

Dad motioned to Eddie. “Our guest is having some issues with his TV,” he said, his raised eyebrows indicating that the guest was being quite persistent about the matter. “Can you help him?” Before you could answer, he looked at Eddie and explained, “my daughter’s better with this technology stuff than I am.”

There was a temptation to argue that it was probably just a matter of smacking the side or replacing the remote batteries, but you didn’t have time to waste. “Yeah, sure,” you relented, turning to Eddie and waving him over. “Come on.”

Eddie waited to speak until the two of you were completely alone. “That was your dad?” 

You nodded, shoving your hands in your pockets and keeping your walking pace until you reached his room. 

“So what’s the problem?” you asked as he turned the key in the lock. It stuck for a moment before it fully unlatched, and he opened the door with a shove.

“The reception’s shit,” Eddie muttered, keeping his fingers splayed on the door so you could walk in first. “Every time I try to put on MTV, it’s all static. Tried it last night, too, but I figured it was because of the storm.” He gestured to the now-sunny skies. “But that shouldn’t be affecting it anymore.”

You offered a wry smile, the way you always did when delivering bad news to a guest. “Nothing’s wrong with the reception,” you explained, “there’s just no cable.”

“What?” His brows shot up in disbelief. “How is that even possible?”

“It’s simple.” You shrugged. “Cable costs money, we don’t have money; ergo, no cable.”

Eddie raked a hand through his messy curls. “You’ve gotta be fuckin’ kidding me.” His feet could have worn holes in the floor with the way he was pacing. “Where can I watch MTV around here? Like, is there a bar or something?”

“Yeah, I mean, there’s one right down the—” You turned to the window but stopped mid-sentence, your stomach sinking as you watched your bus fly past. You heaved a dejected sigh as tears prickled at your eyes embarrassingly, and you blinked them away. 

It’s okay; I haven’t been late at all this semester, you silently reminded yourself. You could take one of the dollar cabs that runs up and down Jamaica Avenue. It wouldn’t get you exactly where you needed to go, but it would be close enough.

Eddie remained oblivious to your inner turmoil, eyes trained on the TV. “Fuck,” he grumbled, sucking through his teeth. 

“The clock radio plays music,” you offered as you hiked your backpack higher up on your shoulder. “I know it’s not the same as watching videos, but–”

“It’s not about the stupid videos!” he snapped, curling his palm into a tight fist and biting down on his forefinger knuckle. Dark eyes exuded distress, and you couldn’t help but think that his sheer panic mismatched the problem’s minimal severity.

You recoiled at his sudden outburst and took an instinctive step back. He noticed this, his expression instantly softening. His hand unfurled and fell to his side. 

“Shit, I–”

“I’m gonna be late to class.” You composed yourself, straightening your posture and forcing yourself to meet his gaze. “But the bar is right on 144th and 89th.”

He sputtered as he searched for the right words to apologize and explain himself. If you had time, you’d wait for him to unscramble his thoughts, but you were already behind schedule now that your bus was long gone.

You strode across campus like you were on a mission, feet flying over the pavement. The cab had left you at another bus stop closer to school, and that bus had thankfully arrived on schedule. At this rate, you would only be ten minutes late to class. 

Sweat trickled down your back from midday sun’s warmth and your fast pace, but you kept walking until you reached the lecture hall’s double doors. This class was a smaller one, only twenty or so students, so there was no sneaking in unnoticed. 

You shot your professor an apologetic look that she accepted with a polite nod, sliding into your usual seat next to your friend Nora. 

“Is everything okay?” Nora whispered, moving her own bag from the chair. The concern on her face was palpable; if you weren’t able to make it to class, you would have called her. 

“Yeah, just stuff at the motel going haywire as usual,” you reassured her with a small smile, digging out your notebook and a pen. You flipped to the first blank page and scribbled today’s date next to the right-hand margin. “What did I miss?”

Nora shook her head as if to say, nothing. “She just gave back last week’s homework. I grabbed yours, too.” She handed you a sheet of paper with a bright red A+ on top. “I figured if something had happened to you, you could be buried with your most recent perfect paper.” 

She winked, and you rolled your eyes to mask your burgeoning pride. 

Truthfully, you’d worked hard on the assignment. You might have already been accepted to graduate school, but NYU’s prestige didn’t come without a hefty price tag, and you still needed to apply for scholarships in order to afford it. 

Now was not the time to slack. 

You tried to pay attention to the lecture, but your mind constantly drifted to the way Eddie had behaved in his room, having a meltdown like an overtired toddler. The man who had lost his temper over a television channel was starkly different from the one who had readily swapped playful jabs with you the night prior. 

Maybe whatever buzz he’d managed to acquire before you’d interrupted him had made him uncharacteristically pleasant, and today’s outburst was indicative of his true self. 

You bit the inside of your cheek and willed yourself to focus on the case study being presented on the board rather than your own personal Dr. Jekyll and Mr. Hyde. 

Try as you might, you couldn’t shake the mystery that was Eddie Munson. Guests had had their choice words with you before—there was a reason why you had pepper spray at the ready—but this felt different. When most guests screamed like he had, they were specifically angry at you; it was the reaction you had expected when you’d told Eddie that he couldn’t smoke pot in the motel. Others simply were not in their right minds and didn’t realize that they were shouting at a random woman and not their mom or childhood bully or the monster under the bed. 

Eddie differed from both categories in that he’d recognized his mistake. That he was frustrated at the situation, not at you. That he had started an apology that he might have finished If you had stuck around.

Or maybe he wouldn’t have. Maybe he would have continued yelling, face growing red with rage. Maybe he would have stopped his tantrum but stormed out to the bar without a second thought. 

You looked down at your notebook page, still blank except for the date. 

Maybe you should stop playing this game of what-ifs and actually listen to the lecture. 

After your professor handed out the rubric for the final paper and dismissed the class, you and Nora made a beeline for the food cart outside the building. Dining hall food was too expensive and bland; besides, Niko knew both of your orders by heart. 

He greeted you with a chipper smile as soon as you approached the cart. Bacon sizzled in its own fat, drowned out only by the sound of the chopper scraping against stainless steel as Niko scrambled the eggs.  

“Better enjoy this nice weather while it lasts,” he said, fuzzy gray brows pinching together. He grabbed two styrofoam cups from a stack and filled them with coffee. “Temperature’s s’posed to skyrocket this summer.”

You grimaced, pulling a few bills from your backpack’s front pouch. “If food service doesn’t work out for you, Niko, you should look into meteorology.”

He brushed off your sarcasm and adjusted his apron over his protruding belly. He added cream and sugar to the coffees and slid them towards you. “Been doin’ this a long time,” he said, gesturing to the food cart set-up. He took your four singles and handed you back two quarters, doing the same for Nora. “Longer than you two’ve been alive. And some things never change: you kids always have somethin’ smart to say.” 

Your mouth watered as he toasted the rolls and added a slice of American cheese to yours before combining the ingredients into hearty sandwiches. He carefully wrapped them in tinfoil and handed them over. 

You smiled, uncovered the sandwich, and took a hearty bite. Melty cheese oozed out from the roll and clung to your lip, and you collected it with the tip of your tongue. “At least we’re consistent,” you teased, waving goodbye as you and Nora walked to the bus stop. 

“What went down at the motel today?” Nora asked, chewing her food as she spoke. “I mean, I’ve seen you get to class early during a blizzard,” she added with a knowing grin. 

You remembered that day, February winds whipping around you and cutting through your layers of clothes like a knife. The snow stung your nose and cheeks and made it nearly impossible to see three feet ahead of you, but you’d made it to class before the professor had even arrived.

“Nothing really,” you tried to say nonchalantly, taking another bite of sandwich to keep your mouth busy. You don’t want to think about the way Eddie had raised his voice at you this afternoon; more specifically, the shame that tugged at you for being disappointed. You’d had one decent interaction with him and you’d foolishly assumed some kind of mutual respect had been built, but it all boiled down to the basics: he was a guest at the motel who would be checking out on Friday, and then you’d never see him again.

Nora wrinkled her nose, not quite believing you, but any further interrogation was interrupted by the bus squeaking to a stop. You dropped the five quarters into the tray before squeezing your way through the aisle.

“Just…” Nora dropped her voice to avoid drawing the ire of your fellow commuters, grabbing onto a pole to steady herself, “you didn’t need to break out the pepper spray or anything, right?” 

You gave her a grateful smile. “Nothing like that. I promise.”

“Good.” She reached over and gave your hand a small squeeze, careful not to brush up against anyone else. “Because I need my study buddy in one piece.” 

“I’m fi—” The bus lurched forward suddenly, the driver slamming on the brakes just as the yellow light turned red. You tightened your grip on the pole and planted your feet into the floor to keep your balance until coming to a complete stop. The other passengers grumbled and groaned as they shifted, leaving trails of mumbled sorry’s in their wake.

The Metropolitan Transit Authority would likely cause your demise well before any motel guest could get to you.  

It was barely after six PM when you got back to the motel. The sun began to creep down from its pedestal into purpling clouds and teased dusk’s beginning. Horns honked as rush hour traffic dragged along the expressway as though their cacophony would make the other cars evaporate into thin air. 

You had about four hours before your shift started; it was just enough time to work on the paper, take a quick nap, and boil water in your electric kettle to make some Cup Noodles. 

“Hey.”

You looked up to see Eddie leaning against the wall, a cigarette burning between his pointer and middle finger. It was freshly lit, but he still extinguished it under his foot before stepping closer to you. His brown eyes flickered from the ground to your face and back down again. 

“Hi.” Short but polite, your customer-service smile didn’t quite reach your eyes. You could see Mom through the glass door, leafing through paperwork that was almost certainly a stack of past-due bills. 

