#and i post content like once a month if i’m lucky

[euphor1a]

i just saw your last post trough my notifications and felt obligated to tell you that I have it on lmao

... y–you wHAT NOW?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!?!? Like fr? ☹️ That’s... idk sounds like i’m dreaming

[ghostofskywalker]

More Than The Persona

Tyler Owens/Fem!Reader

Words: 2,248

Summary: Tyler Owens is the poster child for storm chasing, his videos often leading to viewers glamourising these drastic weather events. As a first responder, you're no stranger to the death and destruction that tornadoes leave in their wake, so the two of you don't exactly click the first time you meet.

Note: i saw twisters yesterday and i was pleasantly surprised with how much i enjoyed it, since i also love the original 1996 one. as far as why this was written, i’m procrastinating writing zine fics right now and that's the only explanation I can offer lol. i'd love to write more twisters fic in the future though, i did have fun with it

As you stepped out of the ambulance, you could see destruction wherever you turned. Countless houses were razed where they stood, their contents strewn all across the street. Even the structures that had been lucky enough to only get clipped by the tornado were still damaged beyond repair, in some cases with their entire facades ripped off, now laying somewhere smashed on the ground. No matter how many times you had seen scenes like this, the gravity of the situation never got lighter. For almost all of these people, recovering would take months, if not years. 

Crowds were just beginning to collect on the streets as some emerged from storm shelters, but you knew there were some who hadn’t been afforded that luxury. You shared a knowing look with the other members of your team as they began to step over the debris in search of those that might be trapped under rubble. 

By the time more pickup trucks pulled up to the scene, you had set up outside one of the ambulances, hard at work treating the wounds of those who could make it over to you. The crates of water bottles next to you were quickly diminishing, but the line of people in need of medical care never seemed to, which was a sitaution you were unfortunately used to finding yourself in. 

As the newcomers fanned out through the area, you weren’t the only one who stared. Although not a fan yourself of the self-appointed “Tornado Wrangler,” you unfortunately recognized the man who led a small group down the street. Resisting the urge to roll your eyes, you turned your attention back to the person in front of you. There was nothing you could do about the fact that some wannabe celebrities were trying to profit off of the disaster by getting in the public’s good graces, so you would just have to suck it up and hope they eventually get bored enough to leave.

Hours later, you were still in that same spot, and there was still so much to do. Some of the ambulances had left temporarily the scene, taking those whose injuries were more intense off to the closest hospital. Right now, your priority was getting immediate medical aid to those who needed it, even if you could feel your eyes drooping with fatigue. As you gently bandaged up the arm of a young girl, someone tapped on your your shoulder. “Take a break,” and you could hear the sound of your best friend’s voice even if you were looking at him. “I can tell that you need it.” 

You shook your head as the little girl walked off in the direction her mother was standing. “Don’t worry about me Isaac, ‘m fine here.” 

“I don’t believe that,” he responded. “At least get some water and take a few moments to eat something.” 

After a few more passes back and forth, Isaac practically shoved you from your post. With a water bottle in your hand, you wandered around the area, mind racing as you tried to find a way you could help once you had taken a few minutes to yourself. But of course, you were not granted solitude for long. Right as you had raised the bottle to your lips, a voice interrupted your thoughts. “Need anything?” 

Tyler Owens was standing a few paces away, a small box in his hands. The cowboy hat on his head looked pristine, a stark contrast to the way that your work clothes were already too grimy for your taste. “I’m okay,” you said, sending a tight-lipped smile his way and hoping that he would get the message that you weren’t interested in conversing right now. “Thank you.” 

“Are you sure?” he asked, clearly not having picked up on the signs. “You’ve been out here for hours and this is the first time you’ve stopped for any kind of break.” 

Your gaze hardened slightly as you regarded him. “And how would you know?” He was correct of course, but you had no plans to admit that, especially not when he acted as though he knew everything about you. 

“It was just a guess, but I can see that I’m right,” he said, a smile crossing his face that you hated to say that you found attractive. Why did the best looking people have to act as dumb as they did? 

By the grace of the universe, a colleague called you over to them right as you opened your mouth to respond, and Tyler didn’t follow as you headed over to help once more. The whole time, you found yourself thinking about him and his team. What were they even doing here, besides getting in the way of those actually trying to help? 

***

After that time, it felt like you ran into Tyler Owens at least three times a week. He and his team showed up to the sites of destruction with their video cameras out as they surveyed the damage. Multiple times, you had to shoo them away from you as you worked, tirelessly bandaging cuts, scrapes, and other lacerations that people had suffered from the winds of the storm. Despite the fact that your initial conversation with Tyler had lasted less than a minute, he apparently felt that it was enough to bother you again, and to act as though you were much closer than you were. 

This time, you were bandaging up an older woman when you heard his voice interrupt your focus. “Hey medic!” 

Resisting the urge to sigh, you turned to look at him. “What are you doing here?” 

Unfortunately, the smile on his face didn’t shift at your tone. “Helping, of course.” 

“And how exactly is annoying me while I’m just trying to do my job considered helpful?” 

“I’m convincing you to take a break,” he said. “I’ve seen how hard you work, and the way you put others first so many times. Sometimes you need to take care of yourself to take care of others.”

Sighing, you finished gently wrapping gauze around the woman’s leg before speaking. “Nice try, making it seem like you have any concern,” you said. “But I don’t have any interest being on in your  YouTube videos, and I can take care of myself perfectly fine.” 

His smile dropped slightly as he registered your words, the first time it’s happened since you met. Every other time, your words seem to pass right over him, no matter how annoyed you sounded as you spoke, but not this one. He mumbled something you didn’t quite catch before stepping away, and you felt your heart sink slightly in a way you didn’t expect. 

“He’s right you know,” the woman you had just bandaged said as she got up from the chair in front of you. 

“What?” you asked, still trying to wrap your head around the conversation with Tyler.

“You need to take a break at some point. If you’ve been out helping like this after all these recent storms, it’s going to take a toll on you.” 

You nodded, knows that both her and Tyler were right. “I will, I promise.”

“Good,” said. The woman left after giving you another knowing smile, and you flagged down Isaac to take your place for a few minutes. 

It always felt strange, to sit down on the ground and look at the tornado’s destruction. Children’s toys, blankets, and even the skeletal remains of furniture were on the street now, no telling which homes they had once belonged to. You stared out as the wind picked up a photo and pushed it away from you, before it was eventually grabbed by someone. 

As you took a sip of the water bottle in your hands, Tyler appeared from the crowds once more, his hands up in mock surrender as he approached you. “I see you took my advice.”

“I see you’re still dead set on bothering me wherever I go,” you said, but the tone was halfhearted. 

“It’s not my only goal in life, but it’s one I get to work on often,” he said, sitting down next to you. 

“Why?” you asked, finally gathering up the courage to voice the question that had been swirling around your mind since you first met him. “I don’t know you. No offense, of course.” 

A small snort of laughter left his mouth. “I don’t know, I think at this point we could be longtime friends.” You raised your eyebrows at him, and the smile on face grew as he realized that this was once again lighthearted teasing. “I keep bothering you because I can tell you need someone to tell you when to stop.” 

Immediately, you got a little defensive. “No I don’t.” 

“Come on, I think the only time I’ve ever seen you take a break is when someone else said something, and I doubt it’s ever done without some kind of denial.” You looked down at the ground, slightly embarrassed that he had hit the nail on the head. “People all across the community are going to be incredibly grateful for the hours you put in to help them, but it wouldn’t matter as much if you’re neglecting your own care.” 

You stopped, staring once more at the destruction in front of you. “Just because I’m not smiling and laughing for the camera doesn’t mean I’m not taking care of myself.” 

“Going hours without even a sip of water doesn’t exactly back that statement up you know.” 

“Fine,” you admitted. “Maybe you’re right, but it certainly doesn’t help when people like you show up to these scenes to sightsee all the destruction and try to get some clicks out of it.” 

His face changed in an instant, growing more somber than you’ve ever seen before. “Is that all you think we’ve been doing?” 

You nodded slowly, not sure what to expect from his change of attitude. 

“I suppose the way you’ve treated me makes sense now.” 

You stopped. “So you’re not just here for fun?” 

“Half of what we do can usually be considered stupid, I’ll admit that,” he said, looking over at you. “But it’s not all fun and games, I promise. See over there?” He gestured to where a group of people were standing around a table outside his team’s camper van, the reason for their presence obscured by the growing crowd gathering there. “A portion of our our t-shirt sales is put towards disaster kits, and my team over there is handing them out. Free of charge of course.” 

As your eyes focused on the scene, you could see he was right. There was no exchange of money as the team of people handed out boxes of food and bottles of water. You could see a stack of T-shirts sitting to the side, but even those were being handed out to the those that asked whenever requested. 

Immediately, you were overwhelmed with embarrassment at the way you had always perceived him, when all this time he had been doing so much to aid those who just had their lives disrupted. Maybe if you had taken the time to look past the thrill-seeking attitude you could have seen that, but instead you had been so wrapped up in your own life and work. “I’m so sorry for the way I saw you,” you said, turning towards Tyler with a sincere look on your face. “You want to help just as much as I do, and I let my opinion the ‘Tornado Wrangler’ persona get in the way of understanding that.”

He smiled in a way that was more genuine than any of the others you had seen on him. “Thanks,” he said sincerely. “But don’t worry about it, you’re not the first person to make the assumption, and you probably won’t be the last. I willingly drive into tornados for fun, it’s not exactly something you do if you’re not a little bit crazy.” 

You laughed. “Yeah, as a medical professional I really can’t condone that.”

“Most people would probably agree with you.” 

The two of you sat there for a few minutes more, a comfortable silence enveloping the air before you had to get back to work. There was still so much more to be done, and the daylight hours were slipping away. 

But as the two of you got up and you began to walk away, Tyler’s voice stopped you. “Hey.” 

Turning around to face him, a quizzical look overtook your face. “Hmm?” 

“I’ll see you around, alright?” 

You smiled, the cautious fluttering of tiny butterflies taking hold of your stomach. It was only a matter of time before this happened, you supposed, but you tried not to let anything show on your face. “Yeah,” you said, a genuine smile breaking through any attempt you made to remain nonchalant. “See you around.” 

***

That night, as you laid on the couch watching TV, you saw a text pop up on your phone from a number you didn’t recognize. 

It’s Tyler. Before you get mad at me, Isaac gave me your contact info. 

You playfully rolled your eyes, making a mental note to confront your friend later, that perceptive bastard. 

Do you wanna go out for drinks sometime? I don’t wanna have to wait for another tornado to see you. 

Sure, was the response you typed out and sent off, but on the inside, you were a lot more excited. 

Okay, maybe you didn’t have to be that hard on Isaac.

- the end -

i no longer have a taglist! if you're interested in being notified when i post, you can follow my library blog @ghostofskywalker-library and turn on notifications!

[yournightmary]

Skater!Ellie HCs

content warning:: mentions of getting hurt and vomiting

AN:: Honestly, I don’t know anything about skating. also, i’m working on the fear street!AU (multi-chapter) if anyone is interested:3

⇢ ˗ˏˋ skater!Ellie who is popular but she doesn’t even know why. Like, she has a ton of instagram followers but posts like once every few months (not even her face) and every time she’s somewhere someone always comes up to her.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ skater!Ellie who is always covered in scratches and bruises. She’d be like ‘oh my leg kinda hurts’ and pulls her pants up to see a giant bruise on her shin.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ skater!Ellie who had to go to the emergency room after trying some dumb trick and snapping her arm in half. Twice.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ skater!Ellie who doesn’t have a single pair of ‘nice’ pants. Everything is ripped, stained or damaged in some other way.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ skater!Ellie who had a tattoo on the palm of her hand but she fell so much it literally has gotten scraped off with.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ skater!Ellie who doesn’t believe in special skating shoes and just wears her beat up converse sneakers. Probably asks cute girls to write their numbers on them.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ skater!Ellie who is a bike hater. No particular reason, she just does.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ skater!Ellie who bought a walkman from a thrift store just so she can be cool and mysterious. Doesn’t even have cassettes.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ skater!Ellie who also loves to explore abandoned buildings. Counts jumping over fences and collapsed walls as a workout

⇢ ˗ˏˋ skater!Ellie who had a penny board as a kid!!!

⇢ ˗ˏˋ skater!Ellie who always does the most dangerous shit and somehow pulls it off. There’s a saying in my native language that’s like ‘a dumb person will always be lucky’ and I think it’s very fitting.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ skater!Ellie who ironically listens to ‘Sk8er Boi’. Yeah, sure…

⇢ ˗ˏˋ skater!Ellie who has the best socks on the planet. She’s always rocking some funny/cute designs.

⇢ ˗ˏˋ skater!Ellie who tried to graffiti once but inhaled the spray paint on accident and puked blue for almost an hour.

Love you guys xx

[scoonsalicious]

1.1 Major

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Fem!Reader

Summary: Lily McIntire, trainer for new SHIELD recruits at the Avengers Tower, has been in love with her best friend, Bucky Barnes, from the moment she met him. She's been content with her role of the #1 girl in Bucky's life, even if it means she has to sabotage a romantic relationship or two. It'll be worth it when he realizes that they're meant for each other, right? There's just one small problem: Lily McIntire never expected Bucky Barnes to fall for You.

Warnings: (For this part only; see Story Masterlist for general Warnings) Language, alcohol consumption, slight objectification of men.

Word Count: 1.6k

Previously On...: Lily McIntyre met Bucky Barnes. Everything had changed, and now it's only him that matters.

A/N: You know what? Fuck it. Turns out I write more when I'm actively writing for all of you. Plus, I miss you, besties. Yes, I know-- it's only been two days, but I don't care. You guys give me the strength to face the day, and when I'm interacting with you, I'm happiest. So, we're starting the full roll-out of With Friends Like These... Now, there won't be multiple postings per day, so I won't be dropping a bunch at once. We're going to start nice and slow, lol. I hope you like it!

NOTE! The tag list is a fickle bitch, so I'm not really going to be dealing with it anymore. If you want to be notified when new story parts drop, please follow @scoonsaliciousupdates

Thank you to all those who have been reading; if you like what you've read, likes, comments, and reblogs give me life, and I truly appreciate them, and you!

You stood outside the door to the bar, nervous as fuck. It wasn’t every day a girl got invited to spend an evening out on the town with the goddamned Avengers, and though you’d only known Natasha Romanoff for about six months now, you were honored she liked you enough to extend an invitation for you to join her and her friends on their off time. 

Giving yourself a once over in the reflection of the bar’s window, you double checked to make sure you looked good– your hair and makeup were on point, your dark wash skinny jeans hugged your curves in the best possible way, and the black satiny top you wore under your leather jacket showed just enough cleavage to be tantalizing, but not trashy. 

You got this, you told yourself. You took a breath, and walked inside. 

The place was dimly lit, but not too crowded. You were able to spot Natasha easily– it wasn’t as if the striking redhead was hard to miss. She sat at a high top with another redhead, nursing a vodka tonic. Catching her eye, you waved and made your way over.

“Major!” Nat greeted you, going in for a friendly hug, which you happily returned. “I’m so glad you made it!” She pointed to the other redhead– Wanda Maximoff, The Scarlet Witch, you remembered now from having seen her on the news– and introduced you. “Major, this is Wanda; Wanda, Major.” You shook hands as the other woman offered you a kind, welcoming smile.

“Finally, some balance to the force,” she joked. At your questioning look, she elaborated: “We are desperately outnumbered in the girl department when it comes to our friend group,” she said. “It’s just me and Nat versus the boys.”

“There’s Lily, too,” Nat interjected.

“Please.” Wanda said, waving Nat’s words off dismissively. “We all know that Lily is not one of us.”

Nat snorted into her drink. “Lily’s just not really a girl’s-girl,” she offered to you in explanation. “Very much sees herself as ‘one of the guys,’ if you catch my meaning.”

You nodded; you’d had plenty of experience with pick-me girls in the past. “Yeah, I know the type.” You waved down a waitress and put in an order for a frozen margarita.

“So, Major,” Wanda said, taking a sip of her beverage once the waitress had gone, “which one of our lucky bachelors is going to catch your eye tonight?”

“I don’t follow,” you said, confused. 

Wanda turned to Nat and playfully hit her on the shoulder. “You bitch! You didn’t tell her?”

Nat had the decency to look sheepish. “I wanted it to be organic,” she said, offering you an apologetic smile.

“Natasha Romanoff,” you said, realization dawning on you, “did you invite me out tonight to try and set me up with one of your teammates?”

Nat frowned, looking remorseful. “I know I should have said something, but you’re always complaining about how you never have luck with dating, and it just so happens I live in a compound literally full of eligible men, so I thought… I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have overstepped.”

The waitress brought over your margarita and you raised it, toasting to Nat. “Fuck apologies; you want to hook me up with an Avenger? Girl, remind me to send you a gift basket!”

Nat and Wanda both laughed, raising their own glasses to toast with you. Wanda leaned over toward you, her voice a conspiratorial whisper.

“Alright, don’t be obvious about it,” she said, “but our fine gentlemen are over at the pool table.” You followed her line of sight and were met with an array of some of the most attractive men you had ever seen. Yeah, you’d seen them on tv, and in magazines, but they were always wearing costumes and masks. But up close? And in person?

“Woof,” you said softly. 

“Okay,” said Nat, leaning in on your other side. “Let’s size up our options. First, we’ve got Captain America, himself, Steve Rogers. All-American, corn-fed, take-home-to-mamma kinda guy. Such a gentleman, could bench press four of you. Knows how to treat a girl right.”

“And bore her to tears,” Wanda added.

“Wands!” Nat flashed her eyes. “We’re supposed to be talking them up!”

Wanda shrugged. “Facts are facts,” she said. “A sweetheart, really, but very old fashioned.”

“Fine,” Nat said, exasperated. “Moving on, we have Sam Wilson, our resident Falcon. He’s funny, charming, a great dancer.”

“Seriously good moves,” Wanda added with an enthusiastic nod.

“Smart, good listener,” Nat offered. “Incredibly loyal.”

“You make him sound like a puppy,” you said, laughing.

“Oooh, oooh, my turn!” Wanda said enthusiastically. “Next up is our resident himbo, the one and only Thor Odinson. Unbelievably endearing, the body of a literal god: Great hair, an ass you could bounce a quarter off of, arms that could snap your tiny little body right in half if he had half a mind to…”

“Down, girl,” Nat said, flicking some droplets of water from her water glass at Wanda. “Damn, we’re here for Major, not you.”

“Sorry,” said Wanda, ducking down to hide her blush behind her hair. “He’s just so… big. And… beefy. Like, what does one even do with that much man?” she asked, before muttering so low you could barely hear her: “I would really like to find out.”

You and Nat stifled your laughter. “Okay, definitely not going to be Thor for me, then,” you offered. Across the room, another man caught your eye, one Nat and Wanda hadn’t mentioned yet. “Who’s that?” you asked them.

Nat craned her neck. “Oh, that’s Parker. I dunno; he’s kinda on the young side for my taste, but the kid is 18, so if that’s what you’re into–”

“Ugh, no– pass,” you said, realizing she had been referring to the skinny teenager who was hanging on Steve Rogers’ every word. “No, I mean the brunet. Who’s he?” The more you studied him, the more you realized he just may be the most handsome man you’d ever seen. He was currently leaning against a pool cue, engrossed in conversation with Sam. He had a slight smirk on his face, as if he was keeping in a very humorous secret, and it painted his features in an adorably boyish light. 

While you were looking at him, he turned his head and saw you watching him. You should have been mortified at being caught staring but instead, you were taken aback by how striking his crystal blue eyes were. You offered him a soft smile, and were delighted when his own widened in return, his cheeks taking on a dusky hue in the low light, before Sam elbowed him, bringing his attention back to the game of pool. He shot you another look, running his tongue along his bottom lip, before refocusing his attention.

“Oh,” said Nat, following your gaze. “Oh, no, no, no. That’s Bucky Barnes. He’s… not on the menu.”

You turned back toward her, disappointed. “Oh. Of course, guy that good looking’s got to have a girlfriend, right?”

Nat and Wanda exchanged glances. “Not exactly,” Nat said.

“Remember how we mentioned Lily not being a girl’s-girl?” Wanda asked, nodding her chin toward where the boys were racking the balls for a new game. You hadn’t noticed the woman in their midst before– petite, blond, and athletic. 

“Yeah, Lily’s more of a Bucky’s-girl,” Nat added. “Just, you know, Bucky’s not aware of it.”

You must have looked very confused, because Wanda was quick to clarify. “Bucky only joined the team… what? Four years ago?” She looked to Nat for confirmation, and Nat nodded. “He was like a totally different guy back then. Didn’t go out, didn’t want to be around people.”

“Like Oscar the Grouch, but if you took him out of the trash can and gave him moderately better grooming standards,” Nat offered. 

“Yeah,” Wanda continued, nodding in agreement, “and for the longest time, the only person he would talk to was Steve. But then, like, Lily made it her life’s work to become his best friend.”

“I remember it annoyed the shit out of him in the beginning,” Nat added. “Poor guy just wanted to be left alone to process his trauma.” She sighed. “But the girl was relentless. She’s got tenacity, I’ll say that for her.”

“That’s actually kind of sweet,” you said. “That she wouldn’t give up trying to be there for him.”

“No, sorry,” Nat said. “We’re not explaining this well. She basically made being Bucky’s best friend her entire fucking personality. It was like, any other friend she had just–poof! Stopped existing to her. We no longer mattered; everything became about Bucky.”

“It’s a bit much,” Wanda said. “She’s very… I don’t want to say protective is the right word for it, but very possessive of him.”

