#and it never crossed my mind to even TOUCH the thermostat

[house-in-the-backyard-trees]

guys gals and nonbinary pals I think I am finally getting a backbone.

so yesterday my coworker said she was gonna go pick up garbage outside the hour before I was to leave. she ended up sitting in her car for that time. ticked me off but I was about to leave when I caught her so I didn't say anything to her. told my manager about it though. today, after she shows up an hour after her scheduled start time bc she forgot what time she started (everybody has days like that but it's literally all the time with her. yesterday she called me and asked what time she worked. like she's constantly late and it's not just a one time thing with her) she went outside a few times to get some food from her car. it was fine but I kept glancing outside to make sure that she wasn't going out there to sit again. the third time she goes out and started cleaning out her car like an hour and a half into her shift. I was like nuh uh so I armed myself with the garbage bags (I find I can yell at people better if I'm holding something lol) and went to check the trash and make sure that was what she was doing. But she had all her doors and her trunk open and a plastic bag in her hands. So I marched over there and said get inside now you are here to work not clean out your car and she said I'm getting to it and I said no now I am not standing in there and working all by myself while you get to be out here and clean out your car that is not what you're here for and she started going on about how she was just gonna leave and that they already cut her hours and I may or may not have said because you don't do anything. she pulls the 'i'm by myself all the time' crap which literally no the fuck she is not our manager changed the schedule so at most she is by herself like 2 hours bc she cannot be trusted to do literally anything alone or even with another coworker and I said you know what so am I i've been here alone since you got here and I kind of blacked out and forget what all I said to her. But we went back inside and there was three people in line bc it's a Sunday and right around when church gets finished up and we get BUSY. and then we didn't say a single word to each other the rest of my shift except for when I ordered a frappe (as a reward for yelling at her lmao) and I looked over at McDonald's to see if it was ready and I didn't know she was over there waiting for food but she was like IM JUST WAITING FOR MY FOOD like I was looking to see what she was doing and that I was gonna drag her back over to the registers by her ears. She ended up putting the dates on the pastries I had out thawing. Yelling at her makes her work apparently. bc she will literally just stand there and do nothing all shift perfectly content to let everyone else do everything. if she was gonna get on the phone and just stand there I was all fired up I was about to tell her that the cappuccino machine needed cleaned. I'm tired of being the only one that does stuff here and i'm tired of her getting away with everything. I'm so close to getting another job and I really don't want to bc I like this job it is easy when I don't have to deal with the bullshit and it's close.

[l1tw1ck]

Simeon's Devotion

Sub!Bottom!FTM!Priest Simeon x Dom!Top!AMAB!Holy Knight Reader

Word Count: 2,410

Reverend Simeon, plagued by sinful thoughts of a certain holy knight, is suddenly struck with a high fever and abandons his God

AFAB Language Used | 2K Anniversary Request: For a Simeon Fic | [Breaking the Thermostat]

CW: Non-Con, Heavy Religious Themes, Dom/Sub, Virginity Loss, Bleeding, Size Difference, Oral Sex, Cum Swallowing, Cunnilingus, Belly Bulge, Womb Fucking, Squirting, Creampie, Kidnapping

You knock loudly against Simeon’s doors, heavily injured. You hear the sound of shuffling and see the lights turn on inside. Moments later, he opens the door for you.

Simeon calls out your name in shock. “What happened to you?!” He helps you inside.

“Ran into some demons..” You murmur, sitting down on his couch. “Can you heal me?”

“Of course!” Simeon hastily removes your clothes, leaving you in just an undershirt and boxers. You're both already used to this. “How many this time?”

“I wanna say…30?” You watch him kneel down and use his divine powers on your wounds.

“30?! Did something attract them?”

“I’m not sure. I was on patrol and everything seemed normal. The monsters looked strange too. They all looked like distorted versions of God and they were muttering things like ‘sinner’ and ‘dirty’.” 

“That's strange..”

“Yeah, I’ve never seen anything like it before.” You reach to rub your temple but Simeon quickly heals your headache. “Could I have something to eat? I know you're probably tired so something like crackers would be fine.”

“You need to eat a real meal. I don't mind cooking for you. You can sleep over too, all your clothes are washed.” Simeon finishes your last wound and stands up. It's very common for you to sleep over at Simeon’s due to exhaustion since demons usually show up on the outskirts of town and you live a bit further away. “Think you can take a shower?”

You stand up and groan, the sound making Simeon twitch. “I think so. Thanks, Simeon.”

“God must be disappointed in you. So much for being a priest.” You say, staring at Simeon. He’s wearing sexy see through lingerie and an extravagant matching sheer silk robe. His legs are spread and he’s leaning against his bed frame. His tears are glistening against his cheeks, they’re shining like glitter. “You're nothing but a dirty sinner.” You move his panties aside.

Simeon looks at you, batting his eyelashes. Another tear falls down his cheek. “You’re my god now.”

“That’s right, baby. You’re mine.” You slowly begin to ease your cock inside him. “And I’m yours.” You press your hand against his pelvis, a pretty marking appearing on it.

Simeon suddenly wakes up moaning your name with his hand stuffed in his underwear. He gasps and yanks it out. He quickly wipes his hand on his clothes and begins to pray. “Please deliver me from temptation.” He repeats the same phrase over and over but as his body begins to grow hot, his prayer becomes strange.

“Please give me [Name]’s cock–” Simeon gasps and covers his mouth. “No…Forgive me— I need his co—” He covers his mouth again. He can't talk. He attempts to pray silently but that doesn't work either. It just makes him feel even more horny.

He begins to absentmindedly remove all of his clothes, his hands moving on their own to touch his wet pussy. He leans back, eyes out of focus, and begins to touch himself but he doesn't really know how. He just rubs his folds, which feel extremely sensitive. “I’m…I’m a sinner..” He mumbles, still out of it. “And a slut.”

“Only [Name] will accept me now.” Simeon brings his hand up to his tattoo and presses on it, a wave of pleasure flowing through him. 

He stumbles out of the bed and drunkenly walks to his guest room, where you’re sleeping. Knocking didn't cross his mind as he opened the door. 

“Si- Simeon?” You ask sleepily, sitting up. “Is something wrong?” You can't tell that he's naked. You move to sit on the side of the bed and squint at him.

“Yes..” He says quietly, stepping towards you. He kneels in between your legs. “I need you.”

“What?!” You recoil. “Are you okay? Are you drunk?”

“I’m not drunk.” Simeon presses kisses along your legs down to your feet. “I’ll do anything you want, [Name]. Anything.”

“I think you need to drink some water…you're not thinking straight.” You get off of the bed. As you try to head towards the door, Simeon stops you.

“I don’t need water, I need you.” He pulls you closer, he’s somehow stronger than before, and forces you into a kiss. It doesn't take long for him to pass on his ‘fever’ to you. Heat rushes through your body as your rational thoughts dispel like bubbles. He pulls away and looks at you lovingly. 

“Simeon...” You hold his chin, speaking with a loving tone. “How beautiful.” You mumble. He moans your name breathily.

“Kneel for me.” You order. Simeon kneels once again. You pull down your shorts and boxers at the same time. His eyes widen, hearts forming in them, when he sees your thick length. The process of becoming a Holy Knight can alter someone's body in major ways but he never knew it could change by this much. “Open your mouth.” You run your fingers through his hair.

Simeon opens his mouth and lets you slide your cock inside it. His mouth is unbelievably hot. He can feel the corners of his lips stretching to fit you. The thought of you stretching his pussy open next makes him moan. He stares into your eyes as you begin to thrust. You're sure they're glowing. 

“Your mouth feels amazing.” You moan. Simeon moans as well. “‘S perfect for me..” You speed up your thrusts. He happily allows you to fuck his mouth. He closes his eyes and focuses on your voice. He’s so aroused it's becoming painful.

You tighten your grip on his hair as your thrusts become unruly and desperate. He looks at you again, this time with tears in his eyes. But the tears aren't because he’s upset. “You look so pretty when you cry.” You groan as you come inside his mouth. You slowly pull away as Simeon swallows your seed without hesitation. You're still hard and you both want more. You pick him up and slam him onto the bed. Somehow, the both of you are able to see perfectly in the dark. Maybe it has something to do with the glow in your eyes.

You spread his legs and smile at how wet he is. The marking on his lower stomach glows faintly as you physically observe his pussy with your fingers. He squirms around cutely. You kneel in between his legs, mirroring what he did earlier, and bury your face into his pussy. Simeon moans. “Yes– oh- yes~!” He sucks in a breath. “[Name]~!” It's like he's ascended to heaven. 

You drag your tongue up to his clit and gently suck on it. It quickly and unnaturally swells in your mouth. It feels like he’s stuck on the edge of an orgasm, although it feels good nonetheless. You slip a finger into his hole and then another when you realize how easily it entered him, despite his tightness. “Ooh- oh, [Name]~” Simeon squeezes your fingers tightly as you attempt to finger him. The constant flexing of his walls make it difficult to move them but you don't mind. You’re more interested in how that’ll feel when you fuck him.

He can tell he's not going to come from this. He's not sure why, it feels like there's something blocking him from doing so. “Put…put your cock inside me, please~”

You smile and move away, standing back up. “Of course, my love.” You lick your lips and line up your cock with his pussy, slowly coating your tip with his slick. He bites down on his lip and uncontrollably twitches as you begin to sink into his sopping warmth. He throws his head back and grips the bed sheets while moaning shamelessly. You're barely inside him. His entire pussy is throbbing so heavily, it's almost like a second heartbeat. Blood soon spills from your penetration. 

The true representation of his sin.

He moans your name with his enchanting voice. Your cock ‘knocks’ on his cervix and strangely enough, it seems to be allowing your entrance. Like it wants you to enter his womb. You don't think about how that should be impossible and slide further inside him. “It feels– feels so—” He gasps, squirting. His eyelashes are fluttering rapidly.

“There you go, baby. Come for me.” You rub his clit with your thumb. He writhes around, no longer squirting but his cunt’s still squeezing you like crazy. He isn't able to think about anything at all, his brain is overloaded. The outline of his tattoo is becoming a bright blue. “Good boy…keep going.” You praise him.

Simeon wants to say your name again but he is completely unable to speak.

“Let’s make up for all your years of abstaining.” You start to thrust. He slowly comes back down to earth with each thrust you make. 

“Ah–” His eyes are sparkling with tears. “You’re so big…stretching me out~” 

“That’s right, I’m making your pussy fit the shape of my cock.” You slowly rub the bulge on his stomach, fucking him at a slow pace. “Your body’s gonna remember me and only me.”

“That's– that’s all I want~” Simeon moans. “Only you~”

“So pretty…” You brush his hair out of his face. He looks like a painting. You bring your hands to his waist and slowly build up to a faster pace. He reaches for you so you lean in. He wraps his arms around you.

“I love you.” He says in a shaky tone.

“I love you too.” You look into his eyes. For a brief moment, he realizes this isn't the real you, then he brushes it off. He feels strange. “My sweet Simeon.” You kiss him. The bed starts rocking due to your quickened thrusts. You separate from the kiss, some saliva dripping down his lip.

He looks down and notices the marking on his womb is glowing and the same color as his eyes. His desire has been satisfied. It’s all over. He looks up at you, suddenly shaking like a scared rabbit. The artificial light flickers out like a used lightbulb. He can't see you clearly anymore. The only lights are the glow in your eyes and the faint moonlight. “[Name]?” He asks.

“Hm?”

You're still…you’re not aware like he is. He suddenly feels disgusting. He forced you into this. Even if he wasn't completely conscious. He should tell you to stop, but he doesn't want to. Is it so wrong to want a little more? “I…I-” He stutters. “Come- come inside~” If he can't have you, maybe he can have a part of you.

You kiss his cheek. “Of course.” You come inside of him only moments later. It feels like he forced it out of you. You look at him with an exhausted but happy expression before passing out on top of him. He doesn't try to move you.

You slowly wake up. You look around the room and notice a stain on the floor that you didn't notice before. And your bedsheets seem to be different too. You also feel a little strange. Refreshed, but strange. You get up and leave the guest room. You can smell coffee so you go down to the kitchen. “You're up pretty early. Don't you usually sleep in on Tuesdays?”

Simeon shrugs, not looking at you. “I felt like getting up early today.”

“Well, I’m not doing anything today. Maybe I’ll make breakfast this time?”

“It's okay. I’ll make it.”

“If you insist.” You know you can't convince him otherwise. “I wanna do something for you though. You deserve a gift.”

“Protecting my town is more than enough.”

“You’ll never change, huh?” You chuckle. “You know, the bed sheets look different from last night. Am I crazy?”

Simeon breaks the mug in his hand. You shoot up from your chair and rush over to him.

“I- I’m okay.” Simeon heals himself. “There wasn't anything in it yet.” 

“Good. You…seem weird today.” You notice he's not making eye contact with you.

“I..” He presses his forehead onto your chest and frowns, tears forming in his eyes. “I did something horrible last night.”

“What do you mean?” You bring him into a hug and gently rub his back to comfort him.

“Please…please don't hate me.”

“How could I hate you?”

“Last night…something strange came over me. I wasn't fully in control of myself and I forced you to…to..” He begins to sob.

“Simeon?” You ask, concerned.

“I forced you to have intercourse with me!” He blurts out, pulling away from you. He turns around and doesn't look at you.

You pause. “It must’ve been the work of a demon. It's okay, it's not your fault. It wasn't my ‘first time’ but…was it yours?”

Simeon’s eyes widen. “That wasn't your first?”

“No.”

He bites down on his nail. “When?”

“Um…maybe a decade ago?”

“Before you became a knight? And you haven't since then?”

“...Yes.” You assume he's uncomfortable due to his beliefs.

Simeon sighs. You were ‘reborn’ during your ceremony so you’re technically a virgin but you still have the experience. “Are you going to remain celibate?”

“I…well, I hope to find someone in the future. To marry, of course.”

“Oh.” He clenches his fist. “Do you have anyone you’re interested in?”

“I suppose I’ve caught a liking to Solomon, he—”

Simeon whips his head around. The look in his eyes is scary. “No.” He grabs your shirt. “No. You can't. You can't leave me.”

“Simeon?” You look at him in disbelief.

“I…I’m not letting you leave.”

Simeon looks at you sleeping peacefully on his bed. He isn't sure how, but he caused you to pass out and he was able to carry you here. He didn't even break a sweat. Due to a holy knight’s ability to neutralize certain forms of demon magic, Simeon is sure he isn't using that as you would've been fine if he was. But that leaves more questions to be answered.

He slides his hand down to his lower stomach and touches the glowing blue mark on his womb. It hasn't gone away. What is it? If it's not demonic then is it holy? How could this be holy?

He gently caresses your face. “I’m sorry, but I can't allow you to leave.”

You’ll be missed in the order of the holy knights but no one will worry when Simeon tells everyone he has bigger plans for you.

[darkficsyouneveraskedfor]

The House Guest 6

Warnings: non/dubcon, 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.

Character: Bucky Barnes

Summary: an old acquaintance calls in a favour, leaving you with an unexpected house guest.

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 ❤️

You yawn as you wrap yourself in a towel. The shower was less refreshing than it was draining. The heat robbed you of the last of your energy. 

You listen through the door. It’s a small house. You can hear will beyond even those walls. 

You hug your clothes and flit across the hall, leaving a cloud of steam and scent behind you. You shut your bedroom door and sigh. You’re exhausted. It’s only in the that moment that you feel all the tension that’s been nipping away at you. 

It isn’t Bucky’s fault. You’re a loner. When someone else is around, you always feel like you have to be on. 

You grab your phone. The bars are low. Tomorrow you’ll figure out how you can bitch out Sam, or at least get an answer about how long you can expect your house guest to be around. 

You pull on a baggy sweatshirt and pair of flannel pants. You stretch out your neck and stand. You step into your slippers as you approach the door with a shadow of dread. It’s not that you feel unwelcome in your own home, just unsettled. 

You let yourself out and leave the door open. You try not to make too much noise as you come down the hall. The front room is dark. You hesitate before you enter the kitchen. 

Quietly, you take down a mug and a bag of chamomile. You put the kettle on and hover by the counter. You cross your arms and shiver.  

You give a start as you hear a click. You glance over as a shadow enters through the front door. You didn’t even hear him leave. Bucky peeks in as the kitchen lights glare over him and gives a small wave. He takes his time unlacing his boots as he leans a hand on the wall. 

“Hey,” he says. “Cold?” 

“Just a little. It’ll be winter soon enough,” you bring your hand up to the neck of your shirt and pinch the fabric. 

“I’ll be honest, can’t really feel it,” he shrugs. “I can get the fire stove going.” 

“Don’t worry about it. I’ll have my tea and turn up the thermostat,” you assure him, rocking on your feet. 

“Right, sounds good,” he taps the door frame and retreats. 

The kettle flicks off and you pour the water. You fill the cup and lift it gingerly, careful not to touch the side. You shuffle to the door and turn off the lights. You wade through the gloom, only the glow of the lamp in the front room offering a way forward. 

As you pass the wide doorway, your eyes drift over instinctively. Keep going. You quickly hurry back to your room and hide. Again, you caught him in a moment. The muscles of his back weave into your mind and you shake way the vision. 

You set the cup down and tuck your feet under the covers. You peer over at the black window panes. Up there, the night is unmetered by civilization. Even when there’s a full moon it’s desolate. The trees rustle and the nocturnal creatures stir. 

You nurse your tea over the last chapter of a novel. Eh, not your favourite ending but it makes sense. You shut of the glass lamp and settle down to sleep. Your ears prick in the silence of the house. 

Sleep doesn’t come easy and the shell that comes over you is more a dizzy daze. Not quite awake, not quite unconscious. You can still hear the shifting of the house and the steady wailing of the wind. Your eyes ache with fatigue and your head pulses but you just can’t sink into the depth. 

Your eyes roll open but your body remains still. Locked and lifeless. Your gaze flicks back and forth. You’re self-aware of the waking coma. Your body and mind are disconnected as you’re trapped between layers of sleep. It happens time and again. 

You can see the room clearly but the darkness is rippled. You can sense something looming over you but the dark is so dense, your mind can only summon a twisted fear of the hallucinations. You focus on trying to break the sleep paralysis.

Just a finger. Move your finger. Move. Bend. Anything. 

You gasp as you finger twitches and you wake with a jarring lurch. The bed jolts beneath you and your head spin. There’s a weight on your neck. You’re still dreaming?  

As you reach to touch the warmth around your throat, it recedes, a tickle along the fabric of your sweatshirt. You whimper and sit up, scrunching yourself up against the headboard. You search the void, squinting as you try to see anything. The floor creaks and you squeak again. 

“Hello?” You gulp. 

You blink and focus on the soft outline of the door. It’s open. You think. The fuzzy rectangle tests your sanity. 

You shimmy to the edge of the bed. That childhood fear of something reaching out from underneath to grab your ankles makes you nervous. You get up and put your arms out. You cross the room a step at a time.  

You find the wall and feel along it. You flip on the light switch and back away from the open door. You shut it, didn’t you? Or maybe you got up and don’t remember. It’s all a bit foggy in the hangover of your episode. 

The bathroom door opens across from you and you cry out in surprise. Bucky emerges in the shine of light and peeks over at you. You shake your head and cough. He stares back with a confused stitch between his brows. Don’t look at his chest. Don’t think about how he’s shirtless. Again. 

“Sorry, I... I just...” you sputter and back up.  

You shut your bedroom door and cringe. You leave the light on as you retreat to the bed and bury yourself under the blankets. You know better than to sleep on your back, although you don’t think you’ll be getting much rest after that humiliating display. 