Eddie shoved his hands in his pockets, scuffing one Reeboked heel against the pavement. “I went to that bar you told me about.” He said it all in one breath as though he expected you to take off running. 

“Oh.” One corner of your mouth quirked up in a hesitant half-smile. “Did you, um, did you get to watch your show?”

He nodded, a forlorn look clouding his eyes. His right incisor dug into his lower lip. “Yeah. Thanks.” He paused, and you started for the door once again before he spoke up. “Sorry, I—you said you had a class today?” he asked, clumsily tripping over his words.

There was no sense in lying; not with your backpack hooked over your shoulders. “Mhm.” 

“Were you…” His tongue swiped nervously over his lips. “Did I make you late?”

You shook your head. “I got a dollar cab.” Not quite a lie, just omitting the truth. At this point, you were willing to let him smoke weed again if it’d result in easy conversation.

Eddie bit the inside of his cheek, head tilted slightly as he assessed your response. He seemingly accepted it at face value, exhaling a quiet, “that’s good,” and fumbling in his pocket for another cigarette. 

You took that as your cue to leave and ducked into the lobby to greet your mom with a quick wave. She returned it with a weary smile, eyes creased at the corners. The soft lines etched into her forehead had deepened over the past few months. The Reagan-Bush trickle-down economy era might have come to an end, but its remnants still affected small businesses and the even smaller people running them.

“How was class?”

“Good.” 

The usual exchange, no real information revealed. The mother-daughter song-and-dance performance of the ages. As long as neither of you disrupted the routine, the music played on.

Ten PM rolled around too quickly, and you plodded into the lobby with a stomach full of sodium-drenched noodles and your tote bag full of books. A street light flickered outside, more off than on, illuminating the sidewalk in a hazy glow every so often.

Mom handed over the register keys and placed a kiss on your cheek before she left to go to bed in the room she shared with Dad. Nighttime was the only time they got to be together uninterrupted, and it was spent sleeping.

That wasn’t what you wanted. When–if–you found somebody to share your life with, you wanted to have conversations with topics besides financial upkeep. You wanted to talk about meaningless topics and make each other laugh. You wanted to lay with your head on their lap, gazing into their eyes and revering in the beautiful silence. Nothing forced or planned. Just being.

You positioned yourself behind the desk, spreading your supplies in front of you. You’d managed to draft the opening paragraph for your essay before sleepiness overtook you and you’d had to nap, and your goal tonight was to revise it to perfection. The upcoming weekend would be spent at the public library, nose deeply buried in every psychology book they owned while you outlined the body.

Red pen marked up your page, commas added and removed three times over. Arrows shifted sentence order, while some sentences were altogether crossed out with heavy lines.

It was perfect. It was all wrong. You loved it. You hated it.  

Maybe I should scrap it altogether and start over. 

Your palm pressed to the notebook page, ready to tear it out and crumple it into a ball with jagged edges that would dig into your skin. 

“Hey.”

In your intense focus, you hadn’t even heard anyone walk in. A rookie mistake; somebody could have snuck up on you and you’d be none the wiser.

Eddie stood there, a folded one-dollar peering out from between his thumb and forefinger. He shuffled to the desk and held out the money, his eyes offering a silent apology. 

“I owe you for the, uh, cab,” he mumbled, lips forming a tight, nervous smile. “And don’t argue with me. I know my bullshit made you late, so…” He flitted his free hand as if dismissing potential concern.

You clicked your tongue in mock disapproval. “You’re not from New York City, are you?”

Eddie shook his head with a laugh, fingers scratching at a stubbled patch along his cheek. “How’d ya know?”

“A New York man knows better than to tell a New York woman not to argue with him,” you teased, capping your pen. “Also, you tried starting a conversation with me earlier, and any New Yorker knows that’s a cardinal sin.”

“Having a conversation?” 

“Making small talk with a stranger.”

His nose crinkled in adorable bewilderment as though the thought never occurred to him. “We’re not strangers. We met last night.”

The innocence of his remark drew a genuine laugh out of you. “I see the same people on the bus every day,” you told him, “and they’re still strangers. Being more than mildly aware of someone's existence doesn’t mean I know them.”

“Fair point,” Eddie conceded, leaning in slightly, “but I’d argue that we know each other’s names, so we’re not total strangers.”

Humming your acknowledgment–but not necessarily agreement–you plucked the dollar from his grasp and tucked it into your back pocket. “I’ll put this towards your bill.” 

“Oh, yeah. About that.” Eddie cleared his throat and shifted his weight from one foot to the other. “Are there any pawn shops around here that’ll buy a guitar?”

“No, sorry.” There had been one down the street but it had already been shuttered for a few years. Guests would go there all the time to hock whatever they could to pay for another night at the motel.   

He let out a long, disappointed sigh. “Shit. Okay.” The playfulness behind his eyes faded. “Um, thanks anyway.”

He turned away from the desk, shoulders slumped. You knew that look all too well; it was the stance of someone who just needed life to cut them a break.

“Eddie?”

He swiveled back around, his curls a half-second behind. “Yeah?”

“Do you know how to re-wallpaper a room?”

“Huh?” Your question caught him by surprise, and he took a moment to collect himself. “I mean, yeah, kind of. I did it for my uncle’s trailer once. But I’m not, like, a professional.”

You smiled. “No professional experience necessary.” You gestured to the various spots on the wall where the paper was cracked and peeled. “If you can make this look presentable, you can stay a few more days. Free of charge.”

His expression immediately darkened, eyes narrowing and crossed arms closing off his body. “I don’t need charity,” he asserted through a tensed jaw.

“It’s not charity; it’s a favor.” The harsh reaction caught you off-guard, but you refused to let him unsettle you again. “Look around: do you really think we can afford to hire someone to install new wallpaper?” 

You didn’t bother to wait for his response before continuing. “We need to fix this place up, and you need a roof over your head.” Shrugging casually, you held onto the hope that he would also view this as a mutually beneficial offer and not a pity handout.

Eddie just scoffed, a rejection in itself, compounded with a growling reprise: “I said, I don’t need charity.” 

Spikes jutted out from his words and pinched your skin, each one a reminder of your uncanny ability to worsen every problem you tried to solve. 

Offering a job to someone you barely knew? He gave you a buck to pay for the cab you only had to take because of him—not exactly the best character statement. The man could be a serial killer who preys on low-budget motel owners and you’d be none the wiser, signing his checks like you weren’t his next victim. 

Maybe next week, you could hire Ted Bundy to change bed linens. 

“Understood.”

He looked at you so intensely his pupils should have bored a hole right through you. Behind his eyes wasn’t an ounce of hate or even anger. 

It was raw shame. 

I’m sorry got caught in your throat and didn’t reach your tongue until he had disappeared back down the hall, out of sight. 

--

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[rafeyscurtainbangs]

Relax, Sweetness - JJ Blurb

+18 Minor DNI

JJ x GF!Reader

⭐ republished ⭐

+18 Minor DNI

🪄 Warnings: smut, language, pet names, gunplay, cum tasting, brief unprotected p in v

📖 JJ enlists his girlfriend (reader) for a little help christening his gun.

✨ “You don’t trust me?” He gives you a crooked smile, lifting the gun up to his head, pulling the trigger. You hear the clinking of metal on metal making you gasp. “So… We good? You gonna help me, angel girl?” ✨

700 words

Reader’s POV:

“Don’t you think it’s a little much, Jayj? Do you really need a gun?” You ask wearily, cocking an eyebrow at your boyfriend who’s a little too excited about his new gun as he moves around his room stealthily, aiming at invisible bad guys as you continue to read your book.

“‘Course I do, princess.” He gives you a smirk, cigarette dangling from his lips, nothing but some white boxers on his tanned body.

“Why though?”

“Protection, doll. Think of it like a condom. Yeah? Ya keep it in your pocket, just in case. Wouldn’t wanna risk not having one of those. Same shit,” he chuckles raspily; twirling the gun around his finger.

“Is it loaded?” You whisper.

“Nah… Used all the bullets up this afternoon.”

“Doing what, JJ?”

“Shootin’ stuff.”

“Like…”

“Cans, mom. I was shooting cans with Pope, alright? What are you so worried about?” He chuckles as he saunters your way, ashing his cigarette out on your metal bed frame. He turns his hat backward as he leans in a little closer, giving you a sweet kiss. “I know what you’re gonna say-”

“You, Jayj. M’worried about you. Why would you all of a sudden need a gun?”

“I’ve always needed a gun,” he mumbles. “And, could you stop bringin’ down the room? It’s fine. It’s fine. Alright? Nothin’ to worry about. Papa J is safe. Even safer now. One regret, though… One big ole regret. Never got to christen this thing.”

“Christen your gun… How do you do that?” You ask, apprehensively.

“With good pussy,” he chuckles, his response making your heart race as you puzzle together what he wants to do with your help.

“It’s not loaded… Like – Are you sure?” You ask weakly, feeling a steady pulse between your thighs, terrified but excited all at the same breath.

“You don’t trust me?” He gives you a crooked smile, lifting the gun up to his head, pulling the trigger. You hear the clinking of metal on metal making you gasp. “So… We good? You gonna help me, angel girl?”

“Yeah-” He pushes you back on the mattress, flipping your skirt before you can change your mind. JJ loops his fingers around the string of your panties, tugging them away.

You feel the chill of the metal against your warm skin as JJ traces the gun higher and higher. Goosebumps spread across your body as he reaches your inner thigh, making you draw in slightly. “Relax, sweetness. You’re safe. Alright?” He mumbles as he crawls a little closer.

“Fuckkk,” he moans as the gun hits your slick, gliding through your folds. He plays a little more, collecting your essence on the muzzle. JJ swirls the tip gently on your clit, watching as you whimper and moan below him. Your eyes widen as he moves lower, assuming what’s to come.