“It’s like no girl Bucky’s ever dated has been good enough to pass her standards,” Nat said. “And she’s had no problem making that abundantly clear, and I know she’s been the reason for at least a couple of his relationships ending. Poor guy’s balls must be so blue by now, they’re practically black; she never lets him get any action.”

You took a sip of your margarita. “Well, they’ve got to be sleeping together, right?” you asked. Nat and Wanda both looked at you. “I mean, that would explain it, right?”

“Oh, they are definitely not,” Nat said. “Though I’m sure she wishes. I heard him tell Steve she reminds him of his dead kid sister.”

You sucked in a breath. “Ouch,” you said. “Just what every girl wants to hear, I’m sure.” You looked back over to the pool table, admiring the way Bucky bent over to take a shot. “It’s too bad,” you said, turning back to girls. “I mean, he’s hot as hell, but no man’s worth taking on that kind of drama.”

<- Previous Part / Next Part ->

[schlattsdarling]

Yoooooooo! I’d like a prt 2 to that bully!schlatt x reader thingy. 😉

But I think you can make the smut 5 bajillion times better if you make schlatt a switch, like he’s aggressive and an asshole at first….. but he softens up….. eventually….. after some fighting….. 😏

I just want reader to be like “who’s weak now punk” and bully!schlatt get all shy and 🥺 👉👈 (he still sassy, but it’s all bark no bite)

You don’t have to do this, just that it’s be more interesting than the usual dominant schlatt doms the reader for the bajillionth time.

~🍓🍰 (if you’re familiar with dollie’s posts from a couple months ago, then I’m the same anon, but if ya don’t then coolio)

🍓🍰 anon, ofc I know who you are!

I was actually thinking of taking this in a similar direction to what you suggested… i guess great minds think alike ;)

Content Warning : NSFW, afab!reader

Bully!Schlatt Part 2

It takes everything in you to push the larger guy off of you. You admire the way his chest moves as he gets desperate for air, and the way the lust in his eyes makes his pupils widen.

“That innocent enough for you?” You question him, leaning back against the wall and crossing your arms

He seems lost for words for a split second before he remembered where he was “What the fuck was that?” He retorts back in an attempt to cover his moment of weakness.

Puffing his chest out, copying your cross-armed mannerism, he gives you a hard stare as though he’s waiting for you to argue with him.

“What do you mean?” You ask looking up at the taller guy, doe eyed and forging innocence.

“Oh don’t even try that shit with me, y/n” He practically snorts out.

“I’m not-” You begin.

“Funny that you think you’re the one in charge around here-” He pauses and looks around him, leaning forwards putting one arm above your head, ��You’re at this party alone, no one here even knows who you are, you should feel lucky that i’m paying attention to you”.

You don’t know what else to do other than to stare at him, agape; is this guy being serious?

10 seconds ago he had his tongue down your throat, grasping onto any part of you he could get… and now he was acting like he’s disgusted by your entire presence.

“Not so confrontational now, are we?” He taunts leaning impossibly closer to you. His large hand slowly trailed its way from your waist to your chin, holding it in a firm grip between his thumb and index finger.

You felt like your mind was going to explode.

Talk about mixed signals.

“I have nothing to say” You reply barely above a whisper, watching as his hand makes its way back down your body, lingering longer on your breasts.

“Do I make you nervous, sweetheart?” He hums, a slight rasp in his voice.

You could feel your body internally jolt. You imagined his arm flexing around your neck instead of against the wall. The shirt that was clinging onto his chest being thrown on a random bedroom floor.

“Let’s go” You huffed pushing him away from you but grasping firmly onto his wrist.

“Where-” “Shush”

“But-” “I said be quiet, didn’t I?”

You could feel his eyes burning into the back of your skull as you weaved your way through the swarm of bodies.

Schlatt could feel the way his perceptions were changing, his inhibitions were starting to loosen as he relaxes into the moment. There’s a sense of surrender as he lets you drag him around whilst he relinquishes control.

Music pulsates through the thin walls, drowning out any passing comments from your classmates as you turn the handle and push open the door to a hopefully empty bedroom. Your eyes, once low and timid in his presence, now spoke with a fierce determination, holding him captive in a steady gaze.

Schlatt, on the other hand, finds himself uncharacteristically tentative; his swagger and bravado that once outlined his personality had been replaced with a glimmer of submission.

As you step closer, the intimacy of your proximity exudes a commanding presence, which he is acutely aware of. Words are scarce, but the silence speaks volumes. Your touch is both assertive and exploratory, each movement a statement of your dominance and Schlatt's newfound submission. Your fingertips dance across his chest, steadily making their way to his face as you trace his sparse few freckles. Your gaze made its way up to his, a dumbfounded look placed upon his face, honey kissed eyes studying your every move with fierce intensity.

"Who knew you were hiding such a dirty mind" Schlatt spoke quietly, moving his hands up to your waist in an aching manner for your touch.

"There's a lot you don't know about me," you admit, voice dropping to a husky whisper. "But you're about to find out."

Schlatt swallows hard, "What do you want from me?"

"Everything" You respond with certainty.

Hands roamed freely and hurriedly over each other's skin as Schlatt practically pounced on you like a tiger reaching its prey. Your lips were rosy and swollen from the evident eagerness emitted from both you and Schlatt's passionate kisses. Hair tousled and movements were urgent, your shirt was quickly disregarded as Schlatt fumbled around your waistband. The sweetness of your perfume complimented his bitter cologne, creating an intoxicating aroma in the room.

The bass from the party downstairs throbbed through the floorboards as you slowly unzipped Schlatt's pants. You savoured the power reversal, drinking in Schlatt's pleading whimpers and desperate attempts to hurry you up. Your fingers trailed teasingly along his collarbone and down his stomach.

"Please," Schlatt gasped.

You smirked, leaning in close to whisper in her ear. "Not so tough now, are you Big Guy?"

You nipped at Schlatt's neck, eliciting a hopeless moan. Schlatt tastes the sweetness of your lips as you gently lean in to give him a kiss before moving down to his lower body. He can taste the saltiness of his own sweat as his body reacts to your touch. With a mischievous glint in her eye, you took him into your mouth, tongue tracing the tip of his length, waiting for a reaction.

"Don't be a tease" Schlatt barely managed to whisper before it was replaced with a gut wrenching moan.

"What was that?" You question as you remove every part of yourself from him.

"No, don't stop... please, I'm sorry" He rambles as he tries to readjust himself against the headboard.

"Pathetic." Is all you scoff out before your lips are pressed tightly around his throbbing cock.

Hand pumping at the base as you bobbed your head up and down; tongue swirling around the tip as your eyes are locked onto Schlatt’s face, taking in his face contorted in pleasure - drinking in every subtle reaction, using it as fuel to go faster.

“Fuck… y/n” Schlatt whimpers out

“Oh you like this, huh?” You taunt him before carrying on. You see his head nod rapidly before he stutters out a “Please baby 'm close… so fucking close”

“My boy's close, hm?” You ask increasing your speed, “Gonna be a good boy for me and cum yeah?” You see him nod whilst relishing in the pleasure.

“Come on Schlatt” “Use your words” You command him.

“I’ll be so good, fuck- promise” He whines out, “Please baby, please I’m gonna cum”

“Go on, been so so good for me” You coo as he releases.

You sit up and move so your face to face with him; your direct eye contact mixed with the innocence on your face your giving him is enough to make him cum again. You push him down again gently and straddle his lap whilst you remove the remainder of your clothes, revealing your glistening body. Schlatt's eyes are filled with desire and admiration as he takes you in. Not wanting to waste any more time, you position yourself on top of him letting him slide deep into you.

You both gasp at the sensation - slowly moving as sharp inhales echo around the room. "Fuck" Schlatt mutters under his breath and you speed up your movements. You feel the heat between the two of you rise as the friction on your clit builds up. You lean down closer to him crashing your lips together - hands tangled in his loose curls, tugging authoritatively. His thrusts become erratic and desperate as he grasps your hips in a bruising manner.

"I'm so close... please, please" he whimpers into your ear, warm breath brushing against your skin. "Yeah? Come on, be a good boy for mommy... cum for me, baby"

It hits you both at the same time - his hips stutter and the soft glow of the lights outside enhance the intimate atmosphere surrounding the two of you. Sweat is glistening on your bodies as your eyes meet in an intense gaze.

"Well shit" You half heartedly laugh as you flop down and lean against him. His arm snakes it way around your waist as he chuckles, grinning, "Yeah that was... something".

"Do you think they heard us?" you question him, looking up at his still dazed face.

"Hopefully" he smirks meeting your gaze.

[daydreamingatnight209]

I’m not sure on how I feel about this one, but I’m posting it anways 😅🤞

Feedback is welcome - Hate is not ✨💕

“My Best Friend, My Girlfriend, My Everything”

Colson Baker x Female Reader

Warnings - Slight angst, fluffy ending 💕

Prompts used: Credit goes to all original owners -

1. "How drunk are you?" "V...Very." "Drunk enough not to remember tonight? "Hmm." "Good. I love you. And I'm tired of being just your best friend."

2. "He will never know that I like him." "Why?" "Because I'm just one of the million stars, and he's the moon.

3. I can’t believe it took me all these years to realise how I truly feel about you.

4. "Wow those bloodstained clothes really bring out your eyes... Of course I'm being sarcastic! Get over here and let me stitch you up!"

—————————————————————————

Most would think that traveling with an international superstar who also happened to be your lifelong best friend, would mean hitting the jackpot in life. But realistically after a month stuck surrounded by testosterone in such close quarters with a bunch of men who often act like overgrown toddlers , you can’t help but begin to feel like a glorified babysitter. You suppose it doesn’t help that you also happen to be ridiculously in love with said best friend.

After one particular show, you found yourself back on the tour bus while the others went out to celebrate another successful show.

Just because you were Colson’s friend, didn’t mean that you didn’t have your part to play. You liked to feel useful so you took up a part time role, sharing managerial duties with Ashley. This time you found yourself working with Sam to provide visual content for the fans and ensure that Colson’s schedule was running smoothly.

When the quietness you’d been experiencing over the last couple of hours suddenly ends, You couldn’t help but internally roll your eyes. climbing out of your bunk you go to see what all the commotion was about.

You enter the main sitting space and your mouth swings open in shock. In front of you Colson’s face was caked in blood and his clothes were stained with the same substance Rook was laughing hysterically at him and Slim had a smirk on his face, which he attempts to cover when he sees the look on your face.

“What in the actual hell happened here?!” You exclaim.

“Y/N helloooooo”

Colson rushes over to try and embrace you but you hold him at arms length, not wanting to get covered in his blood.

“Look at this, how cool does this look!” He says giddily, jumping around like an overgrown puppy, trying to show the jagged cut that seems to run down his forehead.

“Oh yeah really cool, those bloodstained clothes really bring out your eyes.”

Colson looks at you with glassy eyes and a slightly confused expression on his face and a pout on this face.

“Are you being sarcastic?”

“Yes, of course I am being sarcastic! Get in there and let me stitch you up!” You shout out in frustration and worry. You leave him alone for one night and this happens!

Grabbing his hand you force yourself and his tall frame into the tiny bathroom cubicle, with the first aid kit under the sink.

Colson collapses down onto the toilet seat as you begin to clean his face.

He winces softly as you clean around the wound and begin to apply the temporary stitches.

“How did this even happen anyways?” You ask him as he fiddles with the loose threads on your jumper.

“Rook said I couldn’t do parkour over a car, so obviously I had to prove him wrong” he mumbles, the amounts of alcohol he had consumed during the night finally catching up with him.

You couldn’t help but sport a small smile on your face, because of course it was something just so stupid.

Once you were satisfied with your work, you pack away the first aid kit and attempt to pull him up but Colson just pulls you down easily onto his lap and wraps his long arms around your frame.

“You are that best person I know Y/N. I’m so lucky to have you as my friend”

How drunk are you?" You whisper as you lean against his chest.

“V...Very."

"Drunk enough not to remember tonight?” You asked curious.

Normally Colson’s memory no matter what he drinks is top tier.

"Hmm yeah, probably” he answers, resting his head on your shoulder.

At that response and the fact that you didn’t want him falling asleep in the tiniest toilet possible you stand up and grab is hand once more. He doesn’t protest when you lead him to the back of the bus to where his bedroom is.

He throws his weight into the bed and watch him crawl under the covers.

“Night Kells” you whisper and go to exit the room to head back to your own bunk.

Before you can make it through the sliding door, your best friend speaks up, his voice raspy and slightly needy.

“Stay with me?”

You hesitate at first, not really knowing If you could handle being that close to him for the entire night. Your heart was already beating twice as fast as it should, but you aren’t really great at denying Colson. You never was. So when a cracked, “please” leaves his mouth, you cave and climb under the covers with him.

It doesn’t take long for sleep to claim him but the same doesn’t happen for you. You’ve lost count of how many times you and Colson have shared a bed over the years but where he sees friendship, recently you’ve been struggling to stop the lines from blurring.

Colson wraps you up in his arms subconsciously, like he’s done so many times before, yet this time you find yourself frozen as you stare softy at his peaceful sleeping face.

“I love you Colson Baker. I love you and I'm tired of being just your best friend."

A tear escapes your eye, letting it fall, you wait for what feels forever for sleep to fall over you.

———————————————————

The next morning you are up and out of Colson’s room before he awakens and do your best to avoid him and any awkward conversations that the day might entail. You weren’t exactly to ready to find out if he remembered his night.

No one really picks up on your behaviour and you think you made it through the day perfectly, before Ashley corners you backstage at soundcheck.

“You like him don’t you? In fact it’s more than that … you are in love with him”

Knowing that you can’t hide the truth from your friend, you look her in the eye and give her a sad smile.

“He can never know that I like him."

"Why?" Ash questions you.

"Because I'm just one of million stars, and he's the moon, he deserves so much better that me”

You slightly cruse the tears that begin falling once more and do your best to wipe them without ruining your make up.

Ash gives you a soft smile and shakes her head.

“I’ve seen the say that boy looks at you. You may think he’s the moon but he looks at you like you’re the one holding his entire world. Last night should have been enough evidence! It was you he wanted to patch him up, it was you he wanted attention from and it you he wanted to hold. It’s always you. It’s not about what you can give him or what he can give you, it’s simply about the love that you share and the happiness you provide each other. He doesn’t want to be Mr international superstar with you. He just wants to be Colson, your Colson.”

After her little speech, Ashley leaves you alone as you try and process her words. But you weren’t alone for long as a voice behind you startles you.

“She’s right you know.”

You gasp and turn to fave the voice you knew all too well.

“Colson! What the hell?!”

“She’s right” he repeats.

“Right about what exactly?”

“You might think I’m the moon, but you are my whole world. You are more than just a star, so, so much more.”

“Colson…” you close your eyes, unsure on if you want to have this conversation, but realistically you knew there was no escape.

Colson stalks forward, invading your personal space and holds your chin in his fingers so that you are holding direct eye contact with each other.

“I heard you last night… your confession. I wasn’t really asleep and frankly I’m surprised I remembered this morning. In all honesty i was going to pretend until you felt ready to have the conversation but after hearing what you said to Ashley, well I couldn’t pretend anymore. I can’t believe it took me all these years to realise how I truly feel about you. I can’t believe it took stupid dare inflicted injury and a single moment in a tour bus bathroom for everything to fall into place”

With shaky hands, your fingers touched the small wound on his head and caressed it lightly.

Not trusting your voice, you whisper out a quick response, “I’m so happy it did”.

Colson takes that as cue to plant a kiss on you, a moment you felt as if you could live in forever, before he pulls away to look at you.

“I’ll love, protect and cherish you, forever. My best friend, my girlfriend, my everything.”

[ikigaisvt]

lucky

in which your boyfriend realizes how lucky he is to have you.

pairing: idol!jeonghan x gender neutral!reader words: 1.6k content: fluff, comfort warnings: jeonghan is exhausted/sad and he cries, petnames (for jeonghan: angel, babe, baby, love / for reader: precious), mention of food and eating. note 1.0: omg sammy posting smth?!?? thought we'd never see that again,,, felt like writing fluff lately since i feel there's a Lot of smut for seventeen so here i am feeding my own wishes note 2.0: this idea came after seeing the last inside seventeen where jeonghan looked tired at the end (and it's so unusual of him, to show how tough something is). also felt awful yesterday night, and instead of being comforted by him, i wished to comfort him. minors are allowed to interact but please don't follow. hope everyone likes it, please be nice i haven't wrote anything in month,, reblog/feedbacks are always appreciated!

Jeonghan has always felt lucky to be an idol. Of course, as any job does, it has its downsides – and this one has a lot, despite what he can say. He never once complained about his job, no matter what can happen. Being able to share his love for music to his fans, his brothers by his side is the biggest blessing of his life. That is well known to his family, his fans but mostly you, his partner, who hears him pours his heart out about his job until dawn.

However, there are days when it is harder than usual; days where practice or filming is so hard, he wishes to go home and sleep the worries away; days where he questions if he actually was made for that job. Today, that came in the form of a hard practice. What maybe Jeonghan hasn’t realized yet is how lucky he is to have you, especially at the end of a tough day.

 You haven’t seen your boyfriend a lot lately as he was busier than usual; preparing for his new comeback as well as going overseas to film content. However, as he has been back from Hungary a few days ago, you knew you’d be able to see him again today. You spent hours cleaning your apartment, cooking his favorite meals and stocking up on his favorite drinks, picking shows and music to listen to so you could spend the night talking, catching up together and laughing at the new memories he made. You were looking forward to it, but most importantly, you were looking forward to seeing him again. To feel his presence, to hear his voice and laugh and to be able to touch him. Oh, how much you missed him.

As you finished preparing everything for him, you were lounging on your couch, the TV playing quietly in the background. Looking at the hour on your phone, you realized it was almost 11pm – which meant you were only minutes away from seeing your boyfriend. Getting up from the couch, you went to the kitchen to warm up his meal. You started pulling out different plates – jajagmyeon, tangsuyuk, kimchi pancakes and tteokbokki. "Okay, maybe I made too much this time, but I just want him to eat well," you think out loud. While you were filling smaller plates with side dishes, you heard the door opening, signaling that your boyfriend was finally home. Leaving the food behind, you left the kitchen to find your boyfriend – disheveled, hair picking out in all ways and tiredness showing on his face, struggling to get his shoes off.

“Jeonghan,” you call out to him softly, his head lifting up to find your eyes. And that’s when you realize how tired he really is. His smile is meekly showing up, his hair looks like he ran his hand through it multiple times – which is something he does when he is frustrated, dark circles are showing under his eyes but mostly, his eyes look sad, the usual playful lightness in them gone. “Are you okay?” you ask, your hand reaching out to him to let him know he is not alone.

“I-” he starts, his voice breaking a little bit, before clearing his throat, “I’m okay, I just can’t seem to get my shoes off.” he says, bending once again to work on the shoelaces.

You watch him for only a few seconds before sitting on the little step in your entryway, “Here, let me help you,” you say, gently tapping the floor in front of you, silently telling him to put his feet forward as you chase his fingers away.

“Babe, no-” he starts protesting, his fingers brushing with yours, trying to untie the knot faster.

“Shh,” you say calmly, getting a hold of his fingers, squeezing and letting go to work on the knots again, his feet slightly moving towards you, “You really tightened those well. That’s good, don’t want you falling down on your shoelaces during practice.” You say lightly, trying to make your boyfriend lighten up. You get his first shoe off, placing it gently next to yours, before working on the second one. As you were almost done with the second knot, you feel something wet falling on your hand, and you look up to see Jeonghan looking down at you, eyes filled with tears.

“Hey, hey, hey,” you say, getting a hold of his hand, “You’re okay, it’s fine,” you reassure him, squeezing his fingers tighter as he looks away from you, ears slightly red from the embarrassment of crying in front of you, his girlfriend. That’s such a Jeonghan thing, you tell yourself, “Let me get this one off and then we’ll get you to the couch, okay?” you tell him, earning a little nod as an answer. You get his second shoe off in record time and gently get up from the ground as you reach out for his hand, pulling him behind you as you lead him to the living room.

Reaching the couch, you make him sit down first before sitting down next to him, pulling your linked hands on your lap, your thumb slightly caressing his hand, “Are you okay?” you ask gently, trying to find his eyes but all he does is look down at his lap.

“I’m okay- Sorry about all this, practice was hard and I know you were excited about having a good time but stuffs happened and yeah-” he starts ranting as you listen intently to whatever he has to say, “Ah, sorry again. I’m rambling. I’m okay,” he says again, almost as he tries to convince himself, too, “Really.” He confirms as he meets your eyes, his smile not even reaching his cheeks.

“Love, you may be able to lie to your members but this doesn’t work with me,” you chuckle slightly, “What can I do?”

“I-” he starts, blush creeping on his neck again, his eyes looking around the room, “Will you hold me?” he whispers, hoping you heard him right as he finds your eyes again.

“Of course, angel,” you say as you lean back on the couch, opening your arms for him, his head finding a place to rest on your chest, “Let’s just stay like that for a little while, hm?” you whisper as you start running your fingers through his hair, “You can tell me anything, in case you need to pour it out.”

A few minutes passes by where you can only hear his soft breath – and little sniffles, his body slightly relaxing into yours as if it realizes it’s now finally home. “Practice was so hard today,” he says softly, his arm squeezing your waist a little more, your shirt getting wet with more tears, “That new choreography requires so much attention to details and we need to keep our energy up throughout all of it. I guess I wasn’t prepared to put that much work in it today.” He sighs as you let him know you’re still listening through little hums, “And we’ve just been back from Hungary, my body is still used to that time zone so I have a hard time sleeping. Also, I’ve missed you so I haven’t been able to recharge my batteries at all.” He admits, knowing he would have felt better if he saw you more in the past month.

