#god i might fall asleep on this bus

[phagodyke]

lol I overslept

only slept a few hours but getting pms hot flashes agh :(

[ghostaholics]

𝐏𝐈𝐂𝐓𝐔𝐑𝐄-𝐏𝐄𝐑𝐅𝐄𝐂𝐓

➸ PAIRING: Lieutenant Simon 'Ghost' Riley x gn!reader (aside from a single idiom whose origin uses masculine language/pronouns - every man for himself) ➸ SUMMARY: Against all odds, the Lieutenant accidentally falls asleep on your shoulder. Unfortunately, there are witnesses to the precarious situation (just your luck that it would be Gaz and Soap). ➸ WORD COUNT: 2k

𝐒𝐎𝐌𝐄 𝐒𝐀𝐆𝐄 𝐀𝐃𝐕𝐈𝐂𝐄: don't poke the bear.

Danger in your line of work typically consists of trying to walk away from a mission while still being left completely intact (i.e. the goal is to make it out alive, in one piece). You’ve survived a great number of ordeals: cornered into a shootout with a dwindling supply of ammo, tiptoed your way through a field of pressure-sensitive IEDs, dove towards probable death (with an awfully high probability of splattering onto hot, concrete hell like a bug on a windshield) because your helo was sent tail spinning courtesy of a perfectly-aimed RPG – and really, the list goes on.

It's been child’s play, in the grand scheme of things. An extensive catalogue of life-or-death scenarios accounts for your entire military career. And sure, this might be a bit of a stretch, but you'd wager that none of those instances thus far have been as high-stakes as the current predicament you’ve found yourself in.

Jesus-fucking-Christ. Why’d Ghost have to fall asleep on you?

𝐀 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐀𝐔𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍: avoid sitting next to him on the plane ride home. You've had to learn it the hard way.

And the kicker is that this whole thing could’ve been avoided; it didn’t have to be your problem. You could’ve sentenced any one of the other soldiers to your seat. Every man for himself, right? Get off scot-free, have a normal trip back to base with plenty of legroom so that you’re not cramped. Theoretically, it would've been beautiful – a passenger's paradise, the closest you could get to a first-class ticket.

But no.

Instead, play the Good Samaritan; extend your hand out with an act of benevolence. What’s the harm, right? So, you'd spared the poor guy, said you wouldn't mind switching places with him because he'd looked as white as a damn sheet at the idea of being crammed beside this behemoth of a lieutenant who's infamously every FNG's living nightmare.

Yeah, well hindsight is 20/20. Had you known what was going to happen, you would've had no reservations about throwing him under the bus. Sayonara, mate.

Law of the jungle, plain and simple.

To make matters worse, he is, in fact, exhibiting terrible flight etiquette. His head (which is dead weight and feels about as pleasant as a fucking bowling ball, mind you) has taken up every inch of real estate on your shoulder and is practically tucked into the curve of your neck; you’ll need to take a trip to the chiropractor’s after this – several, probably. The edge of his skull mask is digging into you. And, the cherry on top: get this – he’s man-spreading, so his left leg's trespassing into your own territory and brushing against your thigh. Utter lack of regard for personal space.

Incredible.

You’d still rather die than wake him up, though. You're not sure what'll happen if you do, but that's a risk you're not willing to take.

All things considered, an achy shoulder is a much better alternative than incurring the wrath of one angry Lieutenant. He's more subdued in this kind of context. To be completely honest, if you weren't already well-acquainted with him, you'd find it endearing.

From here, it's easy to see the simple rise and fall of his chest, steady and even. Slow inhale in, slow exhale out. He's at peace, a rhythmic lull that matches your own breathing. You can't quite put your finger on the exact moment he fell asleep. (He's got a habit of shutting his eyes and folding his arms over his chest when he isn't in the mood to converse with the other soldiers onboard. But God willing, he would never voluntarily loll his head onto your shoulder.) For what it's worth, he deserves the rest – never been one to do it this soundly as countless missions have taught you that he's usually a light sleeper. You remember him roughly prodding the toe of his boot at Soap's arm once when the Scot was conked out and his snores were a bit loud for Ghost's taste.

Rather odd then, that the Lieutenant even managed to allow himself to doze off like this. It’s too loud, too unsteady – the droning of the plane engine doesn't exactly make for good white noise and the turbulence outside is jostling the cabin around. Moreover, this puts him in a position of vulnerability, and he’s not the type to let his guard down so easily.

But somehow he did it with you beside him.

You try not to think about the implications of that.

𝐈𝐓 𝐆𝐄𝐓𝐒 𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐒𝐄, 𝐎𝐅 𝐂𝐎𝐔𝐑𝐒𝐄.

Because, Soap's just woken up from his nap, the first among the entire company of soldiers in the cabin still sleeping, excluding yourself. His seat's parallel to yours, straight across the walkway within direct line of sight, so he’s got an unobstructed view of you and Ghost. Soap sends a questioning glance in your direction, eyebrow quirked. A look that says, The hell's going on?

The level of your voice is down; it's at a conservative decibel to avoid rousing the others. Yet you convey your distress with the same amount of passion as if you were stuck in the middle of a losing firefight. "MacTavish, help."

Soap works with bombs for a living. Surely, he's capable of defusing situations too.

Alright the man’s a demolitions expert, but that’s semantics.

He blinks like he's trying to make sense of the situation. Though, it's pretty obvious what the problem is here. You're not sure why he’s got to take a moment and contemplate it. You need a solution, now. And he's moving at a snail's pace.

For a second, you think he might sympathize with your plight.

But then his mouth morphs into a shit-eating grin and when he nudges Gaz awake, you know right then and there that you're absolutely fucked.

More witnesses.

Great.

Because that’s just what you need, isn’t it?

Gaz drags a hand down his face. He pans over to his right to figure out why he’s been jolted awake so suddenly, and sees Soap who’s inexplicably, nauseatingly jovial before his eyes land on you.

Much like Soap’s original reaction, Gaz can’t help but offer a quizzical expression. The confusion is evident. His brows are drawn together because he knows that the L.t. wouldn't fall asleep on your shoulder.

Soap's shifting, sliding his hand into his pocket before pulling out his phone. He messes with it – a few taps here, a few swipes there. And then before you're registering what's happening, he's aiming it straight at you, like one of those mums getting a snapshot of their kids in matching jumpers during the holidays.

"Say cheese."

An indignant gasp leaves your mouth. "If you so much as—

"Soap, no. Don't do that." Gaz says from beside him, plucking the phone out of his hands. He tsks him with a click of his tongue. Stern disapproval in spades. The meaning is clear: it’s a big thumbs down from the Brit. He’s not endorsing this type of behavior. “Gone mad now, have you?” he asks in admonishment.

You release a sigh of relief. Finally, some moral support. He's reliable. Your faith in him is unshakable. Always could count on Gaz to get you out of—

"Have to shoot with a wide angle, see? Or else it'll look wonky," he corrects, flipping the phone horizontally before handing it back to Soap.

"Aye, thanks mate.”

Gaz's smile isn't as excessive as Soap's but the smirk gracing his face tells you he's relishing in your misery all the same.

Fucking traitor.

"Knobheads—"

They’d risk their own hides to save you from certain death. You've seen it in Cairo, Valencia, and Seoul. Good men. Good hearts in the right place as well. However, they're also the type to embarrass you at every opportunity – public humiliation being somewhere on that roster as well. And for that, you want to strangle them.

"Rude,” Soap comments pointedly.

"Bite me, MacTavish."

"Just wake him up if it's bothering you," Gaz supplies unhelpfully.