“Uh – Jayj? I… Um,” you stammer as you prop yourself up on your elbows.

“My cock’s bigger,” he rasps, giving you a little wink before pressing it inside, making you toss your head back.

“Shit, JJ,” you gasp.

“My girl likes it. Huh?” He lowers himself to your lips as he strokes nice and slow. Your tongue greets his, reeling as he swallows moan after moan.

You feel him draw it out completely, eyeing the weapon glazed with your wetness. “Beautiful,” he groans. “For you.” He extends it your way, your hand trembles as you take it off his. JJ rolls to his back, working his boxers off his hips, tossing them to the side. “Co’mere, darlin’,” he drawls.

You hover over his rock-hard cock, gun clasped in your other hand. “Now what, Jayj?” You smile. He clasps your hips, lowering you slowly down on his length until you’re fully sat.

“Look at you,” he praises. His baby blues brimming with lust. “Fuck. You look good.” JJ’s hands rest on the fullness of your hips, looking at you hungrily as his tongue glides along his bottom lip. “Let me taste it.”

“Jayj…”

“C’mon,” his lips part ever so slightly. The gun passing his lips. JJ sucks off your slick, eyes rolling back as a deep moan rumbles in his chest. His eyes flutter shut, sucking all the way back to the tip. “So fuckin’ sweet,” he groans as you rest the piece down on the comforter. He smacks your ass roughly, soothing the sting with his heavy hands as he grips your ass. “That’s how it’s done, baby.” JJ reaches up, wrapping his hand around the back of your neck, towing you close. “How’d that feel?” He whispers as his lips graze yours slowly.

“Good,” you giggle breathily, still riding an indescribable high. You start to wind your hips, grinding on his cock as he smiles against your lips.

“Just another reason I needed that gun, Princess.”

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[bossbtch1]

Against All Odds part 2

The GIFs are not mine; credit goes to the respective artist/creator.

Summary : After the ‘incident’ on the gym with Bucky, now you had left with some unanswered questions about your relationship with him. You decided to confront him about it.

Pairing : Bucky Barnes x Reader (No mentions of body type or ethnicity other than the reader being female)

General tags : Slight smut and pure angst

TW: Strong language, Masturbation (f), Hurt, Heavy angst, Bucky an asshole

Word Count: 7k

A/N : Hey there! Guess who's back? This is the long-awaited Part 2. My apologies for the delay; I've revised the plot about three times to ensure its genuinely angsty. It's about to get tougher before it gets better! Get ready for the emotional rollercoaster!

Part 1 , Part 2 , Part 3

If you like my story, please go check out my other stories here

These are the aesthetic for part 2 (solely for visual representation of what going to happen on the story, this meant no representation for body type or ethnicity)

You were panicking as someone could see you in such state, strangely, Bucky seemed unfazed, his expression steady despite the unexpected interruption. Then, your heart skipped a beat as the doorknob turned.

The person outside attempted to open the door, but they couldn’t. Relief flooded you, thank God Bucky had locked the door. "Is someone in here? You know you can’t lock the door," the voice outside the room chastised, followed by insistent knocks.

"Fuck." Bucky muttered, frustration etched on his face. "Who's interrupting us now?" He released you from his embrace, standing up abruptly. "We need to leave." His hand found yours, offering support as he helped you to your feet.

Your legs felt wobbly, but Bucky steadied you as he handed over your clothes. "Here," he said, helping you slip into them. "Put these on."

Bucky was about to pulled up his pants, when he saw your panties in his hand. A mischievous smile formed on his lips. "Hold still."

Confused, you questioned, "What are you doing?"

He playfully stuffed your panties into his pocket. "I'm keeping these as a little souvenir."

"You can't just take those!" you protested, your face flushing with embarrassment.

Bucky simply shrugged, his expression unapologetic. "Sure, I can," he said, enjoying the playful banter despite the urgency of the situation.

Before you could retort, the voice from outside grew more impatient. "Hey! I can hear you in there. I'm coming in if you don't answer me," it warned, the threat clear in its tone.

Bucky's expression changed, growing serious as the sound of keys jiggling reached his ears. With a swift nod, you both understood it was time to make your escape.

"We have to go. Now." He said, ushering you towards the other exit, his arm protectively wrapping around you. "Just keep quiet."

You finished putting your clothes back on. Bucky held onto you as he walked across the room, looking for your shoes. You were about to put on your shoes, when you heard the same person call out. You could hear he was picking keys to opened the door.  

Bucky glanced over at the door. "He’s going see us. We should go."

But you halted his hasty retreat, pulling him back toward you. "Bucky, wait," you said, you blushed. "I don't think I can walk." You admitted.

He grinned, a look of pure male satisfaction on his face. "Here hop on," he turned his back to you. "I'll give you a piggyback ride."

"What? No, that's embarrassing." you protested, even though you really did need help walking.  You felt stupid for feeling so excited, but the thought of being carried by him, made your stomach flutter.

Bucky was persistent. "C'mon, I’ll carry you." he motioned for you to climb onto his back.

"Bucky... I don’t know...," You argued, blushing as you looked down at the ground.

"Oh, please." Bucky scoffed. "I can bench press 500 pounds without breaking a sweat. You weigh nothing to me." He reassured you, his arms outstretched as he bent down.

"Fine," you gave in. You wrapped your arms around his neck and hopped onto his back. Bucky hoisted you up, wrapping his hands underneath your thighs.  "This is kind of weird."

"You better hold on tight." He grabbed your shoes with him and went to the back door. "Ready?"

“Yeah.” You tightened your arms around him.

Then you remember, "Wait! I haven't got my phone. It's still on the floor." You protested.

Bucky groaned in exasperation. "You know, that's what's going to get us caught."

"Yes, but then they’ll know it was me in here. Turn around and grab my phone.” You ordered him. He did as you told him even though he wasn’t happy about it, gabbing your phone from the floor.

Bucky started walking towards the door. The sound of keys were being turned, it looked like he found the key. "Hurry, Buck!" You said to him.

"Don't worry, I'll get us out of here."

He pushed the door open and stepped out. You had made it halfway through the alleyway when you saw someone coming. "Shit, run."

Bucky bolted down the alley, with you holding onto him. You both were safe until you reached the elevator, and then you could relax. Once you inside the elevator, Bucky kept you perched on his back. He refused to let you go until the doors closed.

Are we good now?" you asked, your voice still tinged with the adrenaline from the escape.

"Yes," Bucky answered. "We're good now."

"You can put me down now, Bucky." You suggested.

"You sure?" He looked back at you. "You're not as heavy as I thought." 

"Gee, thanks," you muttered sarcastically, rolling your eyes at his attempt to lighten the mood.

He chuckled softly as he carefully lowered you to the ground. You reached up and felt how your hair had become all tangled. Your lips were swollen from his kisses. And you couldn't even begin to imagine what your eyes looked like.

"Thanks for the ride," you said, a weary smile gracing your lips as you recalled the unconventional piggyback escape.

"Anytime, doll," Bucky responded with a hint of amusement, his relief palpable.

You smoothed out your clothes and fixed your hair. You leaned against the wall, catching your breath.

"Hey," Bucky said, his voice softening as he placed a hand on your shoulder, his eyes searching yours. "Are you okay?"

You offered a reassuring smile. "Yeah, I'm fine." However, curiosity crept into your voice, "But earlier, when we were... interrupted. Who was it?"

Bucky hesitated before admitting, "No one, I was just messing with you."

A wave of relief washed over you upon hearing his words. You  stood next to each other, neither one of you saying a word. The air between you was heavy, but not uncomfortably so. You were glad you had finally slept with him. You had wanted it for a while now, but he was so hard to read.

You wondered what happened now. Would things be awkward between the two of you? Would he pretend like nothing happened?

You were about to break the silence when the elevator door slid open, interrupting your thoughts.

"After you," Bucky said, offering a gallant gesture, indicating for you to exit first.

"Thank you," you replied, stepping out of the elevator. Bucky followed you, and you both began your walk down the corridor in the direction of your room.

In the midst of the silence, Bucky took a deep breath, as if mustering the words he wanted to say. "Listen, Y/N."

You turned to him. "Yes?" you responded, ready for the conversation you knew was coming.

However, as Bucky was about to speak, Steve entered the compound, heading down the same hallway toward both of you. A twinge of frustration shot through you as you silently cursed Steve for his untimely intrusion, just when the conversation appeared ready to take a more serious turn.

You couldn't help but wonder, 'What is he doing here?' as your irritation simmered beneath the surface.

"Y/N, about—" Bucky started again, his words cut off as you held up a hand.

"Hold that thought," you interrupted him, your gaze fixated down the hall where Steve was approaching.

"What's wrong?"

"Steve's coming," you replied, your irritation evident. The interruption was untimely, and you couldn't help but feel a pang of annoyance at the universe's sense of timing.

Bucky followed your gaze, and his face fell as soon as he saw his friend. "Fuck," he cursed under his breath.

You both watched as Steve drew nearer, his pace slowing down as he approached you and Bucky. "Hi, Buck," Steve greeted his friend, patting him on the shoulder. His eyes narrowed in suspicion as he glanced over at you, then back at Bucky. “I thought you left hours ago."

"I did, but I had some stuff to take care of," Bucky replied swiftly, his expression unreadable. You sensed an immediate shift in Bucky's demeanor, a return to his cold, distant self in the presence of his friend.

You were about to question Steve's unexpected presence, considering he was supposed to be on a mission with the rest of the team. However, Bucky voiced the query before you could. "Has the mission ended? Where’s everyone?"

Steve nodded, his expression serious. "It hasn't, but I had to drop something off, and I'll be heading out again soon," he explained. "Mostly things had been wrapped up, just one last loose end."