[daengtokki]

Warm

Kim Seungmin/Female Reader

wc: 2.5k

rating: fluff/explicit/18+ (contains oral sex) ಇ

contains: domestic idol!Seungmin — oneshot written as a continuation of Blind Date! ૮ฅ・ﻌ・აฅ

✩彡

The room is cold. The two blankets you have tucked up over your head aren’t doing very much at all. You could get out of bed and turn the thermostat up, but that would require leaving this nest that you worked so hard to warm up.

It can’t possibly be morning though, so why are you awake? It feels like night still. It feels dark and cold and very very quiet.

You run your hand across the chilly sheet and feel for a body. Seungmin’s body. He’s not there. Why wouldn’t he be there? Now you’re forced to peek out and investigate. The room is pitch black, curtain closed tight, tv turned off (you distinctly remember falling asleep with it still on).

But the door is cracked, just a little bit. The faintest glow is coming through, and you can tell right away that it’s coming from the kitchen, possibly the living room.

You yell out his name, but it comes out like a feeble, sleepy groan. Shit, I’ll have to get up.

You try yelling again. This time it echoes through the room, but you’re not sure it made it through the crack in the door and into the kitchen. He doesn’t answer.

Slowly you sit up, keeping one of the blankets wrapped tight around your shoulders and chest. You swing your legs up and over the side of the bed and search the floor for a pair of slippers. None.

The bedroom is carpeted, but nothing else in the house is. Touching your feet down here is no big deal, so you tiptoe to the dresser and pull out a pair of his socks. It takes some work to get into them, seeing as how your joints are frozen, but you manage.

Now to find Seungmin. He doesn’t mind the cold as much as you do, but he can’t be enjoying this.

The floor creaks as you cross the hallway. It’s definitely one of the kitchen light glowing, but the living room is lit up now as well. He’s standing by the kitchen sink, electric kettle in one hand, the other stuffed into his hoodie pocket.

“Minnie!”

He jumps, spilling water hot water onto the counter. “Fuck!”

“Sorry.” You shuffle closer to him, “I yelled for you, twice.”

“Why are you being so sneaky?!”

“I yelled for you!” You whisper it this time. “Why is it so cold? Why are you up?”

“The heat won’t kick on.” He finished pouring hot water into his mug. “And I woke up…couldn’t get back to sleep. Do you want some?”

You look into the mug as he stirs his hot chocolate, “yes please…you know, this never happened at my old apartment.”

“Your old apartment was always a thousand degrees.

“Yeah, that’s true.”

He gets into the cupboard again and pulls out your mug. “Pick one.” He gives you two different hot chocolate options. You choose the mocha one.

“My body knew you weren’t there.”

“That’s cute.”

“I know,” you walk up behind him and wrap your arms around his waist. He’s still pretty warm. “Are you coming back to bed?”

He mmhmm’s you and hands you your mug, “we will worry about the heat tomorrow, I guess.”

“Good.”

——

You set your mug on the bedside table and crawl back into your chilly pile of blankets. Seungmin finds the tv remote first and clicks it back on before doing the same. The glow in the room makes it feel a little warmer; the hot chocolate helps a little, too.

“Your legs are cold.” He pulls you a little closer when you wrap yourself around him. “Pants would probably help.”

“Yours are warm.”

“You’re gonna suck all of the warm out of me.”

“That’s usually the plan.” You bury your face against his side and relax. He yawns and pushes himself a little further under the covers. It’s comfortable. And it’s warm.

“Seungmin?”

He lets out a soft yeah. It’s almost a whisper, and it sends a little chill down your back. You almost forget what you were going to say.

“I’m not very tired anymore.”

“You just have to get warm again.” He rubs his hand in circles over your back, but that just wakes you up even more. “Close your eyes.”

Instead of closing your eyes, your fingers find the hem of his hoodie and make their way underneath. You can hear his reaction in your head before he even notices what you’re doing.

He flinches and you can feel his stomach flex under your cold palm, “no no no!” His sets his hand over yours on top of the fabric and kicks his feet, but you have him trapped. “You’re so mean.”

You pull your hand back out and push yourself up on the bed a little, just until you’re face to face with him. He’s smiling—you kiss around his mouth until he closes his lips for you. But you only peck them once before moving along his jaw and to his neck.

“Oh, you’re really not tired.”

“Are you? I can stop.” You climb on top of him anyway and work your way across his throat—at least where you can get to with his clothes still in the way.

“I’m good.”

You shove both hands under his hoodie and slowly move your palms up either side of him. His hips shift under you; stomach tightens, a little sound escapes his lips.

“Your hands are so cold,” he laughs and brings you in closer, pulling the blanket up over your shoulders at the same time. “Come here.”

You latch onto his mouth again and kiss hard until he relaxes into his mound of pillows. One of your hands move down from his ribs and along the outside of his waist and hip, kneading gently until you get a handful of thigh. He jumps a bit— he’s ticklish— but settles back immediately when you soften your touch.

He makes more room for you between his legs. You take the opportunity to slide your open palm to his inner thigh and underneath his shorts. Seungmin moans into your mouth when you touch him, and then giggles, “just take them off, please don’t tease me.”

“Don’t worry, I won’t.” You can’t tease him the way he teases you, you’re too impatient for that. “I mean, I will…” you sit up on your knees and look at him. The blanket slips from your back and piles up behind you, “…take them off,” you finish your thought as you look down at his legs spread open in front of you.

He’s propped up on his elbows, looking down at himself, and then at you. You reach behind for the blanket and throw it over your head, and then disappear under it.

“So I don’t get to wa—” he stops abruptly and laughs. “Oh, be gentle please.”

“I always am,” your voice is muffled between him and the thick blanket. You pull gently at the waistband of his shorts until they come down just a bit, showing more soft skin. You place a kiss there and Seungmin flinches and you can see him hard and twitching beneath the fabric already.

“That’s teasing.”

You sush into his stomach and wrap your hand around him, still keeping his shorts on. He bucks his hips up again, this time much harder, so your hand slides smoothly over him. When he settles back on the bed, you pull down the fabric until the head of his cock peeks out. You put your lips on him and listen carefully for any little sound he might make.

He doesn’t disappoint. His groan comes out husky, and his stomach sucks in as he keeps himself steady. Your tongue slides up and over, and then down the length of him, getting him as wet as possible.

Just as you’re working him as far into your mouth as you can manage, you feel a cold burst of air. You don’t let it distract you, but as you slowly come back up, you sneak a look at him, and he’s smiling down at you. You can just make him out in the glow of the tv.

“That’s much better,” he says it in almost a whisper, “do it again.”

You don’t look at him, but you listen. His cock disappears completely in your mouth again. You hold him in as long as you can manage, and right before you slowly release him, you feel his hand brush the side of your face.

Now you lock eyes as you slide him out, making a mess of spit as you go. His mouth hangs open a little and one corner of his mouth twitches into a grin. You take him fully in your mouth once more before wrapping your fingers around him.

Seungmin lays back and sighs, enjoying the steady grip of your hand and the warmth of your mouth. You listen to the little hitches in his breath as you speed up—slow down—speed up a little more.

Suddenly his hand is on the back of your neck. You didn’t notice him sit up again. Now he’s looking down on you, gripping you tight but letting you keep your own pace.

You moan when he hits the back of your throat, and he holds you there.

“Do you like that?” He speaks softly, still kneading into your neck, but gently, and with just enough pressure to keep you there.

Another moan to answer him. Your eyes start to water, and you pull him in a little deeper even though you know you shouldn’t. You need to come up for air.

He senses it and softens his grip on you, runs his hand down your back until he can reach the hem of your sweatshirt, and pulls it up. The tips of his fingers tickle as he slowly moves them over your skin, and you have no choice but to release him. You put your hands to work so you can catch your breath.

“That’s good,” he wipes at your messy lower lip with his thumb and holds your gaze as you stroke him. His eyes flutter closed and he bites down on his lip to try and stifle a groan, but it comes out like a desperate mmm instead. He laughs at himself before looking down at you again.

“It must be,” you get up on your knees and pull him closer with your free hand so you can kiss him, but all you manage is a few bites at his lower lip. He grabs your hips and pushes you down hard on the blankets.

Just for a moment, you remember the coldness in the room, but Seungmin is on top of you before it matters. He kisses at your neck and pulls at the collar to get to more skin. His hands reach under your sweatshirt and fingers brush over hard nipples, but doesn’t attempt to pull it off of you. In fact, he pulls it back down over your stomach as he kisses further and further down.

“You’re still cold,” he laughs and hooks his fingers in the band of your underwear, slides then down your legs and discards them. Then his hoodie comes off— also thrown to the floor, before he leans forward and sucks at the skin on your inner thigh.

This he does for an achingly long time, because he’s much more patient than you, and so much of his pleasure comes from the wait. Even when you whine his name, he acts like he doesn’t hear—just keeps kissing and licking at his own pace.

Eventually though, he does give in. His hands slide roughly over your thighs and he pushes them even further apart. You feel his warm breath on you first, then his mouth. The contrast of the cold room and the heat of his tongue gives you goosebumps all over.

You know he’s holding himself back, but it’s still enough to get a whimper out of you. He moans back in response, and then the heat is gone. When you peek down at him, he’s looking back, mouth hovering inches above you.

“Minnie…”

“Yeeaaah?”

He goes back down and kisses your thigh again.

“Stop”

“I did”

“You’re a jerk”

“I know,” he closes his mouth over you and runs his tongue up until he hits your clit. His lips close around it and he licks gently until you push your hips into his face. You can feel his teeth graze lightly against you, and it makes you shudder.

You push into him again and reach down to run your fingers into his hair. He lets out a gravelly moan and you feel the vibration run through you, but he holds you down to keep you from moving.

Lips close tight around your clit again so he can suck. You can hear the little kissing noises he deliberately makes every time he releases you and latches back on again. It’s too much, and you feel yourself getting close to coming. You were already halfway there before he pushed you back onto the bed.

He stops again—makes his way back to your thighs—sits up again and looks at you, gives you his best cute, innocent smirk. It would be innocent, if it wasn’t for the wet mess all over his lips and chin. He dives back down and teases…uses the tip of his tongue to just barely touch you. It sends little sparks of pleasure through you, but it’s not enough. He knows that.

You tug his hair again. It gets his mouth moving. He licks and kisses, and you have to focus on not coming yet, because you want it to last so much longer. He adjusts himself for better leverage, and two fingers slide in easily, reaching and pushing at just the right spot. He presses and licks hard, like he’s trying to make his tongue and fingers meet.

Seungmin looks up at you, lips tight around your clit. You can’t hold it off anymore. It rises again, slowly. You’re warm all over, your thighs start to shake despite his grip on them. A smile lights up in his eyes when you buck your hips to his mouth. You let yourself cry out, a mix of fuck and oh god and Minnie fills the room.

He lightens his touch and flicks his tongue across you until your hips lift and you cry out again, loud enough to echo through the room. The release lasts longer than you expect, and he doesn’t slow down until your moans turn into steady, heavy breaths.

But when you settle, he keeps eating, unable to get enough. You reach for his hair and pull again, because now you’re too sensitive and his mouth is too much.

He stops, gives you a moment, then slides his tongue over you once more, just to see your body shake again.

“Minnie,” you breath out, this time a little more coherent. He’s kissing his way up your stomach, but you hear his little hmm? from under your sweatshirt. “Come here.”

You gently tug at him until he pops out and looks at you with sleepy eyes.

He plants a loud kiss under your jaw. “Yes?”

“I wasn’t finished with you.”

“No, that finished me,” he laughs into your ear and tucks his arms underneath you. “Now I’m tired.”

“And cold.”

Seungmin lifts and drops you down on the pillows before pulling the blankets up to his neck. He folds himself around you, pulls you tight against him, and places a kiss on top of your head.

[mister-eames]

@elleeffsee Ok but now I need how they get together and all the feels 🥺 please?? I beg you 😭

Gosh there are so, so many ways this could unfold (and why we have a breadth of so many great fics!). I've imagined it one hundred different ways!!! If I could describe my perfect scenario, I think of how messy these two individuals are, and how seriously they feel about each other and my mind goes rampant.

There is a line I think about so much in one of my fave fics (Mutually-Assured Seduction by laceymcbain) that says about Arthur and Eames getting together: "I thought it would be like watching tigers circle. It's more like circus clowns on those tiny bicycles."

I think it would be a lot like that.

My go-to is always forced proximity. Forced to realise what they have together, what they could have together - what they are at risk of losing now that they've had it for a while. Whether that's fake/pretend relationship, being stuck in a safehouse/stuck sharing a living space for work. Or literal forced proximity, like being stuck in a cupboard.

And there is a moment of intimacy - of kissing, finally getting there hands on one another and have you ever felt a certain way, when you love someone and they touch you, and you know your body is not the same as it was before? It will take an entire shedding cycle of your cells for you to feel like yourself again.

They've already crossed that threshold of doing it once, right? Like ripping off the bandaid - the scab they've been trying to protect is now exposed so if they do it once again, what's the issue? And then what's the harm in doing it again - ?

Suddenly it becomes more than just something that sets your skin on fire - it becomes a source of comfort - to yourself, and to the person you're touching, the person you're kissing - when you share an intimate moment to make someone else feel better, to feel appreciated, you're already in love, friend, and now you've got receipts all over your DNA that you can't cash in. And maybe Arthur and Eames get into an argument over something stupid at that point, they've been living out of each others pockets enough to get comfortable to fight over something petty like dishes that haven't been soaked or wasting electricity or the thermostat settings and it blows up into something else entirely, something deeper and more serious, it becomes a shouting match and one yells "if you don't like it, you can just leave!"

And the other does, they're gone for five hours, or a day, and it doesn't matter because its long enough for the heart-wilting, nauseating realisation that they will never get this thing again with the other person, and god they're so fucking stupid for thinking it could ever just be a handful of kisses, of touches, that their feelings would not influence how they hold each other. They go back, to finish the job, expecting to be heartbroken all alone, to carry on like coworkers ---except their bodies know each other so well, they could come back together and meet in the middle even with their eyes closed.

And they nearly do, colliding in a heartfelt, near violent kiss, clutching at each other as if trying to imprint the other person the same way they have them. People who don't have feelings for each other don't kiss like this right?

Yeah.

THAT BEING SAID aha I do also love the very quiet ways in which they get together. Man meets man, asks him to dinner, and there they have been together ever since. They just have a quiet, solid relationship from before the movie all throughout it.

They're just amazing, these two. They can do it all!

[its-not-a-phase-mom-i-d8-demons]

"I'm a virgin." feat. Lucifer and Diavolo

Pairings: Lucifer x Female!Reader and Diavolo x Female!Reader

Word Count: 1.6K

Warnings: no real smut, very fluffy and cute, lucifer is drunk tho, edgeline suggestive stuff

A/N: For virgins, from a virgin. my religion said no

Lucifer

After spending hours of fruitless tossing and turning in bed, trying to get warm beneath your piles of blankets, you finally gave up. Wrapping a cotton sheet around yourself, you dragged your shivering body from the bed and off to the room of the eldest brother.

If he was still awake, you would ask him why your room was so cold and how to fix it.

To your delight, dim lamplight glowed through the crevices in the door so you knocked softly. While you waited for a response, you detected soft music coming from inside and couldn't help the little smile you gave when you realized it was the vinyl you purchased for his birthday.

The door opened to reveal a sleepy and rather tipsy Lucifer; hair no longer perfectly slicked to one side, a gentle smile on his lips, a crystal glass on his ungloved hands, and the first few buttons of his shirt undone.

"Good evening, love. It's a bit late, is something wrong?"

His voice was so low and soft... you wondered just how much demonus he had consumed since he'd stalked up to his room after movie night.

"Nothing terrible, just my room is super cold and I don't know why." You responded, "Is there a way to change that? Is there such thing as a thermostat in the devildom?"

Lucifer pulled you into his room and shut the door behind you, "You'll find it's warmer in here, darling. Come sit with me."

It was much warmer in his room...

Plus, drunk Lucifer seemed much more cuddly than the usual 'metal rod up my ass so far I can taste it' Lucifer and you knew this wasn't a reoccurring opportunity.

You weren't exactly in the mood for alcohol, so when Lucifer offered you a glass, you shook your head and to your surprise, he shrugged and tossed it back effortlessly and joined you on the bed; pulling your form up close to his chest, arms crossed over your stomach, and pressing light kisses to your exposed ears and neck.

You whimpered softly, nervousness mounting as his hands began to wander your body. You loved Lucifer, honestly! But... having never been intimate with someone and on top of that, the demon you wouldn't mind losing your v-card to being in his intoxicated state...

Nervous couldn't begin to describe your feelings at the moment.

Hands, calloused from writing and work, gently caressed your sides until they became more adventurous; reaching up to touch your soft breasts and you panicked.

Sitting up quickly, you pushed his hands off and pulled your knees to your chest.

"Something wrong, darling? I apologize if I crossed any boundaries... I'll admit I've had a few too many glasses of demonus this evening. Excuse my forwardness."

"O-Oh... No, it's okay Luci... I-I just got a little nervous because I... um... I've never done anything like this before and I don't want to disappoint you." You nursed at your bottom lip uncomfortably, veering around the dreaded statement as though it were deer in headlights.

A beat.

"Meaning...? I'm afraid you've lost me, dear MC." He sat up as well, eyeing you as gently as possible.

He's gonna make me say it, isn't he? He really did have too much demonus... ugh. You thought, taking a mental deep breath.

"I'm... I'm a virgin."

Lucifer blinked in surprise, "You kiss so well... I never would've guessed. That's not a problem, however, MC. I'm honored. We can wait for as long as you need."

You couldn't help but crack a blushy smile and throw yourself into his arms for a hug, knocking the dark-haired demon back into the pillows; his own arms trapping you firmly against his broad chest while your giggles spilled into the air.

"I'm afraid you're just so lovely, it's difficult to keep my hands off, much less my eyes," He murmurs, "It's especially difficult with so much demonus. You'll forgive me, won't you, love?"

"You don't need to apologize Luci, but you do need to fix my refrigerator of a bedroom before tomorrow night, okay?"

"Why ever would I do that when you could just sleep here with me?"

--

Diavolo

After sharing a lovely evening at Ristorante Six with the Demon Lord himself, the two of you had opted to walk home instead of getting a ride from Barbatos, as the nighttime air was so refreshing and anything was better when you were arm-in-muscular arm with such a demon as Diavolo.

Unfortunately, you were still a few minutes away from the castle when out of nowhere, a storm settled right over your area and started dumping sheets of water onto the city streets with only a crash of thunder and a terrifyingly large bolt of lightning to serenade its arrival.

Diavolo immediately wrapped you in his jacket and took you up into a bridal carry before taking off towards his home.

He'd be damned if he allowed you to catch a cold on one of the nights you got to spend together.

The pair of you made it home soaking wet and giggling, the water running off your clothes soiling the freshly cleaned carpet in the main hall and causing the butler to sigh softly before wordlessly setting off to find some towels.

You gave the butler a sincerely apologetic look before Diavolo thanked him for the towels, wrapped a few around you and then himself, before scooping you up and carrying you to his room.

Diavolo was still laughing as he placed you on an armchair as though you were made of china before going to his closet to find some fresh clothes.

You used tissues to wipe away any remnants of makeup that lingered after the sky-given shower on the run home before undoing the elaborate hairstyle Asmodeus had done and stripping down to your underwear.