"If you were in my shoes, would you do it?"

"'Course, not," he snorts. "I don’t have a death wish.”

“Well, I also prefer my head on my shoulders, thank you very much," you whisper furiously, nearly hissing at him.

And Soap is admiring his handiwork, when he coos, “Aw, the two o' you make quite the pair." He briefly twists the screen so that you can catch a glimpse of it, and even from this distance, you can confirm that he's captured the shot. Annoyingly well, to add insult to injury. Angle? Spot-on. Lighting? Brilliant. It's interesting, has character. Black and white photography. He's managed to make a stunning composition and your upper lip is curling up into a sneer of disgust at his artistic eye. How infuriating.

"I'll send this to the Cap. He’ll get a kick outta it."

"Sod off."

"He'll appreciate bein' included."

Gaz matches the energy with an equally gleeful smile, now delighted by the idea. “Hey, and the L.t. he looks—”

“—cute," Soap has the audacity to finish for him.

What.

There are many words that you’d use to describe Ghost.

Cutthroat, maybe. Imposing. Glacial. Taciturn. A stringent set of ideals that makes him the perfect soldier: disciplined, honed, fierce. Intimidating, if he's not fighting on your side – someone you'd much rather have on your team than against, unless you fancied death. He can be a stone-cold terror on occasion. The man’s been penned as a walking horror story by those in the military. Given his iron-hearted demeanor, you'd be hard-pressed to disagree with that statement; there's not much room to call his steel-encased resolve into question.

So, yeah. Above all else, he's certainly not cute.

Your eyes narrow at them. "Congratulations, the both of you have officially made the top of my shitlist."

Soap, indifferent to your crisis, asks, "Want a copy for your wallpaper?"

There's another heated remark waiting on the tip of your tongue, because there's no way in hell that you would and you're ready to tell him off, about to give him an earful.

But somebody else beats you to it.

“Wipe that picture, or I’ll wring your bloody necks.”

Ice surges through your veins. Goosebumps break out across your skin. Because that voice belongs to one person. Oh, Christ. Never in a million years would you want to be on the receiving end of it.

There's anxiety warping in your chest. You're scared stiff, paralyzed with fear in a way that implores you to remain stock-still. The coarse fabric of your trousers bunches underneath your palms as you try not to freak out. This isn't your fault. None of it is.

And here's the worst part: Ghost hasn't lifted his head from your shoulder yet.

But Soap's unfazed. He blinks a couple of times, seems like he's weighing his options – as if there's something else he could choose besides following his lieutenant's command – yeah, right. He wises up, settling for a simple answer in the end. "Alright, Ghost." His smile makes a reappearance, sweet and well-meaning. Troublemaker. "Any chance you'd like a copy before I do away with it?"

"What kind of fuckin' question is that, Johnny?" he grumbles. "Obviously."

𝐁𝐎𝐍𝐔𝐒 𝐒𝐂𝐄𝐍𝐄:

"I take it you don't think I'm cute then. Have I got that right?"

"I'm sorry... mind repeating that again, sir?"

"You didn't have anything to say about Soap's comment."

"I have a feeling that whatever I answer will get my arse handed to me, L.t."

He's smiling in response – like sunshine trapped behind clouds. Despite it being obscured by the mask, you can see his eyes crinkling at the corners, which makes the black charcoal that's lining them begin to crease a bit. "Permission to speak freely, Sergeant. You have the floor."

Your mouth parts in surprise. Well, then. Maybe you stand corrected. And so, you appraise him momentarily, giving it some serious thought. There's more to Ghost than you give him credit for. He's terse and rough around the edges, but respected for a reason. Admirable. Someone you think highly of and has deserved your approval. The mask undeniably provides an air of intrigue. “I suppose you can be,” you start off, gradually warming up to him being more approachable. “When you’re not terrorizing the new recruits, that is.”

[keeira2]

I’LL ALWAYS LOVE YOU

stalkerexbf!rafe x fem!reader

masterlist

summary: life takes a weird turn when your introduced with an anonymous stalker. but everything changes when he breaks into your house and your met with him face to face..

warnings: crazy!rafe, pantie stealing?, creepy!rafe, rafe threatens you with a gun, sort of cnc, heavy on the smut, CNC, spit kink, degrading kink, tied up reader, soft!rafe at the end? MDNI 18+!! if i miss any pls lmk

a/n: this is kinda long whoops, not rlly proof read so ignore any mistakes pls. it’s also rlly kinky js giving everyone a heads up. hope you guys like it :3

after another long shift at the pelican yacht club, you’re finally home. throwing your keys onto the kitchen bench nd undress for ur shower. which was what you desperately needed after serving snobby kooks for the past six hours. you let the hot water fall down your body. scrubbing ur scalp and body clean of any grime from the day.

wrapped in ur towel, you walk to ur bedroom to get dressed. grabbing a baggy tee nd a lacy thong. as ur going thru ur lingerie drawer, you notice ur favourite pair of black panties missing? which was weird because you remember folding them nd placing them in there the night before.

you brush past it, getting dressed nd collapsing onto the bed to watch murder documentaries. after less than half the episode, you find urself drifting into a deep sleep.

days, even weeks go by, your daily routine unphased. another closing shift at work, you grab ur belongings nd start to walk home. usually you’d catch the bus, but when you close it’s already 10pm nd there aren’t any buses running this late to the cut. so you walk home, wrapped in ur fur hoodie trying to ignore the cold air.

it’s only a 10 minute walk to get home, which has never been a problem especially bc you know most ppl in the cut. but this time you feel a burning gaze shooting right thru you.

you shiver, partly because it’s cold but mostly bc you have an overbearing feeling that ur being watched. you hear a rustling in the bushes behind you, which could’ve been the wind but you were NOT taking any chances. so you start to run, not looking back. you don’t stop until you get home, quickly unlocking the door nd slamming it closed behind you.

you make sure to lock all the doors and windows before hopping in the shower, which helped you shake the creepy feeling off of you. you heat up some popcorn nd snuggle under your covers.

ur trying to pick a movie to watch, occasionally leaning over to grab a handful of popcorn you hear your phone ‘ding!’. lazily reaching over to grab and check it, you freeze when ur gaze lands on the message.

unknown number: you don’t need to run away from me, doll. was js making sure you got home safe ;)

someone was following you. oh my god. you sat still for a moment, still in shock. how did they get your number? how long have they been following you? you basically led them to your home, do they know where you live now?

millions of thoughts racing through ur head, you couldn’t help but text back, your hands shaking over the letters.

you: who are you???? please leave me alone.

before you can even shut ur phone off, another ‘ding!’ catches your attention like he was waiting for your response.

unknown number: you’ll find out who i am soon enough. i’m just looking after you, don’t be scared, doll.

what does he mean i’ll found out soon enough? is he gonna come after me? did he follow me home? you’re literally shaking in fear now, ur mind racing with different possibilities.

you: please. leave me alone.

you see he’s typing, but stops. he doesn’t text you for the rest of the night, maybe he listened and he’s actually gonna leave you alone. you were just hoping that maybe it was a prank from ur friends. anything except the fact that you might actually have a stalker.

you struggle to fall asleep that night. tossing and turning in your bed, desperately trying to calm yourself. ‘the doors are locked, nobody can get in. ur okay’ you reassure yourself.

a few days go by and you start to notice more panties going missing. what the fuck? you’re left with only a few pairs now, and there’s no way you’ve just misplaced them. the realisation dawns on you. what if he’s been here. has he been in ur house??

you try calming yourself down. ensuring every window nd door is locked. sitting back down ur cozy bed, u slip under the covers and bring ur knees up to your chest in a fetal position. your breathing is heavy while u hold ur head in ur hands. you quietly sob. ur so scared. you’ve only been living by yourself for 6 months and you were scared then. why me??

you didn’t even realise how much time had gone by or when you’d gotten tired. but you rub your closed eyes, letting out a big yawn and stretching your arms out. but when you finally open them, you freeze.

a man is standing in ur room, looking right at you. you can’t muster up the courage to say anything so you just stare back completely still, unable to see his face.