"Alright, good to hear," Bucky said, acknowledging the update.

Steve's brows knitted together, his lips curving into a frown. "You look a little disheveled. What were you doing?" he asked, his suspicion evident in his tone.

"We were training," you chimed in, your voice steady, a lie slipping from your lips without hesitation. The lie rolled off your tongue with ease, and technically, it wasn't entirely false – you and Bucky had indeed been ‘sparring’ earlier.

"Oh, I see." Steve nodded, seeming satisfied with your explanation. "I'm glad you're getting some one-on-one time.”

"It was a pretty intense session," Bucky replied, his tone flat, his eyes avoiding Steve's scrutinizing gaze. You couldn't help but conceal a smile; indeed, it had been an incredibly intense workout, but not in the way Steve was imagining.

Steve raised an eyebrow, his curiosity piqued. "Well, alright. As long as it was a good workout," he said, his tone carrying a hint of suspicion, although he ultimately seemed to dismiss his concerns, not pressing further.

Steve then turned his attention to you, his expression laden with guilt. "Y/N, about the mission..." He hesitated, clearly burdened by a sense of responsibility, though you knew all too well there was nothing he could have done differently.

Your patience wore thin, not this again, you thought, feeling your mood sour. "It's okay, Steve," you said, your tone carrying a hint of annoyance. "I know it wasn't your fault."

Steve managed a smile, though the unease lingered in his eyes. "Thanks, but I still feel responsible."

"Drop it, Steve. It really wasn't your fault," you insisted, your tone firm.

Sensing the conversation wasn't going anywhere productive, you decided to retreat to your room, especially now that Bucky seemed to have reverted to his usual self and showed no intention of continuing the discussion you'd been having.

"Well, I guess I should get going. See ya later," you said, offering a half-hearted wave before making your exit. As you walked away, a sense of disappointment settled in your chest.

You could barely walk, your thighs aching as you began to walked away. Unbeknownst to you, Steve's eyes followed your limping form, "What the hell happened to her?" he wondered aloud, his concern evident. You blushed deeply, hastening your pace in an attempt to avoid further scrutiny.

Overhearing Steve's question, Bucky replied, his tone nonchalant, "Don't know."

Once you made it to your room, you sighed in relief as you closed the door behind you. You flopped down on the bed, burying your face in the pillow.

"I can't believe we just had sex in the gym," you mumbled to yourself, your voice muffled by the soft fabric of the pillow. Replaying the events in your head, you couldn't help but wonder about Bucky's behavior. "Why does he act differently around the team and then like this with me? What's his problem? Does he want me, or does he not want to be seen with me? Is he ashamed of me?"

You're worried that the whole "fuck and don't talk" thing is going to be the new thing. You couldn't help but wish it wouldn't happened in the future. It was great sex, but it would be even greater if there were actual feelings involved.

"What do I do?" You asked the pillow, knowing the inanimate object wouldn't respond. Exhausted from both the training session and your ‘sparring’ with Bucky was tiring you even more, you decided to take a nap, planning to contemplate your next steps once you had some rest.

The nap was short-lived when a soft knock echoed through the room. You rolled over in bed, and then you heard, "Y/N, are you asleep?" Wanda's gentle voice seeped through the door, causing you to frown as you sat up.

Recognizing it was Wanda, you got up from your bed and opened the door. "Oh, sorry, you were indeed asleep," she remarked, noticing your hair messed up. "I apologize for waking you up."

"I wanted your help," she said, her fingers fidgeting as she sat on the edge of your bed. "Vision's birthday is in two days," she explained, leaving you wondering how this concerned you. "And I want to give him something nice."

You let her finish, nodding in understanding. "I want to buy him this present, but I'm embarrassed," she whispered, her voice barely audible.

You furrowed your brow, trying to grasp her dilemma. "Embarrassed?" you prodded, waiting for her to elaborate.

"I've never been to a sex store, I've never bought... you know... that sort of thing before. I thought if you could help me, it would be a bit less awkward," Wanda confessed, her cheeks flushing with embarrassment.

You were taken aback by her request, feeling both bewildered and unsure how to respond. "A sex store?"

She blushed deeper, her words tumbling out in a rush, "Well, Vision and I have been experimenting, and we've tried a lot of things. There's something new I want to try-"

"Wait, wait, wait," you interrupted, raising your hand to stop her. "I don't want to know any details.” You put a hand on her shoulder. "What you do with Vis is your business, and I'm glad that you're both happy."

You continued, your confusion apparent, "Wanda, why are you asking me to help you? Why don't you ask Natasha?" You hesitated, admitting your own unease about the situation. The idea of going to a sex store was equally embarrassing to you.

"I trust you," Wanda said earnestly. "I love Natasha, but sometimes she's too wild, you know? She'd probably buy me something that would end up on the Pornhub." Her reasoning made sense, and you recalled Natasha's tendency to be overly candid about her sex life.

"Besides," she added, "Natasha's on a mission, and she won't be back in time. By the time she and Vision return, it'll be too late." Her plea was both desperate and hopeful, and you couldn't help but empathize with her situation.

"Why can't you just go alone?” You inquired, trying to grasp her hesitation.

"It’s too embarrassing.” Wanda admitted, her eyes dropping to her lap. "People recognize me, and I'm worried about what they'll say, what they'll think." She hesitated before continuing, "I mean, people don't recognize you."

Ouch that hurt, but you knew what she meant.

Wanda quickly realized her blunder. "Y/N, I'm so, so sorry. I-I didn't mean it like that. You had a mask with your costume, and your name is a secret, so... I'm just nervous. I'm sorry," she apologized, her tone filled with regret.

You chuckled, attempting to lighten the mood. "It's fine, I get what you mean," you reassured her, rubbing the back of your neck. "I don't like the idea of people recognizing me either."

There was a brief pause as you considered her request. "Um... I don't know, Wanda. It's not really my area," you said, hesitant about getting involved in such a personal matter.

"Please, Y/N. It would really mean a lot to me. I'm nervous about going by myself. I've never bought these kinds of things," Wanda pleaded.

You were about to decline her request when she dropped a bombshell. "I wasn't going to use this on you, but you leave me no choice," she said, her tone taking a sly turn.

"Uh, okay? What did you see?" you asked, frowning in confusion.

"You and Bucky," she smirked, her eyes twinkling mischievously. "I know all about the secret affair."

Your heart skipped a beat as you heard her words. Trying to maintain your composure, you feigned innocence. "What secret affair?" you responded, your cheeks burning with embarrassment.

Wanda continued to wear that knowing smirk. "I saw you and Bucky in the gym," she added, not letting you off the hook.

You swallowed hard, feeling your pulse quicken. "Oh, we were just sparring," you said, attempting to provide a reasonable explanation, though your voice sounded weaker than you had hoped.

Wanda gave you a look that said, 'Yeah, right.' "Sure, you were.” She continued to smirk, “If by mean sparring involving his tongue down your throat and his dick in you.”

Your eyes widened, and you stammered, "Wh-what?” Trying to play it off coolly, you added, “You must be mistaken. We didn't..."

Wanda chuckled, her amusement evident. “Don't lie to me. Bucky's eyes met mine." She teased, her playful demeanor breaking the tension in the room. She continued, "and you, my friend, looked so fucking hot."

You blushed harder, but you felt a bit proud, "Well, you can't blame me. Bucky's so hot and so damn sexy, he can make any girl go weak in the knees."

You shook your head, trying to clear your thoughts, focusing on the more pressing issue at hand. "But seriously, how did you see us? Why aren't you on the mission? But Bucky said no one else entered the gym today." A flicker of confusion crossed your face as you recalled the locked door. "How did you even get in?"

Wanda chuckled, her amusement undeniably genuine. "Relax, you're like a storm of questions. Let me break it down for you." She leaned in conspiratorially, her eyes glinting with mischief. "First, the mission? Turns out, I'm a bit too unpredictable for Tony's taste. He thinks my powers might mess up the plan. So, here I am, stuck in the compound."

You couldn't help but raise an eyebrow at Tony Stark's cautious approach. Your sympathy for her situation grew.

"And about the gym door," she continued, her tone casual, "well, that's where my power come in handy. I can open any door with a wave of my hand and step right in, undetected."

"I'm sorry," you said sincerely. "About the mission, I mean. I couldn't go either. Maybe that makes you feel a bit better."

Wanda offered you a warm and forgiving smile. "No need to apologize," she said, dismissing your apology with a wave of her hand. Leaning in closer, her tone took on a mischievous edge. "Now, let me continue," she said with a sly grin. "I was getting ready for my gym session earlier, and then I heard some interesting sounds coming from this room. I peeked in, saw you and Bucky having a heated argument, and I was about to step in."

You squirmed in your seat, mortified by her revelation.

Wanda continued with a sly grin, relishing the opportunity to tease you. "And then... he kissed you," she said, her voice dropping to a conspiratorial whisper, "and I instantly knew things were about to get intense. It was quite the show by the way,"

Your face turned various shades of red as you tried to process her unexpected presence during such an intimate moment.

She chuckled, her tone playful. "But here's the kicker, after Bucky noticed me, he didn't bother slowing down. He kept on kissing into you, while he was looking at me. That's when I decided it was my cue to make a graceful exit.”  

You were taken aback by that revelation. "Wait so you only saw us kissing? You didn't see what happened next?" you asked.

Wanda raised an eyebrow and nodded. "That's right, just the kissing. But the way you were moaning, I had a pretty good idea of where things were headed."

You hid your face in your hands, unable to shake the embarrassment that had washed over you. "Wanda, you witch!" She was playing you so good. She was just guessing about it. If you played it cool, maybe you could salvage the situation. After all, Wanda didn't know the extent of your involvement with Bucky.