“I’ve missed you too,” you tell him, leaving a little kiss on the top of his head.

“I’m sorry,” he apologizes again, “For my mood and for ruining tonight.” He says softly, as more tears fall down.

“Baby, angel,” you say, your voice almost breaking to seeing your boyfriend like this, “Please don’t ever be sorry. Your job is not easy, you’re doing so much at all times and you do it well. It’s only normal for you to break down from time to time,” you whisper, running your fingers down his back, “I am so glad you decided to still come to me. It means the world. Please always come to me,” you tell him as he looks up at you, “Anytime you break down, I’ll help you build yourself up stronger, okay? You didn’t ruin anything, you’ll never do so. Your presence is always welcomed, no matter your mood. I love you so much.”

“I love you too, precious.” He says, as he gets up a little to meet your lips. You can taste the sadness – and the saltiness of his tears – on his lips as you take it away from him, take everything bad away from him, lodging it deep in your own body. So it can never hurt him again. You kiss once, you kiss twice, you kiss thrice; you kiss until there is no more sadness within him. You kiss until he can feel how you will always be here for him.

“Feeling better?” you question as you pull away from his lips, brushing hair out of his face and meeting his now shining eyes.

“Very much so,” he chuckles lightly, his forehead resting on yours, “Thank you,” he says, leaving a kiss on your forehead before finding rest on your shoulder.

“Wanna eat now?” you ask, still running your fingers along his back.

“Yes actually,” he says, looking up at you, “I’m so hungry,” he says in a whisper, still making no attempt to move away from you.

 “I made so much, I hope you’ll love it,” you answer him, still not getting up either.

“Let’s just- Let’s just stay like this for a little longer, hm?” he tells you, wrapping his arms around your middle, cuddling even closer – if that’s even possible, “Food can wait.”

Jeonghan truly feels lucky to be an idol – on most days, at least. But if he had to mention one thing, he feels the luckiest about – it’s to be your boyfriend.

aaaaa thank you so much for reading! i forgot how nervewracking it was to post something- please like, reblog, comment and i'll love you forever!!

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

Unexpected 44

Warnings: non/dubcon, pregnancy, pegging, Lloyd being the worst, post partum, csection, suicidial ideation, and other dark elements. My username actually says you never asked for any of this.

My warnings are not exhaustive but be aware this is a dark fic and may include potentially triggering topics. Please use your common sense when consuming content. I am not responsible for your decisions.

As usual, I would appreciate any and all feedback. I’m happy to once more go on this adventure with all of you! Thank you in advance for your comments and for reblogging.

The smell of popcorn is like home. You don’t really have one of those. No, you just exist in Lloyd’s space, occupy the role he’s assigned to you, the one he’s abandoned you to. But that buttery aroma, the salty taste, is familiar and longlost. You can’t remember the last time you were in a theatre, or the last time you were excited.

You are. You are almost ecstatic to be there. To be away from the house for a few more hours. You lead Andy down the aisle and find your row, following the curve to your numbered seats. As you glance over at him and sit in the cushiony leather chair, you almost forget about everything outside the dark theatre.

For an instant, you could pretend you’re on a date with a cute guy. Again, when was the last time that happened? When was the last time Colin took you out? You always planned date nights and it was like dragging a cat to the bathtub. And Lloyd, those weren’t dates, those were humiliation. This isn’t a date either.

You balance your bag of popcorn in your lap and place your cup in the holder set into the leather arm. You feel along the chair and find the button, reclining halfway as you get comfortable. Andy bends his arm over the shared arm rest, picking at his popcorn as the previews begin.

“This is nice,” he whispers. You don’t know why he is, the place is empty. It’s a midday matinee in the middle of the week.

“Yeah,” you agree, “I miss movies.”

“Oh yeah? I prefer the drive-in,” he leans over a little closer, “used to pack up the car, a cooler of drinks and snacks, and take the whole family…” he sighs wistfully, “it was fun. I miss it.”

You’re quiet. Unsure how to answer, you pop a few kernels in your mouth and chew. You swallow and feel a pang, the most you’ve felt in at least a month.

“I’m sorry, Andy…”

“Don’t be. Please. I was lucky, I got good years out of it and I hold onto them,” he rolls a piece of popcorn between his fingers and drops it back with the rest, “not everyone is lucky enough to have that even.”

You feel as if he’s talking about you. It isn’t a surprise. You haven’t been subtle. You’re miserable and Lloyd’s presence screams in everyone’s face. You’re as good as a single mother.

“I’m sure Lloyd will show up soon,” Andy says, “how could he not? With a wife and daughter waiting on him. No man could resist.”

“Please,” you scoff, “I don’t wanna think about it. I want to just forget for a little bit.”

“Yeah, I know what that feels like too,” he sits back, “deal. We’re not us for the next two hours. We’re just two friends enjoying a movie.”

“That sounds amazing,” you breathe and grab another handful of popcorn, “wish we could stay forever.”

🧸

Twenty minutes in, you roll up the top of the mostly empty bag. You set it to one side of your seat and lean back against the leather chair. You yawn as you try to focus on the plot of the movie. You didn’t see the original so it’s all new to you.

You shift around, trying to get comfortable as you feel a tingle around your eyes. You’re tired and the darkness isn’t help. You lean on one elbow and yawn again. You cradle your head as you focus on the actors, trying to lose yourself in the world of cinema.

You don’t know when it happens, there’s a scene on a train, and then the world is gray. You slump over and doze off, falling into a swirl of reams, a mesh of your reality and the movie. The thrumming soundtrack seeps through but doesn’t break your slumber.

You wake only as a sudden boom crack from the surround sound. Your eyes snap open as you find your head propped against a warm pillow. Your arm is slung across the leather as you hug Andy’s and your head is propped up just against his shoulder.

“Oh,” you pull away, “I’m so sorry.”

“Nah, don’t worry,” he chuckles, “you’re tired. It’s fine.”

“Yeah, I… I guess,” you rub your eyes and try to sit up.

“I don’t mind,” he insists and reaches across the armrest, rubbing your back, “you got a little one waiting to keep you up at home. Movie’s boring anyway.”

You look down and sniff. His touch is comforting even if unexpected. You slowly let yourself lean into him again and he wiggles to get closer on his side. You put your head on his shoulder again, “thanks.”

“No problem,” he says softly.

You sit like that for a while. Your eyes won’t close that time. You’re too aware of his heat, of his scent, of how nice it feels to have his hand just behind your hip. You watch the movie lazily beneath your lashes as his fingers move mindlessly along your side, a soothing up and down.

Your heart swells as your eyes haze. You’re so stupid. Don’t even think of it. You’re gross and old and ugly. He’s just being nice and you’re just desperate.

You tilt your head up to look at Andy. It takes him a moment before he returns your gaze, the blue hue of the screen limning his features. His brows draw together curiously. You raise yourself just a little and bring your hand up to feel the soft pelt of his beard. He shudders.

You press your lips to his. It’s electric and tinged with a sliver of instant regret. Before you can pull away, his hand travels up your back. He catches the back of your head with his other and keeps you angled awkwardly over the arm of the seat.

You give in. You let yourself fall into the moment. You forget about everything else and squeeze your eyes shut tight. You’re not a sad old divorce, you’re not a neglected wife, you’re that girl who used to make out in dark theatres until her head spun.

You drag your hand down his neck and feel the firm muscle of his chest. He rubs up and down your back, squeezing your side. You’re reminded of the extra weight but he doesn’t relent. You devour each other until your breathless.

When he finally lets you go, you sit back and stare forward. He does too. You languish in tense silence as the movie ends and the credits roll. It’s as if you’re both stunned.

“I’m married,” you utter grimly.

He nods and leans forward, elbows on his knees, “I know.”

“I have a child.”

“Know that too.”

“I’m broken.”

He’s quiet. He lets out a gritty exhale and clicks his tongue, “no, you’re not. The asshole left you, you’re hurt.”

“It doesn’t make it right.”

He sniffs and sits up, pushing his shoulders back, “did it feel wrong?”

The question hangs between you. You can’t answer him. You can’t bear to tell the truth but you know he felt it too. It’s not something magical like love, but it’s something simple and base. It’s loneliness and need. It’s two people abandoned in different ways, coming together in a carnal commiseration.

You slide to the front of the seat and stand, gathering up your trash. Andy does the same, not saying a word. This time, you trail him up the row and into the aisle. You catch up to him, walking parallel as you take the low steps towards the back of the theatre.

“We should go to the drive-in some time,” you suggest, “triple showing…”

He stops by the bin to dump his garbage, and takes yours to drop it in too. Then, he surprises you. He puts his arm over your shoulders and ushers you through the door, into the bright lights of the lobby. You feel the tension in him, rigid, almost quaking.

“You think Dottie will let you stay out past curfew?“ He goads.

“It won’t be the first time I’ve snuck out after dark,” you giggle.

[theweightofakiteofdreamsingold]

Promise (1) – J. Kiszka

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, mature themes, virgin reader, teary-eyed Josh, fluff, unprotected sex (almost), oral sex (fem receiving) (almost), language, MINORS DNI

A/N: All these posts circulating about Josh leaning into people’s hands while they held him in Detroit inspired this fic. It’s gonna be some softie, first-time-ever smut with Josh, the V-card thief. 🥹

Bajabule,

-Han

“Is that thunder?” you asked, pausing to listen for the faint grumbling in the distance.

Josh paused to listen as well, his deep brown eyes fixed on the ever-darkening clouds above you. “I think so, but I didn’t see any lightning.”

The wind had started to pick up along the river where you and Josh had been kayaking with Jake, Sam, and Danny. You watched Josh as he paddled over to a big rock that was close to the bank, taking hold of it to still himself against the tugging current of the river. He looked up at the sky again, his brows furrowed in concentration.

After a moment, he paddled back out to you and the rest of the boys. “Looks like whatever this is is moving this way toward us. We should probably head out.”

The boys all muttered in agreement, and you all began to paddle downstream to look for a place to get out of the water. You’d been out on the river for at least half the day, but you were still bummed to have to go. Being with Josh and his brothers always lightened your mood.

You’d been seeing Josh for a few months now, and things seemed to be moving in a good direction. You spent a lot of time with him doing mundane things; going shopping at more farmer’s markets than you’d ever been to, visiting more record shops than you knew existed, and just keeping each other company when you had nothing else to do.

Josh was also a huge film enthusiast, so the two of you spent an abundant amount of time curled up on his couch watching movies of so many genres while Josh shared his thoughts on each one in real-time. You loved hearing him share how his mind worked, and you felt lucky to be able to have a peek at how he processed information. He was the most intelligent man you’d ever met, but it never felt intimidating to you. His brain and his heart ran on the same track, and everything he did and said was coming from a place filled with love.

Josh was tentative and understanding. He was soft. He had moments where you definitely questioned his thought processes, and he could be extremely impulsive and wild, but if the situation ever called for maturity, all of his antics disappeared in the blink of an eye.

“Y/N,” Josh called, “you okay?”

Your brain caught up to your surroundings, and you never realized how far behind you’d fallen. You looked around you, and all the boys were a solid ten yards ahead of you.

“Yep, I’m- I’m good,” you called back, hastening the pace of your strides until you made up a little ground. Danny and Sam shared a tandem kayak, while you and the twins each had your own sit-ons, freeing up a set of hands to carry Josh’s kayak while he carried yours. You watched him as he shifted the weight of it over his head as he walked, watching the taut muscles of his arms as he did so.

Once you had all made it to where the cars were parked, the boys began securing everyone’s kayaks and paddles for the trip back home. Just as soon as they started on the first one though, you heard a monotonous rustling of the leaves in the woods around you. As the sound grew louder, you realized that it was rain, and that it was moving in a lot quicker than any of you had anticipated.

When it reached the lot of you, it was falling from the sky in a steady, but extremely heavy downpour. They boys made quick work of the rest of the kayaks, and before you knew it, you were all in your cars waving goodbye to each other behind tinted glass.

You were in Josh’s Jeep truck, shivering in the passenger seat as his hands moved swiftly over the temperature controls, doing his best to warm you up as quickly as he could.

As the shock of the cold rain wore off, you looked over at him and had to fight to keep your jaw from hanging slack. The usually puffy curls of his mullet sat closer to his head now in dripping ringlets. The water from his hair dripped onto his forehead and you watched the droplets make paths down the bridge of his nose to its tip before collecting together and dropping off, only to be caught by the pointed crests of his lips. The rest of his face glistened from being directly hit by the rain outside. You let your eyes travel down his neck which also glistened in what was left of the dim daylight to his shirt that was completely soaked through. You’d never thought anything of the fact that he practically lived in white shirts until now, and you couldn’t say you were disappointed in his color choice. You could see the curves of the muscles in his chest, more prominent now because of the cotton fabric that clung to his chilled skin. You wanted nothing more than to peel off his shirt and run your hands over his body; just to bask in him.

The thoughts running through your mind sent pangs of anxiety straight to your stomach. You’d never felt a yearning this strong for anyone you’d been with, but the fear of what he would say or how he would react to the fact that you were still a virgin overpowered your need for him.

You sat in the passenger side of his truck fighting an internal battle between reality and what you wanted with every fiber of your being. Your mind talked itself in circles the majority of the way back to his house. As he pulled into the driveway, you wondered what sort of thoughts were running through his mind.

At some point on the drive to his house, the rain had stopped, but you didn’t notice until the truck was shifted into park. Josh got out and came around to open your door for you. After he opened it, he paused, a grin spreading across his still-shiny face; his teeth shining in the light of the moon while the darkness hid most of the rest of his features.

“Come on, mama. Let’s get you warm and dry, huh?”

He offered his hand to you, and you took it, following him up the front steps to the door. As soon as the two of you were inside, Josh went on a hunt for towels and washcloths. He emerged from the hall with bath linens in one arm and a sweatshirt and a pair of boxer shorts in the other. His hair had started to dry, but the same couldn’t be said for his clothes.

“Here. I thought you might wanna take a hot shower to warm up, and I can dry your clothes for you if you want.” His brown eyes were sap-sweet and sparkling at you, his lips tilting up and a small smile.

“I’d love that so much,” you said quietly. “You’re the sweetest.” He handed you the towels and clothes, and you padded off to the bathroom.

Once you’d stripped off your wet clothes, you turned the water as hot as it would go, and you stepped inside. The air immediately felt thick from the dense moisture of the scalding water, and you welcomed it into your lungs, letting the water consume you entirely.

You heard the door of the bathroom creak, and you froze, naked and hot, under the shower head. Your breath caught in your throat as you watched Josh’s shadow through the thick plastic and second decorative shower curtains. His figure paused for a moment before picking up your pile of wet clothes and leaving the bathroom to toss them in the dryer.

Your heart beat faster the more you thought about the way he paused a moment before. You let your mind drift into what could have happened. He could have waited there. Waiting for you. You could have opened the shower curtain, wordlessly inviting him in. You could have had him right there if you had just done it. Just ripped off the band aid and opened that shower curtain. But you couldn’t. You were scared. Of what, you had no idea.

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

After your shower, you towel-dried your hair and ran your fingers through it to get out the tangles. You slipped on the sweatshirt and boxer shorts he gave you, feeling apprehensive about not having any underwear while they tumbled in the dryer with the rest of your clothes. A heavy scent of sandalwood and patchouli wafted into your nose and made your chest feel warm. You took a deep breath, pushing your nerves as far down as possible before exiting the bathroom and walking up the hall to find Josh flipping through movies on TV.

“How do you feel?” he asked, “Warmer?”

You nodded, giving him a small smile before plopping yourself down beside him on the couch. He leaned back, one hand resting on the top of your thigh while he looked at you.

You watched his fingertips gently draw circles on your freshly warmed skin while his eyes trailed over your entire body, his lips turning up into another soft grin.

“What?” you asked, a smile spreading across your own lips in return.

His dark eyes flicked up to your face and he huffed a bit of air through his nose before he spoke, “I just really like the way you look in my underwear.”

You both giggled and you replied, “Well I didn’t have much of a choice, did I?”

He gave your thigh a little squeeze before moving his hand further up your leg. “I mean, there’s always another option,” he said, giving you an exaggerated look.

You rolled your eyes and grinned as he shifted next to you.

“Hey, can I ask you something?” he asked, focusing back on your leg.

“Mhm.”

“What were you thinking about on the way home?”

“What do you mean?”

“I don’t know, you’re usually never quiet like that. I figured something was going on. Just wanted to make sure you’re okay.”

You paused, wanting to tell him that your were fine, but the images of him sitting soaking wet beside you in the truck and standing in the bathroom, coupled with figmented images of him between your legs and pressed against your chest flashed through your mind, and you found yourself speaking without realizing what you were saying.

You noticed that your breath felt heavy as you tried to stop the river of words that flowed from your mouth.

“I just want- I- I don’t know how to-.” You stumbled and tripped through fragments of thoughts.

You immediately felt his hands gently holding the sides of your face, his eyes warm and welcoming to you as he spoke, coaxing you to speak through your fear. “Tell me, sweet baby,” he purred, “What do you want?”

You swallowed hard. “You.”

His thumbs swept across the crests of your cheekbones. “You’ve already got me, baby.”

“No. Not- not like that,” you said, your voice moving into a whisper.

His lips sat parted as he processed what you were telling him. After a moment, he spoke. “How come you didn’t say anything before?”

“Because I’m fucking scared,” you said, an unintentional chuckle escaping mid-word.

“Of me?”

“No,” you started, the word a little more exaggerated than you meant for it to be, “not like you’d do something to me, I was just nervous to tell you that-.” You watched his brow furrow as he tilted his head, anxiously waiting for you to finish your sentence. “That I’ve never- I’m-.”

Every single feature of his face softened and you could have sworn you could see a tear or two in his eyes. His hands slid up your cheeks as he rested his thumbs against your temples with his other fingers in your hair, and he pulled you to his mouth in a needy kiss. He completely enveloped your bottom lip, lightly sucking it further into his mouth before he ran his tongue along its edge. His hands slightly tightened in your hair, gently pulling on the roots, making you shift against him, wanting more.

You slipped your arms around his neck and moved to sit in his lap, a knee on either side of his hips. He pulled you closer, taking a hand from your hair and smoothing it over your back as he artfully slipped his tongue between your parted lips. He continued with his tongue until you broke the kiss, pulling back from his mouth and taking a big breath.

His eyes stayed trained on you the entire time as you heaved against him. He leaned back up into you and touched the tip of his nose to yours.

“You’re sure you want this?” he panted, his voice thick and raspy.

“Yes,” you breathed back, your hands resting on the waistband of his sweatpants.

You felt his arms wrap around you and scoop you up, walking you down the hall to the master bedroom.

He carefully sat you on the end of the bed, and you quickly found his waistband again. You could see the bulge in his sweatpants from where his cock was pressed against the thick fabric. You swallowed hard as you hooked your fingers around the band and pulled down, watching the tip of his solid cock hit his lower stomach.

You felt a warm sensation spread between your legs as you marveled at him, noting the pronounced indentations of his hips and the length and girth of his cock. You squeezed your legs together as thoughts of how deep inside you he would be able to reach filled your head, making your pussy throb just by the sight of him. “Fuck,” you muttered, barely audible.

He gingerly tilted your head up to look at him. “What’s wrong, mama?”

“Nothing,” you said, swallowing hard again, “you’re j-just really f-fucking big. What- what do we do if it doesn’t fit?”

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth and but down on it softly, unsuccessfully hiding a smug grin. “It’ll fit. I promise.”

You raised your eyebrows at him, dramatically glancing from his face, down to his cock, and back up again.

His hands reached down and held your hips, swiftly lifting them up, laying you out on your back. You yelped at the quick movement and propped yourself up on your elbows. Josh hooked his fingers into the waistband of the boxer shorts you were wearing, his eyes trained on yours, waiting.

Your eyes widened, not sure of what was happening. He bent down and placed an open-mouthed kiss on your lower stomach before lifting his head just enough to be able to look up at you. You moaned at the sight of his soft brown eyes looking at you from between your legs; a sight that had been plaguing your mind for some time. He looked even more beautiful doing it in real life than you could have ever imagined.

“Lemme get you ready, mama. Let you cum in my mouth so you can get a taste for it? Hm? Lemme get a taste for you at the same time?” He punctuated his last question with a series of sloppy kisses to the insides of your thighs.

“Oh my God, Josh,” you breathed.

“Can I take that as a ‘yes?’”

“Yes.”

He immediately tugged the boxers down your legs and tossed them into the floor. He stooped down to stand on his knees in front of you, pulling you closer to the edge of the bed again. He gently laid your legs over his shoulders and leaned in close enough for you to feel his breath on your heat. He paused there, his big brown eyes locking with yours again. “Listen close,” he started, “You want me to stop at any time, you stop me, okay?”

You nodded, your eyes wide again.

“Promise me, mama.”

“I promise.”

[wishcamper]

Nessian Week Day 3 - Symphony

For the third day of @nessianweek, here's a sweet lil snip of post-canon domestic Nessian.

Photo is of Old Town in Dubrovnik, Croatia, which is how I always picture Velaris.

Read here or on ao3!

Five More Minutes

Post-ACOSF slice of life of Nesta enjoying the sounds of the morning (and avoiding getting up).

’T is you that are the music, not your song. The song is but a door which, opening wide, Lets forth the pent-up melody inside, Your spirit’s harmony, which clear and strong Sing but of you. 

- 'Listening', Amy Lowell

—-

Dawn breaks, cresting the mountains, light spilling over the world. Velaris comes alive in fits and starts, and the harbor bell clangs as sailors bring in their first catch of the day, gulls crying out their envy overhead. The world is waking around her, but Nesta keeps her eyes closed beneath the heavy coverlet. Her stubbornness refuses to entertain the day, not yet.