“hey doll, you miss me?” a familiar voice asks, stepping closer.

your mouth falls agape. no. no. no. no. no. this cannot be happening. you’d ended things with him MONTHS ago after he started acting out, getting angry all the time, threatening to hurt you and being literally insane. you blink ur tears away, one managing to roll down ur cheek.

“r-rafe..?” you whisper, if the house wasn’t completely silent he wouldn’t have been able to hear you.

“you’re so pretty when ur sleeping, baby.” taking a step closer to you now. you try to move backwards but ur back already pressed against the bed frame. u see him reach behind him, pulling what looks like a gun out of his back pocket.

“n-no, no please.. what are you doing?” you ask shakily, trying to back away further away from him to the other side of the bed.

he sighs, “i don’t wanna have to use this, doll,” shaking the gun in his hand to refer to it,” just listen to what i say and don’t give me a reason to hurt you, alright?”

you tremble with fear, “please, rafe, please leave.. i wont tell anyone. just please” you plead with him. praying that he’ll just go and never come back, even tho you know deep down that’s not gonna happen.

“m’sorry, no can do,” taking another step foward until he’s standing over you, ”missed you so much, can’t leave now.”

his words made your heart flutter, you couldn’t help it. you couldn’t deny the way ur thighs clenched together at the thought of him putting in all this effort just to see you. why are you like this oh my god?? no. u want him to leave. you need him to leave.

after a second of hesitation you finally ask “..what do you want, rafe?” wiping a tear from ur face.

he sits down across from you on the bed, holding the gun up to face you. ‘he’s only doing this to scare you.. he would never actually hurt you’ you try convincing yourself.

“aw come on, don’t be like that, angel” his hand grazing ur knee, before placing his large hand inbetween them to gently pull ur legs apart, “i bet ur so wet right now, so desperate f’me.” he groans nd u notice the massive buldge in his jeans.

u shake ur head, “no, rafe,” you sob again, “please go.” he brings the hand that’s holding the gun to your face, pushing the hair out of ur face with it, “sh sh, it’s okay.. ur okay. save the tears for when i’m done with you, alright?”

you don’t know if that’s reassurance or a threat but either way you feel your pussy getting wetter, his hand travelling lower until its resting on ur plush thigh.

“i need you to stay still, baby, or ur gonna get hurt.” he warns sternly before standing up and reaching for his back pocket again, pulling out a thick rope. u already know how this is gonna go.

he snatches both ur hands nd goes to tie them to the headboard. u squirm nd use ur trembling body to try and push him off, he doesn’t budge until u slap his face. his face turning back to you slowly, a hand against his jaw with a smirk.

“what did i just say? hm? ur gonna regret that, doll, makin me do things i rlly didn’t wanna do.” with a harsh grip he snatches ur wrists again, ur body squirming trying to release your arms but to no avail. when ur wrists are tied down, you whince, the pressure making you sore.

he reaches down to grip ur face and pulls you in to a desperate, hungry kiss. he hovers over you, pulling ur legs apart with his body. his tongue invading your mouth. as much as you hated this, you couldn’t help but kiss him back.

when he finally pulls away he wastes no time in ripping off ur shirt, “no bra, hm? knew you wanted this.” he groans and attaches his lips to ur tits, licking and sucking at ur nipples causing you to let out a series of faint moans.

rafe pulls away, snatching ur knees to spread your legs apart wide. eyeing you down, admiring the wet patch he’s created through ur panties. he lays on his stomach infront of you, giving ur thighs open mouth kisses.

“r-rafe, please..hmmpf” u whine. u don’t know if ur asking him to stop or if u want him to do more. ur so ashamed.

“please what, doll? use ur words cmon.” he teases ur swollen clit with his thumb, over the fabric of ur soaked panties.

when u don’t respond, his big hand slaps your pussy, causing you to let out a scream. “i said use ur fucking words” he raises his voice at you.

“p-please, eat me out,” u whimper when he rubs circles over ur clit, “need you.” that was enough to please him. so he tugs ur panties off, sliding them off ur legs and his tongue was licking a long stripe thru ur folds. “u taste so good, baby” he mumbles into you. without any warning, he inserts two fingers and thrusts mercilessly, now sucking ur puffy clit.

you let out a scream, or a moan, you didn’t know what it was but he makes you feel so so good. almost made you forget how he’s been breaking into your house and stalking you.

u tug to wrap your hands in his hair but remember ur wrists are tightly bound. he’s holding u down with one hand and fucking you with the other.

you feel yourself getting close, clenching around his fingers. u start to squirm, lifting your hips so he can get deeper but he detaches his mouth from ur clit and pulls out his drenched fingers.

“..why’d you stop?” you whimper, desperate for your release.

“youll cum when i say you can.” your eyes pleading with him but he shakes his head. “now your gonna take my cock like the filthy slut you are.” reaching for his belt nd yanking his jeans nd boxers off.

he starts teasing your folds with his cock, making you squirm even more. you know this is wrong. he’s insane. but you can’t help but enjoy his torment.

suddenly he roughly thrusts into you, without letting you adjust, pounding into you ruthlessly. the sounds of your skins clapping, his heavy grunts and your screams echo the room.

your legs unconsciously wrap around his waist. his hands grip onto your hips tightly, surely leaving bruises for you in the morning. “r-rafe, fuck, please sto-“ you screech when he goes in deeper. “fucking take it, quit complaining.” he yells before taking your tit in one hand, teasing your nipple inbetween his fingers.

he knew your body so well. you hated it. if this was anybody else you wouldn’t have been enjoying it like you are now. but it’s rafe. even when he was acting crazy in your relationship, he always made sure you knew how much he loved and cared for you. how he would do anything for you.

you can feel your release finally coming. you clench around his cock, silently begging he’ll let you cum. but to no avail, he pulls out. he unwraps your legs and sits over your chest. “open.” when you don’t comply he grabs your jaw and sticks his thumb into your mouth, “i said fucking open.” the second your lips start to part, he pushes his dick into your mouth, thrusting relentlessly making you gag around him. tears start to well in your eyes and when you try to pull your head away he latches his hand in your hair to stop you from moving. finally releasing you when you feel his cock twitch, followed by a hot flow of cum invading your throat.

he grabs onto your jaw again, giving you three light slaps to you cheek and spits in your mouth. “fucking swallow it,” hesitantly you do, opening your mouth back up and sticking out your tounge to show him.

he smirks, content with the sight in front of him. your hair disheveled, hot tears covering your cheeks and that look in your eyes, which you always had when you were around him. his sweet angel. he loved ruining you.

“rafey.. can i cum now, please? i’ve been a good girl.” you beg. the nickname making him flustered, which fortunately for him you don’t notice in the dark room.

“d’you think you deserve it?” he asks teasing to which you nod eagerly.