"What? Am I wrong?" she said, grinning slyly.

"Maybe?"

"Liar, I know I'm not." She said. “Now I know you fucked each other.” she concluded, raising an eyebrow mischievously, thoroughly enjoying the newfound power dynamic.

"Okay, we were caught in the act," you sighed, defeated. You blushed a little, "What are you going to do about it? Tell on us?"

"I'm not going to tell anyone about you lovebirds, if that's what you're worried about," Wanda assured, her expression surprisingly understanding, her eyes twinkling with amusement.

Your embarrassment surged again, "Lovebirds? We're not..." you began, attempting to deny any romantic involvement.

She cut you off with a knowing grin. "Oh, please. I've seen enough romantic tension to recognize it when I see it. And you two? Well, let's just say, your 'sparring session' was more intense than any training I've witnessed."

"But it was probably a one-time thing." You tried to sound nonchalant, but even you knew it was a stretch. "That's just physical attraction. Nothing more."

"Really?" Wanda gave you a skeptikal looks. "It looked like there was something more going on between the two of you than just fucking. I saw the way he looked at you when no one was looking. It was different. Like you were his. Like he didn't want anyone to touch you, and you were his and only his."

"Wanda, are you serious?"

She nodded, "Yes! I know there's something more between you and Bucky, and I also know you have feelings for him, too."

You hesitated for a moment before admitting, "I don't know... we haven't talked about it." You sighed, "I don't think he wants more than just sex, anyway."

Wanda gave you a confused look, "Are you serious? Did he tell you that?"

You shook your head slowly. "Well, no, not really. He hasn't mentioned anything, and it's not like we've had the chance to discuss our relationship."

"Well, I'm not supposed to tell you this. Bucky will kill me if he finds out, but I'm going to say it anyway," she confessed. You chuckled inwardly, the most powerful Avenger, being cautious of Bucky.

Intrigued, you leaned in closer, your curiosity piqued. "What's going on?"

Wanda continued, "He told me not to tell you that I saw you two kissing because he didn't want you to worry about it. And when I asked where you were, he said you were probably sleeping, and I should let you be."

"He said that?" You felt your heart swell. You could feel the butterflies in your stomach.

Wanda nodded, a knowing glint in her eyes. "Yes, and that's why I'm sure there's more to it. I can see it in his eyes. I know he has feelings for you."

"He does? How did you know?"

"Y/N, I know people. I can read his mind if you want, but that would be an invasion of his privacy," Wanda explained, her tone reassuring yet firm.

"Yeah, of course. I won't let you do that," you quickly responded, appreciating her respect for boundaries. "But thanks, Wanda. I appreciate you telling me."

"Now, let's go back to my problem.” she said, steering the conversation back to her original request. “Come on, Y/N, please help me go to the sex store.”

You hesitated, considering her request. Then an idea struck you. "How about we just order online?" you suggested. "That way, neither of us has to go near the place. We can discreetly make the purchase online."

"That does sound like a better plan," she nodded eagerly. Then, with a hint of desperation in her voice, she added, "But, please, make sure it's addressed to you and not me. I really don't want anyone to know I made that purchase," she implored.

You raised a valid concern. "What about me? People will still find out if it's shipped to me."

Wanda leaned in, her voice low and reassuring. "But they don’t know your real name, Y/N. No one knows except us and the Avengers."

You sighed, feeling a mixture of annoyance and reluctant agreement. "Fine," you conceded, rolling your eyes. "It will be addressed to me. But please, Wanda, promise me you will keep your mouth shut."

"Of course, Y/N, you can trust me. I won't breathe a word to anyone," Wanda assured you with a genuine sincerity. "Your secret's safe with me, I swear."

Relieved, you allowed a small smile. In response, she beamed, pulling you into a tight hug. "Thank you, Y/N! You're the best person ever!" she exclaimed, squeezing you with enthusiasm.

You chuckled awkwardly. "You're welcome, I guess." Returning the hug, you hoped that your decision wouldn't lead to unexpected complications.

She broke the hug, a mischievous glint in her eyes. "I'll send you the link later," she said, her tone tinged with excitement. Rising to her feet, she continued, "I'll leave you to rest now. You must be exhausted after your workout, aren't you?" She smirked knowingly, her gaze flickering towards the door, "And I bet Bucky play a big part on it too, didn't he?"

"Shut up." You grabbed a nearby pillow and playfully tossed it at her. She dodged it with a laugh before heading towards the door.

"Bye, Y/N," she called out, her voice fading as she exited the room.

Rolling your eyes, you couldn't help but smile at her audacious attitude. She was certainly something, and you knew this secret shopping mission of hers was bound to be an adventure.

You stepped into the shower to get rid of the smell of sweat. The water hit your back and you felt so relaxed, your hand trailed down between your legs, you thought about how good it felt to have his cock inside of you, how he fucked you in the gym.

You stepped on the shower to get ride of the smell of sweat and sex that Bucky left you with. When the cold water touched your skin, it brought you back to the real world.

"Ow! Ow! Shit, shit!" You said under the shower and quickly turned it into warm water. "I forgot how much this place is always cold." You whispered, and began washing your hair and body.

Now you felt relax as the water fell on your head and back. The memory of the moment that happened not even an hour ago played on your mind, like a movie. 'That's right doll, take my cock' and the sound of his low and raspy voice echoed on your head.

Your hand trailed down your body, and when you got to your pussy, you rubbed your clit. "Fuck" you hissed.

You could feel your arousal growing as you started fingering yourself. You leaned your head against the shower wall and moaned his name. You thought about how good it felt to have his mouth all over your neck and body.

The water was hot and steamy, but not enough to cover your moans. Your breathing was ragged and uneven. You imagined it was Bucky who was there with you, touching you. You closed your eyes and tried to recall every detail of the encounter.

Your fingers were now deep inside your pussy, pumping hard and fast. You could still feel his tongue on your clit, licking and sucking. You knew he liked to watch you squirm.

You could feel your orgasm building, the pressure in your stomach was getting stronger and stronger.  

"Cum for me, doll." He whispered in your ear.

"Bucky! Fuck!" You screamed. You arched your back, your eyes rolling back. Your whole body shook with pleasure, waves of pleasure coursed through your veins.

You stood under the shower and breathed deeply. You didn't want to move, the hot water felt nice against your skin. But eventually you got out, wrapped yourself in a towel, and walked to the mirror. "God, look at that" you said, examining your neck.

There was a hickey where Bucky had sucked on it, and another one on your chest. It was too obvious for the others to see, but you didn't mind. You enjoyed it, and the memory made you smile.

As you saw yourself smiling like a fool, you slapped your cheeks lightly, "No, Y/N. Get a hold of yourself. You are not doing this again." But you knew you wanted to do it again.

As you dressed and settled on the bed, your phone chimed, and you saw Wanda sent you a link. Tapping on the link and the site appeared on your phone. You saw a variety of different vibrators and dildos and other stuff.

You tapped on the vibrator and it was in different colors. Black, red, pink, purple, etc.

"Oh wow." you breathed, your eyes widening as you scrolled through the available choices. As you delved deeper into the product descriptions, your intrigue grew.

'Great for solo or partnered play, its shape is flexible so it can be inserted easily, the base is wide enough so it won't slip out and the curved end is made to hit your g-spot, this vibrator is the best and you can't go wrong with it, you will always get pleasure and will leave you satisfied.'

You scrolled through the page, your eyes widening at the sheer array of options. " Jesus Christ, there are so many," you muttered, marveling at the variety.

You didn't know what to pick. So, you decided to take a screenshot and sent it to Wanda.   "Wanda, I'm so confused. Which one should I pick?" You texted her. "What kind do you want? The purple one? Or the black and white one?"

Her response came swiftly. "Get both, also the lingerie. Oh, and make sure to get some lube, I need a lot for the toys," she texted back.

"Damn, Wanda, I didn’t know you were such a naughty girl," you mumbled to yourself, amused by her boldness.

"Ugh, gross, I’m going to need therapy after this," you quickly replied, feeling a mix of amusement and horror.

"And I need to bleach my eyes after seeing you two," she replied, her response laced with playful sarcasm.

You chuckled and continued browsing the website. "So much stuff. How can people use all these? Is this the kind of thing people use?" You whispered. You couldn't help but wonder which ones Bucky might enjoy.

There was this one that caught your attention. You clicked on the image, the vibrator popped open, and a description appeared. It was an eight-inch g-spot vibrator and anal vibrator with a remote control. It was a dual action toy that stimulated both the vagina and the anus.

'This 8 inch dual action toy is an ultra powerful vibrator that delivers powerful stimulation to both the vagina and the anus. The soft and silky material makes it a perfect beginner's toy, and its strong motor and wide bulbous tip makes it great for experienced users too.

With a curved end that will hit your g-spot and an insertable length of 8 inches, it's sure will give you a powerful sensation and will leave you screaming in pleasure. It also has a strong motor and 15 different speed and vibration patterns.

This toy is also waterproof, so you can enjoy it in the bath or the shower.'

Then you saw a video of a woman using it. The sounds were really loud and it sounded like it was being used for the first time. "How can she handle all that noise? It sounds like a jet taking off." You thought, watching the video.

Wanda's text jolted you back to reality. "Have you picked the items yet? I'm waiting," she inquired, her impatience coming through.

"Yeah, I already put them in the cart. I'm about to buy them."

"Okay, thank you! Good night!" she messaged, her excitement palpable.

"Good night," you responded.

Exhaustion began to weigh on you, your eyelids growing heavier by the moment. You were utterly spent, and as you settled into the comfort of your bed, sleep swiftly claimed you.

The next day, you woke up early, your throat was dry, scratchy, and sore. Part of it was Bucky's fault, he fucked your throat too rough hitting the back of your throat.