Cassian seems to agree, though he’ll never admit it. A groan rumbles somewhere behind her, incoherent mumblings of her mate rousing, emerging from the depths of sleep into the day. Nesta hears the slide of sheets, a rustle of wings, then a muffling as he drapes one over her, cocooned for a moment while he presses closer and noises of lazy contentment fill her ear.

He’s warm, always, a furnace in their bed. They both remember the cold too well to sleep any way but right up next to each other, especially on mornings like this, when the air inside carries the chill of late autumn.

“Morning, sweetheart,” he says, his deep voice thick and fuzzy.

She pretends to be asleep, partly because she wishes she still was, but mostly to draw this out as long as possible. To hear the sweet murmurings Cassian pours over her when he believes her most unguarded, when he tries to reach her dreams.

A broad hand strokes up her side, coming to rest across her stomach. Careful, so as not to wake her. “Fuck, you smell good. And you're so soft. I’m so lucky to wake up next to you.”

Words she’d roll her eyes at in the day, especially if someone else were to overhear, pretty declarations easy enough to toss like flower petals. But in seclusion they manage to travel the distance between his lips and her ear without losing their potency, and Nesta feels them sink in, loosening a muscle in her shoulder.

“Beautiful Nes. You’re so precious to me.”

Cassian holds her for a bit longer, and she listens to the steady tide of his breath so slow and even. It’s punctuated every now and then by his sighs of pleasure, evidence of the way she softens him too in this quiet, liminal place that’s only theirs. 

After a time he rises, the bed’s creaking followed by a thump of the House producing his training leathers. Water runs in the bathing chamber, a splash in the sink, then the scrape of a comb through unruly hair before the endless series of clasps and buckles. Nesta can picture in her mind where each one sits, the high ping of the clip at his shoulder, hard snaps at his sides where the back panel secures to accommodate his wings. Cassian hums under his breath as he dresses, some tune she can’t place, though it might’ve drifted from her symphonia sometime the evening before. The well-worn sofa groans when he sits to don his boots.

The sequence is the same most mornings, but memories still haunt Nesta in these moments of ease, phantoms skulking about in her periphery. It’s hard to forget how she used to wake all at once, like an arrow shot through the morning air, to the cacophony of her mother screeching at a house servant. Or else the horrible quiet that followed, the dense void of her absence.

She woke mustily in the summer in the hovel they called home, the drone of insects and the rank, still air, Elain’s trowel piercing the earth under the windowsill. In colder months there was nothing but the roar of the wind, whistles through the chinks, the grind of her own teeth from trying not to shiver.

All of it was better than waking in the dead of night to Feyre’s pleading, heavy thuds of the clubs and bone crunching, their father’s wretched silence. Then years later the door splintering, the growling of a great beast.

At the funeral for her old life she woke to the rip of curtains around her bed, shouts and taunts as they yanked her drowsy and disoriented from the sheets, from the manor, from her body. Then the fatal press of water in her ears, poison boiling, her own choked snarls of rage.

After that came a long series of mornings that were not actually mornings at all, afternoons when she rose sticky with sweat, a pounding headache like war drums rattling her skull. Days she prayed to stop hearing the snap of her father’s neck in the fire, the ghosts of the past wailing for retribution. Nights when solace lived only in the shuffle of cards, the glug of wine into a waiting glass. The moans of another faceless male.

Yet even in the darkness there was music. Ever since she was a girl, a tune plays at the edge of her dreams that she can’t quite catch, can never quite remember. Always the same, always soft and close, as if someone lays beside her, filling her with safety and peace.

Now the world is quiet, within and without. Nesta barely notices she’s drifted back into sleep, so she’s surprised when heavy footsteps approach her side of the bed. There’s a clink when the House places a cup and saucer on the bedside table, tea she knows will stay perfectly warm until she’s ready to rise herself. Her legs shift, whispering against the sheets as they search for the heated spot Cassian always leaves behind.

“You're so beautiful like this," he murmurs, brushing stray hairs from her forehead. "Go back to sleep, sweetheart.”

She hears the smile in his voice, the tenderness he saves just for her. The kisses he drops on her face are like the patter of spring rain, his rumbling laugh the answering thunder when she presses her cheek against his lips so she can really feel them.

Her fae ears pick up conversation in the hallway, Azriel and Gwyn either coming or going, though it’s impossible to tell which. Cassian’s leathers creak as he sits up but she feels him linger there, the rasp of a calloused hand stroking up and down her back. 

“I hope you have a good day. I love you.”

He traces the point of her ear, tugging lightly at the lobe before he stands and his footsteps retreat. Then the snick of the door, their friends greeting him on the landing, Emerie’s voice now joining the chorus.

She doesn’t ever want to stop listening to this, Nesta thinks, these sounds of home. Dawn chases away the phantoms and no one screeches or pleads or drowns in silence. All is in harmony, now the music of her life feels worth waking to hear.

In the moment before her eyes open, a tune floats by from the edge of her dreams, the same one Cassian was humming. It sounds as if someone is beside her in bed, soft, and close.

[bucky-barnes-diaries]

The Light In My Darkness

Pairing || TFATWS!Bucky x Female!Reader

Summary || The darkness has it’s hold on you. It’s tightness suffocating. It’s darkness numbing. You search the endless depths for salvation, yet you find yourself alone. But there will soon come a moment when a beacon of light shines it’s way for you to resurface from the pitch black depth.

Word Count || 1501

Contents & Warnings || Angst, light Fluff — mature content/language, depression, mental health, mention of suicide.

Authors Note || It’s been a few months since I last posted. I fell into a pretty dark depression that really fucked me up for months. I’m slowly starting to recover from it, and I’m excited to write and post again and also feel more like myself . Sorry to come back with such an angsty story. This is the only story that I wrote over those months, and I have put some real stuff that went through my head during those months. It felt good to put some of those thoughts into writing and combine them with one of my comforts which is Bucky. So please be advised that this story does contain some depression stuff and mention of suicide.

Disclaimer || English is not my first language so I apologise for any mistakes or misunderstandings!

TFATWS!Bucky Masterlist

The weight of emptiness pulls you deeper each day that passes, its grip on you tightening as it drags you toward the depths of its darkness. And you are so aware that its power will consume you entirely, eat you from the inside, leaving you weak and vulnerable to its insatiable hunger. The darkness so treacherous that escape will seem almost impossible.

You feel entirely shattered and numb. The once vibrant life you had, such as your job, responsibilities, friends, and most importantly, Bucky and Alpine, now feels almost lifeless. The once passion you had for your beautiful life is now reduced to nothing. All that remains is the desire to crawl into a deep, dark hole and disappear, hoping that the suffocating darkness will claim you quickly.

Despite the emptiness within, you still try to maintain a brave and normal facade for those around you. But your boyfriend, the one closest to your heart, senses and sees the cracks in the facade you’ve put up. He sees the destruction of your former self, reduced to nothing more than an empty shell.

Bucky, with his caring and tender nature for you, wants to help. But you push him away, scared that you may drag him down as well. You don’t want to darken his light with your darkness.

However, there comes a time when everyone breaks down into pieces, and it’s left up to the loved ones to pick up the fragile fragments and mend them with tender and loving care.

---

As you drag yourself up the steps to your front door, the mask of a fake smile and false happiness you wore for work fades away. Instead replaced by the overwhelming despair that haunts your soul. You can no longer keep it up, and you know that Bucky will shower you with his love in an attempt to ease your pain.

“Hey, doll. Welcome home,” Bucky greets you with a tender kiss on the forehead. His hands linger on your waist, gently squeezing as a sign of affection and protection. Alpine purrs in delight and welcomes you home by weaving and rubbing against your legs.

Bucky’s warm touch and a tender kiss would once have your heart flutter into a billion butterflies, making you jump him in excitement, and a cuddle session on the couch would ensure with loving kisses shared between one another as you recovered from your workday. But now, with the darkness holding its tight grip on you, you can’t fully enjoy and appreciate his gorgeous self, which fills you with guilt. Deep down, you know that you love Bucky with all your being. He’s the perfect individual, the kind anyone would be lucky to have. But you struggle to feel the love he so generously pours upon you now. The realization of this causes tears to well up, along with a profound sense of shame.

“How was work, baby?” Bucky’s eyes, once melting and soft, fixates on your empty and dim ones. His now somber ones scan you from head to toe, sensing you are far from your former self. He knows you are having difficulties, that you are tired, but he’s unaware of the full extent of it and doesn’t know how deep it goes. He does his best to help and reassure you daily, but you cannot sense his efforts. The darkness has buried your emotions so deep within.

“It was fine, babe. Just exhausting,” you respond, attempting to reassure him with a smile that doesn’t quite reach your eyes. He can tell that you are withholding the whole truth.

“Doll, what’s wrong? You haven’t been yourself recently. I’m here for you, baby. I want to help,” his voice rasps as he cups your cheeks, stroking your skin. His brows furrow, his gaze piercing deep into your soul, hoping to uncover the cause of your recent changes.

The love and care he has for you are so evident, making your heart skip a beat and you so long to throw yourself into his arms, allowing him to shower you with his affection and reassurance that everything will be alright. But the darkness is keeping you on a tight leash.

“Nothing’s wrong,” you lie, and he can so easily see through it.” “I-I’m just tired. I think I’ll take a nap.”

As you lie in the darkness of your bedroom, staring at the ceiling, your mind is empty of thoughts. You feel cold and empty, much like the air surrounding you. One terrifying thought, a whisper that lurks in your darkness, tries to surface: I don’t want to live anymore.

During the day, you try your best to suppress that thought, forcefully pushing it deep down. But with each passing day, it grows stronger. And now, in the confines of your dark and cold bedroom, it solidifies into a haunting possibility—an escape from the torment. I don’t want to live anymore. “… but I don’t want to die,” you whisper, turning to your side with a heavy sigh. It’s all so overwhelming and exhausting, and you have never felt so trapped and helpless before. How can I possibly recover from this? Will I ever recover from this? Am I doomed to this darkness forever until it eventually consumes me?

Sometime later, a knock on the bedroom door pierces the silence, and a sliver of light illuminates the room's darkness as Bucky enters, the chime of Alpine’s collar following close behind. Neither of you utters a word. He closes the door gently, ensuring the light doesn’t disturb you. In the room's dimness, you hear him navigate through it, going to the shared bed and settling in behind you. His warm, sturdy frame presses against your back while his arms envelop you, and his face nestles into the nape of your neck, inhaling deeply, savoring your scent before placing a tender kiss on your skin. Alpine joins the comfort, snuggling at your feet with a soft purr.

Even with these two beings, who love you unconditionally, nestled close to you, it barely dulls and heals the emptiness inside, but it makes your heart skip a beat again. A moment of silence ensues, the only sounds being your synchronized breathing and the gentle purring from Alpine.

“Doll,” Bucky murmurs, his voice soft and delicate, squeezing you ever so slightly tighter to convey the depth of his love for you. “Please, tell me what’s wrong. Let me inside your pain. Don’t slip away from me. I’m here to help. I’ll be by your side every step of the way.”

The desperation, sadness, and defeat in his voice finally shatter you, breaking down your defenses, making you finally release all that pain and sorrow, erupting into tears and sobs.

“I’m so fucking tired, Bucky,” you sob violently into the pillow. “I’m so fucking done with everything. I feel so empty, so lost. I can’t do this anymore. The darkness has such a tight hold on me, and I feel myself suffocating more and more each day that follows.” Your cries intensify, your body shaking in his embrace. “I don’t have the will to live anymore, but I don’t want to die either. Please help me. I’m so lost, Bucky.” You continue to weep and sob into the sheets while Bucky holds you tighter, tears streaming down his face as well, wetting your neck.

You don’t know how long you cry, releasing all that has built up over the past few weeks. Five minutes? Ten? Fifteen? Twenty? Eventually, exhaustion takes hold of you. Your throat feels dry and hoarse, your eyes burn, and your body feels heavy and weak.

Throughout it all, Bucky remains silent, cradling and comforting you. The weight of your dark confession impacting him deeply, evident in his strained voice—a testament that he’s been crying alongside you.

“I wish I could take all your emptiness and pain away, doll.” His voice laced with vulnerability and determination. “I wish we lived in a fairytale where my words could magically heal your soul and restore your happiness. But this is reality, and I know my words alone will not heal and destroy that darkness. But I want you to know I’m here, baby, and I’ll always be here. I will fight for you, fight beside you. I’ll forever be the light that shines in your darkest moments. I promise I will help you. I promise we will get you professional help. I love you so much, my doll.”

Bucky’s words feel like the salvation you’ve yearned for—the help you desperately need. It’s the promise that gives you hope. Your hand, which has been searching in the darkness for so long, has finally found a lifeline—a beacon of light that shines bright in your darkness.

Thank you for reading 🖤 Feedback through a comment is highly appreciated! Or let me know through an anonymous ask if that feels more comfortable. As well as a reblog to share my work with other people!

Follow @bucky-barnes-diaries-library and turn on notifications to never miss out on my writing!

[faithforgottens]

𝒅𝒓𝒂𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒉𝒆𝒂𝒓𝒕𝒔 𝒊𝒏 𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒃𝒚𝒍𝒊𝒏𝒆.

from the writer’s desk: i’d tell you i started this a year ago after deciding i needed closure on post - crying on newport beach about how i’m incapable of being loved but that would mean me unloading all over the dash, and nobody needs that. i’m just a girl, out here projecting like tomorrow’s not coming, and thought i’d share. please know that i love carol, i just had to pick a character that i didn’t have strong emotional attachment to in order to play my villain. motivation to continue this would be much appreciated, thnx.  summary: you’ve been stuck in carol’s web for nearly four months now, and you need a distraction before you go postal and commit a capital crime or worse, tell her you love her. fortunately for you, natasha’s willing to offer her services. contains: college!natasha x female reader —— warnings include toxic relationship dynamics that involve infidelity, gaslighting and cheating, marijuana use, alcohol consumption, nsfw content [ fingering, dirty talk ]. →  inbox status: OPEN                                        don’t repost my works anywhere.

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     am i gonna see you tonight?

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     :(

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     hellllllooooooooooo??

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     I WANNA SEE U I MISS UR PRETTY FACE

INCOMING MESSAGE FROM — SATAN    💬     pls come tonight. it would mean everything to me

You’ve never claimed to be smart.

In fact, you’re pretty sure you have to fall on the opposite end of that spectrum in order to bother showing your face tonight at the behest of Carol fuckin’ Danvers. Satan. It’s the work of the goddamn devil pulling you from the clutches of your apartment’s comfortable silence where you’d be much better off riding through the nuanced gut-punching waves of disappointing Carol guilt instead of the hell storm that is being played once again by Carol guilt. You even put on eyeliner for such an occasion, because if you’re going to get fucked over (either physically, emotionally, or both), you might as well look good doing it.

Her name’s still lighting up your phone as the Uber drops you off at the curb, boasting a flood of pictures on Snapchat that illuminate the awaiting scene inside of the frat house through blurry streaks of glass bottles and marijuana smoke and the pale expanse of her neck where a glint of her gold necklace flashes is promised to you to do as you wish, leaving behind bruises or lip prints. It’s an enticing picture painted for you. If you didn’t know any better, you’d think maybe tonight will be the night she tells you she’s free from the clutches of Maria, her perfectly sane girlfriend that you’ve only ever known through Carol’s jilted lens, and that she’ll even let you climb her like a tree in front of her friends.

Lucky you.

Except you do know better. In the pit of your stomach, you know the reality is that you are in closer proximity than Maria, which therefore makes you the most convenient piece of ass at Carol’s disposal, that Carol believes — and is likely right about how — you’re still wound tight enough around her finger to make you drop to your knees like a good little girl, blinded by her golden halo of hair and the whiskey-soaked taste of her lips and ready to excuse her shit treatment of you. That even feeling like you have her for the beat of a butterfly’s wings is worth your sanity. And despite it all, it isn’t enough to keep you away. It’s not enough to exile the parts of a masochistic heart beating in your chest that somehow loves her, even if the only part of you she loves is your willingness to show up for her.

Carol’s fraternity is co-ed, which means that between all of the brothers, their social circle extends to the farthest corners of the university — they consume a fair bit of your own, considering you have at least two classes a semester with Bucky, sit with them at Wanda’s softball games (mostly so you can talk shit about your high school ex that made the team), and rent study rooms at least once a month with Thor, Bruce, and Val to spiral into late night insanity while you all contemplate the meaning of life and attempt to memorize vocabulary words. You slip in through the door, bass thudding into your molars and the heavy blanket of smoke and sweat covers your bare shoulders as you weave your way through the house.

“Look who finally showed up!” Behind the counter in the kitchen is Sam Wilson, running position as makeshift bartender. You detour long enough for a vodka and Diet Coke, stopping next to the barstool that Bucky’s perched on. He tucks you underneath his arm for a side hug, other hand tipping his own solo cup back as he tries to drain the last bit of liquor down his throat.

They’re good friends to you. It’s why you hate doing this dance with Satan — because at some point, you feel that there’s going to be a tectonic shift between the two of you that dredges up a rift in the concrete and you don’t know who will be left on your side. You don’t know who you’ll be able to look in the eye and lie to about Carol, who would pick you over her. You don’t even know if any of them would believe you or would write you off as crazy as you’ve been writing yourself off as of late.

You tell yourself that you’re trying, goddammit, to shove that piece of yourself back into a locked drawer and enjoy the company of your friends.

“Anybody seen Danvers?” you pitch as nonchalantly as you know how, planting your elbows down onto the granite of the counter while you watch Sam mix your drink. He goes heavy on the vodka, which you quietly appreciate.

Bucky snorts. “Yeah, we’ve seen her alright.”

“She’s in the dining room trying to rally everyone into a round of strip beer pong,” Sam explains. “Last we saw, she got her shirt stuck in the chandelier.”

“The face of class, this fraternity,” you tease as Sam hands you your drink. He can’t help but laugh, a jovial, guttural noise that makes you smile, even though your stomach is currently in your throat.

You bid them farewell and snake through the living room, trying to avoid the furniture or the bodies of other people and almost always fail in avoiding both at the same time as you carve out a path to the dining room. It’s densely packed, which forebodes the game of beer pong that the boys mentioned. You try not to cut your elbows into the bones and flesh of others to make your way through, but your adrenaline is humming at the thought of seeing Carol, the thought of her body glowing in the house lights and the cut of her physique out on display for anyone, including you, to openly ogle without abandon.

“Goddamn, Danvers!” someone yells mirthfully. “Keep it in your pants!”

Whistling down to one thought, one track, your mind lasers in and you’re positive that the sharp point of your elbow nails T’Challa directly in the ribs as you finally make it to the inner lip of the circle around the dining room table. It’s desperate. You know it’s desperate. You'll care about it later, you’re sure, but for now, all that’s on your mind is her.

“For the love of fuck, I—” Someone stumbles back into you, dark hair in frizzy waves and the bill of their baseball cap nearly jabbing straight into your nose. Wanda Maximoff spins around, her eyes lightening up at the sight of you as she grabs onto your wrist to stable herself. “Oh! Hey, babe,” she says with a smile. “Didn’t know you were coming.”

“Me either,” you tell her, trying not to be blatant as you scan for Carol. “Carol didn’t tell me until last minute.”

“Boo,” Wanda pouts, before turning to yell over her shoulder, “Danvers! Fuck you!”

“Get in line!” Carol calls back, and your head locks in on where her voice comes from. Your stomach plunges into free fall when you see her: as promised, she’s standing around in her sports bra and jeans, white teeth glinting and blonde hair curling around onto her tanned shoulders, biceps on display and her arms snaked around — her.

Maria Hill, in the flesh, pressed against Carol’s side and her chin balanced on Carol’s shoulder as Carol makes a shot one-handed that successfully lands in a cup on the opposite end of the table. Carol cheers victoriously, and Maria kisses her cheek, and you notice that Carol’s hand on Maria’s side drifts down towards her ass.

All of Carol’s messages swim inside your mind, the ones where she assures you that it’s all real, that she and Hill are done, that Hill’s holding her back, that she’s felt things for you since the moment she laid eyes on you and just knew; the ones where she paints a beautiful picture of a future with you, the same picture she’s just doused in cheap spirits and ruined for the dozenth time. Your drink suddenly tastes like arsenic, heavy and uneven in your stomach, the room shrinking and heat crawling up your neck in an uncomfortable panic. You are going to be sick.

Wanda’s voice comes through in the midst of the ringing in your ears. Fuck you, Danvers.

It takes you a moment to realize that Wanda’s voice isn’t just a reverberation inside your mind, but is right in your ear. “Hey!” She calls your name again, and you finally snap your attention back to her. She scans over your face for a moment, eyebrows folding in the center of her brow. “You alright? Where’d you just go?”

The shock is fresh on your face, salt water from the crashing wave that’s irritating your eyes — you refuse to let yourself cry, here in front of everyone, because all that’s going to do is open the door to a conversation you don’t want to have, incite a fight with Carol that you’ll surely lose, leave you feeling even lower than you do at the moment. You shake your head, trying to shake whatever emotions that aren’t nonchalant off of your face. “Noth—nowhere,” you stammer, voice an octave higher than usual. Wanda’s perplexity only deepens. “More crowded than I thought. Got beer-splashed.”

Wanda breaks into a smile, seemingly buying your excuse. “C’mon, what’d you expect?” she ribs. It’s a loaded question, and if Wanda wasn’t Wanda, you’re sure it’d be enough to light your rapidly shorting fuse. The thin strain in your falsified smile must give something away, because she softens the slightest bit and wraps her arm around yours. “Let’s go downstairs. I’ll kick your ass sideways in pool.”