“please.” all your self respect and pride out the window now because you were so cockdrunk on ur psycho ex boyfriend you couldn’t think properly.

he shuffles back, spreading your legs apart again and moves his hand towards where you need him most. he begins toying with ur swollen clit before thrusting back into you. this time slower but just as deep.

you don’t hold back your moans, he makes you feel so good. but your cockdrunk haze interrupted when he started to speak again. “tell me you love me.” he groans, his eyes locking on yours. his thrusts hitting deeper, picking up the pace.

you were immediately taken aback. ofcourse you loved him, it’s rafe. but he’s crazy, god, he broke into your house and threatened you with a gun. he noticed your hesitation and starting rubbing your clit, almost sending you over the edge.

“y-yes, fuck, rafe i love you! hmmpf” you scream, your pussy clenching around him once again, his hand tightly gripping your throat. his thrusts brutal, pounding into you. you tug at the ropes bouncing your wrists when you feel pure bliss, your mind hazed and your pussy aching. his thrusts not stopping to ride out your high. you let out a loud, shaky moan/scream. the neighbours probably thought you were getting murdered. your orgasm leaves you limp, only ur legs shaking when he pulls out, yanking his boxers and pants back up.

what you’ve just done dawns over you. you’re so ashamed. you actually begged him to keep going. your tears reappear, trying to be as quiet as possible so rafe doesn’t notice and yell at you again. you wanted to kick him out, call the police and never see him again. the other part of you wanted him to hold you in his arms while you cry, and beg him never to leave your side. but right now, rafe decides for you.

he leans over to give you a sweet peck on the lips and reaches for your bound wrists. “are you gonna be good?” he whispers, eyes scanning your face for any lies. “i’ll be good, rafe. promise.” and you meant it, even tho you were choking back sobs of humiliation, you still meant it.

he untied the rope, your wrists aching and bruises already appearing. he leaves pecks all over the markings, which is his way of saying he’s sorry for hurting you. “i love you so much, y/n” he confesses, straightening back up to face you again. without even thinking, you lean forward, taking his jaw in your hands and you kiss him.

the kiss is beautiful, it wasn’t rushed or heated. it was slow and meaningful. when you finally pull away, you avoid his gaze. “i love you, rafey,” his eyes widen, he didn’t think you’d actually say it back. he knew you said it before, not because you meant it but because he basically forced you. but you did mean it. you never had stopped loving him, you were just tired of his lack of sanity.

he stands up and walks out of your room, leaving you on the bed alone without saying a word. a minute goes by, you felt so dirty and disgusting now. but before any worse thoughts could swarm your head, you hear footsteps heading towards your room. rafe is back, and hes holding a towel. oh, how you missed him.

he taps your thigh, signalling you to spread your legs and cleans up the mess you’d both made. discarding the towel, he crawls onto your bed and slides under the covers with you. “i’m really sorry, baby. i wasn’t trying to scare you. i just- i didn’t know what else to do.” his excuse was sloppy (and insane) but you still forgave him. you knew he was messed up, but so were you. in his head, he was just trying to show you how much he loved you, even tho to any normal person it’s a really creepy way to get someone back, you understood enough to let him hold you.

his arms wrapped around your waist, ur head snuggled in the warmth of his neck. “i know, rafe.. i’ll always love you.” you whispered before drifting to a heavy sleep in the comfort of his arms.

[draftdweller]

Chilled to the bone

More Logan x Reader fluff

Y/N and Logan mistakenly book the same cabin for a winter getaway, and their trip turns them into a very close pair after they're snowed in.

Warnings: Fluff, Light kissing, Grumpy!Reader, a hint of angst if you squint hard enough, tiny amount of sexual behaviors, MDNI

A break from all the chaos, A week by yourself in a cozy cabin, that was all that was on your mind as you packed your bags. You had booked this trip weeks ago after a particularly rough mission where nothing had gone according to plan.

Little did you know that upon your arrival, you wouldn't be by yourself at the cabin. Logan Had the same idea of getting away for a little while, and it seemed that the listing for the cabin on that week had not been changed. When you arrived and set your bags down, you noticed his belongings on the bed and your jaw drops to the floor. Everyone in the mansion knew your feelings for the man, how indifferent you were to him when everyone could see the two of you.

They had also noticed the look you gave him when you thought no one was around. The pining, longing glances that seemed to linger a bit too long until he looked at you. He would barely acknowledge you most days, seemingly uncaring. But you knew he had a past, and whatever that past was, it made him hard on the outer edges. Jagged even, just enough to cut deeply if you got too close.

When you had seen his belongings on the bed, you toed closer to the bathroom door, that was shut, giving a shy knock, and shortly after, the door swinging open. He looked just as surprised as you when he saw you standing there. His brows knit together, and he tilted his head. "Y/N, what on god's earth are you doing here?"

"I booked this place weeks ago, logan. The question is, why are you here?" Your words come out accusingly and curt, not actually caring why he was there, but more irritated that you weren't going to be alone after all it seemed.

"I booked here, almost three weeks ago, bub. Didn't realize I wasn't going to be alone." You shook your head and huffed, turning on your heel to walk away, you could hear the snowstorm outside picking up and the wind howling. You were almost tempted to leave, and he noticed it too. "Don't go out in that, I hear it's only supposed to get worse through the night." His voice was gruff, and his back turned to you.

"Well, I'm not sharing a bed with you logan." "Never said you have to. I can take the couch. If it picks up anymore, it could be dangerous to go anywhere." He was so nonchalant about the entire thing; it only irritated you further. You wanted a week away from him, from everyone. But from him mostly, so you could get over this stupid crush you seemed to have on him. "Well. Get your things off the bed. I might as well sleep then" As you spoke you noticed him already moving to do so, and as soon as his stuff was off the bed, you laid down, nestling under the blanket and closing your eyes before drifting off to a dreamless slumber.

By the time you woke up, it wasn't even morning, but you were laying there shivering. It was warm in here when you got here. You got up, and wrapped yourself in the comforter, walking to the living room area, and seeing a fire going in the fireplace, logan tending to it with candles lit around him. "Why is it so goddamned cold in here, logan?" "Lost power and heat. Come sit by the fire, I'll make some hot chocolate or something over it"

You rolled your eyes as you walked over to the window and looked outside. You couldn't see through the flurry of snow how bad it was, but you eventually turned back to face him and walked over to the fireplace, sitting on the floor in front of it. You didn't want the hot chocolate, but you took a pillow off the couch and laid in front of the fire, trying to warm your bones. You couldn't help the shivering, but eventually being by the fire warmed you enough you could fall back asleep.

By the time the morning came, the heat was still out, but the power was at least on now. The wind was still howling outside, but from the kitchenette you could smell bacon and eggs being cooked. Your stomach growled at the smell, and you got up, walking to the kitchen and rubbing your face with a groan.

"Well good morning to you too, sunshine" Logan drawled out, you didn't understand how he wasn't freezing his ass off right now, and didn't say anything. You just sat at the table, which had been set for two, and had a cup of coffee prepared just the way you liked it. You were never a morning person, and everyone knew it.

He looked over at you, sleep addled face, messy hair and wrapped in the blanket and chuckled. He knew you had to be cold, because you were still sitting there shivering, even as you drank the hot coffee. He set a plate down in front of you "Dig in. I know you like bacon, but I wasn't sure how you liked your eggs, so I scrambled them" "Scrambled works just fine, Logan." So does fertilized, you thought to yourself and quickly shook your head. Staying here with him was definitely not helping your crush, or the way you wanted to feel wrapped in his arms. You quickly dug into the food, and groaned at how good it was. He was a good cook to say the least. But you still needed to find another cabin to stay at, you didn't want to deal with the fact that every move around him made you just want to hide. You had a feeling he could sense your feelings for him but didn't say anything.