You sat on the chair again to wait for Diavolo's return from his massive closet and opted to watch the storm from his windows, snuggling in one of the massive towels that still smelled of the Demon Prince's musk.

"Silk or some of the finest cotton in the devildom, MC?" Diavolo called from the depths of his closet.

"You don't want just me in a towel?" You joked.

Diavolo poked his crimson crowned head back into the bedroom, "Oh believe me I'd love that but Barbatos would find it rather inappropriate... I'm feeling like cotton this evening, more breathable and less stiff, wouldn't you say, my dove?"

You nod and Diavolo smiles, noting your precious sleepy features.

When he exited the closet, you were surprised to he was shirtless with mauve cotton pajama pants.

Surprised, but not at all disappointed.

Your eyes twinkled as you took in his breathtaking physique as he made his way over to you. He gently pulled the towel down so he could pull the collar over your head and push your hands through the armholes.

He picked you up again and brought you to the four-poster bed, where he set you on the comfortable mattress before rolling in next to you and pulling you close to him.

"You looked absolutely divine tonight." He murmured, stroking your hair, "It's such a treat to get to spend time with you, you know? I wish I'd made you live with me when you first arrived here. Those brothers get to spend every day with you... how lucky."

You pressed your forehead against his own knowingly.

"That's why I cherish all of our moments together Dia. I've never been happier than when I'm with you."

You buried your face in his chest and gave a satisfied sigh when you felt his lips connect with the crown of your head.

The following silence was so addictingly warm and mellow, you hardly noticed the fact that the prince was leisurely sucking hickeys into your neck until one fang scraped the skin a bit harshly and you gave a startled whine.

You knew where this was going and you would be lying if you didn't admit you were a little more than terrified.

Diavolo was a big man...

He stopped his ministrations to see what the problem was, afraid he'd overstepped boundaries. You just... your skin just smelled so nice... he couldn't resist.

"Forgive me, dove. Did I hurt you?" He asked, concern lacing his tone.

"N-No, you just surprised me is all." You shook your head, but Diavolo wasn't satisfied.

You were tense.

Afraid.

"MC, are you scared of me?"

"What? No! Diavolo, I-I... I'm not afraid of you I just saw where this was going and I got nervous cuz... well..." You looked away, a blush forming on your features before you muttered, "I'm a virgin."

"MC..."

"I-I hope that's not a problem... I just get a bit nervous with this stuff, I d-don't know where to begin and of course, it would be horrible if I disappointed you-"

Diavolo silenced your ramble with a kiss, wrapping you in a firm embrace before pulling away.

"Oh my sweet dove, that's not a problem at all. If anything, I'm honored." He brushed a few strands of hair from your crimson face before kissing you, again and again, hoping to comfort you and stop that trembling lip before it gave way to tears.

"I promise dove, this doesn't change anything. It only makes you more of my precious, fragile dove and that's not a problem at all."

Diavolo rubbed your back and gave you one last squeeze before climbing over top of you and caging you against the bed.

"Shall we change it now or later?"

"My lord, I brought some tea to prevent either of you from catching a-"

Diavolo scrambled off of you, the look of a child caught in the act of mischief on his face.

"...cold. My lord, is this a bad time?"

"N-No, not at all Barbatos. I... think some tea is just what we need."

--

in conclusion, I want one

MASTERLIST

[blondiebarnes]

in the middle

summary: steve and bucky just got home from a tough mission, and you’re determined to make them feel good.

pairing: steve rogers x bucky barnes x reader

warnings: smut! threesome, male & female receiving oral, established relationship, cumplay, basically just porn

word count: 6.5k

For the most part, you’ve gotten used to being by yourself when Steve and Bucky are on missions.

You don’t like it - not in the slightest - it goes without saying that you’d love nothing more than to go on missions with them when they’re called in the dead of night but it hardly, if ever, works out that way. They’re nearly always sent together (Fury says they balance each other out, and you’re not exactly sure you know why or how but you’ve learned to accept whatever your director says at face value) and you’re generally excluded from their missions. They get too protective, can ignore the objectives of a mission when you’re in danger, and it’s a sweet sentiment but you know it’s an issue, even if you appreciate it.

And you are used to it. Really, you are. It’s been a year of having them called off in the middle of the night, leaving you sleeping in bed with a lingering kiss to your forehead as you dip out the door - occasionally they’ll wake you up (usually Bucky, because he tends to be a bit more sentimental, though he’d never dare to admit it) and give you a proper kiss, but for the most part you simply wake up in a too-large bed that’s void of the two super soldiers sandwiching you between their warm bodies, and it never fails to feel any more jarring.

That’s what happened Friday. You simply woke up on a day like any other and they were gone, leaving nothing but ruffled covers and a small sticky note pressed to your cell phone in Steve’s scribbled handwriting, telling you that it shouldn’t last more than the weekend and we love you so much and a small smiley face that looks to be more of Bucky’s doing, but you can’t be sure.

It had been a long weekend.

Movies and books and making dinner, and work had been so slow recently with no new missions on the come-up that you need to be called away on, so you’ve been primarily holed up in your apartment watching the time tick by and waiting for your boys to come home. You’d even called Nick at one point, in your boredom, to inquire about how their mission was going, and he told you (paraphrased, of course) that they were doing just fuckin’ great and should be home by Monday, and Monday couldn’t have fucking come any slower.

You’ve been lying awake for nearly three hours since you settled into bed on Sunday night, covers pulled tight against your chin to protect yourself from the January cold that nips at your skin, even after you’ve set the thermostat to 71 degrees. Steve likes it cold - Bucky warm - you laugh at the irony of it, much to the latter’s chagrin - and you prefer it being right in the middle.

The TV plays on mute a rerun of some old movie you’ve never heard of, black and white film running rickety slow and glitching, though you’ve long since given up paying attention to it. You’d been on Pinterest for an hour before getting bored and plugging your phone in on your nightstand, and you’d begun flipping through one of Steve’s favorite books he loves to read to you sometimes, and now - you simply gaze at the ceiling in your boredom, fingers interlocked on top of your stomach, boredom settling in every crevice of your body.

You’re not sure what, exactly, you’re waiting awake for. Not even sure if you’re waiting or simply unable to sleep - it feels like a 50/50 situation, at least at the moment - but there’s still something inherently wrong with sleeping in bed without your boys. Curling into Bucky’s chest while Steve is pressed to his back, the latter’s hand wrapped around to rest on your lip while a metal hand slides up your shirt, cupping your breast just to hear the way you squeal at the chill - or, alternatively, sandwiching yourself between them as Steve practically throws his mass on top of you and Bucky squishes your face into his hard back.

Empty. You feel empty, in more ways than one, and that’s what’s keeping you awake, you decide after a long fifteen minutes of contemplating on it. Your boys complete you. It’s not right without them -

Just as the thought crosses your mind, you hear the front door knob jiggling from across the apartment, and you jerk upright as though someone had doused you with freezing cold water (not that it would be much of an adjustment from the temperature your apartment feels, but the implication still stands.)

If you were smarter - or perhaps less groggy - maybe you’d dig through your nightstand for the gun you keep in case of any intruders, buried beneath notebooks and stray pieces of paper decorated with small smudged sketches that Steve puts on any smooth surface he can find. It’s loaded and ready to go - all you’d need to do is dig through and grab it, creep outside the bedroom door and take down whomever may be invading your home -

Just as you roll onto your side to dig through your drawer and find the weapon, the front door fully opens with a jingle of keys and the scuffling sounds of footsteps, and you pause, listening to the voices that roll through the apartment, hushed and breathy.

“Fuckin’ - tripped over my foot,” comes a familiar voice, louder than the one who follows right after him, murmuring for him to shut the hell up - are you trying to wake up the entire city? -

You’re out of bed faster than you can even process, covers mercilessly kicked to the very bottom of the bed in your haste. The hardwood is cold against your bare feet and the air bites at your skin, wearing nothing but one of Steve’s old t-shirts that falls to your mid thighs and a pair of lace panties that peeks out of the shirt when you bend over or reach up or do anything, really - it’s a bit of a scandalous look - but you pay no mind to it, opening the door and tearing down the hallway into the foyer.

You’ve smacked into a hard, thick body before you could stop yourself, arms thrown around Steve’s torso as you bury your face into his chest, and you can practically feel his deep laugh before you hear it but you do hear it, clear as day, and it brings a grin to your face that’s only deepened when Bucky tugs at your waist, pulling you into his back, arms wrapped around your stomach as he buries his face in your shoulder.

“Fury said you guys wouldn’t be home until tomorrow,” you tell them, letting your body relax into Bucky’s embrace as Steve traces his fingers across your jawline, tilting your head up so he can press one light kiss to your puckered lips. His arms snake around your waist, sandwiched between your back and Bucky’s chest, fingertips clutching tight onto the loose fabric of the shirt you’re donning and he uses it as leverage to hold you closer to him.

“It was an easy one,” Steve replies, leaning forward just a bit until you’re fully pressed between the two soldiers, your head squished into his chest as he inhales the scent of your shampoo, nose buried into the top of your head. “Can’t believe you called Fury about it - missed us that much, hmm?”

A dry chuckle jostles the body behind you, feeling Bucky’s warm laughter against your neck, and you bite on your bottom lip as you nod. “‘Course I missed you - don’t get cocky -” for you’d just caught sight of Steve’s smug grin, toying his lips upward, and you use the top of your head to push him away from you in mock disgust, leaning further into Bucky’s grasp. He hums softly, breath ruffling your hair, messy from your failed attempts to sleep. “S’so lonely here.”

“Aww,” murmurs Bucky, lips pressing warm kisses into the exposed expanse of your neck, and you tilt your head to the side to give him easier access as Steve crosses his arms over his chest, watching the pair of you at work. “Poor baby.”

“Hey -” you reach behind you, running your hands through long, brunette locks just to feel the way Bucky smiles against your skin. “At least you two have each other on missions, getting each other off - I’m here all by myself. Nothin’ but the fingers.” “There’s a lot less time to get your rocks off in the middle of a mission than you’d think.”

“Is there?” you inquire playfully as Bucky’s lips trail further up your neck, landing on a spot just beneath your jawline and suckling the soft skin - the teasing lilt in your voice that you’d intended to sound confident and self-assured gets breathier and just a tad more pathetic as you continue, “Sam and I always seem to have enough time -”

Bucky grunts against your cheek, murmuring something you can’t quite make out about how he hates that fuckin’ bird boy, and a grin spreads across your face that mirrors Steve’s as he watches you. Bucky tilts your head to the side with two fingers pressed to your chin so he can ghost his lips over yours but you deepen it, pushing your face further into his as you wrap one of your arms around his neck, tugging at his hair to hear him groan into your mouth and you swallow the noise. You can practically sense Steve rolling his eyes both at your teasing and the way Bucky’s absolutely devouring you, the metal hand around your waist trailing up your torso and leaving goosebumps in its wake until he reaches your chest, cold fingers plucking at your nipple, and your chest arches into his hand with a broken gasp into his mouth.

“Better tell Sam not to touch what isn’t his,” Steve tells you, and you nod, watching the blonde take a few steps forward and for a moment you wonder if he’ll lean down, take your lips from Bucky’s and kiss you until you’re practically putty in his hands but instead he pushes past the both of you, disappearing down the hallway behind you, and you crane your neck backwards to watch his back as he vanishes around a corner.

For a moment you wonder if Bucky hadn’t seen him leave, continuing his ministrations on your nipples as his teeth bite at your bottom lip as though there’d been no interruption, his mouth turning up into a smug smirk at the way you whimper into his mouth. God, you’ve missed his touch, clever hands knowing exactly how to make you fall apart for him even without slipping into the lace of your panties, and your mouth opens in a silent gasp as his flesh palm presses to the skin of your stomach.

“Wanna go see Stevie?” the soldier questions into your mouth, voice low and sultry smooth, and you jerk your head up and down once. “Tough mission for him.”

You frown at that as Bucky pulls away from you, leaving one lingering kiss to the side of your throat as he pulls your shirt down over your lower half. “Thought he said it was easy.”

“It was,” and that makes your brows furrow as his metal hand wraps around your wrist, beginning to pull you down the hallway where your bedroom door is swung wide open. “But Fury ripped him a new one, ‘cause he disobeyed his orders - got the mission done fine - but you know how Stevie hates having his authority questioned.”

Your lips part in a silent o, and Bucky smirks ever so slightly before leading you into the bedroom where Steve sits at the edge of the bed, peeling off his suit and kicking it off of his ankles. Bucky shuts the door behind you, immediately working at tugging his vest over his head and you leave him to it, bare feet padding on the hardwood floor until you reach Steve, and you merely stand before him until he’s finished taking his clothes off, leaving him clad in only a pair of boxers.

“Do you need something?” Steve questions, glancing up at you with an amused glint in his eyes and you groan, lifting your leg up to straddle his lap, calves on either side of his, and his hands go to rest on the underside of your thigh like an instinct. For a moment you don’t say anything, grinding your hips down into his until his hands slide up your back, tugging your shirt up over your torso so he can press his cold palms to the globes of your ass, halting you in place. “Words, baby.”

“Want you to boss me around,” you tell him, dropping your lips to the side of his throat, and his dry exhale of a laugh blows at your hair as his fingers slip beneath the scrap of lace between your ass, fully digging into the plump skin, and you smile against his neck. “Missed you bein’ bossy.”

“Really?” You nod, feeling the bed dip beside you until there’s another set of hands on your body, tugging the hem of your shirt up until you’re forced to remove your lips from Steve’s neck so Bucky can pull your shirt off, littering it onto the ground beside you. Steve leans his head back as both you and Bucky lean forward, your lips to his throat and the other soldier taking his lips so that the next words he speaks are muffled into the kiss, “Sure Bucky didn’t put you up to this, baby?”

“Who’s Bucky?” 

That makes both of them laugh into each other and you smile, leaning back in his lap as you take in the sight of them - lips crashed together, metal hand burying itself in blonde locks that he hasn’t cut in a while, hair brushing the tips of his ears, and Steve’s hand that had been on your ass drops, seemingly forgotten about his job - you huff, wrap your hand around his wrist, and lift his palm up to rest against your left breast.

Instinctively he squeezes, and the two men pull apart from each other as Bucky leans forward to kiss the top of your head, flesh hand sliding down your stomach until he can push into the damp lace fabric of your panties, and you jolt against his hand as he brushes your clit. “Can’t possibly think we forgot about you,” he tells you, and you shrug, watching the way he smiles. “Come on, Stevie, you heard her - wants you to boss her around.”

And Steve is surely still doubtful of your intentions - it isn’t as though you’ve ever asked him to boss you around before - it typically just happens when he’s pissed or upset or happy -

It happens a lot. He’s a bossy guy, both in the field and out of it, and he’s more than happy to give demands and orders and he loves to see you follow them.

Bucky is - usually along for the ride. He’s the calming voice in your ear when Steve is edging you until you’re screaming, the gentle touch when you’ve been overstimulated for an hour, the smooth, sultry kiss when you’re being filled so deep from both ends you feel entirely numb - and he can be mean, too, metal hand tightening around your throat and smirking at the way you sob -

Well, it depends.

“Get on the bed,” Steve tells you, and regardless of whether he’s suspicious of you and Bucky his voice is already hardening and if the words weren’t implicitly sexual, perhaps you could fool yourself into thinking you’re on the field - you listen, though. You always do - swing your legs off of his lap and land on your back on the bed, watching as Steve stands and Bucky merely turns around, leaning back on his arms as he watches you, your leg hiked up to give a limited, tantalizing view to the lace covered pex of your thighs.

“Buck - wanna get behind our girl?”

The phrase our girl never fails to make your stomach flutter, and the feeling only intensifies as Bucky grunts in affirmation, crawling towards you, and with hands hooked under your armpits he lifts you to sit, your back pressed to his chest. Hands reach up to your chest, cupping your tits in flesh and metal palms that have a chill rolling through your spine, hips grinding back against the erection you can feel pressed into your back.

“Spread your legs,” Steve tells you, and you oblige, feet sliding across the bed to spread yourself as wide open as you can, and Bucky’s metal hand leaves your chest to grab onto one of your thighs, forcing it open wide enough that a burn spreads through your muscle. “Yeah - don’t fuckin’ move, baby - hold her down, Buck.”

Bucky doesn’t need to be told twice, moving his other hand so he’s holding both of your thighs, and you can feel wetness dripping down your cunt onto the sheets as Steve stands still, for a moment, just watching the pair of you - your chest heaves and you can feel Bucky’s fingers twitch against your thighs, surely desperate to caress your tits just the way he always likes to, but he wouldn’t dare disobey Steve when he’s like this. You know it, and he knows it, and you’re sure Steve knows it too - he looks so smug, even as he climbs onto the bed, resting on his stomach as he presses his cheek into your thigh, warm breath fanning over your cunt. His fingers hook into the soaked material of your panties, feeling the stickiness that coats your folds and the undergarment, and with not a second of hesitation he rips them in half, tugging them off your leg and tossing the ruined scrap of lace onto the ground.

Your instinct is to reach down and run your fingers through his hair as he lowers his mouth to your pussy, tongue flicking once over your clit, but the second your hands jerk in their spot resting overtop of Bucky’s, Steve is reaching up - one hand manages to wrap around both of your wrists, holding your hands in place on top of your stomach with a grip so tight it’ll surely leave bruises that will darken in the morning.

You groan softly as Steve lifts his head, gaze hard and unforgiving as he stares at you, and then his gaze moves behind you where you know he must be having some sort of silent conversation with Bucky - they’re so good at that - before he’s leaning back down, teeth gnashing at your clit with enough force to make you jolt.

“Think Stevie said not to fuckin’ move, sweetie,” Bucky murmurs, lips sucking a dark hickey just beneath your ear, and a low whine escapes your throat as Steve’s tongue laps up your sticky folds before centering on your clit. “Didn’t you, honey?” And Steve hums in affirmation, pulling back to spit harshly at your clit, and you exhale skaily as you feel the glob of coldness trickle down your folds. “Move again, and I’ll punish you,” he tells you, which is more generous than he typically is when he’s in this state but you suppose the excitement of arriving home after a shitty, weekend mission must not have worn out yet. “Be a good girl for us, baby.”

You nod furiously, Bucky’s forearms hooking beneath your knees until the ache in your thighs nearly tips the balance of pain and pleasure but it’s still leaning towards the latter - more so as Steve dips his head back down, lips wrapping around the sensitive nub at your core that tears a moan from your throat, and you bite at your lips to try and silence the noises.

“Never told you to be quiet,” Steve mumbles against your cunt, vibrations from his voice sending a shiver up your spine, and Bucky smiles against one of the many hickies he’s leaving on your neck - you’re sure you’ll look a damn sight tomorrow, made of practically entirely concealer to hide the marks he’s obsessed with, but you don’t have it in you to stop. “Let us hear your noises - how good we’re making you feel.”

You drop your head back into Bucky’s shoulder with a desperate cry as Steve’s flexed tongue circles your clit before running back down your slit, parting your folds until he can slip his tongue inside of your hole, thrusting it in and out a few times, lips turning upwards at your resulting whine. Bucky’s nails leave deep, crescent-shaped indentations in the smooth skin of your inner thigh, and you can feel his erection pressed thick and swollen against your back. Surely he’s just as wound up as you are - and as much as Steve is, his hips rutting against the edge of the bed as though of their own accord - but he doesn’t do much of anything at all to alleviate the pressure, breathy exhales in your ear as your hips rub against his bulge.