You appreciatively take Wanda’s out, allowing her to guide you away from the Carol show and the crowd of people you have steeled yourself in order to not cry in front of and head with her towards the basement, which the frat has renovated into a lounge space with a giant television, sectional that is infamous for its hosting of The Threesome, and the pool table. It hasn’t garnered quite the same audience that the beer pong game has, but less people means you feel slightly less suffocated. Carol’s still got her foot on your throat, but down here, it’s easier to maneuver and act as though you haven’t just had yourself made a fool in front of everyone without them knowing.

Relieved for the little things, like elbow room, you sit down on the arm of the sectional and take a long drink from your cup — if you’re going to survive the rest of the night without your tail tucking between your legs (and you’re determined to further your self-sabotage by going the extra mile to ensure Carol knows she fucked up, even though it’s likely she doesn’t care) you’ll have to be drunker than this. Wanda adjusts her hat on her head and picks up a pool cue, glancing back over her shoulder at you. “Want someone to show you how it’s done?” she teases.

You lift your cup in acknowledgment, smile shedding off of your lips. “Go for it.”

As Wanda weasels her way into the current game of pool, you do a quick intake of who all’s downstairs. There’s a few of the brothers, a few of the brother’s dates, people that are otherwise background characters designed to make campus seem at capacity but not so many people that no one would notice if you threw up in the corner or worse, started crying. You purse your lips around the rim of your solo cup, scanning the company around the pool table. Wanda sidles up next to another one of her brothers, poking her with the pool cue. “Nat!” Wanda whines. “Give me room.”

Natasha Romanoff shuffles out of the way with the roll of her eyes. “Poke me with the stick again and it’s gonna go somewhere less than ideal.”

Wanda flicks her middle finger upright before hunching around the shape of the pool cue. “You don’t scare me, Natty.”

“Your funeral.”

Your eyes follow Natasha out of the way, and she feels their weight because the next thing you know, you’re off the cliffs and deep somewhere inside the greenery of her eyes. They’re pretty eyes, you idly note, and you find yourself mulling over Natasha Romanoff, as a person, as a concept, as Natasha. She’s the oldest of the girls in the fraternity, a senior to your junior, and she’s been around for so long that it’s hard to remember a time when she wasn’t there. It’s hard to imagine a room without her in it, a constant fixture on the mantel that you don’t even bother acknowledging it anymore.  

She cocks an eyebrow at you after what’s sure to be a long moment of staring, and Wanda, who is unfortunately more observant than you’d like to believe, begins laughing. “Am I interrupting this little staring contest?”

Natasha smirks. “I could win a staring contest and kick your ass at the same time, Maximoff.”

“Show off,” Wanda grumbles as she passes the pool cue over to Natasha. She then looks at you, and whatever grumpiness dissipates, her shit-eating grin returning. “Now, you on the other hand,” she preludes with a gesture towards you. “There’s no way.”

You drain the rest of your drink and discard the cup off to the side. "You talk a lot, Wan,” you inform her as you walk up to the side of the pool table. Wanda just grins as you turn to Natasha, gesturing for the pool cue. “Let me have a go.”

Natasha acquiesces and passes you the pool cue, giving you the space you need coupled with a low nod of encouragement. There are a few clusters of balls around the table and you’re trying to eye up a shot that’ll give you not only a handful of points, but will get Wanda off your back — even if you are grateful for the timing of her diversions.

Unfortunately, it’s not enough; you can still hear the laughter and music through the walls from upstairs, a raucous noise that scatters your train of thought. Is it Carol? What’s she doing? What’s she whispering into Hill’s ear? Does she know you’re even here? Does she care? 

Probably not.

You take the shot without thinking, balls ricocheting off the sides of the pool table. Wanda barks out a laugh. “Really? That’s the best you’ve got?”

“Just getting warmed up,” you say stiffly, handing the pool cue off.

Wanda’s face is alight with amusement, nodding slowly as she moves around the pool table for her next shot. “Okay.”

You’re too far in your head, and you know it. You’re content to linger on the outskirts of the game while everyone else that Wanda goes about recruiting takes their turn. It’s a few minutes or an hour before the cue ends up back in your hand, like a rickety sort of clockwork that is unexpected but also entirely predictable. You assess the situation and find a decent enough angle now that the game has progressed, significantly so.

You bend over slightly, eyes fixed on a blue ten that’s not too far from the cue. Before you can make the shot, you hear someone behind you muttering. “Do it like this.”

When you glance over your shoulder, it’s Natasha, only a few inches from where you stand, hands hesitating before she reaches out. “Back up,” she guides, her hands stationing on your hips and forcing you to take a half-shuffle of a step backwards. “And lift your elbow like this.” You’re clay and she shapes you how she wishes, her touch feather light. “Okay. Now try.”

You do exactly as she says, pool cue shooting from your hand and colliding with the cue ball. The ten you’ve had your eyes on sails into the pocket without any interference. 

“Nice shot, sweetheart,” Natasha says, her voice ghosting along the back of your spine. As you straighten up, you glance behind you, noticing the faint grin along the curve of her lips.

“Well that wasn’t sexual at all,” Wanda comments with a low whistle as the pool cue returns to her grip. “Do losers get laid still? I wouldn’t know.” With a toothy flash of a grin, she draws the cue back and makes another shot — you’re not entirely focused on her efforts, thanks to the gravity of Natasha’s sights still pressing deep into your skin.  

Wanda talks a big enough game that she recruits nearly everyone standing around the pool shot to give it a go, which provides a window of opportunity for Natasha to brush a hand along your shoulder and steal you away. “Up for a smoke?” she asks, and you nod. You allow her to lead the way out through the basement’s French doors, slipping outside into the backyard where the sky is dotted with stars, the air smells only the slightest bit cleaner, and the music is nothing but a dull pulse from inside the house.

Natasha steers you away from the patio where other fraternity brothers and their guests are sitting around, enjoying their drinks and laughing amongst their idle, stoned conversations around the fire pit. You follow her into the grass, trailing around the side of the house until the two of you don’t have any other company aside from each other and Thor’s knockout rose bushes that he takes great pride in.

She leans up against the wall, hands fishing in the pocket of her jacket for her lighter. For someone who’s devoted the rest of their evening to shooting metaphorical (or even literal) middle fingers in Carol’s direction, you’re still too far on edge to be nonchalant about any of it. The quiet is all consuming, maddening inside of your buzzing mind. Natasha produces a joint, embers burning on the end as she lights it and brings it up to her lips. You’re left to watch as she takes a long, casual drag, a cloud of smoke billowing from her lips on the exhale. Her wrist then extends, offering the joint up; if there is such a thing as too eager, you’d be the poster child for it, the way you pluck it from her fingers and take a hit.

“Something on your mind?” she asks, her voice a low drag of gravel against the muted bass thud inside of the house. You open an eye and glance over at her, her green eyes burning holes through you as she watches. 

“Eh,” you mutter half-heartedly with a shrug. “Not worth it.”

You pass the joint back to her after you take one more drag, your eyes fixed on the steady stream of smoke that you forcibly control the exit from your mouth. It’s nice to have control over something, you think, even if it is, to some degree, just seeing how long you can hold your breath. 

“Seems like you could use a distraction,” Natasha comments, fingers idly rolling the joint between her fingers as smoke still curls from the tip. 

You laugh, a low and guttural noise that’s passive at best. “Yeah, probably.”

Natasha turns so her entire body is facing you, and it doesn’t register, the way that she’s looking at you, until you feel her brush your hair off of your face. Your eyes fully open, somewhat surprised by the action, watching her carefully. Natasha’s a lot of things, but gentle isn’t one you’d readily associate with her. It’s almost like she’s handling you like glass, waiting for the right moment to shatter you. It’s a hiccup in your chest, a strange feeling washing over your body.

“Let me distract you, then.” She says it simply, like it’s the most logical conclusion to arrive at.

“Nat, what...”

“C’mere.” One of her hands encircles your wrist, guiding you closer. You follow wordlessly in her guidance, unsure of what she’s doing or what’s to come. She takes another hit of the joint, her eyes glowing the same way the end of the joint does, a low burning fire that seems to grow hotter the longer your eyes are connected. 

The hand holding your wrist slides up your body until she’s cupping your jaw, her thumb darting across the expanse of your face to swipe across your lips in a prompt to open them. She lowers the joint, bringing her face inches away from your own as her mouth forms a perfect circle and releases smoke. You’ve shotgunned weed before, but never at such a close proximity. Natasha breathes out and you breathe in, eyes fluttering shut at the intimacy of the moment. 

“Gonna let me distract you some more?” she whispers, and you barely register yourself nodding before her lips capture your own. Her mouth is plush and soft but nothing about her is gentle anymore — this is where she forces a spiderwebbing crack across your surface, the deft way in which she manipulates your lips to do exactly as she’d like, her tongue skating across the skin and opening your mouth to allow her access. You can’t help but to sigh into the kiss. She is exactly what she claims she is: a distraction, a welcome reprieve, and the golden halo around Carol’s head seems fuzzy and jilted now.

Natasha kisses you like she’s trying to set you on fire; at some point she has absconded the joint and ground out its remnants into the mulch, both her hands cupping your face as she boxes you in with her legs and adjusts the two of you so your back is now flush against the wall. “How’s this?” she murmurs against your ear, lips starting a descent down your neck that is feather light and the gentle scrape of her teeth.

“Very... very distracting,” you stammer out, fingers curling into fiery red hair. 

“Good,” Natasha hums, her mouth vibrating over a particularly sensitive spot on your collarbone that causes your grip in her hair to tighten. “Pretty girl like you shouldn’t be so far in your head.” 

You nod, thankful for the reward of her body pressing against yours. 

“What d’you say?” Her voice ghosts over your skin, and for a moment, you’re not sure what it is she’s asking. It takes a moment, the weed and the liquor clouding your mind, but the dig of Natasha’s blunt fingernails into your hips and the graze of her teeth along your skin serves as motivation. “Huh? What d’you say, princess?” 

“Thank you,” you gasp, the feeling of her mouth tightening around your skin wet and hot sending a glimmer of electricity down your spinal cord. Natasha chuckles, a dark and melodic noise that buzzes through your body. 

“You’re welcome,” she croons. “’S that all you needed? Or do you need more?”

More. It’s the knee jerk response you have, the way your world has narrowed down to just her and the scent of her heady perfume and each individual curve of muscle is now flush against you. Your eyes open only to see Natasha grinning like she’s the fuckin’ devil. 

Maybe you were misplaced somehow.

Natasha’s hands drag over your sides, up and down roughly as she kisses you and forces your legs farther apart so she’s able to snake one of her thighs in between them. She rucks your top up on the edges, fingers brushing over your skin in a delightful contrast to the cool evening air. Natasha is hot, her touch burning and singeing the skin wherever it moves. She’s painting you out of ashes and making you into something beautiful, something uniquely her own. Her hands slip underneath your shirt and you feel one hand trail upwards, fingers wrapping around your breast before squeezing. It elicits another tiny moan from you, which Natasha swallows down with a kiss. “Shh,” she hisses against your lips. “Be quiet.”

You arch into her touch as her fingers slip beneath the cup of your bra and pinch your nipple tight, another squeak of pleasure groaned into her mouth. It only encourages her further, the other hand of hers moving in the opposite direction. “Want me to touch you?” she whispers in your ear while you press your mouth into her shoulder, breath warm against your ear and her teeth just barely missing your earlobe. “Bet you’re not distracted now; only thing you and that pussy are thinking about is me, huh?”

“Fuck, Nat,” you mumble into her skin.

“Yeah you are,” she replies with a shit eating grin, your head tilting back until it roughly meets the back of the wall as her hand goes up your skirt. 

You’d been meticulous prior to coming over, thinking on whatever lone star trailing in the sky that you’d be seducing Carol tonight; you’d purposefully worn your skimpiest pair of underwear just to show her what she could have if she was with you. It’s only when you see the look on Natasha’s face, the way her pupils dilate and her jaw slackens the slightest bit as her fingers skim in between the folds of your thigh and vulva and feels lace that you feel something resembling satisfaction. “You came ready for a distraction, princess,” she grumbles, moving your underwear to the side and swiping her fingers through what is now sheer want dripping from you. “Fuck, you’re wet.”

“N... Nat,” you whine, squirming around in the pursuit of pressure. “Touch me.”

She places the tip of her finger at your entrance, just barely teasing it in. “Ask nicely, honey.”

The words spill from your lips without thought. “Please, Nat, please touch me, fuck m—” She cuts you off as she slips her finger inside of you and you all but rocket up the side of the wall at the feeling. Her free hand, still underneath your shirt, wrestles out from beneath the fabric and is slapped over your mouth to muffle whatever noise you make.

“Thought I told you to be quiet,” she says between her gritted teeth. “Here.” She presses her index and middle fingers against your lips and you acquiesce, opening them wide enough to allow them to slip in. “Suck.”

You do as you’re told, happy to oblige as she begins to finger you. There’s nothing soft or sweet about the way she fucks you; she adds another finger and finds a steady rhythm, curling each time she’s knuckle deep inside of you just so she can be rewarded with you humming around the fingers in your mouth. It amuses her to some extent, the way her eyes have darkened and her mouth is slightly agape. She knows exactly what she’s doing, and considering how tight you are wound, you’re not going to last long.

"Clench around me, pretty girl,” she hisses amongst the other litany of dirty things she’s whispering in your ear. “Such a sweet pussy, does whatever I ask it to; what if I want this pussy all to myself? You gonna let me have it?”

You nod, Natasha withdrawing her fingers from your mouth before she hauls you in for the filthiest kiss of your life. “Fuck,” you whimper against her lips. “Yours, Nat, your pussy.”

“Yeah, I know. This is my pussy now, all tight and hot and wet and desperate just for me. This was what you needed, wasn’t it? Needed me to fuck you silly until you forget how to put one foot in front of the other.”

“Please, Nat, gonna...” 

“What?” she teases, her thumb flicking across your clit and you know that she’s doomed you, mind and body barreling down a track that there is no return from. “What, baby? Use your words.”

“Gonna come,” you manage to get out, and she fucking laughs.

“‘S right,” she agrees. “Gonna make this little pussy come all over my fingers, since I’m the only one who can. That right?” You nod; her fingers tighten in your hair and pull your head back so your neck is exposed for her. “C’mon, baby, wanna see you make a mess on my hand. Come for me like a good little slut. You know you want to.” You do, you do, and everything is bordering on the edge of too much the way Natasha is sucking your neck and rubbing tight circles on your clit. “Show me who’s pussy this is. Come.”

Another few thrusts and flicks of your clit and you are gone, Natasha bringing her mouth back to yours to swallow the keens and cries of you hitting your climax. The brick wall underneath you scratches at your shirt but it is a heavenly feeling, losing control underneath Natasha. She just smiles when she pulls away and you slump into her, perfectly sated. 

“That was hot,” she says with a wicked grin, pulling her fingers out of you. She doesn’t break eye contact as she brings them up to her lips, sucking your taste off of them. Her eyes alight with pleasure, a contented hum reverberating from her vocal cords. “Thanks, pretty girl.”

Beat that, Danvers.

[eris-snow]

𝐁𝐞𝐥𝐢𝐞𝐯𝐞 𝐌𝐞

Tags: Revelation (Deku's birthday series 2024), angst, izuku x fem!reader

Masterlist

July 1st. The start of the end.

---

If I tell you I’m not who you think I am,

.

.

.

will you believe me?

—

The atmosphere is warming up and the sun is scorching. Cicadas screech like the buzzing of doorbells, and Izuku’s life is finally on track.

Izuku’s still striving for more. The internships, the thanks he still gets from saving everyone in the war, for saving to win, winning to save. Still fighting his way with Shoto and Katsuki for Valedictorian, with sleepless nights, caffeine, training and school. He’s still healing, picking up the pieces with permanently scarred hands and getting cut by the shards on his crooked fingers, but he’s better, compared to last year.

He’ll be 17 in two weeks, graduate in 10 months, and go Pro because that’s been his dream since young.

The air is fresh, and he’s contented, happy, satisfied.

Summer has officially made its debut, and July has finally arrived.

Izuku can’t consider himself anything less than lucky, because without Kacchan, Ochaco, Iida, Todoroki, All Might, his classmates, mother, teachers, all of them, he wouldn’t be here.

“Class dismissed,” Aizawa says, throwing his sleeping bag over his shoulder, and walks out the door.

The class explodes with its usual chatter, and Katsuki turns around to form conversations about training.

Yeah, everything feels…just right.

—

Everything was not alright.

Then again, things haven’t been alright for a while now, and most of your feelings are numb, numb, numb because after a certain threshold, the rod breaks, the rope snaps, and suddenly, you just don’t care anymore.

It isn’t to say you weren’t close to Izuku, but the gap is a chasm that can never be bridged. (Maybe another war would help, but your smile isn’t worth the world burning.) Your relationship with Izuku now can’t hold a candle to what it once was, because on the 15th of July, 7 years ago, you’d been at the wrong place, at the wrong time.

On the 15th of July, 7 years ago, Izuku had pushed you out of the way, and taken your place.

On the 15th of July, 7 years ago, Izuku had been hit by a quirk.

In each memory, each picture he remembers, every thought he’s ever had of you in that one-year timeframe, you disappear. Because each year after that, at the stroke of midnight on the 16th of July, he’d forget you.

Even as nightmares of the war ease for some, yours is eternal, and you breathe every second of it. You want to kill yourself.

If I tell you I’m not who you think I am,

.

.

.

will you believe me?

You’re writing on a post-it, and it’s a bad habit of yours. Your game of Secrets that you’d incorporate through each year even though there’s no one to play the game with now. Your laughs shared, and your effort that you’d build the bridge so painstakingly with the hands that tore your relationship up in the first place.

His viridian eyes that shine with adoration for you, his smile that is carved just for you, his nickname for you. Starlight, Starlight, Starlight.

Over and over, back and forth, up and down.

Your game of Secrets is shelved in a tin box of Post-its, and your nickname is foreign on Izuku’s tongue. You’d tried to bridge the gap this round, but the chasm has widened, and if take a leap of faith, you’ll die. There are guards up, especially after the war, and as much as you try to tear them down, your relationship can never be the same.

It’ll always be L/n and Midoriya, because you, aren’t, enough.

“Starlight.”

You look up from the Post-it, and your eyes meet crimson red.

Kacchan.

You slam your head back down on the desk.

“Oi!” He’s shaking you, but part of you doesn’t feel a thing. You only hurt when you let it hurt, and it all goes away if you don’t think. Kacchan makes you think. You don’t like Kacchan.

“Go away.”

“It’s July.” Bakugou softens, and isn’t that a sight for sore eyes? “Izuku’s month.”

You only hurt when you let it hurt, and it goes away when you don’t think.

Don’t think.

“Kacchan, I don’t want to try anymore. I’m tired.” Your voice is a whisper, shit, you’re a mess. “I’m tired of chasing after Zuku.”

Numb, numb, numb. It’s scary, that this is the boy you’ve been in love with for the better part of your life, and you don’t want to stop loving him.

Your words taste like resolve. You’re clinging, one hand, on the edge of a cliff in the howling wind. Barely. Because even though you’ve chosen to hurt, chosen to feel, breaking points you don’t believe in start cracking your soul, and leave part of the world black and grey.

That’s funny, you swore your Post-it was green.

“Starlight—”

“Don’t start, Kacchan. I can’t ganbare my way through this.” You crumble your Post-it, stand up, haul your sorry ass to the door and throw the Post-it away. “Just leave me alone.”

You run into Izuku on your back to the dorms, and he smiles and waves at you as you leave. “See you around, L/n!” He says, you wave back, smile fake, but real enough. “See you around, Midoriya.”

Today is the start of July, and you dread this day every year, the countdown to Izuku’s inevitable memory wipe, and you’d made every effort to treasure it last year, with Secrets and stupid gifts.

But this year, you don’t even have any memories to protect.

—

“Kacchan!” Izuku gasps, slamming the door to the classroom open. “I think I accidentally left my workings for integration on my table, I—” He trails off.

Bakugou is standing so still in front of L/n’s table like he is staring at the corpse of a person he couldn’t save. “Kacchan?”

With little to no pause, he turns, walks to Izuku’s table, picks up the loose pieces of foolscap and walks over to where Izuku stands by the waste bin.

“Oh, thank you—Waachan!”

With one swift motion, Kacchan dumps his precious notes into the dustbin.

“Kacchan!” Izuku wails, bending down immediately to sort through the trash. Thankfully, it had been recently cleared, and it was just scraps of paper left in it. “You’re so mean! I thought that we were over this—”

He tries to flick off the green post-it that’s got stuck in the crossfire, preparing to throw it back, forgotten, when Bakugou grabs his hand and looks at him in the eyes. “Izuku. Read it.”

He has a serious expression on, and since Izuku trusts him with his life, (and because he’s cranky when Izuku ignores him) he does what he’s told with zero hesitation.

If I tell you I’m not who you think I am,

.

.

.

will you believe me?

Right beneath, in the tiniest of scrawls, are the words,

please believe me, Izuku

crossed out so many times that it was almost illegible.

His heart does three big somersaults and threatens to be puked out of his mouth.

Alarmed, his eyes flicker up to Bakugou, who looks at him so hard that it makes Izuku feel like he’d done something wrong. “Whose handwriting is that?” The red-eyed boy, his childhood friend spits, jabbing a finger at the note.

With a double take and a quick memory scan, his mouth dries up like sand in the desert.

“L/n.”

Kacchan frowns, but Izuku is right, and before he can get anything out his friend beats him to it.

“If you think Shortie’s doing shitty things behind our backs, she’s not, and that’s not what she meant by her note. She’s hurting, and she needs you, Izuku. I can patch up her wounds, but I can’t stop her from bleeding. Talk to her, please.”