You felt his eyes on you while you ate, and as soon as you finished you got up and dug through your bag, and grabbed the warmest of your outfits. You walked into the bathroom and changed, before walking to the front door and opening it, attempting to leave. As soon as the door opened, you saw snow piled up over half the height of the door. You looked back to see Logan standing there with a glass of amber liquid and then turned your attention back to the door. You were stuck here with him, at least until the doorway was cleared. You sighed and looked at him "No heat, and no chance of me finding another place to enjoy the small vacation."

His lips quirk up slightly as you shut the door and walk back towards the couch, but before you could make it, he grabs your wrist gently. He pulled you to him, turning to cage you against the wall with his arms "Well, it's a good thing I enjoy your company then, isn't it, bub?" His voice was low and sultry as he spoke, and your eyes went wide "Logan, what, what are you doing?" You were tripping over your words as they came out, fast and rambling. "C'mon bub, you think I never caught you looking at me. You were never quick enough to look away before I caught it." Your cheeks were hot to the point you knew your entire face was red. Your eyes were gazing into his, and he leaned closer, your lips parting as your breath caught in your throat. This had to be a dream, there was no way he was doing this.

As if it couldn't be any more like a dream. He leaned in and kissed you. His hand coming up to catch your jaw in his fingers. You let all restraint go and kissed him back. You had to admit, he was a great kisser, his lips soft, tongue gently exploring your mouth. You could taste the alcohol on his breath. It was too soon when he pulled away and looked at you with hooded lids, his eyes glimmering softly and his thumb stroking your chin softly.

"I wanted to have a chance before you found someone to settle in with" You spoke softly and looked up at him, your eyes shining with unshed tears, fearing you'd never be enough for him.

"Hey, Y/N. I never wanted to settle in with anyone, as much as I did you. But I don't ever want to hurt you, and I know I'm more than capable of doing so."

A/N: This is going to be the beginning of a small series, let me know what you want in the next part!

[sorrowfulrosebud]

B- bu- bud... idk if requests are open but....

B- be- bear bakugou who loves climbing trees but hates the winter cold on his paws. So he starts climbing things in the house😔. Just you scolding him while he's sitting snug on top the bookshelf because he left claw marks and splintered the wood...

BAHAHAHA MUG I LOVE THIS

“Katsuki.”

“Fuck off.”

“Katsuki!”

“Fuck off!”

“Get down from there now!” You scolded your hybrid as he glowered at you from the top of the bookshelf.

“Fucking make me, human!” He sneered, claws digging deeper into the wood, splintering the precious heirloom.

“Katsuki please, you’re damaging the bookshelf!” You pleaded. Katsuki huffed whilst continuing to glower.

“No. I like it up here. Now piss off!” He demanded, leaning forward to get his point across. The bookshelf was beginning to tip slightly, causing you to worry.

“What happened to your other climbing equipment?! Why does my poor bookcase have to suffer?!” You whined, cringing at the groaning of the bookcase. Huffing, you look at your companion.

“Okay. What would it take for you to come down?” You tried from a different perspective. Katsuki stared at you.

“Salmon bowl. But, I eat it up here. Then I’ll come down,” he said, positioning himself to get comfortable.

“Oh god fucking damnit Suki, fine! I’ll make your damned fucking bowl of salmon and fucking rice,” you grumble under your breath, muttering about how you hate winter as much as he does. Katsuki triumphantly smirks before falling asleep to the sounds of you grunting in the kitchen.

“Oi, wake up you stinky brat,” you grumble, pinging the chopsticks against the bowl as Katsuki’s eyes cracked open. His mouth delved into an O shape as he yawned, pointy toofs on show.

He reminded you of a kitten; so sleepy in the winter and hibernating anywhere he can. He could barely keep his eyes open during winter, so you were surprised that he managed to even climb up the damn bookcase.

“Mmmm, don’ wanna wake uuuuuuup,” he sleepily mumbled, getting comfy again.

“Oh no you little bastard, I made you the bowl so you would get off my bookcase. You promised, so get your lazy ass up and eat,” you scolded firmly, ready to throw the bowl at him when he sticks his middle finger up. You huff before smirking; time to bring out the big guns.

“Fine then. No more kisses for a week,” you said, going to leave. Katsuki’s head snapped to you.

“What?” He asked, sleepiness depleting.

“Yup, and no ear rubs whilst you’re napping too,” you list off, about to leave the living room when you hear conflicted angry grunts.

“Ugghghh fine, shitty mate. But, I get to lay on your lap and you have to feed me. Deal?” He answered cheekily, sleepy smirk slapped on his face.

You sigh.

“Deal.”

“Was this really so hard, sweetie?” You murmur to him softly, petting your sleepy bear boy after he demolished his bowl of salmon and rice. Katsuki cracked an eye open.

“Mhm, totally. Natural instincts an’ shit, plus I like being up in high places. Is too cold to do it outside,” he mutters, head nestling into your tummy. Your fingers trail softly over his cute little brown ears, giggling when you see his pompom tail wiggle.

“Stop moving, human. Your laughing is disrupting my sleep,” he mumbles, nosing your tummy as you wrap a blanket around him.

“Sorry, my love. Well we can look into constructing something a bit more practical for you to climb until it’s not as cold outside. I think the attic might be a cool place for some more climbing gear, plus the alcoves could be padded out for your naps,” you ramble quietly, gentle tracing of his ears never ceasing until you hear the quiet rumbly snores of your mate.

You stop talking, wrapped the blanket higher around his neck and kissed the space between his fluffy ears.

“Goodnight, my bratty cub.”

[choidaisy]

SEND NUDES?

Genre: fluff, smau

Perhaps by sheer coincidence, I woke up in the middle of the night, around three thirty, and felt the need to get some water.

I went down to the kitchen; usually, I don't get thirsty during the night. While sipping slowly, I decided to check what was new on my phone.

That's when I got a big shock!

Two minutes ago, I received an Instagram notification that said "sound_of_coups requested to follow." I laughed! It had to be a fake profile.

I decided to open the profile, and there it was, the verification badge—it was the real S.COUPS profile!!!

My heart started beating so fast that it almost hurt. I needed some time to compose myself and organize my thoughts.

He never followed any anonymous accounts, so why would he follow me? Should I accept right away, or would it be better to let him know first? What if he accidentally sent the request?

Minutes and more minutes passed, and I didn't get a response, as expected. Sleep eluded me as well.

Not one to miss an opportunity, I decided to screenshot the screen to flaunt it in the faces of my Carat friends and make them die of envy. I did it while laughing at my own foolishness. I couldn't stop staring at that screen; it felt like a dream.

I went back to bed, and with much effort, I managed to fall asleep again. When I woke up, the first thing I did was check for any response, but there was nothing there.

I got up frustrated, knowing he wouldn't reply. In college, during the break, I decided to show some friends the notification. Another shock awaited me. The request was no longer there. They didn't believe my words, let alone the screenshot.

The punishment for trying to show off came too quickly.

On the way back home, I decided to try one more time.

I knew the response wouldn't come, as always, so I allowed myself to daydream.

It was just as I left the subway and caught the bus that would take me home that my phone vibrated. I thought it might be a friend or my parents asking if I was on my way, but it wasn't.

I felt like my heart was about to stop; I wanted to scream and run from one end of that bus to the other. My God, what embarrassment! Why did I send that message? Why did he see this one specifically? What should I reply? What should I reply? Thinkkkk!

I didn't know what to reply; I couldn't stop nervously laughing. It couldn't be possible that he took it seriously. The whole day went by, and there was no sign of him coming back. I was starting to get curious.