He's a beast.

You then recalled, ‘you loved choking on my cock huh?’ As Bucky's dirty words rang in your ear. You had to admit, that was the best blow job you've ever given. You didn't know why, but something about the fact that he was using your mouth for his own pleasure excited you. You found yourself wanting to please him.

"Fuck." You groaned, burying your face in the pillow, the darkness soothing your sore eyes.

You walked into the kitchen to get some water, you took the bottle of water from the fridge and drank it. You wondered if Bucky stayed to keep an eye on you and Wanda since now both of you were considered as a threat.

You still haven't discussed about what happened with Bucky. What's the relationship now? Were you just fuck buddies? Was that one-time thing? Or does he want more? Your heart raced at the thought of having more with him, you've never been in a relationship before, but with him? That sounds amazing.

After finishing your water and tossing the empty bottle into the trash, you decided to pay a visit to Bucky's room. However, when you arrived, you found his bed empty. Disappointment washed over you, and you wondered if he had been called away on a mission.

As you exited Bucky's room, you bumped into Wanda. "Morning, babe," she greeted you cheerfully.

"Hey, Wanda. Have you seen Bucky?" you inquired.

"Yeah, he's in the gym," she replied with a knowing smile.

"Great, thanks," you said, feeling a renewed sense of hope. You exchanged a few quick words with Wanda before she set off for the market to gather supplies for the day's meals, and you headed off to find Bucky. Wanda wished you luck before parting ways.

You went to the gym to see Bucky. When you reached there, the gym was empty, there was no one there.

“Bucky?” you called.

"Yeah?" His response came as he walked out, wearing only a towel. Despite the serious conversation on your mind, you couldn't help but steal a glance at the way his abs looked after the shower, water still dripping down his torso. "What's up? You good?" Bucky asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay.” You said, clearing your throat in an attempt to regain your composure. "Just wanted to talk."

"About?"

"Us," you said, meeting his eyes. "About what happened last night." He had an unreadable expression, the look on his face didn't make it seem like he was happy about this conversation.

Bucky let out a sigh, his face expressing a clear desire to avoid the topic. "Y/N, can we not? I'm not in the mood." He began putting on his clothes, his movements brisk and uneasy.  He clearly uncomfortable with the conversation at hand.  

But you couldn't let it go. The events of the previous night hung between you, an unspoken question begging for an answer. "No, Bucky, we can't just ignore it. I know things have been weird between us," you began, "What does it mean for us? I mean, is it going to happen again?"

He ran a hand through his damp hair, his jaw clenched. "Y/N, stop." He warned, his tone growing stern for you to drop the conversation.

You sighed, looking at him with sad eyes. "Why are you doing this? Why do you keep pushing me away?" You asked, your voice determined, refusing to let the matter rest.

"I don't want to talk about this." he hissed, his patience fraying as he continued to dress, his movements becoming more agitated. "I have important stuff to do right now, so no."

"I want to know why the fuck you're acting this way!" you snapped, getting frustrated with his behavior. "Stop being a dick and just tell me. Are we going to do this again or what? What does this mean for us, huh? Is it a one-time thing or something more?” you demanded, raising your voice.

"God damnit Y/N! Just fucking stop! What's wrong with you?!" He yelled, his frustration boiling over. "Just fucking leave.”

Your heart sank, but you refused to back down. "No, not until you explain what our relationship is now," you insisted, your voice steady, though your hands trembled with the intensity of your emotions.

His glare could have frozen hell over, his eyes radiating cold anger, "We are not in a relationship. We have nothing. Do you understand? Nothing." he stated bluntly, his gaze piercing through you as he threw his duffle bag to the floor in a fit of frustration, its contents spilling out.

The look in his eyes...there was no emotion there. Just the cold stare of someone who no longer cared, and it felt like a stab to the chest. "You want to talk? Fine. Let's fucking talk. We fucked, that's it. It was a fucking mistake.”

The impact of his words hit you like a bullet to the chest. You felt a lump form in your throat, choking back the surge of emotions threatening to overwhelm you. "What…?" holding his glare as you tried to mask the hurt in your expression. This was worse than any outcomes you had ever imagined.

"A mistake, Y/N. I shouldn't have done that. It was a bad idea. It happened because I was stressed and needed to release some steam." His voice growing colder, "it was the only thing that got my mind off of everything.”

The finality of his words sinking in. “It was a fucking mistake. You happened to be there and I happened to be horny. We fucked. End of the story. Nothing else. Now fucking leave."

You had expected this to be just a one-time thing, and you thought you could handle that. But what he said was far worse, leaving you feeling utterly devastated, the weight of his rejection crushing you.

 "I just happened to be there for you to fuck? To release your steam? You think of me that way?" You asked him.

He remained silent, refusing to look at you, his gaze fixed on the floor. Why were you still standing here, allowing him to strip away your dignity? Yet, a part of you desperately clung to the hope for an answer.

Every word carved a deeper wound into your heart, yet you pressed on. "No, I need an answer," you insisted, your voice growing more desperate. "Was it just sex?”

He met your question with a nonchalant shrug, his indifference cutting deeper than any rejection. "That's all it was. Yes."

"So, it meant nothing, I'm just another girl you fucked?" you asked, the pain in your voice evident as you tried to make sense of his words.

He continued to re-packing his bags, "What more do you want me to say, Y/N?" he retorted, his anger rising once again. "That I made a mistake? That I fucked up? That I regret it? There, happy? Or do you want to hear me tell you that I used you?"

Your heart broke into a million pieces as the truth of his words struck you like a hammer to the chest. You had given your heart to him, only for him to break it. You couldn't speak, could barely breath.

"It meant nothing to me, Y/N," he continued, his voice filled with disgust. "It was a moment of weakness, and it should never have happened."

You wanted to scream, to lash out, to strike him, but instead, you stood there in silence, unable to move. Bucky's words were like daggers, piercing your heart, leaving a deep wound that would never heal. You felt numb, the pain and betrayal too much for your body and mind to handle. You knew that you would never be the same, that a part of you would always be broken.

"I thought we had a connection." You asked, your voice small, the tremor betraying your vulnerability.

His response, devoid of any sympathy or remorse, struck like a knife to your heart. "Well, you were fucking wrong. You're a fucking mistake, Y/N. You should have known better than to expect anything from me. Now get the fuck out of my sight."

The finality of his words was a slap to your face, the sting of his rejection leaving a deep, jagged scar across your heart. You would never forget his words, or the way he looked at you, his eyes filled with hatred and disdain.

You couldn't comprehend why he was acting like this. Was this the real him? He was cold, emotionless, completely different from the person you thought you knew in the gym, making you question whether the person who had shared that passionate moment with you was real.

You should've known better. You shouldn’t listen to Wanda on the first place, her suggestion was ridiculous and it led to this mess. Your heart was broken, the pain was unbearable. You were alone.

You had no one.

But the rawness of the rejection stung. It was time to leave, to salvage what remained of your wounded pride and self-respect.

"Fuck you, Barnes.”

"You already did, sweetheart.” You saw a slight smirk, “Unless you want more, I can give you that. You have a body to die for.”

Fed up with his disrespectful attitude, you turned to leave, your hand gripping the doorknob. However, something compelled you to turn back and confront him. As you faced him again, you noticed his gaze lingering on you, catching a flicker of something in his eyes, perhaps regret? But then, his expression hardened once more returned to its cold, distant state.

Summoning your strength, you said, "You really know how to hurt people, Barnes."

Bucky's response was laced with bitterness and self-awareness, acknowledging the pain he had caused, "I know, I'm a master of it." He said without looking at you with expression that you couldn't quite read, as if he wanted to say something more. Yet, he remained silent.

The room grew quiet, a heavy silence settling between the two of you, neither one willing to speak first. After what felt like an eternity, you averted your gaze, your eyes glistening with unshed tears, and whispered your farewell. "Goodbye, Barnes." With that, you turned on your heel and walked out, the door slamming shut behind you, the sound echoing the finality of the moment.

As you left the gym, your steps heavy and your heart heavier, the weight of the emotional wounds settled in. Tears streamed down your cheeks as you made your way back to your room. There, behind a locked door, you allowed your emotions to spill out. You collapsed onto the bed, your sobs echoing in the room. You didn't know how long you cried, but it was enough time for your head to hurt. You wiped your tears, feeling the exhaustion set in.

Bucky was mean, he was really mean. You thought he had changed but apparently not. Not anyone was capable of changing. As you cried, you made a silent promise to yourself: you wouldn't let him hurt you again.

E/N : I apologize for leaving you hanging with another cliffhanger, but I didn't want to make Part 2 too lengthy and risk boring you. I acknowledge it might not be as good as Part 1, and for that, I apologize. Rest assured, I'll make it worth the wait in Part 3 (I promise)! On a positive note, who's excited for the groveling trope? I certainly am! Get ready for some intense moments! intense moments ahead!

All the sub-plot with Wanda will start to make sense in Part 3 as it intertwines, and you can expect some moments of jealousy and possessiveness from Bucky as well.

Don't forget to show your support by leaving likes and comments; I'd love to hear your thoughts! 😊📚

Taglist:

@vicmc624 @am-3-thyst @barnesandsteven @naeenae @rainy-day-lady @nouk1998 @cl7ire @oneofthedyingpoets @dnovastark @waywardhunter95

If you want to be added/removed, just let me know!

[httpscomexe]

Ensnared 2

Summary: You finally get your room, but a little jealousy check leaves you ending up in Logan's room instead.