Izuku’s horrified that he didn’t notice anything. You’re always full of smiles, warm like sunshine and gentle like clouds. You’ve always helped him when he needed it and you were a solid partner in practicals when paired up. You’d just arrived in class in the middle of last year, but you fit in so well. What happened?

“You’re the closest to her, Kacchan, surely you must know something?” He says, looking up at the blond with eyes full of green.

“I don’t.” Katsuki grits out. Lie. “The note was addressed to you, wasn’t it?

Why don’t you ask her to find out?”

[nat-the-octo]

man, Splatoon 3 is basically over, huh?

Everyone is doing their Splatoon stories rn, so I guess I’ll do mine I got Splatoon 2 with some Christmas money in New Years of 2020. My only previous knowledge of the series was a vague concept of the game when the first came out and watching old Failboat videos on it like Octo Expansion and photoshopping new weapons. I wasn’t really into video games as an interest (hyper fixation) until the pandemic, where my mom got a switch lite for the family to see the new animal crossing, and me later getting my own console for my birthday later in the year. All of which is to say: I didn’t know what I was getting into with Splatoon.

I sat down minutes after midnight (probably sleep deprived) and I was thrust into this colorful, creative, and diverse world where you’re constantly encouraged to stand out, make a difference, and live by your own rules. It’s difficult to explain why this game where people living how they want get to cover mundane gray cityscapes with color and life was so instantly appealing to me, but it struck a chord that sent me hurtling down a rabbit hole that would without exaggeration, change the course of my life.

I immediately played through the story mode, then played it 8 more times to collect every weapon, got my ass beat by Octo Expansion, cried during Into the Light, 100% Octo Expansion, and was lucky enough to be just in time for the real final splatfest of Splatoon 2. (I lost) This also boosted me to be able to actually experience and understand more video games as a whole, but that’s a different topic. This all led me to February 2021, (yes that all happened in 2 months) where me and my friend skipped online school to watch the direct on a playground in my neighborhood, and saw the reveal of Splatoon 3. From here, everything begins to speed up. I found my way onto Inkipedia, consumed all possible knowledge about this tiny trailer that was available, then consumed all info and lore about the current games, including characters, old splatfests, previous metas, splatband lore, and more. THAT led me to splatoon theories, (shoutout to rassicas), which later led me to splatoon fanon with theories and ships and ocs and suddenly it’s September 2022.

Ironically the section of time with Splatoon 3 might be the part I have the least to say about, mostly because it all feels so recent even today. I watched the trailers, read the twitter posts, thought Shiver was nonbinary, played the testfire, everything. Everything post launch feels so wonderful and great and everything I wanted from the game and more. I actually felt like I was apart of a community as I debated splatfest topics with my friends and complained about my weapons being nerfed. (I still get upset about the tenta missile nerf from like. a month after launch.)

I think this part of the story will hit a lot harder in a few years, when I experience my first actual content drought instead of joining at the end of one, but for now, I can just be satisfied by my memories and experiences with the series so far. This franchise has truly changed who I am today and will be in the future. I’m a completely different gender person now because of playing the game, and now I have my own little theories and ships and ocs that I haven’t put to page and all the things that made me start in the first place, and it feels like I’m truly part of a community for once.

idk how to end this so to whoever read this far, thank you, honestly. I hope we both get to live the lives we want in the future, no matter what life throws at us.

P.S. here’s a pic of my main OC for the first time, might do more stuff with her if i feel like it

[666herescared]

Imaginary Shadow Dad) Ch.1: The Nights are the Hardest

—☆—

Remember that little tag from my post about my ask blog? Well, welcome to the ShadowDad AU!  In this AU, Mac never got revived by the Lady Bitch Demon, because he didn’t die. He hid in the shadows and has been regaining energy since the fight. Thanks to that, he’s not in her debt, because I don’t like writing angst unless I’m already having a mental breakdown.

—☆—

It’s scary being alone. Especially at night. Xiaotain knew that first hand. He was terrified of the dark. His parents always told him to just toughen up, but they didn’t really want him to. It made it easier to control him. Refuse a chore? Locked in the closet. Cry for attention? Locked in the closet. Specifically the closet because the pull string was too high for the poor six year old to reach. 

  He hated that they never showed a hint of sympathy for him, but who really would? He wasn’t even able to wash dishes right. He was just a useless little boy they never really wanted anyway. They just forgot to use protection one night and couldn’t afford to abort. 

  It wasn’t much better at school. He didn’t have any friends and was constantly struggling to focus. Every report card was a sentence to at least one night in the closet. No matter what, he knew better than to cry. Crying always made it worse. On lucky days though, when his parents weren’t home, he got to watch cartoons! He loved to see what imagination could do! He started stealing some of the printer paper and pencils to practice drawing in his room. He wanted to be a cartoonist someday. He thought it would be so cool!

  On one of his lucky days he discovered a show about this guy called “The Monkey King” who was just about the coolest guy he’d ever seen! He wanted to be like that one day, but he just wasn’t brave enough. He wanted to get braver, but he was even scared of the dark! According to the other kids in his class, only babies are scared of the dark. He didn’t wanna be a baby! He wanted to be a monkey!

  He wanted to lounge around in the jungle eating fruit to his heart's content. He started thinking that if he was braver, if he was stronger, maybe he could one day. So he decided to try some tactics he’d seen in his cartoons. Starting with getting over his fear of the dark.

  He chose to train himself away from being scared by turning off the light in his room and staying by the switch so he could turn it on again if he did get really scared. He managed a whole five minutes without freaking out on his first attempt, and his times only got better from there. By the end of the first month, he could handle half an hour! What he was confused by though was that it only seemed to apply to his room. So far at least. The dark was still scary everywhere else, but his room was starting to feel safe at night.

  The closet was still a plenty effective punishment. It was extra effective in fact. He didn’t know what it was, but something in the shadows was alive and it always went away the moment you turned on the light. He didn’t wanna stay scared of the dark, so he’d decided! He’d talk to the shadow monster once his “night sentence” came in.

  A few days later, he was locked in the closet as usual. He stuck near the door in the cramped space to have some sense of control, no matter how little it helped. He had no idea how to stop panicking. He felt as though the shadows were trying to grab him, and he couldn’t even see the walls. His parents left the room outside the door and turned off the light as they left, stopping any light from protecting him. He felt as though his shield had been ripped away, and now it was time for the swords. Xiaotain felt the shadows start shifting, as though they had just woken up. It quickly felt as though the walls were breathing and he wasn’t alone any more.

  The shadow monster shifted as it awoke, its eyes suddenly watching the kid panicking in its den. It reached out to touch the anxious little boy, who flinched away from its touch. Understandable. It wasn’t exactly corporeal.

  The young artist tried to calm his breathing, but it felt like someone was pushing his lungs, keeping him from steady breath. He tried counting his breath like that witch show taught him, but he kept choking before a second could pass. Ah, well. He was stuck all night anyway.

  The tendrils of shadow creeping underneath his skin was as if someone had pulled it up and was stroking the muscle. It felt invasive. It was like someone was both comforting him and scaring him at the same time! The darkness was only trying to do one of those though. Within an hour, the boy was too tired and hungry to panic. If only his punishment closet was the snack cupboard.

  Scared, alone, and cold, his stomach growled and he groaned. The worst part was that he’d be there till the next day, and even now, it was only 1:30 P.M. He felt the shadow press on his stomach and flinch away.

  The boy was skin and bones! He shouldn’t be dealing with this stuff without food! The creature slinked away to get something as the boy silently cried in the closet. He was lucky enough to find some campers in the darker parts of the forest. They were getting some hiking gear, and had left their snacks wide open. He looked for anything good he could find, but he didn’t know what the boy liked. Now that he’d thought about it, he hadn’t seen the boy eat before. Rage bubbled in his chest but he held it down. No. That’s not helpful.

  He decided to steal the bag of plain salted potato chips. It was the safest bet of things he wouldn’t have to make. He opened a portal under the bag and carried it through the shadows back to the boy’s house. The image that greeted him was nearly enough to make him cry. A little boy, no more than seven years old, ribs showing through a ripped shirt, with tear tracts streaming down his face, passed out in the most distressed position he’d seen from another person. 

  He was cold and shivering with every small draft from beneath the door, curled over himself in a desperate attempt for comfort. It made the Shadows’ blood boil. He wanted nothing more than to grab those idiots and torture them for traumatizing this poor cub! For now though, he needed to keep the kid alive. Can’t really protect a dead kid. 

  The shadows lightly placed the chips in front of the kid so as to not wake him, but even with how light the rustling was, it was a bag of chips, so of course it was loud. The kid woke up and shuffled even closer to the wall, like he thought the chips were gonna kill him. The darkness pushed them closer to entice the kid, who shook his head. The shadows tried again. The kid had to eat but he just shut his mouth tighter. The boy was mentally scrambling to figure out what to do when he remembered his original plan. He calmed his breathing and spoke.

  “I know you’re there.” The boy nearly whispered. A shadow touched his leg softly. Less invasive than before. “I-I know you’re here s-so… Show yourself!” The young boy tried to be brave and felt the shadows chuckle. “C-c’mon… I’m serious!”

  The darkness fell still, until small lights appeared. “Promise you won’t run?” The shadows requested. The child’s nod was quickly followed by purple light filling the closet’s opposing wall. He was finally able to get a clear look at what he’d been scared of and it was… A monkey? A shadow monkey? He wasn’t sure. It had three ears on either side of its head and a lantern in its hand. “Ta-da!~” the shadows sang, before looking back at the kid. “What is it, bud?” 

  The little boy had been staring at the lantern. “Why does the darkness have a lantern? And why aren’t you scarier?” He asked.

  The dark creature on the wall chuckled and said, “Well I’m just not that type of guy.” as it stepped into a somewhat corporeal form. He crouched down and grabbed the bag of chips, plucking one out and pointing it at the kid. “Now eat, or I’m force feeding you.” He demanded with an empty threat. 

  The cub shook his head. “No. Mommy and daddy will get mad.” 

  The shadow felt rage bubble up to the surface again. Of course they would. He wanted to just kill them and take the cub for himself, but he wasn’t strong enough yet. His body hadn’t fully healed. “Yeah? Well, these aren’t theirs and they aren’t here. So, eat.” The shadows were not having any of Xiaotain’s shit. 

  The boy looked concerned and asked, “Who’s are they then?”

  The shadow rubbed his brow. Of course the kid was a goodie two shoes. Otherwise he woulda killed those bastards himself. “They’re ours now, kid. So stop asking questions and eat!” He said, exasperated as he shoved a chip in the kid’s mouth. The boy started chewing slowly as the shadow watched him. “What’s your name anyways, kiddo?” The shadow asked as the kid started shoveling chips into his mouth. 

  The younger swallowed his mouthful before answering. “Qi Xiaotain! Who are you?” He said, making the shadow chuckle.

  “I go by a lot of names, kid. Come up with one.” He replied. He’d seen the boy watching that show. He’s not exactly shown in the best light there.

  “Can I call you ‘Shadow Dad’?” The boy chuckled, clearly kidding.

  Oh how he’d regret that joke. “Yeah, that works.” The shadow said, holding back some joy. He just had a proper conversation with the cub and he’s already being called dad? Does it really matter that it was a joke?

  “Wait. I didn’t mean for real!” The kid said with anxiety in his tone. To him it did.

  But to the darkness… “Nope! I’m Shadow Dad now. Nice to meet you Xiaotian!” He teased and picked up the cub who yelped in surprise as he was swung side to side for a moment. The newly titled ‘Shadow Dad’ then plopped down with the kid in his arms, smiling eyes glowing down on him. “But seriously kid, why’re you already calling me that?”

  Sure, the shadow liked the title, but he didn’t understand the kid dropping his guard so early. “You did a thing my cartoons told me dads do. You brought me food.” He answered once he had calmed down. The darkness didn’t like that the boy specified his cartoons showed him dads do that. “Oh no! What if my actual dad hea-” 

  “Shh.. Your parents are asleep. Trust me.” Shadow Dad stated, placing one hand behind three of his ears. “They aren’t waking up for a while. You should sleep too, little sky.” He whispered, punctuating the sentence with a boop on the nose. The boy nearly panicked until he was stopped by the darkness saying, “Don’t worry. I’ll be here all night.” and nuzzling the tiny creature in his arms.

  True to his words, the shadow didn’t leave, and when morning came, he waited for the kid to wake up before returning to the dark. The tiny yawn the equal size child gave just made the creature all the more fond. How this happened, no one knew. The child was just so sweet and small. You’d never think he’d have the ability to betray someone. It made it so easy to let down your walls. “G’morning, Shadow Dad..” The kid muttered as he woke up.

  The shadow placed him gently in front of him. “Good morning, Xiaotian. Have a pleasant dream?” The creature asked. The kid nodded, turned around and laid back against the shadow’s lap. He couldn’t help his instincts telling him to groom the cub, and of course, the kid was fine with it. He almost passed out again, but the shadow started snapping in front of his face. “Stay awake now, bud. You have school and your parents are coming to let you out.”

  His… No, the kid’s eyes snapped open at that and he started panicking. “B-but Shadow Dad! I don’t wanna go! Can’t I stay?” The cub pleaded.

  The darkness sighed. He didn’t want the kid to go either. It’s lonely in the shadows, but he needed to go. Until the boy’s actual parents did something unforgivable, he would have to give the boy less comfort than he could. “Here, bud.” He said as he handed the boy a smaller lantern. “If you ever need me, turn this on. I’ll be there as fast as I can.” His ears twitched. “You might wanna hide it, though. Your parents are coming and I don’t think they’ll want you talking to me.”

  As his Shadow Dad stood and grabbed his own lantern, Xiaotain shoved his in his pocket and grabbed the other’s wrist. “What if I wanna see you in class?” He asked in a frenzy.

  “I doubt anyone’s gonna immediately jump to you sneaking a living shadow into class. Anytime. As long as you’re fully dressed.” He couldn’t help but add. The cub immediately started going ‘ew! Gross! No!’ as his new friend chuckled. “Hehe. Alright. See you around, Xiaotain.”

  “Bye Shadow Dad!”

—☆—

Alright! End of chapter one! As always, feel free to make whatever you want in this AU and tell me any critiques. Now, as always,

Have fun, and happy scrolling!

Next- Chapter 2

[magnoliabutters]

• LIKE THE DIRTY GIRL YOU ARE •

pairing: eddie munson x (she/her) reader

summary: your last night with eddie before you head out of town and he’s planned something special.

warnings: 18+ content, mdni, adult language; smut/porn that makes me want to cry, fluff that makes me want to cry, pet names, bondage, (m&f-receiving) oral, dirty talk, begging, (unprotected, don’t recommend) p in v, dom reader with sub eddie, thoughts of abandonment, brief mentions of dwugs, alc, anxiety, and toxic family dynamics, season 4 spoilers, etc. 

word count: ~10.3k

• stories of eddie munson series •

note: hello there! i really loved writing this one. first time in a while where i was so passionate to write. lots a-lots of music in this post. i have linked all the songs and artists mentioned below. I hope some of you will check them out! I got a huge huge writing bug from @sunshinebuckybarnes​‘s a bet’s a bet. check that out asap. thank me later. also sorry for the 10k. i didn't even know i could write that much! low key proud, but also yikessss. hope y'all enjoy! 

"Eddie, baby, when does Wayne usually get home?” you ask as you place your macaroni and cheese dish into the Munson family oven. Eddie pops his head around the hallway corner. “Uh, I think around 7ish? And then he goes to his graveyard shift around 9,” he replies as he pulls his mouth to one side. Almost as though there was a hint of guilt that his uncle needs to work two jobs. “Okay, I’ma make sure he’s good and full before he heads out again,” you share with a smile as you set the timer. 

Eddie watches you in the kitchen. He enjoys this image of you - oven mitts, crazy hair, stained apron. He wishes he could see this for the rest of his life. You meet his eyes, realizing he is staring at you once more. You drop your chin as you shoot him a sweet grin. “Eddie, what are you thinking?” you ask with a bit of a laugh. You watch him as he leans against the doorway. His shirt’s sleeves almost cut down to his hips. His strong arms on full display for your adoration. His grey sweatpants leaving you with a rapid heart rate. He smirks as he pulls his gaze from you. He brushes his curly bangs from his face as he lets out a slow breath. “I guess I’m thinking that I could do this forever,” he responds nonchalantly. 

You take off your oven mitts and apron, walking towards him. He immediately places his hands at your waist as you curl into his torso. “Do what, Munson?” you ask against his comforting and safe chest. You snuggle into him as you place your arms around his lower back. “I will love you forever,” he mumbles atop of your head. He places a soft, yet shaky, kiss against your forehead. You raise your chin to look at him. His brown eyes are filled with both worry and excitement. You close your eyes and kiss his incredibly soft lips. Your hand tangles into the curls of his beautiful hair. “There is no one else I would rather live this crazy life with,” you whisper upon his lips. A rather large smile forms on his mouth. With a quick breath, he leans back into you and pulls you closer to him. 

As you lean back from his loving embrace, you cannot help but have a huge smile on your face. You finally know happiness, and you know it in his arms. Everything that has happened up until this moment has lead you to an abundance of love and comfort. How did you get so lucky? You have never known love until you met Eddie. After such a short month or two, you found yourself completely head over heels for this dorky, loving boy. There is such a feeling of joy and contentment in knowing you have found your soulmate. 

Eddie smiles excitedly. He always loved how your eyes would scan over his entire body. How would you make him feel so fucking loved. How he would never need to doubt how you felt about him because he feels so incredibly adored and supported by you. He never thought he would believe in something as silly as “meant to be,” but that is the only way he can describe the powerful love between you two. “What should we do now? We have about 30 minutes until the food’s done and Wayne makes it home,” you ask as you bite your lip. 

“Well, love. I was thinking we could listen to some more music. We haven’t danced together in a while,” Eddie shares with a huge grin upon his face. “Hm, if we’re dancing, does that mean we’re also smoking?” you ask with bounces to your brows. He laughs as he reaches into his back pocket to pull out a blunt. Your eyes widen in excitement as you express, “Oooo!” He smiles confidently as he adds, “I rolled it myself.” Your eyes meet his as your brows raise. “Oh, how impressive, Eddie,” you reply as you pull his hips onto yours. He lightly gasps as he watches you. “You’re absolutely beautiful, y/n,” he says unprovoked. You flirtatiously roll your eyes as you pull him in for a gentle kiss. “You're beautiful, Eddie,” you reply with full sincerity. He smiles as he rubs his nose against yours. 

Eddie places the blunt in your front pocket, very seductively. He then spins you, leading you towards the living room as he releases you from his grasp. “What are we listening to, baby?” he asks as he walks over to the cassette deck. You place your finger to your chin. “Do you have Safety Dance?” you ask with a huge smile. He turns towards you to give you a death stare. “Oh, don’t lie. You can’t tell me you don’t like that song,” you express. “It’s a classic!” He laughs as he reaches into his cupboard. “Dio’s Holy Diver is a classic,” he says as he holds the album’s cassette between his two fingers. 

You roll your eyes as you fall dramatically onto his couch. “Try ABBA’s Lay All Your Love on Me,” you say matter-of-factly. Eddie looks at you with defeated eyes. “Baby, you know I don’t listen to disco,” he replies as he crashes back onto you. You let out an “oof” as you wrap your arms around his shoulders. He wiggles into a comfortable position with his back between your legs. “Okay, well that song makes me think of you,” you share. He squeezes your thighs, showing you he appreciated that. “Well, I think of you every time I hear ‘Still Loving You’,” he says with a smile. You raise up and brush his hair from his face as you land a kiss on his forehead. “I would do anything for our love, baby. Anything for you,” he whispers. 

“Eddie, I love you with everything I have. I didn’t think it was possible to love someone this much,” you murmur against his hair. You appreciate that his back is towards you. You feel more confident to share your true thoughts when you cannot see his face. Eddie slowly turns around and adjusts his sit. His eyes slowly well with tears. His heart full, something he has never experienced before. He places his hand gently upon your cheek. Your eyes dart away from him, as you also feel those tears cloud your vision. You, yourself, have never felt this level of adoration, care, love for another being. To be so willing to drop everything for him. To drop kick anyone who would dare hurt him. To lose everything as long as you had him. 

Eddie softly smiles as he pulls your gaze back towards him. “I want a forever with you, y/n. I want you to know that. I’m in this for the long haul. I’m talking moving in together one day, saying those ‘I do’s’ everyone talks about, teaching our kids how to play an acoustic. I want everything with you. Every fucking thing,” he says as he reaches for your hand and places it between his. “And if that’s not what you’re looking for...” he trails off, looking down towards both of your hands. Your smile drops into concern as you watch his body language shift. “Then please tell me now before I fall deeper in love with you.” 

Overwhelmed with joy and love, you tackle Eddie back down on the couch. Your hands clasps around his wrists beside his face, careful not to pull onto his beautiful brunette locks. “Eddie Munson. Without a single doubt, I will love you until the day I die,” you express as you place a kiss onto his perfect lips. One of his pools form a tear that slides down his cheek. You wipe it away gently. “I refuse to have anything less than forever with you,” you add. He smiles as red blushing rushes to his cheeks. “So, you’re going to be Mrs. Munson one day?” he asks with hesitant excitement, careful not to push this thought of the future too far. “More like you’re going to be Mr. y/l/n,” you retort with a laugh. 

Eddie leans up to you to give you a harsh kiss. His teeth lightly biting your lip as he rests his head back onto the couch. “I would fucking love to be your Mr. y/l/n,” he whispers against you. “I love you,” you say as you land several kisses around his face. He chuckles against you as he pushes against your grip. You try your hardest to keep his arms down onto the couch, leaning into your palms, but he is too strong. He escapes from your grasp and carefully holds your lower back as he drops both of your bodies onto the trailer floor.