I lay down to sleep after checking my phone one last time. At the same time as the day before, I heard my phone ring. The screen was lit up, a notification had just arrived.

OH MY GOD ??? I jumped out of bed to sit down, "wait, you're not going to open it so quickly" I thought.

Another fit of laughter took over me; I couldn't believe this.

Breathe, breathe, breathe. And I opened it.

[yearningagain]

it's enough (to make a girl blush): chapter three

HI SORRY FOR THE WAIT!! i had some unexpected personal setbacks but the third chapter is finally here!! finally some eddie pov smirk

i will also say that college has officially started back up for me, so chapters might come slower for the next few months, sorry! im an educated man what can i say

and now, on to the main attraction!

also on ao3!

total wc: 4.2k | wc: 1.6k | rating: e (18+) | pairing: steddie | cw: past drug use | tags: a/b/o, alpha eddie munson, omega steve harrington, modern au, baker steve, famous eddie, getting together, gay eddie, bi steve, soulmates/true mates/scent mates, side buckingham

part one | part two

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

Eddie was tired.

That’s a complete understatement. Eddie was exhausted. 

This wasn’t uncommon for him, he’d pulled his fair share of all-nighters growing up purely because he was hyperfocused on something and lost track of time. Even on nights he could manage to put himself to bed, insomnia and nightmares plagued him. His father screaming, his mother dying, Uncle Wayne finally saying he’d had enough of Eddie’s antics. He had run on pure adrenaline. (And maybe some of the leftovers Rick had given him.)

But that was high school. Now, Eddie had managed to give himself a semi-normal sleep schedule by giving his absolute all to Corroded Coffin, just to high-tail it back to wherever they were sleeping to crash for four to six hours, or until his brain got the better of him. And his dedication to the band, along with the motivation from the other members, had paid off immensely. They were actually quite popular now, selling out small venues in bigger cities and the off chance of getting recognised on an extremely busy street. The boys had toured the U.S. twice now, and were currently a quarter of the way done with their third. Their label had even begun talking about a world tour for their next album.

Eddie loved playing shows. He loved how he could feel the music deep in his bones, how the words he’d scribbled on a random notebook page were now being sung by thousands of voices, how he got to be himself through and through because that’s what got him there. He had also been sleeping fantastically, which was a plus.

Until two weeks ago.

Until the mystery man entered his dreams and knocked Eddie’s whole world out from underneath him.

—

The night had ended uneventfully, the first of two sold out shows in LA went on without a hitch. Eddie was thanking his past self for convincing the guys to get a hotel since they were staying in the city for multiple shows. No matter how much money they happened to rake in, oftentimes just staying on the bus was preferred. The alpha was crashing hard after coming off stage, barely managing to say bye to Jeff, Gareth, and Frank before stumbling to the waiting cab and eventually haphazardly shoving his key card into the lock of his hotel room. He toed his shoes off, pulled his shirt over his head, and fell face first into the bed. 

Eddie didn’t remember falling asleep. One second, he’s debating on if it’s worth it to shimmy off his skinny jeans, the next, he’s got an angelic omega in his lap frantically grinding against his thigh. 

He didn’t know where he was or who he was with, but none of that seemed to matter, if his alpha’s feeling of Omega, Mate, Safe was anything to go by. In fact, quite literally nothing mattered to him right now, except for the movements of the mystery man, the distinct wetness soaking through his pant leg, and how his fly was digging into his dick. 

“God, fuck- alpha, please…”

As soon as the title left the omega’s lips, the alpha was completely entranced. Eddie huffed, his hands quickly made their way to the man’s hips, gripping and guiding him to chase his impending orgasm. The alpha didn’t fare much better, already embarrassingly close to popping a knot in his jeans. 

“Ah- ‘M close, alpha…” was all the warning Eddie got before their efforts doubled down, both moving impossibly faster. He swayed forward trying to get a whiff of the omega, and he was rewarded greatly with the heady scent of spiced caramel apples, with an undercurrent of warm vanilla. In response, Eddie pumped out his own pheromones, hoping to get the other over the edge.

Suddenly, everything was wrong. He felt ice cold, plunged into consciousness unwillingly. As he opened his eyes, he was very disappointed to see no one in the hotel bed with him. That wasn’t unusual, waking up alone. Eddie hated hookups and one night stands and anything that left him feeling somehow more lonely than before, and he hadn’t met anyone he was willing to subtract time with the band to be substantial with. 

His thoughts were interrupted by a loud knock at the door, Jeff making sure he’s awake in time for their morning meeting. He simply groaned, rolled off the bed, and pushed all of these weird feelings as far down as he could.

—

Now, after two weeks of enduring hot dreams (that feel so so real), irritability, and the other members of Corroded Coffin, and even staff, having to tell him constantly to put on more blockers because he reeks, it makes sense that he’s exhausted. That’s not even including his growing urge to nest, his steadily increasing libido, and his inner alpha being infuriatingly restless. He thought he was putting on a brave face, hiding most of his internal issues from his bandmates, from the world. 

Too bad that his bandmates were also the people he trusted most, his best friends in the entire world, part of his pack. 

The boys had an off day- no shows, no interviews, nothing explicitly planned. They had arrived in Wisconsin late the previous night, going straight from the stage to the bus to pack up and start the drive from Missouri. Eddie had planned to take the day off to relax, maybe nap if his mind would allow it. But Jeff, Gareth, and Frank apparently had other ideas.

A knock on his bunk startled Eddie from his wandering mind, having spaced out thinking about the mystery omega yet again. He groaned, but pulled the privacy curtain back to give the stink eye to whoever disturbed him. Gareth waved sheepishly. “Hey, dude. Sorry to bother, but we got pizza.”

Immediately, Eddie forgave the beta, swiftly hauling his ass out of the bunk and into the main space of the bus where three pizzas had been laid out. Plain cheese for Gareth because he was vegetarian, pepperoni for Jeff and Frank because they were normal, and mushrooms and meatballs for Eddie because he was a freak like that. Once he grabbed two slices, Eddie sat down on the couch, finally realizing that the others were watching him intently.

“What? Do I have sauce on my face?” he asked lightly, but the set of their jaws made his blood run cold. Jeff shook his head, heaving a sigh before meeting his eyes.

“We need to talk.” Jeff began.

“Oh my god, are you breaking up with me?” Eddie comedically gasped. If there was one thing about him, it was that if he couldn’t run from the confrontation, he’d make some shitty joke about it.  

Despite his piss-poor attempt at deflection, Frank spoke up. “You’ve been different, dude. Holeing up in your bunk, snapping at us. You even growled at me. That’s not cool.”

The alpha at least had the sense to look apologetic about it. It was one thing to verbally snap at people, but it was another entirely to growl at someone. Especially someone who didn’t deserve it, like Frank. All he had done was point out a groupie that was desperate for Eddie, something the boys normally joked about knowing his distaste for engaging with them. But something about even suggesting anyone other than Mystery Omega felt completely and utterly wrong.

“Plus, you reek, bro. You know that. How do you keep forgetting your blockers? We just want to make sure you haven’t gotten yourself into something bad. I know this is different from high school, but the stress is still there. We want to know that you’re okay, Eddie,” Jeff said solemnly. 

Slowly but surely, the gears started turning for Eddie. “You- you guys think I’m on drugs?” He laughed, albeit a bit hysterically. He stood and started pacing. “I fucking wish I was on drugs! I feel like I’m losing it! My stupid alpha won’t stop being in-fucking-sane, all broody and moody and fucking annoying as hell. Keeps telling me to prepare and fucking nest and, fucking, oh, gotta make it perfect, gotta make it nice. For fucking what!”