“Wanna hold her open for me, Buck?” Steve questions, pulling back just a mere inch from your swollen clit before dipping his head back down, tongue licking a fat stripe through your folds before lust-blown blue orbs lift up to meet the ones behind you - you can feel Bucky’s hair, brushing against your cheek as he nods once, and your brows furrow in confusion. Surely he’s already holding you open, hands forcing your thighs so far apart that you can feel the burn in every inch of your body - and then he drops one of your thighs against the bed, metal hand trailing down to your cunt, and his fingers dip through your folds, spreading them apart and exposing your swollen clit further to the blonde between your legs. Steve adjusts himself, moving towards the side so he can press his face into your pussy without hitting Bucky’s fingers, and his tongue circles your clit once more.

You moan at the sight, nearly going cross eyed as you stare down at Steve. It’s so erotic, watching everything in your most sacred of areas, Bucky’s fingers and Steve’s face buried so intensely into your cunt you’re sure he can’t possibly breathe - he moans against your folds every so often, as though the act of giving you pleasure makes him feel just as good, and you don’t doubt it for a moment.

“Steve -” you gasp, back arching up, and Steve uses his hand around your wrist to force you back down onto the bed wordlessly - you drop pathetically back onto the duvet, a tear sliding down your cheek, and you can hear Bucky tut behind you, cold fingers slipping on the moisture coating your folds. “Steve - fuck -”

“Gonna cum, baby?” “Yes,” you breathe, hips bucking backwards into Bucky’s erection and he lets out a choked gasp into your ear, head falling back against the headboard with a loud thud that rings through the room. “Yes, need to - please -”

Steve pulls away, then - you cry out at the loss of warmth between your legs - and his nose nudges Bucky’s fingers, prompting the soldier behind you to take the cue to dip his metal digits into your cunt, the cold thickness stretching you out until you’re preening at the sensation. “Think she’s been a good girl? Think she should cum, Buck?”

You want to scream at the pause between the question and Bucky’s answer - he hums for a moment, as though in deep thought, fingers buried down to the knuckle inside of you and body practically leaning over yours so his metal arm can reach, brushing the sweet spot inside of you that makes your vision go fuzzy. He takes too fucking long, Steve’s grasp on your wrist pressed to your tummy the only thing keeping your hips from bucking up to force pressure into your cunt, before he finally says, “You’ve been good for us, haven’t you?”

“Yes!” you practically squeal as his fingers pull out hardly an inch before pumping back in, curling upwards again to hit your G-spot. “Yes, please, been so good, Bucky -”

“Cum for us, sweetie -”

You hardly wait for him to finish his sentence when Steve lowers his lips to your clit, wrapping around the bud and sucking until his cheeks hollow out, and your hips jerk desperately into his face as the waves of euphoria rack through your body, tearing a desperate sob from your throat as Bucky thrusts his fingers in and out of you, nearly hitting the side of Steve’s face in his haste to get you off, and he’s doing a damn good job at it - your hips jut into his back as you cum into their mouth and fingers, stuttering groans leaving your mouth one after another.

Steve’s mouth never leaves your clit - not even when your hips thrash against his mouth and you tear your hands free of his grasp to dig into his hair, attempting to stop his ministrations on your clit but he refuses - your folds drip wetness into his waiting mouth and he laps it up like a man dying of thirst, Bucky’s fingers lazily thrusting in and out of you as his chest rises and falls against your back, dropping your other thigh to hook an arm around your torso and hold you close to him.

Hold her down, Steve had told him, and he seems more than content to oblige with the order, whispering loving nothings in your ear that you can’t bring yourself to understand, words coming through as nothing more than incoherent babble to your brain muddled with the pressure to cum already building in your core again -

“Oh,” you whimper, heels digging into the mattress as Steve’s tongue laps over your folds and Bucky’s finger before settling on your clit again, flicking the nub over and over until you feel yourself fucking burst - “oh, fuck!”

It’s entirely more intense than the first one, Steve’s teeth nibbling at your clit as you topple over the edge like a row of dominoes - fire shoots through every limb, every crevice of your body until you’re shaking, tears streaming out of the corners of your eyes and trickling down to your jawline. Your thighs tense, a high pitched cry piercing the air of the room as the aftershocks overtake your body, leaving you trembling into Bucky’s grasp as Steve pulls off your clit with a pop.

“That’s good,” Bucky whispers into your ear, pulling his metal fingers out of you once the shaking rolling through your body has come to a relative halt - through your blurred vision you can see Steve take the digits in his mouth, licking them clean eyes rolling up to meet Bucky’s, and he groans softly. “Good girl.”

Steve leaves one last kiss to your swollen clit before moving up your body, and you’re quick to lean forward, wrapping a quivering arm around his neck and pulling him down for a kiss - it’s rough and biting, teeth clashing together and his tongue swiping into your mouth without a moment for you to catch your breath, and when he pulls away his breathing is noticeably heavier than before. 

“Yeah, you’re good for us,” he tells you, bringing a hand up to stroke at the soft skin of your cheek before pulling it back and smacking it back down - it’s not hard, not by a long shot, but it’s enough to draw another whimper from your throat at the soft sting. “On your knees.”

Your legs feel shaky but you manage to push yourself to your knees, resting your arms around Steve’s shoulders to hold yourself up as Bucky shuffles behind you, slotting his hips against your ass so you can feel his bulge through his boxers - he grinds himself into your ass, sliding his arms around your waist just as Steve tugs his own boxers down, fist lazily pumping his cock as you watch him.

“You know what?” the blonde murmurs after a moment of you watching him, your cunt throbbing in need. “Think I’m gonna take your throat.”

You whine at that as Steve pulls away abruptly, leaving you nearly collapse onto your stomach but Bucky’s arm around your stomach mercifully holds you up, practically manhandling you as he turns you around, shoving you onto your back with your head nearly dangling off the bed as he crawls up your body, leaving lingering kisses on the smooth expanses of skin exposed to him. Large hands force your thighs open, pushing his hips in between your legs, and you whimper as his cock rubs against your overstimulated clit, even through the fabric of his boxers -

Steve stands beside the bed, smoothing his fingers through your matted hair as you come face to face with his cock, throbbing red and leaking precum down the sides, and your mouth practically waters at the sight - then Bucky’s pulling his own boxers down, swollen tip of his dick sliding through your sodden folds wettened from the aftermath of two orgasms. You push your thighs farther apart, opening your mouth wide and sticking your tongue out for Steve and he grins down at you, the expression looking less joyful and more downright smug and don’t you love seeing him like this? All dominant and intense, like he could control you if he pleased, and he does please -

His cock shoves forward into your throat at the same moment Bucky sheathes himself inside of your cunt fully, and a choked cry forces its way out of your mouth, reverberating through Steve’s body until he lets out a strangled grunt. Your nose brushes against the trimmed hair at his pelvis, hollowing your throat to take him in the best you can, and his grip on your hair tightens as leverage to hold you onto him.

“Oh - oh, shit,” Bucky gasps, the noise stuttered and breathy, and the hands on your thigh move up to squeeze your waist, grasp tough and bruising against your skin. “Fuck, fuck -”

You gag around Steve as he finally pulls out of your mouth, leaving just the tip on your tongue, and you swirl it around him - he drops his head back with a groan and when he speaks, his words are shallow, controlled - “Feels good, Buck?”

“So good, Stevie -” Bucky thrusts himself out of you before pushing back in, cunt stretching around his girth and your eyes roll back at the coil of pleasure already building in your lower stomach as his pace picks up, hips working faster and faster until the sound of skin slapping skin nearly overpowers your desperate mixture of moans and cries -

Nearly. Not completely.

Steve tugs at your hair and you remember your job to suck him off and you let him push your head forward, lips wrapping around his girth and tongue flattening to lap at the thick vein on the underside - his resulting groan is immediate, is desperate, and your urge to smile is only thwarted by Bucky’s metal hand pressing to your clit as his hips slam against yours.

Your hips jerk against his, pressure on the most sensitive point of your body making your eyes roll back once more as Steve’s cock slides in and out of your throat, both hands buried tight in your hair until there’s nothing else you can do than just take both of them - you bring your hands from their spot clutching the duvet to your tits, shaking fingertips kneading at your peaked nipples, and you’re not sure if the needy whine that emits from Bucky’s throat is due to his cock slamming into your pussy or from the sight of you toying with your boobs, but either one is reasonable, you decide.

It takes hardly a moment to work the three of you into a rhythm, but when you get it, it’s perfect - Bucky thrusts into you, filling you up so deep you swear you can feel him in every crevice of your body, and once he pulls out Steve pushes himself into your mouth, tip of his dick hitting the back of your throat just to hear you gag around him. Every once in a while, though, there’s a stutter in the pattern, and both men pull out to ram into your cunt and mouth at the same time, and the three of you cry out in unison.

Bucky’s flesh hand moves to your thigh, pushing it up so far that your knee nearly touches your chest and the burn only heightens the pleasure he’s giving you as he hits the sweet spot buried deep in your cunt over and over like he’s memorized exactly where it is - and surely he has - they know your body better than you do, sometimes - know just how to make you scream. Metal fingers tweak at your clit and your hips grind up into his, pushing him deeper and deeper into you, and you moan around Steve’s dick.

“I’m gonna cum,” Bucky groans, hips slowing deliberately in pace but it’s still fast enough to make your head spin - Steve moves one hand to your face, grabbing your chin and holding you in place with his cock still halfway down your throat. “Fuck - want me to fill you up, sweetie?”

You nod.

“Tell me,” he insists, and your eyes squeeze shut as you exhale through your nose. “Want me to fill you up?”

Steve pulls out until only the tip of his length rests in your mouth, and you swallow thickly before saying, words a desperate sob, “Please - please cum in me, Bucky, baby, please - fill me up -”

“Good girl,” the brunette between your thigh grunts, squeezing your clit harshly and your back arches, Steve slipping his cock all the way back in your mouth, hitting the back of your throat and you gag around him as he moans. “Good - fuckin’ - girl -”

With a few more harsh thrusts into your pussy Bucky’s hips halt, pressed taut to yours, filling you to the brim, and his head drops backwards, lips parting with a drawn out, silent scream before he fully cries out, and you feel his ribbons of cum in your cunt - the warmth filling you up is enough to snap the coil building in your abdomen and you sob around Steve as you cum onto Bucky, core clenching around him like a vise as he holds you to him. 

“Yes, yes -” Bucky’s voice sounds far away as your muscles go lax, collapsing like putty onto the bed with the grasps on your head and your hips the only thing grounding you to Earth - “yes, takin’ me so fuckin’ good -”

It’s then that Steve gives one last thrust, deep in your throat, and his grip on your chin forces you to look up at him, meeting his stern eyes and he’s so close you can see it reflected in his orbs - they’re dark, pupils wide, and you whimper. “Don’t swallow,” he whispers, tone sounding similar to that of a hiss, and you nod. “Don’t swallow a single drop.”

Your head bobs up and down as Steve’s hand pumps up and down the base of his cock, his cry strangled and needy when he finally releases into your mouth - he cums in spurts onto your tongue and you keep it stuck out for him, trying to resist the overwhelming desire to swallow everything he’s given you but he looks so proud of you when he’s finished and every drop still rests on your tongue and you prefer that look of admiration over the taste, really.

“Kiss her, Buck -”

And Bucky doesn’t have to be told twice, both hands moving to your neck and pulling you up so vigorously your head is spinning when he crashes his lips to yours. His tongue slips into your mouth and you part your lips for him, cum dribbling out of the sides of your mouth and he laps it up like a dying man, palms pressed to your tits. You can see the bob of his throat when he swallows everything you’ve forced into his mouth and you swallow the rest, parting your lips from him with a gasp, practically heaving for air in the bedroom that suddenly feels humid, smelling of sex and cum and desire and remarkably like your two boys themselves.

Steve collapses onto the bed first. He grabs for Bucky, tugging him into his chest and you sit on your knees for a moment, simply watching them - they fall into tandem with each other like they were made for it, and maybe they were, Steve’s face nuzzling into Bucky’s back and you’re never surprised by the sudden vulnerability of your captain immediately after sex. The first time you’d joined them you’d suspected he was embarrassed but you don’t think he is 

He’s in love.

It’s a sweet thought.

Bucky wraps his metal hand around your wrist and pulls you down to him, his chin resting on top of your head as you press your cheek to his sweaty chest, feeling his arm wrap around your back. He’s silent, using his foot to kick the comforter up from where it’s been shoved to the bottom of the bed, and when it’s far enough up Steve reaches down to pull it over the three of you, drowning you in its warmth even though you’re not feeling quite cold anymore.

“I don’t know,” you say, after a moment of silence, voice muffled against Bucky’s chest. “It feels like I’m the only one getting ganged up on, nowadays.”

They laugh at that, Bucky’s flesh palm smoothing up and down your back. “You asked for it,” Steve tells you, and you shrug.

“Still.” You move to rest your chin on Bucky’s chest, and he nearly goes cross eyed to meet your eyes as he looks down at you. “Maybe, one of these days, we could tie Stevie up. Have our way with him.”

“He’d love that,” Bucky muses, and you can practically hear Steve rolling his eyes.

“Yeah - right after a mission, when he’s all wound up -”

“Hey,” Steve warns, and you smile.

“I don’t think there are restraints strong enough for those muscles, anyway,” you murmur, and Bucky smiles, leaning down to press a kiss to the top of your head.

You fall into silence again, and after a couple of minutes you hear Steve’s soft snoring, followed by Bucky’s, until you’re the last awake between the three of you. They’re rightfully exhausted, surely getting little to no sleep over the weekend - you like hearing how peaceful they sound when they’re resting, even after fucking you so silly you were practically crying.

You smile as you bury your face into Bucky’s chest. Shit, maybe Fury was right - maybe they do balance each other out, a bit.

[warmblanketwhump]

sick day

A coughs roughly, bracing themselves against the aisle after another fit of hacking left them gasping for breath.

It hadn’t been that bad this morning. They’d woken with a scratchy throat, achy limbs, and a tickle in their nose, but nothing unmanageable. Besides – they needed the money. Badly. Living alone was expensive, but they didn’t know anyone else in the city, and they were barely keeping their head above the water as it was.

So they’d thrown on an extra sweater, ignored the chill deep within their bones, and headed out to work.

4 hours into a 12 hour shift, A would have welcomed the sweet embrace of death. Or any embrace at all - something to stop the shakes in their limbs or still the spinning world.

As if by divine intervention, a hand reaches out and gently clasps their shoulder. “Hey, are you feeling alright?”

B had never seen anyone that sick still standing. Pale. Forehead slick with sweat. Shaky hands. Wearing one too many layers in the stuffy, crowded air of the grocery store.

A had only been working at the store for a couple months. but B couldn’t recall a time when A wasn’t working, morning or night. And it showed - in the dark smudges under their eyes, and the way they leaned heavily against the boxes of spaghetti they’d been trying to stock. Another round of coughs sent them reeling, and B rushes to their side and grabs their shoulder. “Hey, are you feeling alright?” A jumps, startled at the touch, and B drops their hand instantly.

“I’m...I’ll be fine,” A rasps, wiping their nose with their sleeve. They cross their arms, trying to hide the shiver that hunches their shoulders and rattles their teeth.

“A, you look like death warmed over. At the very least, you’re going to decrease pasta sales by a factor of 10 because you coughed all over them.” B smiles ruefully, but it doesn’t reach their eyes.

A tries to laugh at the joke, but a wave of dizziness swirls their vision, and they weakly grab at the shelf. Instead, they feel another body catch them – B’s solid, warm body which gently steadies them in a sort of hug.

“Easy there,” says B as A gasps for air, clasping weakly at B’s waist as B rubbed their back. In a matter of minutes, A is whisked back to their boss, and after a tense conversation in hushed whispers (of which A hears nothing) they’re out on the snowy streets, in B’s warm car, headed home. “There’s no way you’re working today, bud”, B says, slowly navigating the route to A’s apartment as A protests that they’re fine, to tell their boss they’ll come back to finish their shift after a quick nap.

As they help A navigate the creaking stairs of their cold, damp apartment building, B’s heart twists - no wonder A’s so sick if they’ve been living in a place like this in a winter this harsh.

They enter A’s dark, freezing apartment, and B gently deposits them on the threadbare couch and drapes a nearby blanket around their shoulders.

“Thank you...you didn’t have to bring me–” Another round of coughs cuts A’s rasping voice short, and they tug the blanket tighter around themselves and shiver helplessly. 

B frowns and gently feels A’s forehead (burning up) and slips their hand down to A’s neck to check their lymph nodes (definitely swollen). A draft from the window sets A’s teeth chattering, and B scans the sparsely furnished apartment, searching for another blanket. Eventually, they settle for shedding their own jacket and wrapping that around A, too.

“A, it’s freezing in here. Where’s your thermostat?”

“Won’t matter - it doesn’t work most days.” They cough again, longer this time. B rushes to A’s side, placing a hesitant hand between their shoulder blades and rubbing slow, deliberate circles until A finally catches their breath. A leans back and closes their eyes, breathing heavily, a single tear tracking down their cheek. B can tell that they’re exhausted, and their heart cracks at A’s huddled form.

B chews their lip, worried. The last thing they want to do is insult A, but staying alone in this awful apartment will only make them sicker. Their mind pops to their own warm, cozy apartment, their fully stocked medicine cabinet - and to the extra room, recently vacated by their roommate who had just taken a new job in another city.

You haven’t even known them that long, warns the rational side of their brain. Why should you worry yourself over them?

But even though B doesn’t know A well, they like them - the two of them made a good team, and although A was quiet, they had a fun sense of humor and seemed to genuinely care for those around them, always helping where they could, always quick with a compliment, a kind word, or a smile for someone else. 

And B knew how terrible it was to be sick alone. Two springs ago, they’d caught a bad cold - and nothing could truly capture the miserable feeling of dragging yourself out of bed, feverish, half alive, desperately hoping that someone would stop by and check in on you. Finally, B takes a deep breath.

Just ask. If they say no, you leave. That’s it.

“Say, um...look. I don’t want to be - you know, creepy or anything,” B stutters as A turns to meet their eyes. “It’s just...well, my shift is basically over by now, and I was just going to go home after this anyways, and I know your heating’s out so if you wanted to come hang out where it’s warmer until it’s fixed or something, you can. And I’ve got medicine and stuff at my place too, and my roommate just moved out so it’s just me and it wouldn’t be any trouble. If you want.” B let it all out in a single breath, hoping that they hadn’t sounded as awkward as they felt.

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

A’s eyes well up with tears, and they inhale a shaky breath that has nothing to do with their coughing fits. They had no reason to expect such kindness from someone who barely knew them, what they’d been through, how hard they’d been fighting, how long they’d been alone without anyone who cared.

They knew what B was really asking. B knew damn well that A’s heating wasn’t coming back on any time soon. They knew B likely suspected that A had spent the last few winter nights shivering themselves to sleep, and that this embarrassing, freezing apartment was all they could afford on their own, even after all those extra shifts.

And yet B still gave them the dignity of asking.

If you want. And they did.

“I’d like that.” A says quietly, voice rough from coughing.

B smiles, relief evident in their eyes. “Good. Let’s get you ready, then.”

10 minutes later, they head back down the stairs, B holding them steady and gently rubbing A’s arms to get some warmth into their still-feverish body. And despite feeling absolutely drained, A smiles. Maybe things would be okay after all.

[buckyownsmylife]

Fly Away - Loki Lauffeyson angst

The one where he comes back to find he left you with a reminder of your relationship he never planned

A/N: requested a while ago ✌ It’s finally here 👍 Don’t read the warnings if you don’t want to be spoiled 👀

Word count: 1.4k

Warnings: pregnancy, references to Loki in prison, angst with a happy ending

Y/N’s P.O.V.