(Find What I’m currently writing by checking my pinned post)

Parings: Yandere!Logan Howlett x PlusSize!Reader

Warnings: (Individual warnings per chapter) Blood, violence, jealousy, injuries, Y/N faints around blood, a little comfort, sixth sense, foul language, separate POV, chapters 3 and further WILL include non-con aspects. Logan is an official warning as approved by the FDA (Food and Drug Administration) because Logan is a DRUG. PLEASE BE AWARE that this will be a NON-CON fic. Do NOT get attached if you do not like non-consensual fiction. I will not change my fic plans because somebody decided not to read the warnings. Let me know if I missed anything. Thank you.

Tags: @sammyluvsfics

Word Count: 4099 (Find all chapters here) Chapter 3

P.S. If you’d like to be tagged, ask in the comments, you also have permission to send an ask, but make sure it is NOT anonymous, so I know your username, don’t worry, I’m scared of confrontation too. But this is a SAFE SPACE where I will not judge. Thank you again.

Logans POV

“Hey, watch it-” His voice broke off as soon as his eyes found her, and he immediately calmed down, his hands now gripping her shoulders more carefully as he held her steady.

“I’m so sorry.” She apologised, taking a step back as he reluctantly let go of her. “Where can I find Xavier?” His ears don’t listen to her voice, instead his eyes are watching the way her lips move as she speaks.

He lets go of her. “He’s probably still in his office.” Her eyes softened, and she seemed to study his face.

“Uhm, where’s his office?”

“Are you new here?” He asks her, and she sort of shrugs before telling him “kind of.” Then he turns around, and heads towards Xaviers office, expecting her to follow behind him. Completely forgetting about the beer he had stashed in the back of the fridge, which was the reason he wasn’t in his room in the first place. But then you showed up.

He reaches the door, and notices a change in her eyes as he reaches for the handle to Xavier's office, then she shot her hands out suddenly, gripping his forearm and keeping him from opening the door. He didn’t mind though, just her touch was sending waves of heat through his body. More words spilling past her lips that he couldn’t hear before she lets go and Xavier opens his office door.

He doesn’t remember the conversation after that. He just remembers staring at her as the light shone on her face from the office light, and he was hoping the image of the way her lips moved would be imprinted in his brain. He knew he had to have you.

“Finally decided to move in?”

“Move in?” He wonders, he’d be able to see you.

More of the conversation goes straight through his head.

“You have healing powers?”He asks, trying to see at least a little interest.

Then more conversation as she answered him. Any longer standing next to her and he wasn’t sure he’d be able to keep his hands in his pockets. Then Xavier brings her into the room with him, cutting the conversation short.

Without even a good night, he just walks away, knowing if he had stared at you for one more second, he would’ve busted just by watching her lips move.

The next day wasn’t any better, he had stayed up all night just thinking about her, and when he got to see her again in the afternoon, he immediately felt better, Vincent trying to hang out with him as usual, but Vincent was nothing special like you were. He needed-

You.

Readers POV

You were ecstatic, it was Tuesday and you would finally have your own room, and Xavier tells you that Logan picked out some clothes as well that you might like. You couldn’t wait as you woke up in the morning, immediately searching for Logan, whom you’ve come surprisingly close to in the span of two days, and you normally found him in his room, just relaxing.

You don’t bother knocking, he’s told you to just come in, so you do. Immediately barging into his room and hopping onto the foot of his bed, his eyes watching you.

“So my room?” You ask.

“It’ll be done by 12.” Groaning, you lean back until you’re on your back, the stretch of your skin hurting the bruises on your ribs and stomach, making you wince. “What’s wrong?”

“Nothing.” You say quickly, groaning as you sit back up.”

“You’re lying, something hurts, what is it?” Your jaw tightens as you squeeze your teeth together, and just before you speak, his bedroom door opens. The same brown haired girl coming in as usual, every time you were in there. You assumed she was Logan's girlfriend, or something in that matter, but he talks so poorly of her.

“Vincent, I’ve asked you to knock.” You notice the change in his tone every time he talks to her. It’s soft when he speaks to you, but when he talks to her he sounds pissed every time.

“She doesn’t.” She shrugs, pointing at you before coming to sit on the bed, but Logan stretches his leg out just before she can sit and join.

“Sorry, but you’re going to have to leave. We’re having a private conversation that she wouldn’t want to share with you.” You squint your eyes, wanting to say he’s lying through his teeth, but it was true. You only trusted Logan with this information.

“Fine. Okay, Lo. Bye, and bye hun.” Vincent turns back around, making a disgusted face as she faces you, but Logan's face matches her disgust when she uses his newly acquired nickname.

“Doesn’t sound the same when she says it.” He tells you, turning back to you. “So what’s wrong?” He tries on the subject, watching your chest as you sigh heavily.

“You know the video I sent you?” You recall the video of the men attacking you.

“Yea, the assholes who tried to kick your ass.”

“Yes. The one dude that ran after me did eventually catch up, and…” You voice softens, and you slowly lift your sweater, revealing the purple and blue bruises that were painted across your stomach and ribs.

“Holy shit, he did that?” He sounded actually pissed as he stood up, suddenly laying you down before lifting your sweater further, only stopping when you hold the sweater at your chest. You weren’t wearing a bra. “Those assholes…” He mumbles, his left hand gently gliding over your bruises. Half of your body wants to punch him, but you know he’s just being friendly. You never took him as one to love physical touch, but he adored being touched or touching someone else.

“Yea, but it’s okay now.” You tell him, watching as he shakes his head before his hand finally lies flat on your lower stomach where there were no bruises.

“No it isn’t, this looks painful.”

You shrug. “Can’t do anything about it.” You whisper to yourself mostly, his eyes seemingly getting darker as his eyes move from your skin to the wall, a thought coming to his head.

“Yea, you’re right.” But he didn’t sound confident as he removed his hand from your stomach and helped you sit up.

“Just don’t tell anyone yet. I don’t want Xavier to over react.”

“I won’t but what about your checkup on Friday?”

“I asked if I could keep my clothes on, because I don’t like revealing my body.”

He wanted to ask why. Why wouldn’t you want to reveal your body? It was amazing, it was everything he’s ever wanted.

“Is that true? Or just an excuse?” You don’t say anything for a moment, not wanting to make the moment awkward but ultimately failing at best. “Darling.” He says finally, leaning forward until his face is just a few inches from yours. “You are absolutely gorgeous, don’t ever think otherwise.” You smile a little, basking in the compliment, ignoring the red sirens in your head.

“Well, thank you.” You awkwardly start to pick at your nails. “I should probably get going, I’m sure you're busy, and Xavier needed me for something.” You lie, some sort of sixth sense beginning to poke at your body. “But text me when the room is done please.” You stand, getting off his bed and he watches you move.

“Of course, I’ll see you later.”

Throughout the next few hours, you couldn’t stop looking over your shoulder. Your body was telling you something was off and you weren’t sure what it was. You were supposed to be safe and feel safe in the mansion, but for some reason, your brain suddenly wouldn’t settle.

“Hey.” A voice comes from behind you and a hand is placed on your shoulder.

“Oh, hey.” You mumble, Scotts hand still on your shoulder as he walks next to you.

“So, Logan was telling me he wanted to hand you the key to your room, but I saw you walking so here.” He holds the key out on his index finger, it dangles from a little chain.

“Why would it matter who hands it to me?” You take the key as you ask the question.

“I guess he wanted to see your reaction or something,” He takes his hand off. “I’m not sure.”

“Well, thank you, Scott. I’ll head upstairs right now.”

“Alright cool, if you need anything let me or Logan know, and by the way we also put clothes in the drawer. Xavier asked us to.” He lets you know before nodding to his friend group. “But nice seeing you, hope you like the room.” He finishes, then jogs off to his friends as you split off into another hallway, making your way up the stairs and to your room.

The second you walk in, you freeze, taking a moment before you could actually close the door. The room was nice of course. You loved it. But they had put a LOT more effort into the room than Xavier had led on. It wasn’t plain and dark wooded like all of the other rooms. Your room was lighter coloured, and the bedsheets and furniture were a girly design. Some are adorned with flower patterns or glittered with sparkles. And you’re surprised.

But that wasn’t what your eyes immediately landed on. No.

It was the bouquet on your bedsheets.

Your favourite flowers, all nicely put into a bow tie, were just sitting there, a little tag on it with Logan's name scribbled onto it. You didn’t take him for one with good handwriting.

You lift the flowers, smelling them. They were beautiful, you couldn’t deny that, but it all felt so wrong, inappropriate even. But you walk over to a little desk with your flowers, noticing an empty vase sitting on the table, already filled with water for you, so you cut the tie on the flowers and gently arrange them in the vase before texting Logan.

You put your phone away, your palms placed on the desk as you stare into the mirror attached to the wall. He had wanted to show you the room at 12, but it was past then. It was already 5 in the afternoon, did he not expect Scott to just hand you the keys? Whatever.

You think, examining the room a little further and opening the drawers to see what clothes he’d purchased for you.

In the closet there were hoodies hanging, and a few pairs of shoes including heels were set on low shelves. In the drawers were the pants, some skirts, short shorts, and a few pairs of sweats. In the other drawer were some bras and panties, all neatly folded. They weren’t exactly your style though. You were a more comfortable person when it came to bras and panties, and what he had purchased were all lace, apart from a few sports bras for if you went out exercising.

You didn’t mind it though. It was sweet of him to put as much time in as he did for you, but you still felt like he overdid it, like he had done more than he was expected to do.

Just then, as you begin to become lost in your thoughts, there’s a knock at your door, and not a second passes before it opens, you had forgotten to lock it, and Vincent's face proves it.

“Hey-”

“Don’t fucking play with me.” She cuts you off, closing the door behind her before storming up to you. “I know what you’re doing, and it better-” She pauses, her eyes landing on the vase of flowers, Logan's name still hanging from one of the stems. “He got you these?”

You nod, taking a step back from her.