His hands shot to his hair, tugging and pulling on the locks. “Not to mention that my dick is basically rubbed raw because I fucking always pop a knot, which I swear has gotten bigger. And I can’t stop it because those fucking dreams won’t stop! He’s always there, every single night, making my life absolute hell because he’s not actually here and he’s not actually real and I’m so fucking lonely that I made a guy up to get off!” Eddie was borderline feral now, pupils pinpoint and breaths coming in heavy gasps. He slowly sank to his knees, closed his eyes and took some deep breaths. “And I have been wearing blockers. I’ve stacked blockers.” He pulled his hair back, revealing at least three patches over his primary scent glands. “It’s not helping. Nothing is helping.”

Gareth stood from his spot on the opposite couch the alpha had been perched on, the information coming together quickly for him. “Is it the same guy?” he asks, taking a few steps to approach Eddie, who raised his head. “What?”

“Is it always the same guy, Eddie? I need you to be honest here.” The beta moved closer, kneeling in front and gently taking Eddie’s hands from his hair.

“Y-yeah. Same guy. Don’t have a face, but he smells divine, Gare. What’s going on?” Eddie asked quietly.

“I think you need to listen to your alpha. I think you need to prepare.”

[claraswritings]

Stay For Now, I Love You Forever

Pairing: Steven Grant x Reader (a tiny bit of Marc Spector x Reader- pining)

Summary: Steven meets a girl. Steven falls for her. Marc falls too.

Warning: Some angst. Set mostly pre-series. (Also for the sake of the fic, Marc is already divorced). First time writing Steven/Marc/Moon Knight system. This is not spell checked as I’m posting at nearly 2AM lol.

A/N: Meant to finish this sooner but I got Covid :( Tagged @marvelenthusiast10 )

***

“Okay Steven…what’s your symptoms.”

The man before you shifted in the chair, drumming his fingers on his jeans, eyes flickering over the walls. It looked like he was battling the urge to run away. It was obvious that he felt awkward, and you couldn’t blame him. It was pretty bizarre having to explain your sleep symptoms to a total stranger.

“Right…” Steve started then trailed off “Sorry Uhh…” he hesitated once more as he looked away from you and rested his gaze on the view from the window. where he could see I t had started to snow heavily.

“Huh…it’s snowing.” He commented “Didnt know it was going to snow? Did you?…Do you think the buses will be running?”

Sensing his rambling was a outburst of nerves, something to distract himself, you attempted to placate him “I didn’t…but I like the snow… I’m sure the buses will be fine but I’ll check the TfL website for you before you go. Do you need a drink?”

Steven brought his dark eyed gaze back to you. “Right sorry, sorry…” he muttered, scratching his jaw… “I’ll get to the point and stop rambling…”

“It’s okay…take your time…” you reassured him. “I have lots of time”

He hesitated, once more before he took a breath for composure

“Okay, so sometimes, yeah, I wake up… and…I‘ve lost… hours or even sometimes days at a time…like couple of weeks ago… I went to bed on Friday…” he gestured, with one hand, the sleeve of his over sized jacket sliding up as he did “but I woke up on Sunday…but I’m still tired…Fell asleep on the bus…” he trailed off for only long enough to rake a hand through his wavy dark hair “Feel like I’ve been hit by one too.”

He gave you a muted smile, as he pulled the long sleeves of his blue jacket back down.

Your lips lifted at corner as a response to his joke, and you nodded slowly, writing down what he was saying.

“That’s not normal is it? Losing days…” He frowned a little, his gaze on you, as you could feel him almost crying out for help “I feel like I’m losing my bloody mind.” He mumbled, his voice quiet.

“No Steven, you’re not, a lack of sleep can do all sorts of things to our bodies, that’s why I’m here. Sleep is a very difficult thing to get right… but we can help you…once we work out what might be causing whatever is happening…do you have any other symptoms? Do you ever sleep walk?”

“See… I thought maybe I did, cause I’d wake up and be like coming back through the door…” Steven leant forward, uncrossing his arms to draw a circle in the air “But like the sand circle would still be yknow in a circle, right? So I can’t be?” He spoke as if he was offering a suggesting, shoulders moving up and down in a shrug that did not look as nonchalant as he had clearly hoped

Now he’d lost you.

“Sand circle?”

“Oh god I’m gonna sound like a right weirdo…” he flopped back in the seat. “I put the sand circle around my bed…, yeah, cause if I was sleep walking I’d shuffle and ruin it.” Steven explained with a wave of his hand. “Wouldn’t I?”

You had to admit it, it was clever, if a little unconventional. “Yeah, that’s actually quite a good idea… never heard that one but I like it.” You nodded encouragingly. As the years you’d spent helping set up various sleep studies, you’d heard all the classics-no caffeine, no cheese, lavender oil, hot baths, white noise, black out curtains… but you’d never heard of using a sand circle to test if you were sleeping walking.

“That and the restraint on the bed.” Steven tacked on then instantly realised what he clicked your eyebrows shooting upwards “Not like that...I’m not like…” He muttered, a red creeping up over his face, as his hand crept up to itch the back of his neck. “Don’t really get the chance for anything like that with the…funny sleeping stuff and that…” he trailed off.

stoptalking stoptalking stoptalking stoptalking. He told himself internally and shook his head, trying not to visibly shudder at his own awkward comment. How he’d just told you, the prettiest woman he’d seen in…god knows how long, that he had a restraint on his bed. God Steven, way to show off your glaring red flag.

“You…you have a restraint?” you paused, trying not to smile at the flustered man before you, as he now was staring directly at the spot where your desk met carpet. “To prevent the sleepwalking of course.”

The comment about not having the chance stuck out to you. Must mean he’s single.

“Yeah, uh..I have tape too for the… for the door. So I can’t get out and bother anyone…Tried to keep myself up aswell, listened to a podcast and did the stuff it said… puzzles, reading books, all that…didn’t work though…”

His eyes shot back to you as hand ran through his thick wavy hair again Everything about him was a bundle of nerves from the fidgeting to the eyes looking from you to the window and back to the tangents, now on top of that, he was worried his sleep issue would bother anyone. You couldn’t help but feel for him.

“And how long have you been using these… techniques for?”

“Oh god…” he blew out a long exhale “I don’t actually know…to be quite honest…ages now…Doctor”

“It’s okay Steven, anything that can help you is worth trying…and I’m not a doctor… I’m a sleep…tech…” you held your hands up. “I just check you in and help with results.”

“Oh..sorry…” he faltered, a little embarrassed , trying to find the words “…Ms. Sleep… Tech…Technician?… Technologist?”

He cringed inwardly at his own sentence only seconds after the words had left his mouth and for the… he’d lost count… time since he’d entered the room.

“Just….[Name]”

Once again, you weren’t pulling back, recoiling or phased by his awkwardness. You were, much to his surprise, smiling at him. Not the weird passive smile Donna gave him when asking, or rather telling him, to stay late. Not the fake nicety smile exhausted tourists usually gave him, you were actually smiling at him like you thought he was funny. The smile you were giving him was so genuine and warm, he felt himself relax under your eyes.

“You must always be well rested. Must be nice.” Steven attempted to extend the conversation, hoping his attempt wasn’t too ungraceful.

“Ah. You’d be surprised,” There was a smile toying at the corner of your mouth “I’m better at giving advice than I am at following it.”

“Suppose It’s like chefs innit…they come home and probably just Deliveroo themselves a Nando’s or KFC or something?”