When I walked inside my house, the first thing I noticed was that it felt colder than usual. Even colder than the world outside, and that was weird. I almost didn’t want to take off my coat. “Gemma?” I called out for the old lady who’d been responsible for my son ever since I had to start working again. “Did you forget to turn on the thermostat?”

Even as I asked, I knew that wasn’t it. Something deep inside of me knew what was going on. A part of me that called out to him like some old, instinctive feeling from those books we read about as children.

I used to think it was a sign we were meant to be. Now I just think it’s my lot in life.

But the calling was there, it was undeniable. That was why when I opened the door to Gael’s room, I didn’t scream when I found him with our son on his lap. “What the hell are you doing here?” I hated myself for how overwhelmed I was. It was clear in my voice and his raised eyebrows showed that he’d noticed it.

He had always noticed every little thing about me.

Kissing the forehead of the sleeping infant, he slowly and carefully untangled himself from his tiny but heavy limbs before climbing out of the bed and coming to stand before me.

“I expected a warmer welcome, my love.” My love. It’d been so long since I’d heard those words and they still elicited the same powerful reaction, the same unbearable need for the man in front of me.

I couldn’t afford to need anyone right now. I’d been on my own for a long time, without him - without anyone. I knew it was just some remaining feeling that was still hidden inside my body, calling out to him. I needed to shut it down, and quickly.

“Why did you think you deserved a warmer welcome?” I scoffed, crossing my arms in front of my body so as to reduce the desperate desire to reach out and touch him, verify that he was really there. Every cell of my body buzzed, like they’d been dormant ever since he left and suddenly the sight of him there made me energized. I hated it.

I hated that he still had such a strong, powerful effect on me, three years later. I hated that my heart and my body still longed for him, still wanted to feel his touch on me.

“Let’s move this discussion to the living room,” was Loki’s response, throwing a glance to the little boy sleeping peacefully in the small crib. “It took quite a while to get him to sleep, wouldn’t want to wake him up.”

The sight of him taking my child’s needs into consideration was too much. It was all too much. This is what I’d expected of him - three years ago, and not right now after leaving me to deal with a pregnancy and everything that entailed all by myself.

He didn’t have the right to play the concerned parent for the night, not when I’d taken that role alone and doing just fine. It just hurt too damn much.

“Of course it took him a while to fall asleep - you’re a stranger to him! What the hell did you do to Gemma!” I exclaimed as soon as the door was closed and we were facing each other in the living room.

As always, Loki was the perfect picture of poise and elegance as he raised an eyebrow and questioned, “A stranger? Hardly. He is my son after all.” I used to admire how he was able to remain so in control of his emotions when he wanted to, but now I just hated.

Just like I hated every single word that had left his lips right then. “He’s not yours!” I wanted to scream, but in respect of the child sleeping soundly not too far away from us, I didn’t. “There’s nothing left for you here, so go ahead and leave.”

It was the wrong thing to say, even if it was exactly what I wanted to, from the moment I first saw him here tonight. In a second, he was right before me, face barely an inch away, staring down at me with those cold eyes I used to love so much.

“How come?” He questioned, with a sobriety that baffled me. “My soul and heart were left here with you, while I was unjustly imprisoned for years, left to rot in a cell without the chance to say goodbye. I left them here with you, have you forgotten it?”

The shock of his statements, the emotions they induced me were too much for me to resist. I started sobbing, hiding my face between my hands as Loki’s arms embraced me, holding me to his chest.

It’s not that I hadn’t anticipated this possibility. I had known about his enemies and their power, but there hadn’t been a substantive threat in so long, I quickly dismissed that alternative - especially since I was hurting so much.

It was easier to be angry, and it was easier to be angry if I believed he had willingly left.

“It was hell, little one.” I looked up to meet his eyes with unshed tears on my own, not wanting to give in and wanting to do precisely so at the same time. “Being without you it was like…” He waved his hands around, as if searching for the best comparison for me to gather what he meant. “It was like being without oxygen.”

I didn’t want to, but it made me chuckle. Knowing he didn’t need the element but made sure to find something I’d actually relate to warmed my heart, despite it all.

“Having to rely solely to myself for everything…” That had my expression darkening, mind immediately going to the worst interpretation, thinking he had only missed me for my body. But before I could call him out, he rushed to explain, “… and I don’t even mean your touch. I missed everything about you.”

I breathed deeply as I stared at the man I still loved, searching and searching and coming to the undeniable conclusion that he was truly hurt by everything he was saying.

“And heavens, I can’t believe I missed this!” His eyes fell on the door behind which our infant son slept. “The birth of our child, the way your body changed with the proof of our love…”

His hands cradled my face with care, thumbs caressing my cheekbones as he looked deep inside my eyes. And I felt my resolve break entirely. “I missed being able to rely on you too,” I admitted, watching as his face lit up at the small creak I opened for him to get in.

“Does this mean I can stay?” It was the question I didn’t want and was dying to hear at the same time. Because the truth was, I didn’t know. But the more he spoke, the more I leaned towards an answer.

“I’ll do anything to get you to forgive me,” he pressed, squeezing my hips to emphasize his point. “I’ll fall down on my knees and beg. You know I don’t beg.” It was so true that it made me snort, but before I could feel embarrassed about it, Loki opened the most beautifully blinding smile I’d ever seen on his face.

“God, you are still the most wonderful creature I’ve ever laid my eyes on.” It made me avert my gaze, hide my expression against his chest, but he wasn’t having it. “I bet you looked even more incredible when you were pregnant.”

The reminder of what he missed made my heart ached, but it also made me realize just how much he was absent for. All this time I’d been stuck on my own suffering, and didn’t stop to think about how he felt.

“Don’t try to distract me.” My tone was teasing, so I knew it awakened the hope inside of him. Sighing, I looked up to confess my greatest fear about the entire situation, “I don’t know how to get over this.”

Loki knew what I meant. He understood that regardless of the circumstances that kept him from me, I was alone for too long, and for too long I fed myself the seeds of rage and mistrust that I needed to push through the situation. It was hard for me to simply let go of that.

But with another squeeze to my hips, he reassured me with a suggestion, “Let’s try it together.” His voice was soft and comforting as he continued, “Let me reassure you that I’m here to stay, for the rest of our lives.”

[oikawaplssteponme]

𝟐:𝟎𝟏 𝐀𝐌

pairing: Tsukishima Kei x gn! reader

warnings: one swear word, suggestive content

genre: fluff, the smallest hint of angst

word count: 891 words

synopsis: What do you do when you can’t sleep? The obvious answer is confess your feelings to your roommate, Tsukishima Kei.

a/n: for the lovely @kyotarou ‘s 24 Hours Collab! i am so grateful to have been a part of it and i loved writing this <3 ! go check out all the other amazing creators who wrote something for it :)) reblogs are greatly appreciated! enjoy xx

24 Hours Collab Masterlist

You stared up at the circling ceiling fan as you laid in your bed. You watched as the blades cut through the warm air of your bedroom. You clenched onto your blanket, taking a deep sigh. You couldn’t sleep no matter how hard you tried, and you knew exactly why.

You turned to your side, looking at the red lights reading ‘2:01 AM’ on your digital clock. Was it really that late already? Or early you supposed. You knew you wouldn’t be able to sleep until you had gotten this off of your chest. You hadn’t been sleeping at all lately, ever since your brain decided to remind you how you felt towards him. It was on a constant loop, hence how your mind was never able to shut off. For sake of your sanity, you knew what you had to do.

You pulled the covers off of you and got up from your bed. With careful feet, you walked quietly on the creaky floor, shutting the door behind you.

His bedroom was right there, not even three feet away from yours. You guessed that was one of the perks of being his roommate, you could bother him whenever you pleased. He was most likely asleep. Honestly, he was most definitely asleep. Unless there was something keeping him up too.

You knocked on his door, not too loudly but just right.

“Psst, Tsuki, are you awake?” You whispered. You could hear the ruffling of sheets on the other side of the door, signaling some kind of activity.

“No.”

You huffed, turning the doorknob.

“Oh so you sleep talk now?”

You walked over to Tsukishima’s bed, sitting down at the edge of it. Kei pulled the covers over his face.

“Y/N what the hell? It’s like two in the morning,” he groaned. You took the blanket from Kei to see his face. His eyes were still closed. You grabbed his glasses, placing them on his face.

“I couldn’t sleep. Could you?”

“I was asleep, idiot.”

Tsuki sat up, rubbing his eyes before adjusting his glasses.

“Since when do you sleep shirtless?” You teased. Tsuki crossed his arms.

“Since you started turning the thermostat to eighty degrees every night.”

“Hey my room gets cold.”

“How is that my problem?”

You crossed your arms as well.

“Why are you extra grumpy today? I just wanted to talk to you,” you pouted. Kei rolled his eyes.

“So if I woke you up at two AM and stormed into your room, you wouldn’t be the least bit annoyed?”

“No…”

Tsuki sighed. He scratched the back of his head.

“Can‘t this wait until later?” he said. You looked down at your hands.

“Well, uh, it’s been bothering me for a bit and I just kinda need to get it out,” you whispered. Tsuki raised a brow.

“Alright then, just spit it out.”

You opened your mouth but no words came out. Your palms began to get sweaty and you couldn’t seem to look him in the eye.

“God Y/N...so you woke me up for nothing-”

“Just give me a damn second! Actually-screw this-”

You got up from his bed making your way to the door. Tsuki got up as well, grabbing your hand. He pulled your back towards him.

“Don’t be like that Y/N-”

“No you’re the one being difficult here! Can't you see that I’m trying my best to figure out what I’m gonna say?”

Tsuki tilted his head. He took a deep breath and loosened his grip on you.

“I’m sorry, I’ll listen.”

You shook your head, feeling all confidence that had brought you here slowly melting away.

“This is way harder than I thought it would be…”

“Why’s that?”

You looked up at Tsukishima, feeling your heart beginning to pound.

“Because it’s you...and I have no idea how you’re gonna react...”

Kei gently placed his hand underneath your chin, caressing your skin softly.

“I’ll be nice. I swear-”

“I just want you to be honest, which is the scary part.”

You could barely see his facial expressions from the darkness of his room, just a small sliver of moonlight touched his face. Yet, you knew he was smiling.

“You can tell me Y/N.”

You nodded, taking a deep breath.

“I-uh...like you Kei…”

You painfully awaited his response, fearing what he was about to say. The last thing you expected was for him to chuckle.

“I like you too Y/N.”

Your eyes widened, but disappointment still lingered. You sighed.

“No Tsuki, not like that. I meant that I like you like-”

Before you could finish, you felt Kei’s lips against yours. You stiffened up when you first felt his touch, but instantly melted into him as he kissed you with more passion. You wrapped your arms around his neck as he pulled you closer. His hands grazed your body, as if he had waited for this moment for ages, just as you had. Before you knew it, you were pressed up against the wall of his bedroom, begging for more.

Tsukishima pulled away from the kiss as the two of you caught your breath. Tsuki had one hand on the wall, above your head as he looked down at you with a devilish smirk.

“I knew what you meant. I just needed to make myself clear too.”

[general taglist: @lealofsblog @iwaisa @bakugousmymassa @evivn1 @tetsoleil @bokutory @vangoghmusings @moonlightaangel @misszenin @marajillana @sopesmin @alaina-rose13 @shotoful @katlingclaw ]

[writing-for-me-at-this-point]

Matching Rings | Osamu Dazai | Bungo Stray Dogs

Request: A gift for @smoochi-dazai​

Word Count: 1186 words

Page Count: 3.3 pages

A.N. Okay, so I’m dumb as fyuhck. Osamu is his first name- not Dazai. And this is the first thing I’ve written in a while as a full story so I’m rusty. Hope you all enjoy though!

        The soft and heavy haze of sleep laid heavy on your body, a soft groan left your lips as you shifted in bed, the intense heat of the blanket and room combined made a whine follow rather quickly. You stilled your body soon after that, your eyes rolled in irritation, deciding to leave the bed for a bit to cool down. In just your underwear and a tanktop, you found the cool air calming your body heat, a small sigh of relief leaving you. Stretching your arms over your head, you made your way to the thermostat, bringing the heat down to sixty-eight, preferring a cooler temperature anyways. 

        "'m thirsty." You muttered, padding to the kitchen to grab a water bottle, a small sway in your steps. The extra chill of the fridge had you in heaven, and with weak arms you managed to sit yourself on the counter, eyes now closed and back hunched, you were half way back into sleep once again. You didn't notice the soft footsteps in the house, opting to ignore them- seeing as your aunt had the habit of waking up in the middle of the night to check on you, you wouldn't be surprised to see her.

        "Ah, here you are, my sleepy, Belladonna." Osamus voice rang out, singing to a melody that was just for the two of you, a smile on your face as you lolled your head over to his direction. He did have the habit of entering your house , so hearing him of all people wasn't something that would worry you, especially after having to work a few jobs like he had done tonight.

        "Hm. Osamu, it's late, an'... how'd ya get in here?" You asked, a hand coming up to rub your eye, moonlight lighting up the empty kitchen to bring your boyfriend into your line of sight. He usually called before he came over, or told you earlier in the day, either way- you were expecting a heads up.

        "You're really asking me how I got into your house? When I've done this... gods know how many times? I'm in the Port, [ Y/n ]." He laughed to himself, arms out as he strode towards you, hands placed on either side of you. You let out a short chuckle and turned your head, hands in your lap, his own voice mingled with yours. Humming, you leaned down, forehead touching his, his eyes closed at the contact, enjoying your nose slowly moving against his.

        Though he was freshly indoctrinated to the Port Mafia, paired with possibly the most insufferable kid as a partner, and quickly rising the ranks to executive- he was still a teenager. He still enjoyed his moments of peace with you, the warmth whenever the mere thought of you crossed his mind, the calm before the storm that covered the stars in the sky the both of you would often gaze at on the roof of your aunts home.

        "I got you a gift-" He started, pulling away from you, a hand moving to your thigh as the other went into the pocket of the overcoat that hung on his shoulders.

        "Osamu, I told you not to do that." You sighed.

        "I know, I know, but I just couldn't resist. You see, today is a very special day, for both you and me." He mused, playful in tone and movements, he pulled out a small black box- soft to the touch, and quite small, like the one that would hold a ring...

        "Osamu, I swear to the gods if you're-"

        "I'm not proposing, if that's what you're asking- er, well, thinking. Not yet, at least." He murmured, shifting side to side. Yet? At least he was thinking of the future, or was he just messing with you? He had a habit of doing that. And not to forget, you were too tired to care for a small statement like that.

        "It's the day you..." He sung, pointing both fingers at you, the small velvet box held gently between both hands.

        "And I," He pulled his fingers in, jutting his thumbs out to point at himself, his smirk becoming a soft smile.

        "Met. In turn, we started this whirlwind of a romance, me and you." You smiled at his words, fully awake at this point, holding his larger and much colder hands between yours. A sigh left you once again, and you leaned forward to kiss him, soft and gentle. Appreciative and full of love. You knew Osamu was always... himself, often leaving you wondering if he really did care about you, but those were just small moments.

        He knew how to make you feel special.

        You just wish it wasn't in the middle of the night.

        But this will do, for now.

        Opening the box slowly, you watched as he unveiled the two ebony bands, a large gold stripe ran horizontally in the middle. Your eyes shot open, this surely was expensive, and looked like something you'd never want to lose. Your breath was caught on your throat, and you could see on the inside of the bands two small symbols on opposing sides. 

        Your astrology signs.

        Your heart was soaring, heat filled your face in adoration and embarrassment, probably due to the fact that you annoyed your boyfriend with the stars to the point he bought you matching rings. 

        "Holy shit, Osamu, these must've been expen-"

        "Worth it, you mean! I mean, the look in your eyes, I'd buy a hundred more just to see it again!" Oh no, your heart! You couldn't hide the smile on your face, opting to look down at your lap and the box holding the rings, his laugh rung in your ears again. He coaxed you into looking up, taking one of the rings and placing it on your right hand, opting for your ring finger. 

        "This is beautiful, thank you, really." You spoke up, taking the other ring into your own hand, his right in your own. You placed his own ring on his hand, your mind racing, not knowing how to articulate yourself properly.

        "You know I'm not good with words-" You started, you wanted to make these words count, mean something, he got you such an expensive gift after all!

        "One thing I love about you." He said, laying his head on your chest, arms tightly wound around you.

        "But, really, I love this. It- it means a lot. I just wish I could get you something like this-"

        "It's alright, not everyone our age works so high up in the Port Mafia."

        "Jesus Christ, Osamu, I'm trying to be grateful here. Maybe even romantic." You rolled your eyes, a smile on your face as your head shook, his antics getting to you again.

        "Eh, that isn't really our style, now is it?" He grinned, fingers pressing into your sides slowly, a small jolt coming from you.

        "No, not really." Your hands hand into his hair, playing with the locks, mindful of the bandages that were meant to cover his eye.

        "Good. I thought I would have thrown up."

        "Okay- ew."

[iknowthekoolaidflavor]

Surrexit lingua vestra cattus

Thomas appears to be a friend, but he is a demon after all.

Pairing: demon!Thomas x reader

Word count: Abt 2k

A/N: The translations came from Google, so by any means, please correct my Latin. My idea for demons and their jobs is loosely based on Supernatural because I miss it so much 😭

Take Latin, they said.

It will be fun, they said.

As a senior, you thought taking a language class would somehow lighten your stressful workload, and you were wrong. Latin kicked your ass every single week.

“Why didn’t I take Spanish?”, you groaned, dropping your head on the desk

The dorm room was empty, save for the stressed-out senior studying for finals. Your roommate, the English major, breezed through all their courses with flying colors. Avery was a natural when it came to writing and criticizing your essays. They were sure to graduate at the top of the class. Y/N, on the other hand, struggled to conjugate daily activities in past tense. College may not have been too much of a stressor in life, but this semester has fucked you over in more ways than one. All you wanted to do was graduate on time and that meant for the next two semesters you had to take 18 credits.

With the final tomorrow, you knew relearning the information was a lost cause.

Can I go home and tell mom I failed? I will never hear the end of it.

I’ll have to sit through another lecture about switching majors.

The wayward thoughts took over, filling your head with how disappointed your family will be. You wrapped your arms around yourself, head dropped to your knees when you heard something hit the floor. To your left, a book managed to fall off the bookshelf, landing on its spine.

You took your time getting the open book off the floor and reading the bookmarked page. Who would have thought your precious roommate would also be interested in demonology? The page was in English except for one paragraph at the bottom written in Latin. You read it to yourself, wincing at your terrible pronunciation.

“I guess demons aren’t real after all”, you laughed to yourself as you placed the book back on the shelf

You turned on your heel, then ran into something solid.

“Who told you demons weren’t real, sweetheart?”

The figure braced himself for the scream that escaped your lips. It happened from time to time. Someone thought demon summoning was a joke, he showed up, then boom instant nightmare. The demon towered over you. He appeared to be in his thirties. The wild, but neat curls framing his face were enough to cover the bottom of his horns. He stared down at you with his pitch-black eyes, bored with your screams.

“Are you done yet?”, he scoffed, “I’m not that bad”

“You’re a demon”

“You say it like it’s a bad thing. I’m no longer disgusted in the presence of humans…although I should be. Just gross and full of emotions”

The demon walked around your small dorm, looking the at the bookshelf before his eyes landed on the book you just put away. He immediately perked up and pulled it off the shelf.