“Eddie!” you worriedly yelp as you fall down. Eddie’s body crashes down against your chest, leaving you both with a release of a sharp breath. You begin to laugh as you lay back onto the orange carpeted floor. He chuckles as he lands beside you. He softly expresses, “Ooof, fuck that hurt.” He continues to smile as he places a sweet kiss onto your cheek. “You can hurt me any time,” he says as he kisses you one more time on your neck. You immediately turn over to him with a smile. “Oh baby,” you reply, completely amused. “You’re going to regret that.” You shoot him a smirk as he pulls you in to be his little spoon. “Am I, love?” he whispers as he places a peck to your upper ear.

Giggling at the ticklish feeling, you pull Eddie’s arms tighter around you. “I have a surprise for you later,” he shares. You push your back closer to his chest, closing the space between you two. “You do?” you ask enthusiastically. “I’ve been planning it for the past week. You know, with you leaving me and all,” he replies with a melancholy tone. “Eddie Munson, I am not leaving you,” you retort as you playfully smack his arm. “I’m just going to Chicago to see my brother graduate. I’ll be home by Saturday night.” He huffs as he tightens his embrace around you. “Well, do we at least have some time together tomorrow?” he asks with puppy dog eyes. You lean your head back onto his collarbone, leaving a peck on his jawline - one of your many favorite parts. “We’ll have the morning, but I gotta get dropped off at 9ish,” you sadly reply. 

“Fuck, I’m going to miss you,” Eddie says as he leans his head onto your shoulder. “I’ll meet you at your house on Saturday!” You feel his curls grace the back of your neck. “I’m going to miss you too baby. I’ll call you tomorrow night, okay?” you suggest. You turn your body so you can face him once more. “Okay, 11 sound good?” he suggests solemnly. “Hey,” you say with an encouraging smile. Your finger placed under his chin, lifting him up to your eye line. “Baby, tomorrow’s going to be so much fucking fun. It’s the finale of your campaign, right? And you got a couple deals,” you list off what you remember from his plans, attempting to encourage excitement for the day ahead.

Eddie’s affect begins to rise, “Yeah, I am super excited about the Vecna campaign. And I’ll be helping out Chrissy.” You smile as you move your hand to cup his cheek. “Baby, not only are you going to watch as those boy’s react to Vecna’s return - but you also get to help the nicest existing person on this planet! You do whatever it takes for that girl to feel safe. I have such bad vibes when it comes to that fuck-face Jason,” you trail on with your thoughts.

“How am I supposed to help her?” he asks defeated. “Eddie, all you have to do is be yourself. You are the best guy I know and the first person I would go to if I had any troubles,” you say as you squeeze on his chin. Your adoration leading you to a level of aggressiveness and heavy petting. Almost as though you cannot help yourself. “I’ll help her baby, I promise,” he replies with an enthused smile. “And you better as hell tell me if those kids end up beating Vecna!” you demand with excitement. “Of course, baby. I’ll give you all the details,” he smiles with absolute adoration. He cannot believe that he found you, and that he wasted six months just being your dealer.

“With how much you like when I talk about my campaigns, I wonder if you should start playing,” Eddie suggests with curiosity for your reaction. You bite the inside of your cheek as your worried eyes meet his encouraging. “I think I have possibly moved up from an ‘absolute no’ to a ‘definite maybe’,” you say with hesitance. He giggles and rubs his hands together, something he always does when he gets excited. “Oh shit, okay okay,” he breathes through his excitement. “What if we talk about it when you get back?” he suggests with a coy shrug. Knowing it would send him to the moon, you nod and agree to the discussion.

Eddie immediately hops up to his feet and jumps onto the couch. “Oh my god,” you say baffled as you rise from the floor. He stops jumping and holds his hand out towards you. “Will you join me, my darling?” he asks. As your hand reaches his, you express, “Why, of course, my love.” He immediately grins, always so appreciative of how your dorky side always complimented his. He starts to bounce as he holds your hand. You follow along, attempting to follow the same rhythm. However, you both keep crashing into each other - giggling together like you are having the best time of your life, because you are.

Suddenly, you hear a knocking against the front door. You both stop and immediately flick your heads to the door. Panic starts to set in, which Eddie notices immediately. “It’s Wayne, baby,” he says amused. “Why is he knocking?” you ask, turning your head towards him with furrowed brows. You nervously run your fingers through your hair. “He, uh, he’s been doing this since the shower incident,” he stutters and shoots you a wide cheesy smile. “The shower?” you ask, annoyingly confused. “Remember? When we were in the shower,” he whispers as he leans towards you. Your eyes widen. Your face reddens. Your body tenses. “Why are you telling me this before I meet this man for the first time?” you say through gritted teeth. Another knock on the door barrels through the trailer walls. “Baby, you asked,” he says with amusement. “I know, I did, shit,” you say, your voice fluctuating based on your anxiety. “We should probably open the door?” He nods, “Yeah, yeah. Let’s do this.” He wraps his fingers around the door knob as he looks back towards you. He mouths, “You got this.” You nod with shakes through your body.

Eddie opens the door with a huge smile on his face. “Welcome home, Wayne,” he says enthusiastically. Wayne chuckles as he sarcastically stated, “What a great way to come home.” His voice was brassy and low toned. He smells of cigarettes and is lathered with dirt. He stops short as he notices you awkwardly standing in the living room. You give him a rather nervous smile. “Hi, I’m y/n,” you say as your voice shakes.

Eddie watches you with an encouraging grin. Wayne watches you as though he is shaping you up, trying to determine whether or not you are good enough for his nephew, but truly his son. Abruptly, his cold face changes into a huge smile. “I finally get an introduction,” he yells happily as he walks towards you. He puts out his hand to shake yours. You follow through with wide eyes. “You must be special,” he mutters as he looks towards Eddie. Eddie immediately shoots him an embarrassed smile.

“Well, it’s nice to finally meet you, y/n,” Wayne says as he bows his baseball cap. He immediately rushes to the bathroom to take a shower. However, he stops right at the beginning of the hallway. His body leans towards the kitchen as it follows his nose. “What’s that?” he asks Eddie. Eddie gestures towards you. You clear your throat, “It’s mac and cheese. I made some dinner for us.” Wayne looks towards you with excited eyes. “Oh shit, I better clean up quick,” he says as he hurries towards the bathroom.

As he leaves the room, you immediately feel light headed. You bend your body over and rest your hands on your knees. “Oh, man. How am I going to get through dinner?” you mumble. Eddie places a comforting hand to your back. “You are doing amazing, my love,” he says as he lightly guides you back up. You stare at him with worried eyes. “What if he doesn’t like me?” you ask with a deep breath. “Baby, with how good that mac n cheese smells, I don’t think you need to worry about that,” he replies. You take another deep breath as you nod your head.

“Let’s go ahead and set up the counter,” you say as you walk towards the kitchen and open the cabinets in search for silverware, plates, and glasses. “How can I help?” Eddie asks with open arms. “Can you move one the chairs over here so we can all face each other? And then you can find us some napkins?” you ask. “Of course, beautiful,” he says with a sultry look to his eyes. “I like when you boss me around.” You roll your eyes as you look back towards him.

“Holy shit! This is good,” Eddie exclaims with a mouth filled with cheese and noodles. “Don’t swear in front of the lady, kid,” Wayne says as he gently hits the back of his hand onto Eddie’s shoulder. Wayne looks over to you, “But holy shit is this fucking good.” Wayne and Eddie bust out in laughter together. You watch them both from across the counter, completely in love with this moment. You finally see where Eddie got his funny side from, possibly where he got all the things you love about him.

“Wait, y/n, I have a story,” Wayne says with an overstuffed mouth and several pats to Eddie’s shoulder. “Let me tell you about the time Eddie first had mac n cheese.” He begins to laugh before he can finish his statement. Eddie straightens up, “No, Wayne. We’re not doing this.” Wayne shushes him and takes a sip of his beer. “Take a swig if you need to,” he says as he raises his beer. “I’m gonna need something a bit stronger, uncle,” Eddie replies in a hoarse, playful tone. You laugh alongside both of them. “Let’s hear it, Wayne,” you say as you raise your hand to him.

“So all we had back then was the Kraft Dinners, right?” Wayne says with an eye on Eddie. Eddie buries his face into his hands. “Eddie was about this tall,” Wayne says as he raises his hand to barely over the counter. “He was so excited to have some of it. He kept watching me cook - it was almost scary how much he was watching me,” he says with a laugh. Eddie digs deeper into his palms, but you can make out a smile forming on his face. “I spilled some of the milk on me and had to go back to the room. I left the mac n cheese there with just the cooked mac and the orangey powder on it. No butter, no milk yet,” he says with chuckles between words.

Wayne quickly leans on and off Eddie’s shoulder. “Tell her what you did,” he laughs out. Eddie lifts his head from his hands. His face screaming embarrassment, but in a way where he also found his younger self quite amusing. “I snuck into the kitchen and took a bite of the dried cheese and noodles,” he shares with a monotone. You react with disgust but ultimately laughter. “Oh no, Eddie!” you say as you place your hand over your mouth.

Wayne laughs so hard he starts to slap his leg. You watch him to make sure he does not choke on his food. “Tell her how long it took you to eat mac n cheese again,” he says with tears in his eyes. “Jesus H. Christ, Wayne,” Eddie says amusingly as he watches his uncle have an entire laughing fit. “I didn’t try it again until I was like 16 years old,” he replies defeated. “He was 16, y/n! Can you believe that? I kept trying to tell him that it’s not supposed to taste like that but he never believed me,” Wayne shakes his head and smiles. Eddie shakes his head along with him, sucking his cheek in between his teeth. He watches his father figure with an abundance of happiness and pride. You involuntarily smile as you watch the two interact. You are happy that Eddie has someone like this in his life. 

“So, y/n. Tell me about yourself!” Wayne says as he takes another bite of his dinner. Your eyes completely widen. You begin to stutter. “U-uh, about myself, huh?” you say with a smile and an awkward laugh. Your heart begins to race. Your palms sweaty. Why were you not prepared? This is a classic question for someone to ask. You should have rehearsed a speech. You should have practiced in the mirror. You should have - “Y/n, here, loves metal just like me,” Eddie says. He is truly your fucking hero. You sigh in relief as you watch Wayne direct his attention towards Eddie with a smile. “Oh, a woman after your heart, huh, Ed?” he asks as he bumps into his shoulder once more. Eddie laughs as he looks down at his hands and back at you. “You could say that,” he mutters under his breath. 

“Yeah, I’m a big fan of Metallica, Iron Maiden, Dio - the works,” you share with a smile, following Eddie’s lead. “Do you only listen to rock?” Wayne asks. You think to yourself and reply, “Well, I’m a big fan of almost everything honestly. I love the oldies, classics, pop, disco. Not country, definitely not country.” You laugh, loosening up a bit in front of him. “I can respect that,” he replies with an impressed nod. “What kind of oldies are we talking?” You tap your feet together as you lose yourself in thought. “Um, I’m a big fan of Elvis, Nat King Cole, Ricky Nelson, Little Richard, The Chordettes, Chuck Berry - of course,” you answer with your eyes to the ceiling as you continue to think. Eddie watches you in awe, learning something new about you, falling deeper in love with you. 

“What’s your favorite song from Nelson’s?” Wayne asks, suddenly very serious. It catches you off guard. “I think it’s called Lonesome Town?” you say hesitantly. Wayne immediately jumps from his seat and rubs his hands, just like Eddie does. “I have an old cassette of his songs! I think I have that one,” he says as he rushes towards the cabinet underneath the cassette deck. You smile and look towards Eddie. He smiles as he extends his hand to you. You blush as you place your hand in his and walk over to the living room. “Ah! Here it is,” Wayne says excitedly. You turn towards Eddie, “Have you heard this one before?” Eddie shakes his head no. It is his turn to stand back and observe the two people he loves most in the world interact. 

The music begins to play. The acoustic guitar fully represents the sadness and loneliness expressed in the song. You are still baffled by how something so sad can be so incredibly beautiful. Wayne moves his head to the beat of the guitar’s strums. There’s a place where lovers go, to cry their troubles away. You begin to hum along the amazing vocals of Ricky Nelson. Your eyes close as you take in the sweet melody. “And the only price you pay, is a heart full of tears,” you sing softly. “Going down to Lonesome Town, where the broken hearts stay.” Without your knowledge, your body begins to sway. You hear an accompanying voice sing along with you. “Maybe down in Lonesome Town, I can learn to forget.” Your mind is trapped in a trance. You typically listen to this song to escape from your life, but you realize that you may not actually want a break from life right now. 

As the session singers vocalize the last few words of the song, you slowly open your eyes. You note Eddie watching you with a huge smile. He squeezes your hand once he realizes you were back in reality. “Hey, we make a bring good singing duo,” Wayne says with a chuckle as he pauses the cassette. You giggle and suggest, “Play another one. Round two, Wayne.” Your body finally feeling loose and safe with this new person to talk to in the Munson household. “I would, darling, but I gotta head to my next site,” he says with a saddened inflection. “Aw, shoot,” you say. You truly find yourself disappointed. “Next time? We can try some Chuck Berry. Eddie, over here, can play his guitar,” he suggests. You excitedly turn towards Eddie so quickly it almost shocks him. “Of course,” he replies. 

“It was very nice to meet you, y/n. Thank you so much for dinner,” Wayne says as he places a familiar comforting hand upon your shoulder. Another wonderful thing Eddie got from him. You look up to him with endearing eyes. “It was awesome to meet you, Wayne. Can’t wait for next time,” you respond with a wave of your hand. “See you, Wayne. Be safe,” Eddie says with a nod. Wayne looks back towards him, “Always, kid.” You watch as this hero of a man walks out of the trailer.

You turn towards Eddie and release a loud sigh. “You were good, baby. Real good,” he shares. You roll your eyes and land your forehead against his chest. “That was hard,” you mumble. “It was, but you were incredible,” he adds as he brushes the hair from your face. “I am so lucky to be with you.” A tightened smirk falls upon your face. “Stop,” you say with a pat to his bare arm. 

“I think it might be time for your surprise” Eddie says with a curious tone. You watch him as you squeeze his biceps and land a soft kiss onto his cheek. “What is it?” you ask with a raised brow. “Follow me,” he says ambiguously. You squint your eyes as he leads your hand down towards the hallway. “Wait, Eddie. I gotta do the dishes,” you worriedly say. Eddie turns back to you. “Love, you cooked. I clean,” he whispers against your temple. He kisses you gently. You nod with a smile and follow him towards his bedroom. 

The lights are initially off as you enter the room. You walk in curious and are immediately blinded as Eddie flicks on the light. Your eyes slowly adjust to the bright light. That is when you see what is on his bed. Your mouth drops at the sight. “Eddie,” you mutter under your breath. There lay a set of handcuffs. His black skulled bandana that always hangs from his back pocket. Rose petals lay scattered across the mattress. You also note the two whipped cream cans resting on his bedside table. You gulp as you look back towards him. “What do you think?” he says with bouncing brows. “Fuck, Eddie,” you express excitedly. You watch him for your next instruction. 

“I hope this is okay,” Eddie says as he squeezes your hand. “Oh, fuck yeah. This is way more than okay,” you scoff. He smiles as he brings you in to a deep kiss. His soft lips leaving you in absolute bliss. His hand lightly gripping onto the back of your hair. He abruptly pulls away and makes intense eye contact. You do not break the eye contact and watch him intently. “We need to decide who’s getting handcuffed and blind folded, y/n,” he says. “Oh my god. I just assumed it would be me. Oh shit, I am fucking loving this,” you say as you squeeze your hands into fists with a thrill. “How are we going to decide?” 

Eddie releases his hand from yours and gestures for a game of “Rock, Paper, and Scissors.” You giggle in surprise. Such an important decision determined by a child’s game. You immediately raise your hand and prepare to begin the match. “Best out of three or anything?” you ask, completely prepared to win. “Nope, just one round - given any ties,” he answers with one raised brow. “Sounds perfect,” you reply with a hint of intimidation. “Rock, paper, scissors, shoot!” you both say. Both of you look down towards your hands. Eddie chose rock, of course he did. You chose paper. “What! I thought you’d choose scissor,” he exclaims with a huge smile. 

You shake your head with the biggest grin you could manage. “Get your ass on the bed, Munson,” you say as you walk into him, causing him to sit on the edge. “Oh shit, baby. I like this,” he says as he places his hands on your waist. You immediately throw them off of you. His eyes intently watching you with excitement. “Not. Until. I. Say,” you say as you tilt your head to the side. “Fuck,” he elongates the word and quickly moves his hands to his side. He pulls tightly against his sweatpants. “Payback’s a bitch, baby,” you mutter as you slowly raise your leg to straddle his lap. “Mhm,” Eddie says with a feverish nod and a crack to his voice. 

With a devilish smile, you pull your shirt over your head. Eddie breathes heavily against your chest as your tits rest right in front of his face. His grip onto his legs tighten. You reach behind your back and unhook your bra. Your hand quickly catches the bra at its middle. Your other hand slowly pulls down each strap, until you finally let it slide off of your body and onto the mattress. His breath shakes against your skin. His eyes gradually make their way to meet yours. “Ready for this, big boy?” you ask as you place a gentle hand on the back of his neck. “Yes, I trust you,” he says. He acknowledges that you truly do not understand how meaningful that statement is for him, but he hopes to show you one day. 

You lean on top of him, pushing him onto his back. Your bare tits grace the tops of his face as you reach for the familiar bandana. You link your finger into one hoop of the handcuffs. Coming back to him, you look down at his gorgeous brown eyes. A part of you is sad that you will be covering them shortly, but thinking about how vulnerable he will be shortly makes it all worth it. You smile down at him, as you straddle him powerfully. He watches you with excitement and adoration, as though you were his queen. He would do anything for you and he wants you to do everything to him.  

“Sit up,” you kindly instruct. With a beaming smile, Eddie leans up. His chest tight against your breasts. His brunette curls resting beautifully atop his shoulders. His eager eyes watching you. His supple pink lips causing electricity to fire through your body. You never imagined having such love for another being. To be completely entranced by the smallest details of his face. “Hm, take this off,” you demand as you pinch a bit of his shirt away from him. You bite your lip as you watch a smile grow across his face. “Yes, Mrs. Munson,” he says as he tugs on the bottom of his shirt. He pulls it over his head. His hair flopping back down. 

You scoot closer to him on his lap, pressing yourself against him. You wrap your arms around his neck. His soft hair resting on your forearms. “Now, I’m going to need to get these pants off, but I don’t feel like moving,” you playfully share. He smiles and responds, “Don’t you worry about that. I got it.” He slowly lays onto his back, escaping your embrace. He then lifts his hips, lifting you as well. You gasp. He tugs onto the sides of his sweatpants and manages to pull them down with some mild adjustments to where your body rests on him. “There you go,” he says proudly. You lean back down to kiss him gently. 

“Thank you, Eddie,” you say with a chuckle. You then reach over to your side and grab the handcuffs. He watches you with excitement, but also with a twinge of worry in how he’s biting his lip. You cuff his right hand first and look back down towards him. “Is this okay, baby?” you ask concerned. He smiles, “Yes, I trust you.” You grin and nod as you sling the cuffs around a metal piece of his headboard. “What’s our safe word?” You ask with a pause. You want him to feel as safe as possible. “Puppets,” he says quickly as he clearly licks his lips, watching your body. “Puppets it is,” you say with a laugh. “Okay, here we go, Eds,” you smirk as you cuff his left hand. He looks at you worried as he nervously laughs. Your body bounces on him as you feel his laughter move through his abdomen. 

“Where’s my bandana?” Eddie asks as he watches you. He recognizes you see his worry and appreciates your concern. You smirk, reaching for the bandana. You wrap it around his eyes and head. You are careful not to catch any loose curls into the knot. The last thing he sees is your beautiful eyes staring back into him. “Ooooo shit,” he expresses as he tightens against the cool handcuffs. You watch as this handsome, soft, gentle man is now under your complete control. His deep black tattoos desperate for bites. You lean down to kiss his eyes through the bandana. One soft peck for each one. With that, he begins to relax. You place another kiss onto his cheek. Another onto his jawline. One more on his neck. 

Eddie’s mouth opens as he releases soft gasps with each unexpected and ticklish sensation. You finally kiss his lips. His mouth almost bites into you with extreme passion. You lean into it and slide your tongue within his mouth. His crashes against yours in an intense embrace. You begin to feel that recognizable hot white feeling in your chest. Your hands slide into his hair. Your hips begin to move up and down as your kiss grows more passionate. You catch yourself moaning into him, moving feverishly. 

Abruptly, you pull back from your kiss but continue to ride him in your straddle. “Oh god,” Eddie mumbles as he feels your body grinding against him. You feel the familiar hardness within his boxers. It begins to tickle your entrance. You let out soft moans as your clit screams for attention. Eddie moans alongside with you. He loves the way your pussy warms his cock. You quickly release him from your grasp and adjust yourself so that you are laying upon your stomach beside his waist. He releases a quick whimper as he is sad to feel you leave his hips. “Mmm, no crying, Eddie,” you whisper as you place a kiss onto his brown happy trail. He gasps and slightly kicks up his legs as he, again, did not expect you in that area. You giggle as you watch him squirm. 