“He doesn’t even buy me, his literal fucking lover any flowers, but then he gets you flowers?”

“Wait, you two are-?”

“Yes you fucking idiot.” She raises her voice a little as she speaks to you. “For years now it’s just been me and him, but ever since you’ve shown up, he’s ALWAYS around you and he never stops talking about you, so you need to back the fuck off.” Her finger points at you as she approaches you until your back is against the wall.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t know, but I’m not even going at him, I only ever go see him when he asks or if it’s important, otherwise I never actually see him-”

“Don’t lie to me.”

“I’m not.” Your voice finally starts to raise a little.

“Then why the fuck were you in his room on his bed earlier?”

“Because I had a question.”

“He said it was personal.” You pause, your lips slightly parted. “What could that possibly mean?” She scoffs. “I mean are you two fucking?”

“Absolutely not, sorry, I’m not interested in him.”

“Then what was so private that-”

“There was nothing private about it.” It was your turn to interrupt her, and slowly begin to stalk towards her, having enough of her attitude. “I’m sorry that you’re so self conscious about your boyfriend that you have to yell at me and confront me instead of trusting him, but this is not my problem. And for the record, the conversation wasn’t private, so you might want to check in with Logan to make sure he actually loves you, it seems to me he wanted you gone.”

Her face hardens, but she says nothing.

Until her fist collides with your face, pain shooting through your body from the already horribly placed bruise on your cheek.

So you hit back, and it’s back and forth throwing punches, you of course having the advantage from years of hiding and self defence. You punch at her until she’s on the floor before climbing down on top of her, hitting more punches to her face until there’s a shooting pain in the side of your thigh, making you scream in pain and fall off of her as she gets on top of you, leaving her knife in your thigh as it was her turn to punch your face, her knuckles mainly colliding with the already bruised part of your skin. Then she’s lifted off of you, thrown against the wall and you see her fall back to the floor out of the corner of your eye.

Groaning, you sit up. The knife is still sticking out of the side of your thigh making it painful to sit. You look up, and Logan is speaking to Vincent, but you couldn’t hear it. Then you shake your head a little, numbing the ringing sound of pain before gripping your bed frame and hoisting yourself up on the leg that wasn’t injured.

“So you fucking stab her?”

“She attacked me first!”

“I highly fucking doubt that.” He turns around, noticing you were not standing with beads of blood dripping down your thigh, enough to make it down to soak into the shoes you were wearing. “Are you okay? Hey, stay still.” He tells you, rushing over to help you stand.

“Don’t fucking help her, look at me!” Vincent demands, pointing at her face, her nose obviously broken as trails of blood seep past her lips.

“Yea and you fucking stabbed her!” He grits his teeth, trying not to yell since it was already most kids' time to fall asleep.

“She fucking started it.”

“No I didn’t…” You mumble, looking up at her with hate, wishing Logan wasn’t there so you could punch at her again, but you knew he would easily peel you off of her.

"I don’t care who started it, we need to get both of you to the nurse.” He finishes the argument before easily lifting you, making sure to be careful with your wound.

“Oh so you’re not gonna carry me?”

“Shut the fuck up and get the door.”

At the nurse, she doesn’t ask for an explanation. She simply takes care of Vincent, who was lucky she only had her nose dislocated, before asking Vincent to leave as she came over to you, Logan sitting behind you as you stood on your good leg.

“So I see Vincent doesn’t like you either.”

“Either?” You ask the nurse as she inspects the wound on your thigh.

“She tends to believe that every girl is after this boyfriend of hers, but no one knows who her boyfriend is.” You squint your eyes and look back at Logan.

“She said you were her boyfriend.”

“I’m not.” He growls. “She’s a fucking psycho.”

“She sure is.” The nurse mumbles, knowing she shouldn’t be expressing her opinion. “Wish you had broken her nose, then I wouldn’t have to see her.” She admits, grabbing a clean cloth from a counter.

You groan, dreading the moment the knife would have to be pulled from your body.

“So this is going to hurt obviously.” She tells you, bending down next to you and gripping the knife handle.

“Wait.” You say quickly, just before she’s about to. “Uh… I don’t-” You’re suddenly nervous. You knew it would need to be removed, but you really didn’t want it to be. You always got oozy around blood and sharp objects, such as knives and needles.

“Okay.” She nods towards Logan, who reaches forward and wraps his arms around you, holding your arms down to your sides and keeping you still.

“Logan-!” You scream, biting your teeth down in pain as the nurse pulls the knife out of your thigh, and it takes a moment for some reason, making her have to pull with more effort before it finally comes loose, a pained whimper leaving your lips as it comes out, blood pooling down your leg and onto the floor a little before she quickly covers the wound with the towel, Logans arms still wrapped around you.

“See the wasn’t so bad-” She looks at you, expecting to see your eyes fall on her, but they were closed, and your head was limp.

Yea, you’d passed out. You told her to wait for a reason, but she didn’t give you time to explain why. You knew you were going to pass out, and it was a good thing Logan was holding you, or you would’ve already been face planted on the tile floor.

“Oh.” She says, surprised. “She’s fainted.”

Logan's eyes squint in confusion as the nurse turns away and his finger gently is placed under your jaw as he continues to hold you, the nurse wrapping the cloth around your wound as she goes to collect what she needs for stitches.

He looks down at you, moving your head so it rests under his chin as he presses a soft kiss to your head. One you would punch him for if you were awake.

“I'll probably have to medicate her. I don’t know if it was the knife or blood that bothered her.” the nurse tells him, kneeling next to you with a kit to stitch the wound.

“It was probably the blood.”

“Which wouldn’t be too good. She’ll have to replace the bandage in the morning and a few more times, meaning there will be more blood until it heals.”

“I can help her.”

“What exactly happened with Vincent and her?” Logan looks down at you, making sure you were still faint before answering her.

“Vincent just walked into her room, yelling at her. Then she punched her.”

“Oh, Vincent is- well she’s something.” The nurse says, just as your eyes twitch slightly, but you keep them shut, your head spinning as you feel the needle the nurse was using go into your skin.

“Yea, Vincent is annoying, she can be a piece of shit. But Y/N only has a certain amount of patience. I just can’t believe Vincent punched her.” How did he know that?

“Yea, I’ll be sure to suspend Vincent, I know she has a home outside of the mansion.”

“And what about her?” He looks down at you, eyes still closed.

“Well, I know she didn’t start it, but she did still fight back instead of trying to get away. So I’ll have to send out a suspension for her too. Vincent will have her three days, then when she gets back, it will be Y/N's turn, we don’t want them outside both at the same time.”

There’s a clipping sound as the nurse cuts the wire she was stitching you with, and she stands, some blood on her gloves as she looks at you, your eyes finally opening.

“All done darling.” She smiles sweetly, nodding towards Logan so he lets you go.

“Thank- thank you.” How did he know Vincent had punched you first? He wasn’t there and no one actually described what had happened yet. You were with Vincent from when she arrived to when she left, neither of you had told Logan who did what first, only why.

“Of course, now was it the blood or knife that made you… faint.”

“The blood.” You mumble, hating even the word.

“Okay, well are you alright with Logan changing the wrap twice a day? So you don’t have to walk all the way down here?” You nod, and feel Logan take a deep breath, your back still against his chest but you feel too exhausted to move.

“Alright. Well, he’ll help you to bed of course, let me know if you need anything, and let me know if it starts to bleed profusely. As a matter of fact maybe you should sleep in the same room together.” She throws the idea out there as she cleans her area. ��It would be smart in case you do wake up in blood, you’ll wind up and faint then bleed out.”

You turn to look at Logan, who only shrugs. It was up to you.

“Yea… I guess that would be a good idea.” You sigh a little, not exactly excited to have to sleep near Logan for the sake of your life.

“Alright then, well you two have a good night then.” Logan shifts behind you, then lifts you again as the nurse shoves a bottle into his pocket. “Only two a day, painkillers, she doesn’t have to take them, but she should only need them for the next two weeks.”

“Thank you, Ronda. Good night.”

“Good night.”

He places you on his bed, making sure you’re comfortable sitting before going to his drawer and taking out a shirt.

“Go ahead and take those off, they’re covered in blood.” He tells you, and you hesitate before looking down, your shorts ruined from blood, then you shift a little to make space and remove them, it’s painful. “Here, shirt too.” You look down again, yes, of course the shirt was ruined.

You sigh a little, pulling your shirt off over your head before quickly taking the shirt from him and replacing your last shirt. “I’m sorry for what happened-”

“How did you know?”

He freezes, and stares down at you.

“Know what?”

“That she was in my room.”

“I didn’t know. I was going in there to see how you liked your room but walked in on her kicking your ass.”

“For your information, I was kicking her ass.”

“This says otherwise.” He points to your thigh, wrapped in bandages, and you chuckle a little.

“Yea, if she hadn’t stabbed me though, I would’ve won.”

“I’m sure you would’ve.” He tells you, moving around the bed after switching off the lights to sit next to you, and he lifts his shirt off over his head, giving you a moment to look down at his toned abs before looking away, his shirt barely covering his eyes for a second.

“Wake me up if you need me.” He tells you, opening the pill bottle and handing you two pills.

“Thank you.”

“Do you need water?” You shake your head, taking the pills dry before he turns off his bedside lamp. “Okay, then good night.”

“Good night.” You echo, lying down next to him after turning out the lamp on your side as well.

And as your eyes close, the pain in your thigh subsiding, he falls asleep way before you, the bed shifting as he moves his weight closer to you. Except he doesn’t touch you like you expected him too, your body stiffening at the thought.

Behind you, his hand pauses as he sees you stiffen, you could feel his hand had gotten closer, the only reason he hadn’t touched you was because of the fear he could smell off of you. Fear he knew he would have to demolish.