“I can’t believe they still make copies of these. Are you a fan of mine?”, he stared at you with a suggestive quirk of his brow

“It’s not my book, and why would I be a fan of you?”

“Sure, it isn’t. It’s also my book. Had to get the word out somehow”

“Everything is already stressing me out. Why would I want to add a demon to the mix?”, you hissed

“To make your life less stressful. That is what we’re here for”

“A demon just steps in, makes your life better at no cost at all?”

The demon smirked as he took a seat on your roommate’s desk. He remained composed during your interrogation. Typically, the deals were quick. Everyone knew what they wanted, and he set the nonnegotiable price for their demands. This might take a little longer, but he was up for the challenge.

“You have a point. Nothing is free, sweetheart”

“Don’t call me that”

“Don’t call me demon”

“Aren’t you a demon?”

He paused for a moment, opening his mouth for a smart remark, yet it never came. A soft laugh came in its wake.

“Thomas. You can call me Thomas”

The name put you at ease, but only for a little while. You sighed as you sat on your bed, picking up your Latin notes again.

“…and you are?”

“A human that doesn’t need your help. Nothing is worth risking a deal with a dem—you. I can’t risk that”

“There’s nothing I can help you with?”

“No”, you stated with as much firmness you could muster. The room felt slightly warmer since Satan’s spawn appeared out of nowhere.

“Not even your Latin homework?”, Thomas grinned, watching your faux hostility crumble. He knew you needed his help, but he did not mind waiting for you to ask nicely.

“I’m studying for a final and no, you can’t”

“I’ve lived for over three centuries. I think I’ve picked up more than enough Latin in my lifetime. Why do you think it’s all in my book?”

“Why would I want your help?”

“Because you’ll fail without me”

“No, I won’t. Maybe. Who cares? I don’t need your help”

“Well”, he sighed as he stepped off the bed, “te visurum”

Thomas’s hand touched the doorknob. How bad can it be? Why is he willing to help you? If he apparated in your room, why did he need to use the door?

“For dramatic effect. Do you want my help or not? I know a trick or two to help you study”, he reasoned, aware that you were already screaming yes

“Fine, but this is time for studying. I don’t need any distractions”

Thomas was indeed a distraction.

He stopped after every three phrases to ask you about your studies, hometown, and why you summoned him in the first place. You did not strike him as the type of person to summon a demon unless they were desperate.

The space between the two of you were sparse. The longer he stayed, the warmer it felt. The thermostat in the room remained untouched since he arrived. For some reason, you felt your body warming up the longer he stayed around you. You sat up on the bed with your laptop in front of you, attempting to put some space between you. Thomas laid on his side, holding himself up with his elbow. Every time his horn brushed against your arm; your skin tingled, sending small trembles to places in your body you did not want to speak about.

“Do demons have tails too?”

“Does it look like I have a tail?”

“You have black eyes and eyes, I wouldn’t put it past you”, you smirked, “Don’t get an attitude with me, blame the internet”

“I can’t do anything about the internet taking artistic liberties for what we look like, but some of it is erroneous. Don’t need a tail or wings”

“What about your horns? What’s their purpose?”

Thomas grew silent. He never wondered why he needed his horns, dark eyes, or claws. They were just there. They were a part of him. It made people fear him whenever they crossed paths and easier to get what he wanted without threatening violence. Although he loved the latter, it made his life much easier. It did not take much for him to intimidate the strongest of men, but you seemed different. Besides the initial reaction, it appeared that there’s no part of you that feared him. If no one knew who he was, one would think you were talking to another human.

“Did I offend you or something?”, you asked, finally looking up from your notebook

“No”, Thomas blinked, “Not at all. It’s going to take more than that to offend me…”

“I’m still not giving you my name and I like a challenge”

Little did you know, so did he.  

“I’ve been living amongst demons for so long, I forgot that humans aren’t used to our appearance. It got pretty lonely down there, then I came here and not much changed”

“I’m sure you’ll find someone who won’t scream for the hills when they see you”, you giggled

“I may have found one already”, Thomas replied with a devious smirk, “I’m going to give you a little push. There’s no way you’re passing this class…”

Trying to look offended was no use. You knew you were not going to pass either, regardless if Thomas helped you or not. This was a lost cause, and you were back where you started. Thomas pulled himself off the bed, collecting his coat and fixing his hair.

“There is another way I can help you, darling”

You closed your laptop and notebook, moving to the edge of the mattress.

“I’m not making a deal with you”

“You don’t have to. I’ll help you pass, and you’ll give me nothing in return”

“Why?”

“Do you know how often college students ask me for penis enlargement? Not help with studying. Not passing a class or paying for tuition. But you? You’re different. I like you, which is why this one’s on me”

“You’re going to help me…for free?”

“I only want to help”, he said, offering up his hands in mock surrender, “Next time, you’ll know when you’re summoning a demon. Do you know how much danger you put yourself in? Also, I’ll be happy to know you passed that final because you’re bound to fail”

“Gee, thanks”

If he helps you pass, he may come back and renege on his offer. There is probably some fine print that says you will belong to him for all of eternity. On the other hand, no more nagging from your mother about your major.

“Fine, I accept”, you agree as you moved to shake his hand

“Oh sweetheart”, Thomas laughed, “You naïve little thing. You really are new to this. That’s not how we seal the deal”

Thomas took a step forward, stepping in between your legs. In that moment, you became painfully aware of the dampness between your thighs.

“A quick kiss, then we’re all done”

You allowed him to move closer. He placed his hands against your cheeks as he placed a soft kiss on your lips. Thomas took his time kissing you, nails ghosting above your collar bone. The gasp that escaped gave him space to slide his tongue in your mouth. You found your hands tangled in his shirt, trying to pull him closer. Thomas happily obliged, placing his hands on the mattress, giving you the chance to wrap your arms around his neck.

Thomas’s hands inched up your shirts as he left rough kisses on your neck. The moan you released when he bit down on the flesh made him weak. His fingers wrapped around your hair and gave a slight tug. When your eyes rolled to the back of your head, he pulled harder, trying to hold himself up with his cock pressed into your thigh. You became so pliant in a matter of moments. This was all he wanted.

Before his hands could reach your bra, the faint sound of keys rang from the other side of the door. Panicked, you pushed Thomas off you.

“See you soon Y/N”, he winked before disappearing

Avery walked in as you were picking their book off the floor. You were quickly pulling your shirt down and trying to fix your hair.

“Told you the book was good”, they smirked

“Can I borrow it for a little longer?”

“Sure”

The next morning you woke up with last night as a distant memory. You quizzed yourself on past and present tense while you showered and focused on your phrases as you got dressed. You knew you were going to pass, something about today just felt right.

You stepped out your dormitory and headed to class. Across the yard, one of your classmates called out to you.

“Y/L/N, want to walk together?”

There was no reason to say no, but when you opened your mouth to say yes, nothing came out. You tried over and over, but each time, your mouth moved, your voice failed to follow suit. You stood in the middle of the yard. Everything felt like it moved in slow motion. Thomas took something valuable to you, and you were none the wiser to his game.

You yanked the demon book from your backpack, intent on summoning the very demon you now despise. In the middle of the cover was a sticky note with a message that made your blood boil.

Quid est? Surrexit lingua vestra cattus

 te visurum - see you later

Quid est? Surrexit lingua vestra cattus - What’s wrong? Cat got your tongue?

[yourfavewriteress]

rocky road | jonathan toews

Teaser: “We gotta figure this out because I don’t want to keep fighting you every single day.”

Jonathan and I were currently in the middle of a rough patch. The Blackhawks weren’t doing as well as expected this late in the season. The transition from winter to spring was having its effects on my mood and migraines. Work is killing me everyday to the point where I hardly do anything once I get home except shower and get in bed. To top it all off, Jon and I have barely talked in almost two weeks, aside from the frequent bickering.

We have never been the couple that fights excessively. Jon isn’t the type to go back and forth over something small and petty. He doesn’t like to argue, he likes to talk. Whenever we crossed the line from having a conversation to bickering, Jon always suggested a pause to refocus the conversation and come to an agreement. Yet, lately our fights have been getting less conversational, and more unproductive. 

The one thing that attracted me to Jon the most when we first met was how quiet and driven he was. He was a man in all aspects of the word and I loved that. While I dealt with the stresses of my job, Jon knew that I couldn’t be the trophy wife that many guys in the NHL desired. Although his job is a priority for him, my own job is a priority for me. I never felt like I was taking care of him, or him taking care of me. We were partners who have mastered scheduling their lives around each other, and the condo we had moved into seven months ago. 

When I brought up our current relationship situation with my friends, they assured me that we were simply going through a phase “and, yes, even perfect couples like you guys have them.” I wasn’t unhappy with Jon at the moment, but we have definitely been better. 

As I prepared myself for another day at work, I made my morning coffee and checked over the day’s schedule. While I would be gone until around 7 today, Jon had a busy day until 9:30. My coffee was barely finished before Jon appeared, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes.

“Hey,” He mumbled, walking towards the refrigerator.

“Morning,” I responded. As I waited, all that could be heard in the kitchen was the coffeemaker and Jon’s movements. I poured my finished drink just as he spoke again.

“Did you turn the thermostat down last night?”

“Is it too cold for you?” I watched as he looked over at me.

“I’m kind of used to it at this point,” He responded.

“I did turn it down before I got in bed, why are you asking?”

“Can we compromise and keep it above 60?” 

“You live here, too, so if that’s what you want,” I shrugged.

“You really don’t have to be like that,” He sighed. “I’m just asking.”

“I’m not being like anything, Jon. Maybe you’re reading into things a little too hard.”

“You hog the blankets, which I don’t mind because I know you don’t do it on purpose. But it felt like the North Pole last night and I don’t want to get sick.”

“Oh, trust me, I know. We cannot let the star captain get sick when he has hockey to play,” I mumbled.

“Y/N,” He ran his hands over his face. “We gotta figure this out because I don’t want to keep fighting you every single day.” I didn’t say anything and Jon closed the fridge and looked at me. “You have to realize we can’t even talk to each other without arguing, right?”

“Mhm.”

“And, you don’t see that as a problem?”

I scoffed, rolling my eyes. “Are you seriously asking me that? I asked you a week ago to talk yet here we are.”

“I had a game that day,” He defended. “I had to focus on that.”

“I’m happy that you so boldly point out that hockey comes before me, especially when we’re both going through a tough time. But, what about the next day? I’m pretty sure you had two days off and we still haven’t talked.”

He looked down at the counter, “Hockey doesn’t come before you, you know that.”

“Say that to me when it’s actually true. Other than that, don’t lie to my face,” I grabbed my cup, moving towards the hallway. “I have to get ready for work.”

I walked back to our bedroom, going straight to the bathroom and closing the door behind me. I turned the shower on, beginning to get undressed. I sipped my coffee slowly as I let the water heat up.

As mature as I was, I knew I had my moments where biting my tongue would have been the better option. I would absolutely be respecting Jon’s wishes about the temperature of our room, because it was our shared space. But, he didn’t have to know that yet. Especially when I have already told him he could change the thermostat whenever he was uncomfortable.

I showered and brushed my teeth quickly, wrapping my towel tightly around my body. I exited the bathroom to see Jon buttoning his shirt. He looked up when I entered the room.

I moved to my walk-in, grabbing my clothes for the day. Rushing myself to get dressed, I stumbled around the closet for a few minutes. When I walked out, Jon was fully dressed, reaching into his bag.

“I’m not gonna be back tonight til after 8,” He said.

“I know,” I responded, brushing through my hair.

“Make sure you actually eat today,” He said, followed by the zipping of his bag. “I’ll see you later.”

“Bye.” I did my best not to frown as Jon walked out of our bedroom. 

In the past two weeks, I could count on one hand the amount of affection that we’ve shown each other. We used to kiss or be touching each other in someway at all times. But now, the only time Jon was within three feet of me was when we were in bed. I guess that’s a plus, that we still sleep next to each other. I would be lying if I didn’t notice the deliberate space between us under the covers, though.

As the front door closed behind Jon, I continued getting ready for work. Until I had to stop. 

Washing my coffee cup in the sink, I felt the familiar sensation in my eye and head, signaling the migraine to come. I groaned to myself, pausing to down a full glass of water. 

At the on-site of migraines, I always had a decision to make. I could either one, power through it and continue on with my day or two, call it and get back in bed. The frequency of my migraines increased with stress so I wasn’t surprised as my left temple began to pulse. Looking at the time, I had over an hour before I had to be at my desk and thirty minutes to leave our condo. Already feeling nauseous, I decided that today would be the day that I called it. I would have all day to recover, with Jon being gone, and I could get a much needed break from work and the world. 

After calling my boss and explaining the situation to her, she agreed before I even finished. Annoyed at the fact that I was already dressed and basically ready to go, I changed back into sleep clothes. I didn’t realize until I walked past the mirror that my sleep clothes consisted of one of Jon’s shirts and a pair of his boxers as shorts. 

Forcing myself to eat, I made a small breakfast of eggs and toast before climbing back under the covers in our dark room. In the past, I made sure to tell Jon when I was experiencing a migraine so that he knew. I wasn’t sure if it was anger towards him or my sleepiness but as soon as my head hit the pillow, I was out. No message to Jon. 

I spent the day in bed, slipping in and out of consciousness. Other than to use the bathroom, I stayed under the comforters as the sun set that afternoon.

I assume I slept through the entire day as I awoke to movement in Jon’s closet and the light on. I blinked a few times, trying to adjust my eyes after them being closed for basically over 12 hours. Jon walked out his closet and I watched as he looked around the room, his eyes landing on me.

“Hey,” He said, noticing that I was now awake. He moved closer to my side of the bed, crouched down so we were at eye-level. If my head hadn’t of been hurting, I would have noticed how close he was for the first time in awhile. He searched my face, “Are you okay?”

“I have a migraine,” I mumbled. 

“Did you eat?”

“A little,” I responded.

“You know you have to eat more than a little,” He said, standing up. “I’m gonna change and then I’ll make you something.”

“You don’t have to,” I sighed. “I’m sure you’d probably prefer to not be around me right now.”

“Not responding to that,” He called from his closet. “I always want to be around you, no matter what’s going on.”

I turned over in bed, pulling the covers back over me. “That sounded like a response, Jonny boy.”

The nickname slipped out before I could even think about it and when I looked back at him in his closet, he was smiling softly. I looked away just as I felt a smile creep onto my lips. It was the first time in a few days that our expressions towards each other were anything but annoyance or indifference.

“Can you see okay?” He asked after a few moments.

“Yeah, the aura went away a couple hours ago.”

“And, your head?”

“Pounding,” I said, simply. I heard Jon sigh before I felt his hand on my leg.

“Do you want to come downstairs to the couch?”

I nodded, moving to sit up. “How was practice?”

“Fine,” He shrugged. “Can we talk later though? I’ve been thinking a lot today.”

“I was being a bitch earlier, I’m sorry,” I admitted. “It was a simple request.”

“I’ve been an asshole for two weeks,” He responded. “This morning was nothing compared to that.”

He moved so that he was sitting on the edge of the bed.

“Hockey is tough right now, I get that. We’ve been through this before, Jon. Work is kicking my ass, too, and it’s overwhelming,” I said. “I don’t know why we’re clashing so much but we know how to communicate. I know how to talk to you and you know how to talk to me, but…”

“...But, we're still fighting,” He finished, nodding.

“I know I can be a lot, and you have to worry about not only me but your team, too. I can’t imagine how much stress you’re under right now but you have to let me know what you need or want from me. I can’t just keep walking on eggshells while I’m stressed myself. It’s not fair.”

“I know,” He sighed. “I didn’t realize how much I was pushing you away. I don’t ever want you to be walking on eggshells around me. You live here just as much as I do and I’m sorry for everything. I know I can forget to stop bringing hockey home with me every night and I’ve clearly been doing that. I’m not gonna make excuses for it because we already talked about this. I’m sorry.”

“I don’t care if you bring hockey home. Obviously, I would like it if I didn’t have to sit through hours of guys slamming into each other on the ice, but I would do it if it’ll be helpful for you. I don’t mind watching hours of hockey. I know it’s a priority for you right now, and I don’t expect that to change. But, we’re a team. I want to help so you’re not beating yourself up every single day.”

He smiled, “I know.”

“It’s not just you, I know I can be better, too. When I’m stressed, I know I can be a handful and a half and you’re an angel for dealing with it. I’m not easy to talk to and you still take care of me. I don’t deserve you.”

“You deserve the world,” He said. “But, I don’t care how much of a handful you think you are, I love you and that’s not gonna change.”

“I’m just sorry,” I mumbled, looking down.

Jon moved closer, pulling me into his chest. “I think you’re just being nice because your head hurts. I’m equally at fault for this, if not, more.”

I laughed against his chest, immediately regretting it as I was reminded of my migraine.

“I mean it,” I said once he pulled away.

“Okay, so we’re both sorry, and we’re both gonna do better, yeah?”

“Yeah.”

“Good,” He kissed me and I sighed against him.

“I missed you,” I said. “Even though we’ve both been here.”

“I missed you,” He smiled, pecking my lips again. “But, your head still hurts so dinner first.”

He helped me out of the bed, wrapping his hand around mine as we walked downstairs. 

“I’ll get you some water and bring it over,” Jon said as I sat down on our couch, leaning against the arm. I watched as he dimmed the lights in our apartment, looking over at me to hold up his thumbs in question. “Is this good for you?”

“Yeah,” I laughed softly. “Did you know the lights did that before you showed me this place?”

He nodded, smiling. “Thoughtful, eh?”

“I guess you could say that,” I shrugged. He walked over to me, handing me a glass of water.

“You don’t think I’m thoughtful?” He raised his eyebrows in question.

“I think you’re a sap when you want to be,” I laughed, making my head throb. I flinched, leaning back slightly.

Jon leaned in, pressing his lips to my temple. “Stop laughing at me, you’re making your head worse.”

I puckered my lips to him in response. He smiled, shaking his head while standing up straight. “You’re trying to distract me. I have to get you something to eat and then I’ll kiss you.”

“That’s unfair,” I whined.

“Once you eat, I promise you’ll have my full attention, baby,” He laughed. “So needy.”

“Hurry up, Jonathan. We have a lot of making up to do.”

[cordytriestowrite]

Knocking On Your Door

Bucky Barnes x Reader

One Shot College AU

Summary: Bucky can't sleep and you can't find your door.

The strip of light under the door was too bright and the heavy footfalls just outside sent shadows across Bucky's eyelids so that every time he felt compelled to open them. He knew it was late but didn't dare touch his phone and have his retinas burned by the intense, artificial light. Ten feet to his right his best friend let out a loud, choking snore reminding Bucky he was the only one having a problem adjusting to dorm life. 

A shiver ran down Bucky's body as his left shoulder escaped from the warm cocoon of his comforter and he had to expose his right hand to the cold to tuck everything back in. A sleeping Steve missed Bucky's lukewarm glare in the dark. The man could sleep soundly on a bed of ice but Bucky? Well, Bucky hated the cold. The thermostat for the whole floor was just down the hall behind a plastic cage. He spared a moment to fantasize about ripping it off with his bare hand before hurling it out the window and watching it shatter on the sidewalk below. And while the fantasy was nice the reality was Bucky should probably just put on a sweater, but he hated wearing shirts to bed so he stubbornly suffered in silence. 

Two students passed through the hall in a heated conversation at full volume. Did anyone take morning classes on this floor? Bucky wondered bitterly as he burrowed his head underneath his pillow and let out a tiny, totally manly whimper of exhaustion. He knew college would be tough, was told as much by everyone he knew, but no one thought to mention how impossible it would be to get some fucking sleep.