“Oh fuck, y/n. I feel like my skin is on fire,” Eddie mumbles as he leans his body into your kisses. “If you’re on fire, I should probably take this off,” you softly say into the air. He moans lightly in anticipation as you slowly pull down the waistline of his boxers. You watch as his hardened, thick, red-tipped cock flips onto his stomach. “Aw, you’re so ready for me Eds,” you taunt. “I could just eat you up.” He whimpers as he tightens his arms against the handcuffs. “Oh god, yes,” he blubbers. “Do you want me to?” you ask as you place kisses upon his protruding hip bones and everywhere but his firm cock. “Yes, I want you to,” he murmurs almost immediately. “Hm, I feel like you don’t really want it,” you say as you trace your tongue up his stomach and towards his chest. 

You place kisses onto his pecks as you feel him shake beneath you in anticipation. “I really fucking want you to, baby. Please,” Eddie begs with little whimpers. “Louder,” you whisper against his skin. Your tongue travels to his nipple and circles it as he continues to release shaky breaths. “Please! Eat me up. Please, fuck, y/n!” he yells. You find yourself caught off guard, almost put to the point of breaking character. You fucking love it. His vulnerable naked body fully on display for you to devour. 

You lower yourself quickly and grab the base of his cock. This is met with a sudden gasp from Eddie, but the sweetest smile. You place the head of his cock onto your tongue. He involuntarily releases a rather large moan. “Oh fuck, baby. Holy fuck. Don’t stop,” he mumbles under his breath. His breathing intensified. His back arching. Beginning with little circles of your tongue, you sense the familiar salty taste of his precum seeping from his tip. “Shit, that feels so fucking good,” he groans as he strains against the cuffs again. “More,” he says breathlessly. You take more of him in your mouth. Each inch leaving him with intensified breathing and wiggling around. 

Amazing sounds ring through the air. It is almost as though you wanted to be blinded as well, just so your senses can solely focus on your hearing. The sweetest of moans you could have ever imagined escape his lips. While continuing your strokes, you take a moment to look back up to him. His beauty is incomparable.  You watch as his chest rises with heaving breaths. Perspiration has begun on his chest and forehead. His bandana still tight against his eyes, perfectly matching his aesthetic. His curly hair sticking to his forehead, but also lightly resting upon his chest and falling onto the pillow below him. You notice how his hips gently move with your strokes. His brunette curls leading you right to his incredible cock. How his body adjusts every so often, as if he is getting closer and closer. “You’re so fucking beautiful, Eddie Munson,” you state. He smiles and responds, “You should see how hot you look right now.” You laugh, “Shut up.” 

You return your tongue to his tip, right where you want to be. “Mmmm,” Eddie says with a tight lip. His body moving under you like a wave. You take more of him within your mouth. His cock now familiar. You are aware of what it likes, what it does not. What will make him scream in pleasure and what will make him cum almost immediately. You continue to stroke his cock as your tongue flicks atop his head. “Fuck, baby. Oh my gooood,” he expresses with an increasing volume. “You feel so fucking good. Shit, shit, shit,” he mumbles. “Your cock feels so fucking good in my mouth, Eddie,” you murmur as you take him in once more. “Oh god - fuck!” he yells as the chain from the cuffs smack against the metal. 

“Are you going to fuck my throat, baby?” you ask in a tauntingly innocent voice. “Oh, fuck yes!” Eddie howls. He begins to thrust harshly into your mouth. Grunts pour from his mouth with each intense movement. You widen your lips to take in the pressure as you bob onto his cock. “Fuck yeah, baby. Take it. Take it, like the dirty girl you are,” he groans. His body tenses as each lunge leaves him in a world of pleasure. Taking as much as you can, your eyes water as you squeeze his thighs. Your legs tighten as your clit calls for attention. 

You abruptly pull back with a loud gasp as you have reached your limit. Eddie continues to thrust into the air as he breathlessly attempts to speak. His cock flopping against his incredible body. “B-baby, you okay?” he asks with worry. His face looking in the completely wrong direction. “Yes, my love,” you answer once you have caught your breath. 

“I was just thinking about how good you’re feeling,” you whisper as you lean into his neck. Your finger tracing his sternum. “And how I was jealous.” He laughs as he rubs his cheek against your forehead. “Jealous?” he asks with a chuckle. “Yeah, I want to feel as good as you’re feeling right now,” you mutter as you carefully pull down your panties without making too much movement on the bed. “Oh yeah, baby? Do you want me inside that sweet pussy?” he asks with smirk.  

Quickly and carefully, you straddle his chest. “Yes, but not in the way you think,” you giggle. Eddie’s face lights up as he bounces in excitement. “Oh my fucking god,” he says quickly under his breath. Almost as though he did not want you to hear him. A smile sprawls across his face as he laughs in excitement. “You ready, love?” you ask as you lean down and brush strands of hair from his face. He breathes shakily against your body as he feels your breasts grace his lips and nose. The wetness of your pussy resting on his sternum. “God, fucking yes,” he mumbles as he licks his lips. 

You continue to giggle as you properly adjust your sit so that you rest atop his chin. Eddie raises his chin to meet your clit and immediately begins to go to work with his tongue. You gasp as you place one hand on his headboard, and the other hand atop his hair. “Oh shit,” you yelp quietly as your eyes roll to the back of your head. Just as much as you know him, he knows you. He begins by flicking his tongue on your bean. His mouth envelops your pussy, opening and closing, as he gives you soft kisses. 

“Eddie,” you whimper as your body crumbles from the stimulation. Eddie slathers his tongue up and down your folds. “Holy fuck. Holy fuck. Holy fuck,” you whisper under your breath. He moans against your body. The vibrations leaving you in an entirely new universe of pleasure. You catch yourself wishing that his hands were free. That you could feel the beautiful coolness of his rings against your sensitive spots. That he would be able to dig his nails down your back and grip your ass as hard as he can while he eats you out. 

Eddie abruptly lowers his chin to place his tongue deep within you. This is met with a loud whimpering moan as you grip tighter against the headboard and his hair. “Fuck!” you yell as he slides his slippery tongue around your walls. “Holy fuck,” you gasp as you slowly begin to ride his chin. Your hand releases from his hair and lands flat behind you against his chest. Your head leans back as you let your body take the wheel. You feel his waist buckling underneath you. He loves eating you out so badly that his dick is getting harder and harder with each lick. “Eddie,” you mewl as your moans louden. 

Suddenly, Eddie’s arms clink against the cuffs again. He is absolutely desperate to touch you. He sticks his firm tongue within you. You begin to bounce off of his tongue. “Holy shit,” you yell. Your voice cracking in the process. “Fuck, fuck, Eddie,” you mumble as you lift your leg and fall to his side. “Oh my god, baby,” he murmurs out of breath. “Let me keep going. You were so fucking close.” He licks his lips as he raises his chin. “I got something better in mind, Munson,” you say as you catch your breath. 

You finally straddle his hips, hovering over his twitching cock. “Oh shit, yes. Please, y/n. Please ride my cock,” Eddie begs intensely. “Please, god, let me feel your tight, gorgeous pussy take all of my cock.” You lose your breath once more as you have never heard him speak this way. And fuck, did you never want him to stop. Through your silence, he continues his begging. “Y/n, you are so fucking sexy. My beautiful baby. I need you to fuck me so fucking bad. I’m begging you. I need you. Please,” he pleads with increasing intensity. “Hmmm, I like this begging,” you share as you tickle the space between his ribs and hips. He gasps and lets out a silly involuntary giggle. You laugh in response as you tickle him a bit more. “Please fuck my cock. It w-want you so bad,” he mumbles through laughter. “Louder,” you instruct as you slowly lower yourself, brushing against his cock. “Fuck! Please sit on my cock. Please!” he yells at a high volume almost immediately. “Yes, Mr. y/l/n,” you answer. 

Slowly, you grab onto the base of Eddie’s cock. He gasps and whimpers. “Yes, baby. Thank you,” he mewls. You guide his cock to your hole and gradually lower yourself. You both release quivering breaths as you become one. “Y/n,” he whispers as he bottoms out within you. He begins to grind his hips against you. “I fucking love you,” he murmurs between groans. You place a hand upon his abdomen as you match his speed. “I love you, baby. Now, fuck me,” you demand. His face immediately shifts to his serious expression - his mouth tightened, teeth grinding, usually eyes furrowed. “Lean onto me,” he instructs. Without question, you place your other hand upon his chest and lean into your palms. 

With your ass now lifted, Eddie lowers his body and pile drives his hard cock within you. Your eyes roll back as your nails dig into his chest. “Eddie!” you gasp as your body bounces from the impact. “You take me so well, baby,” he says out of breath. “God, you feel fucking incredible!” he yells. All you can hear is your bodies smacking against each other in the dead of night. His marvelous moaning. His deep breaths as he continues to bottom out slowly. Your entire body feels as though it is going to explode. You could stay right here and cum on his dick over and over for all of eternity. 

You begin to take the lead by heavily digging your hips into Eddie’s. Your grinding harsh, but feeling so good. He moans, “Oh god. Oh god.” You claw your nails into his chest. Leaning forward onto him, you whisper, “Are you a good listener?” You continue to grind upon him, but add backing into his dick to your repertoire. “Yes, baby. The fucking best,” he murmurs in response. “Okay then,” you reply. You lean closer to him. Your chest fully against his. His breathing hardens against you. “You better cum so fucking hard that you’re pouring out of me,” you quietly state. “Oh shit,” he whines with a crack of his voice. You push off of his chest and begin to bounce on his cock. 

With your body in command, you switch between grinding, bouncing, and backing onto his cock based on what your clit demands. Your clit rests against his beautiful curls. Every other movement leaves you with an incredible sensation that you fiercely attempt to feel again. “Shit, I need to see you!” Eddie screams. “I need to see you baby, please.” You continue to grind on his cock, hearing his pleas as little whispers in the back of your mind. 

“Puppets!” he yells. You are immediately pulled from your instinctual movements and rip his bandana off. “Are you okay?” you ask with concern. A beautiful smile grows upon his face. “Now, I am,” he smirks as he thrusts harder into you. You immediately land your hands back onto his chest in response.  

“You’re so fucking beautiful,” Eddie struggles to say. Your eyes close in response to his firm girthy cock dipping deeper and deeper into you. Your mouth hangs open as weak moans fall from your lips. Upon watching you, he begins to feel that overwhelming sensation and buckles his hips. “Oh fuck, I’m going to cum! I’m going to cum, y/n,” he yells. Your eyes immediately open as you watch his mouth slowly widen. “Cum for me, baby. Cum inside, please,” you beg. He groans a loud and elongated “FUCK! Y/N!” as he cums deep within you. His wrists now with a bright red ring around them. “I’m cumming!” you yelp. He immediately thrusts himself into you to feel your beating walls grip onto his thickly veined cock. “Eddie!” you scream as electricity shoots through your body. Your pussy pulsating heavily against him as you breathe through the mind numbing pleasure. 

Eddie groans one last time as he pushes inside you. You immediately collapse against his chest. Both of you are heaving and trying to catch your breaths. “Holy shit,” he mumbles against the top of your head. “I can barely pick my head up,” you share weakly. He laughs frailly. “Take your time, my love. I love you so fucking much,” he replies as he places a kiss onto your forehead. You slowly move your head to look at him, smiling. “Oh fuck, Eds! Let me take this off,” you say as you quickly reach for his wrists. 

“Wait, where’s the key?” You look around with worried eyes. He smiles, “In my back pocket.” You immediately make your way off the mattress and dig your hand into his pant’s pocket. You find the small key, holding it up for him to see. That’s when you catch a glimpse of him. His soft, slathered dick resting against his curls. Beads of cum rest lightly upon his skin. His breathing heavy. Sweat drenches his tattoos. His hair completely stuck to the sides of his face and forehead. His hands flopped over the cuffs. His rings on full display. “God, are you fucking beautiful,” you say as you bite your lip. “You should see how you look, love,” he replies. You smile as you run towards the mattress and crash against him. You swiftly reach for the lock and release his arms from the cuffs. 

Eddie, finally sitting up, pulls away as he rubs his wrists. “Let’s tie me up for-fucking-ever,” he says with excited, yet tired eyes. His hands wrap around you and pull you in close. You giggle as you place a soft, long kiss upon his lips. “Maybe I can have a turn when I get back?” you suggest with puppy dog eyes and a pout. “Oh my fuck, yeah,” he answers as he bites your pouting lip. You wrap your arms around him, straddling his legs one last time. He holds you close against his chest as he places sweet kisses on the tops of your shoulders. Eddie’s embrace pulling you away from reality and into the safest place you could imagine. “I love you,” you mumble against his neck. He returns with loving eyes, “I love you.” 

Opening your eyes beyond his shoulders, you notice the whipped cream cans. “Oh shit! I forgot!” you say as you pull back from Eddie. His hands still tight against your lower back. He looks at you completely entranced and amused. “I forgot to use the whipped cream,” you sigh in disappointment. He turns to look at them resting on his bedside table. He immediately drops onto his back as he stretches his arm to reach for the whipped cream. You gasp as you crash against his body. He is finally able to get it and pops the cap off. “Open up, love,” he says sweetly. You open your mouth, struggling to maintain your smile. He presses down on the nozzle of the can. Delicious whipped cream lands on your tongue. He overfills your mouth and some falls upon your chest. “Eddie,” you say with a stuffed mouth. “I got it,” he smirks as he licks the cream off of your collar bone. 

The rest of your night with Eddie consists of a whipped cream fight, an abundance of cuddles and snuggles, and a debate about whether the Gremlins would be able to take on Cujo. Finally, both of your eyes begin to flutter. Your arm around his neck, his around your waist. Your leg between his. His between yours. Completely embraced, bare, vulnerable, and in love. “Baby, I don’t want to go to sleep but I’m struggling to keep my eyes open. I’m sorry,” he mumbles against your hair. “Don’t be sorry, baby,” you say as you curl into his neck. You pull him close for one last kiss to his neck. You whisper, “Good night, baby.” He places a peck against your forehead. “Sweet dreams, my love.” 

Your morning with Eddie consists of a tickle fight, pretending to have water powers in the shower and battling each other, making pancakes together and using the rest of the whipped cream to top them, cleaning the dishes, and convincing him to listen to Queen’s “Don’t Stop Me Now” and getting him to genuinely admit the song is “not half bad.”

As you begin to gather your things, you notice a shift in Eddie’s energy. You find his sadness completely understandable. You wish you could take him with you, to introduce him to the family, but you are worried about what they would do to him. What questions would they ask? What horrible shit would they say in front of him? You feel the sorrow as it could have been your first trip with Eddie, but your family takes something you want so badly away from you once again. 

Stepping into his van, Eddie slowly turns the keys in the ignition. You watch him as he rests melancholy against his seat. You both remain silent as he pulls out of the trailer park. “Baby, what are you feeling?” you ask as you place a concerned hand upon his thigh. He shakes his head as he bites on his lip. You recognize it might be too hard to verbalize his feelings right now. You squeeze his thigh. “Eddie, I love you so damn much. I’m going to miss you so damn much. I wish you could be there with me, so bad. I keep catching myself thinking about you coming and how we’d have so much fun exploring Chicago together. But my ...” you trail off. He adds, “Your family.” You nod, “Yes, baby. My family is nothing like Wayne. They aren’t as kind and welcoming. I cannot bring that craziness to my brother’s graduation, because it would pull all the attention away from him. He deserves all the attention this weekend.” You watch as his lip trembles. You grab hold of one of his hands. “My love, you are too good for my family. You will meet them, I promise, but we’re going to have to go through some rigorous training first.”

Eddie quickly looks over to you while wiping a tear from his cheek. With a weak smile, he asks, “Rigorous training, you say?” You laugh and nod your head. “Yes, Eddie. I’m going to have to prepare you for any and all situations with them. It’s going to be my ‘Cult of Vecna,’” you snicker to yourself. Finally, a strong, beautiful smile rips through his lips. “I could be your Kas,” he says. “Thank god,” you reply with a kiss to the top of his hand. He smiles as he watches you from the side of his eye. You smirk and scrunch your face towards him. He chuckles as he rubs his thumb against your finger. His cool ring leaving you with a soothing sensation. 

Your breathing starts to quicken as you see your house, as does Eddie’s. He pulls his van into the driveway. Placing it in park, he turns over to you. “I love you,” he says with a shaken voice. “I love you too, baby,” you say as you place your hands on his cheeks and bring him closer to you. “Eddie Munson, I’m going to come back for you. I’m going to come back for these soft lips,” you say as you kiss him. “I’m coming back for this nose,” you place a kiss on his nose. “I’m coming back for these beautiful eyes,” you say as you lightly kiss his closed eyelids. “And I’m definitely coming back for this,” you add as you lightly tap his groin. “Oh fuck,” he says with a laugh and looks at you with excitement. 

“I’ll call you tonight,” you comfortingly say. He smiles, “At 11. On the dot, y/n.” He places his ringed hand onto your cheek. “At 11. I’ll see you then,” you repeat with a smirk. You begin to climb out from the passenger seat. “I’ll see you then, love,” he bites his lip to hold them still. You squeeze his hand and place a kiss within his palm. You nod as you shoot him a reassuring smile. “Go on, get your sexy ass to school,” you laugh as you gesture for him to start backing up. Your heart already aching within your chest. You attempt to keep strong for him. “Yes, Mrs. Munson,” he replies with a smile as he backs out of the driveway. 

You stifle sobs as you wave goodbye. It may just be a night apart, but it feels a bit different when you’ve been sleeping together every night for the past month. You turn around and finally allow those tears to trail down your cheeks. Walking through your front door, you are immediately met with your mother rushing you to finish packing. You smile and nod. As you make your way to your room, you are stopped by your little brother, Pete. “Who was that?” he asks. “Buzz off,” you say as you swing your door open and slam it behind you. 

Your trip to Chicago has left you in a bit of an odd place. Eddie never answered. You desperately attempted to reach him, expecting that at least Wayne would answer the phone. You tried your hardest to battle your anxious side as to not call him fifty times last night. The entire car ride home, you have sat nervously, snapping your fingers together. You have every intention to steal the family car and drive to the trailer park. He said he would call. It was not like him to say something and not follow through. What the hell could have happened? 

As your father parks the car in the drive way, you immediately exit the backseat and wait for your family to unload the truck. You are not shocked that Eddie was not there like he said he would be. Your mother notices you waiting impatiently by the trunk. “Y/n, go put your clothes inside,” she demands. You look towards her. “I’m fine,” you retort. Your father walks over from the driver’s seat. “Get your shit and bring it inside,” he states. He grabs his luggage and walks off. You shoot your mother an annoyed look and grab your bag. You quickly rush inside and make your way through the kitchen. 

“Y/n,” you hear softly. With ‘pissed off’ written all over your face, you turn around to find your brother. “What?” you quickly reply. “You need to see this,” he says as he walks towards the living room. “Ugh,” you respond with annoyance as you slug your way after him. You hear the television blasting as you step into the living room. The news is on. “This is what you wanted to show me?” you ask Pete. He looks at you and answers solemnly, “A Hawkins high student died last night.” You immediately rush to the tv and turn the volume up. “The murder of a Hawkins high school student occurred late last night at Forest Hills Trailer Park,” the newscaster shares. 

Your heart drops as you fall onto your knees. You hold onto the arm of your couch, grasping for anything. You feel absolutely weak and flushed. Your body begins to slightly shake as you continue to watch in horror.

The news camera pans over to the trailer. Several people stand around it as police hold them back from entering. You notice the familiar curtains. The door Eddie always holds for you. The missing doorbell. The random cinderblock next to the back door. “I’m going to throw up,” you say as you attempt to raise from the ground. Pete grabs you before you fall again and holds you tight. That is when you hear it. “Our sources have shared that a young Eddie Munson is currently wanted for questioning and is Hawkin’s polices’ primary suspect.” 

With a pounding heart, you keep blinking and praying that this is all a dream. A really bad fucking dream. The news shows a snapshot of Eddie from last year’s Hellfire Club yearbook picture. Your body continues to shake. Pete slowly releases his embrace. “That’s the dude from yesterday,” he mutters. You look towards him in shock. “You’re dating a fucking murder, y/n?” he asks shaken. “No, no. This is all wrong. They have it wrong!” you answer harshly. You look towards him with hopelessness in his eyes as he watches you with disgust. 

“I gotta get over there,” you say. You quickly rush to the front door and grab the keys from their designated hook. You pass by your mother who wonders where you are going. Without answering, you jump into the driver’s seat and speed out of your driveway. Tears fill your eyes as confusion fills your heart. “What the fuck is going on?” you whisper to yourself. 

note: y’all catching what i'm dropping with these little easter eggs? shits about to go down... 🫣 thoughts?

season two posting now...

taglist: @eddi3sguitar @myfanficsideblog@gigii-m @fanlifeaamt @munsongirl86 @dragonfire @slutformurdock @elles-obsessions @radical-munson @babeyglo @dotslabyrinth @amethyst-serenade @vulcrum332 @wheaty-melon @demeterl @Ittflower99 @dp765 @mattymurdocksbitch @sinfulhoneybee @eddiemunsonshoney @hollysficlibrary @ghosttownwherenoonegoes @skyfall8600 @parkersroses @sad-darksoul @sammararaven @strangermeats @the-better-harrington @wayfaringstrangerrbmasterlist @perledusk @onlyfengs22 @poopiefartz @sramwrap @sweet-sunflower64 @vanstinajero @micxxmxilxpersonal @munsonology @floating-reddie @hellfire1986baby @sana-li @tayhar811 @neonlovebites​ @seidenbros​ @shescherry​ @munsonficdump​ @dreaming-of-fictional-characters​ @cherry-bomb-munson @the-irish-girl​ @theoreticslut​ @mydaiilyescape @itsanithemenace​ @fics-2b-read​ @sporadic-fandom-blowout​ @munsonology​ @princesseddie​ @dayydreamermaster​  love you guys btw. thank you for always coming back D;

• nav • no-no plagiarism • series