The tips of his ears and nose warmed with his head planted under his pillow and while his neck ached slightly and his inhales became filled more with exhaled breath than fresh air he found his eyes suddenly heavy with sleep. 

The rattling of the door knob had Bucky bolting upright. The sound was insistent, offending Bucky's ears every few seconds while he blinked sleep from his eyes. The sudden cold air on his chest helped rouse him enough to pull the covers back and put his feet on the equally cold ground. He took a moment to grit his teeth against the chill. 

What sounded like an open palm smacked once against the wood spurring Bucky to leap the short distance across the room. His hand gripped the still wriggling knob and wretched the door open.

"Jesus, do you know what time it is?"

The greeting growled out of him, he couldn't help it. He knew he was wild-eyed, hair messy, and torso bare to display the stump where his arm should be and that alone would have made even his closest friends take an instinctual step away.

But you only blinked owlishly at him.

"You're not Carol?" You managed to slur out the cohesive thought as you stared at the man in front of you who was definitely not your roommate. 

"Uh," Bucky's forehead crinkled with his own confusion. 

"No?"

It was obvious you were drunk. If Bucky didn't have eyes he'd still be able to smell the reek of booze pouring off your skin. 

"Why are you in my room?" 

"I'm not. I'm in my room."

"Who are you?"

"Bucky, who are you?"

Your gaze hardened and your hands braced against your hips. You knew where you lived god dammit and this...this...Bucky would not put you out on your ass.

"Get out of my room you creep!"

Bucky's movements were quicker than yours, his arm coming up to block your two handed push. What neither of you anticipated was the lack of balance on your end that had you crumpling into each other like a car crash. It took your brain a minute to breach the surface of understanding and reorient your sense of space to its current status: horizontal with a bloom of pain in your knee and your face pressed to bare skin. Your tongue swiped along your bottom lip and the action was answered with a pulsing sting and the taste of copper.

"Ouchies." You moaned with a pathetic warble.

A groan of agreement rumbled beneath you. Bucky, with the wind still knocked out of him, glanced up at the bed half expecting a disheveled blond head to lean over the edge. If Steve woke up at all from the commotion he already deemed it not as important as sleeping.

You didn't seem interested in moving off of Bucky and occasionally he could feel your tongue leave a wet trail against his chest which was kind of weirding him out. The last thing he wanted was to be accused of taking advantage of a drunk girl by another loud late-night hall walker. With his arm on your opposite shoulder he tugged gently until you fell onto the rug beside him. 

"Where's Carol?" You asked again, feeling your eyes sting with big, fat, extra salty tears.

"I want french fries." You added as an afterthought. 

Bucky let out a surprised chuckle, muffling it behind his palm as he let it slide down his face and pull at his lower lip.

"Me too."

Your stomach contracted with a mix of hunger and nausea. Turning on your side you tried to settle into a comfortable position on the hard floor. Bucky turned on his side toward you, his eyes flitting over your face with concern.

"Don't fall asleep."

Your lower lip jutted out, the pull of skin ripping the split open further. Your tongue ran along the wound again. 

"I'm not!"

Your eyes closed of their own accord though your mind was still very much active. You wondered yet again where Carol was. But finding her was only  secondary to your new mission.

"I want french fries."

You heard a sigh and cracking one eye open your vision swam for a moment before taking in the man next to you. His hair was long, pooling onto the floor under his head. His eyes were rimmed with dark circles and weary with the need for sleep. His chest was bare, pale and toned and scarred where his limb suddenly ended.

"Did I do that?" You wondered out loud, your fingers inching toward the pink, tight skin. 

"No." he answered, his voice soft with vulnerability. 

Bucky felt as if he had hit the floor all over again. He felt dizzy and breathless and unable to do anything but watch what was happening. Fingers connected with flesh and the sharp intake of air hurt his lungs. It didn't feel like much, the nerves dull and your touch light, but Bucky's body was awake with awareness. 

"I've never…" 

Your thought floated away halfway through speaking it, but Bucky nodded as if he understood. Eventually your fingers stopped stroking and Bucky rolled over to his back. There was a second of stillness before he sat up and stared down at you.

"Tell you what: let's go find your friend Carol and get you some french fries."

You ignored the pain of your lip in favor of offering Bucky a wide smile.

"Fuck yes let's go!"

Bucky sent a quick glance to the lump in Steve's bed which remained unmoving despite your exclamation. Rising first he offered his hand to you, bending his knees and keeping his balance low and centered as you stumbled your way up to standing. 

-

"Wake up sleeping beauty."

You groaned, pulling your blanket above your head. Your head was pounding, blood pulsing painfully behind your eyes. Your mouth was dry, breath foul, and bladder full. In essence you were hungover. 

"Carol, I'm dying." You moaned, your voice breaking with overuse. 

"I know sweetie. Now sit up and take these."

Carol pulled the blanket back and waited patiently for you to sit up before dropping the pills into your awaiting palm. You dropped them into your mouth and tried not to gag as you washed them down. 

"So you had an interesting night, huh?"

You had settled back down, the effort it took to stay upright too much to handle right now. You draped your forearm over your eyes and let out a sigh of relief.

"I don't know, did I?"

Carol didn't answer but you could still feel her weight on the edge of your bed. You snuck a peak from under your arm.

"Carol Danvers what do you know?"

She shrugged, but the burgeoning smirk on her lips suggested she wasn't entirely ignorant. You sat up again, your body hunched over with nausea, but you persevered. 

"Tell me what you know, woman!"

Carol's lips quirked upward, her stare steady in silent resistance. You were about to flop back down and leave last night a mystery but Carol must've seen your interest waning. 

"Imagine my surprise when there is a knock on the door at four in the morning and it's you holding a basket of fries in one hand and waving goodbye to some tall, dark, and handsome with the other."

"Who was it?"

Carol shrugged, finally getting up and crossing back over to her side of the room and tugging on her brown leather jacket.

"I'm meeting Maria for breakfast. Want me to bring you something back or do you think you can brave the journey."

As much as you wanted to spend the day in bed with your roommate bringing you food you knew the best way to recover from your monster hangover was to walk your tired ass downstairs and across campus to the cafeteria, load up a plate with greasy food, and shovel it all into your face until you felt human again.

You pulled back your covers to find yourself still in the outfit you wore last night, a wrinkled shirt and skirt combo that did not look as cute as it did last night. Pulling on sweatpants and a hoodie you followed Carol at a much slower pace. 

Maria was leaning against the outside wall of the cafeteria until she spotted Carol. You watched her jog to meet her girlfriend sooner by a few seconds with a flutter in your own chest at just how fucking cute they were. 

"Not that I don't like seeing you two be adorable but I need hash browns."

Maria took one look at your current state and nodded seriously, pulling Carol along under her arm.

"Well shit who am I to deny you breakfast?"

The cafeteria was surprisingly busy for a Saturday morning, but the lines of food were already being switched out for lunch items and you realized it was later than you thought. 

You were plopping your third scoop of eggs onto your plate when you felt a presence next to you. Looking up beyond the edge of your hood a spark of recognition barely ignited in your memory, but something about him seemed familiar. His plate sat mostly empty on the runner and you assumed he was waiting for his turn with the eggs. 

"Sorry." You muttered, dropping the spoon and moving along the line.

"For which part?" 

Bucky had barely registered that the hunched and bundled body next to him was you until you spoke. He had dropped you off at the door a floor below his only six hours ago then took the stairs back to his room and promptly passed out. Steve tried to rouse him for a morning run with Sam but unlike Steve, Bucky hadn't caught a wink of sleep until the sun was rising. Steve's return and Sam's insistent prodding at Bucky's body beneath his blanket had spurred him awake and in a foul mood. He escaped the room with his foul mood intact wondering if Natasha would let him crash in her bed while she worked. She didn't answer when he knocked on her door and in a futile attempt to catch up on sleep he ventured to the cafeteria. She wasn't there but now that Bucky was his stomach begged for substance. With an energy drink shoved into his pocket he pushed his plate down the line waiting for something to catch his eye. 

Turns out that thing was you. 

Turns out Bucky was not quite out of his funk.

He followed you, pushing his plate past what remained of the eggs. 

"Do you want to apologize for showing up at my door in the middle of the night? Or for accusing me of breaking into my own dorm? Maybe for pushing me?"

Your eyes widened with each word until the dryness stung and forced you to blink back the moisture. There was a smudged image in your mind of the same man before you, hair loose and eyes tired, not too different from how he looked right now. 

"All of it?" You offered up with a half shrug. 

Bucky didn't know what he expected, wasn't sure he expected anything. Maybe he just wanted to be angry and for you to feel guilty. 

But he remembered your fingers grazing the scars on his chest and arm, how you leaned into him as he walked you to your door, your nonsensical stories barely uttered through drunken giggles, and how much many times you muttered 'cute' when gazing at him with a dopey smile on your face. 

Silence stretched between you, Bucky's gaze far away with the night he luckily could remember. You moved down the bar, suddenly not as hungry as you were a few minutes ago. 

You reached the student cashier, who barely looked up as you reached into your pocket to fish out your id card.

"I got it."

Bucky leaned over to place his card into the cashier's awaiting hand. Who swiped it without hesitation before passing it back in Bucky's general direction. 

"Thanks."

You picked up your plate, waiting for Bucky to do the same.

"I really am sorry for whatever I did last night."

Bucky placed his plate down at an empty table then set his energy drink down before pulling out his chair. You could see Carol and Maria sitting a few tables away, but the couple was wrapped up in a conversation and hadn't noticed you.

"I assume I have you to thank for getting me home last night?"

Bucky nodded, a smile forming on his tired face.

"And your precious basket of fries. I'm surprised you're still hungry, I bought you three baskets."

A flush of heat rippled down your body, self-consciously you licked your bottom lip and felt a tenderness you didn't have before you started drinking last night. 

"Holy shit, I ate that many fries?"

"Nah, you wanted to bring one back to Carol."

You glanced at the woman in question. Catching her eye and watching her very obviously mouth 'that's him!'

Yeah, no shit Carol. Thanks. 

"So after I wake you up in the middle of the night, insult you, push you, and drag you out of your dorm you not only buy me fries but you buy my friend fries and my breakfast this morning."

Bucky shrugged, shoving a forkful of food into his mouth and staring intently at his plate. 

"Are you single?"

Bucky choked a little before he managed to swallow the large amount of food he had unwittingly dumped into his gob to keep from making an ass of himself. Turns out he could do that anyway. Coughing to clear his airway he let out a strangled answer.

"I am."

"So would it be weird if after all of that I asked you out?"

Bucky couldn't keep from smiling this time and to be safe he set down his fork and pushed away his plate. He had a date. He had the weirdest night of his college experience and now he had a date. Bad mood banished he felt an influx of endorphins urging him to run or jump or dance or do something equally stupid in public. 

"Yeah, yeah, I'd like that. But I'd like to take a nap first." He confessed with a chuckle.

"Oh my god, me too." You said wistfully, already imagining crawling back into bed, maybe with…

"First date idea: want to nap together?"

Bucky's heart swelled in his chest to the point he thought it might send him floating away. 

"Fuck yes! Can we go now?"

You nodded, letting out a surprised squeal when Bucky gasped your hand and pulled you up and out of the mess hall. You caught up with him so he was less tugging you along and more so holding your hand. 

"Maybe while we walk you can help me fill in the gaps of last night. So your name is Bucky and why were you in my room?"

Bucky groaned, albeit with no frustration. You were so fucking cute if you let him he was going to kiss you before you both passed out cuddled up in the small, thin dorm beds, ignoring the sounds of passersby and daylight streaming though the window.

And fuck anyone who knocks on the door.

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[xmxisxforxmaybe]

Hi! Would you mind doing something with Elliot, smutty moment while the reader is trying to work from home from his apartment borrows his sweatshirt but things just get carried away? Thank you in advance!!

Elliot’s eyes flicked to the clock on his computer screen for the hundredth time.

When you had shown up last night, close to tears because the power was going to be out all morning in your neighborhood and you had a career defining Skype meeting at exactly 8:15 am, Elliot listened carefully before pulling the most normal response he could from his repertoire.

“Uh, you can spend the night and just work from my place. If you want.”

Your exclamation was difficult to interpret until you looked into Elliot’s eyes and breathed a sigh of relief.

“Thank you! I was hoping you would say that. Well, that or that you would hack the city’s electric grid just for me!” you teased, not at all paying attention to the way Elliot balked at your response.

“That’s illegal,” he replied in his typical monotone.

You giggled and lightly smacked his upper arm.

“I’m teasing! You’re good with your computers, but I don’t think anyone is that good,” you said, your face still full of laughter. “Otherwise, you would have hacked the lottery already and at least moved uptown.”

Elliot smiled nervously, which wasn’t all that different from the way he usually smiled.

“You know I don’t care about money.”

“I do—otherwise I wouldn’t be here, panicking about missing this meeting tomorrow. If it goes well, I’ll shoot to the top of the list for a promotion.”

“Is there anything I can do to help?”

“You’re already doing more than enough. I appreciate this. Just leave some room in your calendar for a celebratory dinner. I’ll let ya get gussied up, darlin’ and I’ll take ya somewheres fancy,” you said in a silly accent, making Elliot smile his sweet, three-point grin.

When it was time for bed, he insisted on taking the couch. You equally insisted there was room for two in his bed until you saw the look of horror on his face, then backed off.

“You’re a great friend, El,” you called softly through the dark apartment before you snuggled deep into his bedding, enjoying being all wrapped up in his scent.

Elliot fell asleep with a soft smile on his face, no more than a slight upturn at the corners of his mouth.

* * * * *

When you woke up to an Elliot with a towel wrapped around his waist and water droplets sliding from his wet hair down the muscles of his back, digging through his closet, you bit your lip to stifle a gasp. It was clear he thought you were asleep and as he padded back into the bathroom to get dressed, you had to fight to ignore the tingling sensation between your thighs.

Elliot was attractive, and it was impossible not to wonder if there would ever be more to your relationship. With guys less complicated than him, there would have already been something more. But Elliot had only ever made it clear he was interested in your friendship. Never had he indicated there was anything more he wanted.

Ignoring the desire to slide your fingers discreetly between your legs, knowing it would be very, very wrong to get yourself off in your friend’s bed after he was kind enough to sacrifice his privacy for you, you looked at your phone and shot up, not realizing you had already hit the snooze button . . . twice.

You were so busy getting yourself presentable from the waist up in record time that you barely heard Elliot say goodbye as he left for work. Your eyes flicked in the direction of his voice and you gave him a nanosecond of a wave goodbye.

Elliot shook his head as he shut the door, then smiled as he locked you in.

All day, he thought about you sitting in his bed, the contents of your makeup bag everywhere, your hair pulled into a presentable ballerina bun, your bare legs that looked so soft and shiny in the dim light of his apartment poking out as you braced yourself on the floor, and he wondered what it would be like to touch you, to feel his fingertips ghost over your shin before sliding up—

“Night, Elliot,” Angela called before Ollie ushered her out of the door.

Elliot blinked and looked at the clock again.

5:04 pm.

He gathered up his things and scrambled out the door to catch the train home, deep in thought.  

Meanwhile, your meeting had gone perfectly, and you had gotten a lot of work done. The only hitch in your whole day was the fact that it was freezing in Elliot’s apartment. You fiddled with the thermostat and kicked at the radiator like you had seem him do, but nothing happened.

Eyeing his favorite piece of clothing warily, you figured that as long as you didn’t get it dirty or manage to tear a hole in it, he wouldn’t mind. You laughed a little as you nestled into it, realizing it was snug across the chest.

You thought back to Elliot’s towel-clad body and realized his lean muscles were deceiving; he really was a skinny thing.

Snuggled back under the covers, you had switched to working on your laptop and were just about to go through your last round of emails for the day when the keys sounded in Elliot’s door.

His eyes found you instantly, and you couldn’t tell if it was relief or disappointment that crossed his features.

That was until he took a few steps into the apartment and his brow furrowed.

“Is . . . is that my hoodie?”

“I hope you don’t mind. It’s absolutely freezing in here.”

Instead of moving toward the radiator, Elliot stepped closer to the bed where you were situated, giving no inclination that he had even heard you.

His eyes seemed to be memorizing you as they scanned over every inch of your existence until you cleared your throat and sat up, reaching for the zipper at the base of your throat.

“I’ll just, uh, put this back—”

“No,” Elliot growled in a tone you had never heard before and one that made you go completely still.

He blinked and stepped back, realizing he had done something wrong.

“Leave it on . . . I mean.”

Slowly, your hands fell away from the zipper. You shut your laptop without looking away from his intense gaze and moved it to a spot on the floor beside his mattress.

“Is there . . . anything . . . else you’d like me to do?” you said slowly, figuring now was as good of a time as any to test the new way Elliot was looking at you.

He licked his lips, and shrugged out of his backpack, letting it fall to the floor with a clunk.

“Stand up.”

You took a breath and pushed the blankets from your hips, giving you enough room to step out of the bed. You hadn’t changed out of your sleep shorts, not really seeing a reason to since your meeting was only from the waist up.

Elliot’s eyes ran slowly over your body, once. Twice.

You felt self-conscious and reached up to smooth your hair, then for lack of anything else to do with them, you slid your hands into the pockets of his hoodie, your right hand connecting with his lighter.

You watched as Elliot swallowed before taking a few more steps toward you, his eyes never leaving your face.

“Take . . . will you, I mean,” he said shaking his head and starting again. “Will you take off your shorts?”

Ohhh, your mind and body thought at the same time.  

“Uh huh,” you answered, pulling your hands from his hoodie pockets and working to untie the drawstring on your shorts before hooking your thumbs in at the hips and pulling them down. It hadn’t occurred to you to care what kind of underwear you were wearing, so now all you could do was pray they were cute.

Elliot’s hoodie stopped right below your hips and the slightest movement would let him know what they looked like, so you stayed still, waiting to see what he would do next.

He cocked his head to the side, slightly, as his eyes swept over your bare legs. When he looked up at you, he smirked.

“Looks good on you.”

Christ.

You crossed the room and grabbed him by the Allsafe badge he hadn’t even taken off yet and pulled him in for a kiss. He chuckled against your lips, probably from nerves, but that didn’t stop you and eventually he got the point, bringing his hands up to pull your hips against his.

You licked at his lower lip, and he parted his mouth in a sigh, letting you stick your tongue in before he started kissing you back. He was so warm, and everything about him felt so good.

When you felt his hands clutch at your ass, you made a noise of appreciation before closing the kiss to look him in the eye. It took him a moment to open his lids, and when he did, you admired the way the undiscernible color of his irises darkened.

“Does this mean you wanna be more than friends? I’m not really a one-off kinda gal.”

Elliot’s lips twitched up in a quick, shy smile.

“I’m not very good at this kind of thing.”

“My panties are soaked, El. From a fucking kiss. I think you’re pretty good at it.”

Elliot laughed and pressed his forehead to yours.

“No . . . I can do that part pretty okay. I mean the more than friends part.”

“Like a relationship?”

“Yeah. That’s not, uh, my forte.”

“No, shit,” you said laughing and moving back to look at him.

His eyes were the happiest you had ever seen them, so you pressed on.

“We can take this very, very slow.”

Elliot nodded, then his brows contracted.

“Uh, how slow . . . because . . .” he said, as he adjusted himself under his dress pants.

You narrowed your eyes and thought for a moment.

“What brought on this . . . shift?” you asked, reaching out to lightly run your fingers over his bulge.

Elliot swallowed, then explained, “Seeing you in my bed this morning. You’re pretty when you’re chaotic,” he said with a slight smile, and you laughed.

“Is that all?”

“I couldn’t stop . . . couldn’t stop thinking about your legs in those little shorts. I kept thinking about what it would feel like to touch them. They look so soft.”

“Let’s start with that, then,” you said, pulling him toward the bed. “Sit.”

He sat with a little bounce, then looked expectantly up at you.

Moving so that you were standing between his legs, you looked down and softly said, “Touch me.”

Elliot’s lips parted as his eyes immediately turned to your bare legs.

He reached both hands out and placed them on top of your thighs before moving them slightly up, then circling them around to the back. His fingertips were just below the cheeks of your ass, but he slid his hands back down—past your knees and down your calves before he shifted to the front and ran his hands all the way up to where he had begun.

You reached out to steady yourself on his shoulders, shocked that such a simple touch was leaving you literally weak in the knees.

“Is, uh . . . this okay,” Elliot asked, his fingertips flexing up and down on your thighs as he paused to check your facial expression.

“I think I need to lie down,” you said with a smile.

He smiled back, and for the first time today, you felt warm, despite the loss of your shorts and his blankets.

Maneuvering onto the bed, you laid back against his pillows, bent your knees for a little leverage, and parted your legs, inviting him to get close enough to keep touching you.

Elliot kicked off his shoes and climbed onto his knees, sitting back on his haunches as he wiggled into a position between your feet.

This time, he started there, stroking the tops of your feet before sliding up and down your legs, gently kneading your calf muscles and your thigh muscles when he felt inclined to change up the pressure of his touch.

“Elliot,” you breathed, your eyes closed and your body’s heat continuing to climb.

Elliot removed his hands from your legs and shifted his position so he could lay on top of you. He kissed you this time, his lips moving slowly, occasionally pressing harder or softer, in a perfect echo of the way he had been touching your legs. When his tongue dipped into your mouth, you bucked up into his hips, your center connecting with his hard cock.

He groaned, and it was the hottest sound you had ever heard.

“Can—” you panted from under his kiss. “Can I touch you?”

Elliot moved your hand directly to his dick and pressed hard, and normally, you would have laughed at his eagerness, but you were a mess beneath him.

Making quick work of his trouser fastenings, you pushed open his pants and slid your hand into his boxer-briefs and grasped his hard cock.

He groaned again, making you shiver with need.

“Can you touch me, too?” you all but begged.

Elliot immediately reached between your legs and pushed your panties to the side, fumbling through your wetness, clearly not expecting that you really meant it when you said you were soaked from that first kiss.

He did chuckle against your mouth this time, and you joined him.

“Toldja,” you said with a smirk as you started jerking him off.

Elliot’s hips were pushing into your hand, and yours were pushing into his. He slid around your pussy for a few seconds before making a beeline for your clit, your need to get off too evident to entertain any exploration tonight.

Elliot’s fingers were skilled, and he quickly brought you to an orgasm by rubbing sharp, consistent circles over your aching clit with his thumb. Your pumps of his cock faltered as you let yourself go, but then you quickly doubled your efforts, wanting nothing more than to watch his face while he came.

“Y/N,” Elliot hissed, as he bucked into your hand, his cum spilling over your palm and coating it quickly as you continued to stroke him through his orgasm.

His elbows shook and he rolled off of you, onto his back. He was breathing heavy and his cheeks were tinged pink, his lips still glossy and swollen from all of your kissing.

“Wow,” he breathed out.

“I agree.”

Elliot looked over at you and smiled, a genuine smile that lit up his eyes.

“I’m glad your power went out. And glad my heat broke today, too”

You turned your head up to the ceiling and laughed, tugging the zipper down on Elliot’s hoodie to let your too-hot body cool down.

“What a series of fortunate events,” you said, leaning over to press a kiss to his forehead.

[offtopicoverload]

The Forever Breakup

@bubblybabynailpolish 's post on Talia & Jake's friendship hcs got stuck in my head so I wrote a quick one-shot about Jake comforting Talia and MC if they broke up.

~3000 words

“We broke up!” Talia chokes through sobs, her eyes unleashing a waterfall of tears and mascara flowing in watery streams as she does.

Jake stands shell-shocked; a situation he was not prepared for - or even expected to encounter - has shown up at his door, pounding incessantly until he flung it open to find a distraught Talia on the other side.

Without hesitation, he pulls her inside, letting the door fall shut behind them and guides her to the sofa, where she collapses atop it. She wipes at her eyes hurriedly, but it does nothing to stop the onslaught of tears cascading down her cheeks. Jake drops beside her, pulling her into his embrace and soothingly rubbing her back.

She cries into his shoulder for what feels like an eternity to Jake, one that he never wants to experience again, until she quiets enough for Jake to ask the all-important question: “What happened?”

The sobs course through her body again, “I don’t know!” she croaks, trembling in her skin. That’s when Jake takes notice of her clothes: A loose-fitting tank top and shorts even though it’s dark, below freezing, and the middle of January. He detangles himself from her, much to her chagrin, and gathers a thick blanket from across the living room.

He takes a detour into the kitchen, grabbing bottles of water and chocolate biscuits to try and cheer her up when she’s feeling better. He sets them down on the coffee table when he returns, draping the blanket around her shoulders after.

He starts towards the thermostat to turn the heat up and warm her quicker, but her hand delicately grasps at his, drawing his attention down to her. He opens his mouth to explain himself when Talia whispers, her voice already hoarse and strained, “Can you stay? Please?”

Jake does what he’s asked out of concern, love, and fear for his best friend. Talia doesn’t ask him nicely, she doesn’t say ‘please’ or ‘thank you’ to him. They’re not formal or polite, they tease each other mercilessly and couldn’t care less about playing nice. But the plea in her voice triggered alarm bells in Jake’s mind, so he does as requested.

She shifts closer, nearly on top of his lap, curling up against him with her head on his chest and the blanket pulled tight around her. Jake doesn’t ask any questions, just combs his fingers through her hair in what he hopes is a comforting manner.

Talia spends what feels like hours shaking and crying under the blanket, Jake’s arms holding her tight until sleep eventually steals her, her shoulders relaxing and sobs quieting. Jake stays with her for a while longer, careful not to disrupt her.

When he’s confident she’s fast asleep, he slowly pulls away, letting her sink into his sofa cushions with a whimper. Jake stands, staring down at her with a broken heart; his best friend has shattered in front of him, and he has no idea how to fix her.

Then the rage starts to boil under his skin, lighting a fire inside him that he can’t extinguish. He grabs his jacket from beside the front door, carefully and quietly pulling the door open and closed before determinedly exiting the building. He pulls his keys from his pocket, unlocks his car, and starts driving in the direction of Talia and Lilac’s building, intent on getting answers and intent on seeing Lilac for who she really is, cruel and stupid for hurting Talia.

---

Jake stands outside Lilac and Talia’s - Lilac’s - flat, fist poised to knock on the door. He takes a few deep breaths, anger still simmering inside of him but lessened from the wildfire it was a short while ago. He raps his knuckles against the wood, jamming his hands in his pockets to keep from fidgeting or doing something stupid.

Lilac opens the door with red eyes and tear stains on her cheeks, “Um, hi,” she greets half-heartedly, Jake’s resolve crumbling in an instant.

He starts shifting awkwardly on his feet, transferring his weight from foot to foot and pulling his hands from his pockets to wring them before him. “So I heard, er - Talia -” he cuts himself off at the expression of pure pain on Lilac’s face.

Her gaze drops to the ground and her hand holding the door starts gripping it for dear life, her knuckles turning white. “Can we please not do this?” she sounds just as desperate as Talia did, and Jake swears he can hear his heart crack in his chest.

He takes a step closer, reaching to place a hand on Lilac’s shoulder, hoping to steady the slightly swaying woman. But she flinches away from his touch and he lets his hand fall back to his side. His brow furrows in confusion before he asks, “Do what?”

Lilac sniffles, a few tears threatening to spill from eyes from what Jake can tell with her head down, but she doesn’t bother to wipe them away. “The protective big brother thing. I know you just want to help Tals, but now is really not the time.”

He stands still for a moment, sorting through her words carefully. Then he reaches out again, his large hand carefully prying her smaller one from the door, and nudges her inside the flat.

She’s resistant, not moving unless Jake directly guides her, but she enters all the same. They stand beside the closed door for a moment, the silence deafening in Jake’s ears, but he doesn’t push. Doesn’t ask if she’s okay, her shaking hands saying otherwise.

Her hair curtains around her face, preventing Jake from seeing any expression but the haunted and heartbroken one from a few instants ago. Though he doubts there’s much more she’s feeling right now.

Jake glances around the room, finding an uncharacteristic mess. There’s crumpled tissues on the kitchen bar and sofa, a bottle of vodka on the coffee table and whiskey on the kitchen counter. A pile of blankets in the corner has been knocked over, crocheted blankets spread across the living room in heaps, and shattered glass gleams in the hallway.

“Why are you here? You gonna kick my arse for Tals?” Lilac’s jokes, drawing Jake’s gaze. Only there’s no humour, not to Jake at least. Not when there’s shards in the hall and bandaids on her hands and feet.

Jake swallows the lump in his throat at the state of Lilac and Talia, of their flat, of their relationship. “No,” he answers calmly. “Well… maybe that’s why I came. But now I’m worried.” He takes a step closer. Lilac shifts her weight. “What happened?” He takes another step. Lilac slumps at the question and crosses her arms protectively. One more step. Lilac runs her hands up and down her arms. “Talia couldn’t tell me.” One last step, just as Lilac’s shoulders begin to tremble.

Jake pulls her into his arms, letting her sob silently against him in a manner all too familiar, yet simultaneously brand new. He rubs her back until her knees buckle from under her, then he gently lowers her to the ground, her hands grasping at his jacket as tears soak the fabric. “What happened?” he repeats the question for the third time tonight.

Lilac’s shoulders stop heaving as they were, but still shake as she draws in uneven and difficult breaths. “We - we fought. About my family.” Jake grimaces, the small pieces he’s heard from the couple about Lilac’s childhood not triggering a positive reaction. “And I -” her voice cracks and she gasps, no longer able to form any words.

“Hey, it’s okay,” Jake shushes, “You don’t have to tell me. It’s personal, I get it,” he continues rubbing her back and offering more reassuring noises and sentiments.

“I said she wasn’t my family if they weren’t,” Lilac whispers the words into Jake’s jacket, her voice uneasy but somehow even, regardless of all the tears. “I didn’t mean to hurt her. I was just angry but I still did. And then she said that if she’s not my family then they sure as hell aren’t. And she’s probably right, it’s just hard. But then - then I told her she doesn’t know me or my life, she has no say. I acted like she’s not my life, Jake,” her voice is desperate again, her hands fisting in his coat.

“She is, she so is. She’s everything and she was just trying to help and I wouldn’t let her, but then she said she might as well leave and I said okay fine, even though I didn’t want her to, and then she left and I didn’t stop her, why didn’t I stop her?” she gasps, her breath hitching as she tries to catch it. “And I can’t fix it and now she’s gone and oh my God,” she heaves in a breath after her rambling with a splintered voice, tears trailing down her face again as she stares at Jake’s shirt.

Then her eyes fly up to his, meeting them for what feels like the first time tonight, “Is she okay?!” she grabs his forearms, tugging him forward and staring into his eyes desperately, searching for something.

He nods quickly, “She’s fine, she’s at my flat,” he rushes. Lilac lets go immediately, falling back to sit on her heels. “Well, she’s not okay but she’s safe. She was asleep when I left.” Lilac nods stiffly, her hands clenching at his words.

Jake sees a bandage on her hand and carefully reaches out, eager for a change in topic. He has a hard time with heartbreak, but cuts and bruises he can handle, “What happened to your hands?”

Lilac shakes her head, slowly pulling her hand back to herself, “I just - broke a glass. I’m fine,” she answers quietly.

“How’d you break it?” he asks, just as quiet, and lets his hand land on her shoulder, offering a reassuring squeeze.

“I threw it.” Her body’s still, voice hesitant while her eyes dig into her lap.

Jake’s taken aback by the answer, but does his best not to show his surprise at her admission to a violent outburst, “Why’d you throw it?”

“She left,” Lilac whispers, her only response for a long moment.

Then she swallows harshly, “I was drinking but it wasn’t enough. It wouldn’t stop and I hate myself and I was so mad and I threw it. And it hit the wall and it shattered, and I felt bad. She liked that glass and I broke it because I suck. So I tried to pick it up but I couldn’t find the broom because she always moves it ‘cause I knock it over, so I tried to use my hands but then it cut me and I kept stepping on it and I gave up and just drank some more. And it wasn’t enough, but I didn’t want to break any more of her glasses.”

Jake nods along, carefully reaching out and taking hold of her hand. He inspects her for any unbandaged cuts, and, when none are found, squeezes her hand, “Are you bleeding anywhere?”

She shakes her head, “Not anymore.”

He nods cautiously, glancing back around the room. He can still see the light bouncing off the shards scattered across the room, but most of the mess is out of his line of sight. He releases her hand and stands, gently patting her head as he passes.

He makes his way to the closet at the opening of a separate hallway, pulling it open to find a broom and dustpan inside. He’s seen Talia shove it in there countless times, always muttering about Lilac forgetting where it goes. He pulls it out and shuts the door, turning to the splintered glass on the hardwood. He meticulously sweeps it up, careful to get every last sparkling fragment.

When he’s done he walks to the kitchen, dumping the glass in the bin before returning the broom to the closet. Then he carefully scoops the tissues from the counter into the bin, repeating the exercise in the living room, too. He places the bottles of alcohol next to the others by the fridge, screwing the caps on tight. He tugs the fridge door open in search of water, finding a few bottles in the door.

His careful footsteps lead him back to a slumped Lilac that hasn’t moved since he left her, hands gripping one another tightly as she stares at the dark wood beneath her with dull eyes. He sits beside her, folding his legs in front of him, and offers an open bottle.

She only takes it when he prys her fingers apart and wraps them around it. She takes careful sips, never once meeting Jake’s concerned gaze, and he’s almost grateful for it. Almost grateful that he doesn’t have to see any more pain tonight.

His fingers start to skate along her spine, “Feeling any better?”

She laughs a horrid, broken, crumbling laugh, “No. No, I’m not, Jake, and I don’t -” her voice cracks before returning, barely audible, “I don’t know if I ever will at this point.”

He stops his skating, “Why not?”

“I broke it and I can’t fix it,” she sniffles.

“You can buy another glass,” he suggests hesitantly.

She chuckles that heart-shattering chuckle again, “I didn’t mean the glass. I meant us. I can’t go back, that’s forever.”

“Right,” he mumbles sheepishly. “Maybe you can though?” he tries an optimistic outlook, one that Lilac isn’t a fan of.

“No. She left because I made her. That makes it real and permanent and forever. It’s a Forever Breakup, Jake.”

Jake asks the dumbest question he can think of before he can even stop himself, “Do you want it to be forever?”

“Of course not,” she spits. “Of course not,” she repeats, more controlled now, “But I can’t fix it; she left.”

Jake leans into the optimism, the romantic inside of him getting the better of him, “Maybe if you try right now? Sooner rather than later, you know?”

There’s that crushing tremble of vocal cords again, but no words follow. Lilac just shrugs, defeated and hopeless, taking a chug from the water bottle she’s been slowly tracing with a nail.

A buzzing sounds from the kitchen, recognized by Jake as his own ringtone. He stumbles to his feet, rushing over to grab his phone from the counter. Talia’s contact is on display, the vibrations nearly sending the device crashing to the ground.

He answers, cautiously stepping into the far hallway and towards the washroom, “Hello?” he almost whispers.

“Where are you?” Talia’s voice sounds panicked, her breathing quick.

“I, um, I’m sorry, I came to your flat. I’m with Lilac.” Jake fidgets with his jacket’s zipper, nerves starting to overwhelm him.

“Oh.” The other line is quiet for a while, only staggered breathing flowing from the speaker. “Is - is she okay?”

Jake lets out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, “Not really, honestly. She broke a glass you liked and I think she feels really bad about.”

“Okay.” She’s reflective, voice turning distant. “Just a glass?”

“Yeah,” Jake confirms. Then he pauses, brow furrowing, “Does she usually break stuff?”

“No. Well, kinda. She dropped a mirror on accident once. A mug, too, but she got really worked up about it.”

Jake can't help the smile from splitting his lips at the ease of Talia’s voice, her typical attitude falling back into place. “Was it your mug?”

“Yeah. How’d you know?” Talia asks warily.

Jake grins wider, “No reason,” he attempts to breeze past it, maybe annoy her along the way.

“Whatever,” Talia huffs.

Jake chuckles a little, glancing back to Lilac, finding her legs now stretched before her as she leans forward, head still drooped. Jake’s laughter falls away at the sight.

He takes a deep breath before proposing a thought that’s rattled around his head since he found the flat in chaos, “Maybe you guys should talk. Work through things sooner than later?” he repeats that phrase again, hoping Talia might accept it more than Lilac.

“You think we could?” Talia’s cautiously hopeful on the other end of the line, a clattering sound that Jake can only hope isn’t the destruction of one of his own glasses.

“Yeah,” Jake answers softly, “I mean, I believe in you guys. One argument doesn’t have to wreck everything.”

Talia goes quiet again, leaving Jake to shift nervously. He hasn’t forgotten Lilac’s insistence that they’re over or Talia’s unabashed heartbreak, but he tries to push past the anxiety slowly flooding his chest, determined to fix this and prove they’re not as fragile as a glass. A sigh heaves in Jake’s ear, “Fine. I’ll come over, but you better stay. I need a place to crash if this doesn’t work.”

Jake smiles softly, “Deal. But only in the car. This is your business and I’m not getting any more involved,” he warns.

“Yeah, okay,” Talia concedes, the sound of keys jingling and a door shutting stretching Jake’s smile wider, his eyes glancing back to Lilac once more, this time finding her leaning against the kitchen counter.

---

A knock echoes through the flat. Lilac’s eyes fly up in a panic from the kitchen, finding Jake’s calm ones already staring back from the living room. He gives her a gentle smile and an encouraging nod.

Jake’s only taken a few steps towards the door when it slowly opens, Talia stepping in the room with her hair now tied back and one of Jake’s jackets - a leather one she bought him, actually - falling from her shoulders. She shuffles inside, keeping her eyes on Jake to avoid the grey ones staring in shock at her profile.

Jake smiles reassuringly at her too, carefully but quickly making his way to the door. He pats Talia’s shoulder as he steps outside and closes the door behind him. But he’s slow enough to hear a nervous ‘hi’ and a watery ‘hey.’

He walks out of the building and uses the flashlight on his phone to find his car, unlocking it with the click of his keys. Slipping into the driver’s seat with a sigh, he lets his head fall back to the headrest. His eyelids start to feel heavy, being awake in the late hours of the night a rare occasion for him.

His phone buzzes, jolting him awake. He scrambles to find it, pulling it from his jacket pocket and finding a large 2:43 on his lock screen. A text notification is just below it, with Talia’s name at the top.

He smiles down at the screen, sticking his key in the ignition and pulling out of the parking lot. He navigates back to his own flat in low light from street lamps, watching the few people still awake go about their late nights and early mornings.

When Jake slumps into his bed, yanking the covers up to his chin with a contented sigh a half hour later, he can’t help but smile at the two words that had greeted him on his phone screen, relishing in the abolishment of The Forever Breakup: ‘we’re okay.’