You laughed “Yeah, exactly what I mean…Now look…I know this is going to sound cliche but…problems with sleep, it’s more common than you think.” Pausing, you put your notebook down, and leant in, elbows planted on the desk. “But basically in your deepest stage of sleep… your brain switches off the muscles… so you won’t be acting out your dreams or anything crazy. If you are in that stage, you won’t go anywhere, Steven.”

You turned one of your folders over and pushed a case plan towards him, and pointing out the diagrams with the end of your pen.

“We’ll chart your brainwaves whilst you’re asleep… then we can use them to work out what’s going on.”

“And that’ll help me?” He sounded hopeful as his gaze ran over the notes, following your make shift pointer.

“Yeah I hope so, i mean it might not stop the processes but it’ll help us understand what’s going on.”

“You must think I’m a right weirdo…but it’s nice…to talk to someone that isn’t my fish…or the living statue bloke,” Steven turned back to you, giving you a thankful look. “Or my boss.” He pulled a face.

“I don’t think you’re weird, Steven… I want to help you. I’ll listen for as long as you need me to”

You hadn’t automatically assumed he was some weirdo which was a relief. He felt comfortable with you like you actually wanted to help him rather than judging him.

There was a moments silence, then your eyes flicked down to the notebook that lay between you and back to Steven.

“Do you drink tea…or coffee?”

“Oh… um, just tea with soy milk and one sugar. Sometimes a hot chocolate? Although that’s not caffeine is it? I wouldn’t mind one of those flavoured ones, Think they do them that cafe around the corner if you’d like?” He grinned somewhat awkwardly “they do refills…which you know in London, gotta get your moneys worth… it’s expensive.”

You felt a heat creep up your face “Erm…it’s for the questionnaire? I need to know how much caffeine you’re drinking?”

“Oh..oh god I’m sorry, I’ve just put my foot in it havent I?… I thought you were…and now I’m rambling, I do that…”

“But…yes Steven. I’d love to have any hot drink with you…”

“Wait. Really?” Steven faltered, surprised.

“Of course. I finish at half five. I’ll meet you there.”

And when you’d walked into the cafe, saw him already waiting there, drink gently steaming on the table and book in hand, reading glasses on, you’d slid in beside him and had never looked back.

*

When Steven offered to meet you at your flat to go for dinner two days later, you agreed. It was suggestion, that had it come from any of the fuck boys in your Tinder matches would have had you hitting the un match button…but with Steven…you knew he was being sweet.

You knew he wasn’t just asking to try get into your place and into your underwear, although you wouldn’t have minded. He was asking because he didn’t want you to walk to the Tube station alone in the dark.

Steven had wrapped up in a winter coat, and worn a dark blue scarf and matching gloves. He brought chocolate and a dozen pink roses, which as he’d handed over, he’d told you that he noticed your notebook had been pink and thought it was a safe bet for the colour. Before you could say thank you he’d already apologised for the chocolates incase you hated them or incase he’d got the colour wrong.

You’d kissed him on the cheek, told them they were perfect and that you’d share the chocolates with him, before linking your gloved hands together and starting your walk to your favourite Asian restaurant in Camden, where he’d had a tofu version of a curry and you’d had chicken teriyaki skewers. It was closing time before you’d left arm in arm, giggling as you walked together.

As you made your way back to the Tube station, Steven had excitedly wanted to try a bubble waffle, so you’d opted for a shared vegan friendly version and ate it with two forks. You’d hugged him outside the station then met him outside his work two days later…and before long you’d fallen into an easy pattern of dating.

The first time he hadn’t called when he said he would, was one month into dating and he was eight hours late. Steven had saw the voicemails left from you and panicked, fully expecting the “you’re an arsehole, never talk to me again” but no, you’d called him to check he was okay, came by his place and even posted a card through his letterbox telling him you were thinking of him and you hoped he was okay.

You were worried.

Steven kept that card in the top drawer of his beside table alongside a napkin from your first date, one of the gratuity sweets from your second, the first note you’d ever wrote to him, a puzzle you’d bought to do together and a model pyramid you’d saw online and thought of him. You’d said you just saw it on Amazon, but it wasn’t one you could just buy. Steven knew from the model that you’d have had to buy it from a specific retailer. You’d never tell him you googled it specifically but he loved that you did.

He knew he loved you then and there

*

“Hey babe.” You stuck your head around the entrance to the gift shop and grinned at him.

Steven, at the sight of you, dropped the plush back into a box and ran to you, squeezing you tight.

“Hiya love, I’m just finishing up here. Won’t be five minutes and I’ll be over to you” he kept his hands on your waist as you wrapped yours around his neck and kissed him before reaching up and straightening the collar of his patterned shirt

“Okay, babe. I’ll just wander around. We can go to that new bakery if you like. I’ve checked the menu, they do have vegan options.”

His lips curled into a smile and he squeezed your hand by way of thanking you before you headed off to wait for him.

“That sounds brilliant. Really good!”

“Stevie!” A call rang out from across the room and Steven rolled his eyes

“Oh fuck Donna.”

“Stevie! I told you the answers no. So just stop talking to guests…alright? Leave it to the real tour guides…”She turned to you, not giving him the chance to reply “Is he bothering you?”

“Actually…” you wrapped your arm around Steven. “He’s not. I’m…”

“Oh…Stevie’s girlfriend.” Donna pointed at you “Gunna be honest, thought he’d made you up. Kept saying you were dead pretty and let him talk. Didn’t actually think you were real.” She laughed mirthlessly. “Thought he was bothering the guests again!”

“Well Steven is a wealth of information, and I want my info from the best source” you gave her as friendly of a smile as you could muster.

“Best source is a tour guide” she smiled “but I’m glad he has someone to listen to his weird rambling.”

“I’d rather hear about it from someone with a passion for it”

“I’m sure our guides are plenty passionate.” She turned on her heel to face Steven. “Clock off please. I’m not paying you to chat to your girlfriend.”

“Sure, Donna. Pleasure as always.” He gave a curt wave, however she had already stalked off before she could return the acknowledgment. “Back in a sec, love.” He leant in and pecked your lips before disappearing off to clock out.

When he returned a few minutes later you linked you arm through his, and noticing he looked slightly dejected, attempted to offer him some comfort.

“She doesn’t know what she’s missing out on. I’ve done a few of these tours and I’ve learnt more from listening to you at home than I have from any of them”

“Really?” He perked up “Cause we have this new exhibit, it’s basically like the super group of Egyptian gods and it’s really interesting…the posters only show seven but there’s nine and…” Steven was suddenly conscious he was babbling but when he looked at you, he was still holding your attention.

“Tell me about it?” You asked him.

“About the super group?” Steven was quick to check, excited at the chance to discuss his passion before stopping. “I don’t want to bore you, love”

“You won’t.” You gave his arm a reassuring squeeze through

Steven could never bore you, everything about him was captivating. He was so excited and so passionate about Egyptian mythology that you couldn’t help but be drawn in by his wide eyed enthusiasm. You liked it when he went off on a tangent. It was cute.

“I love you, you know. And not just because you let me go on about Egyptology or that, I just really do love you, and I never thought I’d get that.”

“I love you too Steven.” You kissed him. “Now tell me about these super gods, I wanna know about the missing ones…”

***a few weeks later***

Marc froze. You were half asleep-half awake, the lights from the window, casting bright lights through the window of Stevens flat. You looked angelic, the slopes of your face, the curves of your body as you pulled the duvet tighter.

He’d watched from the background as you and Steven had fallen for each other over the past few months and Marc had, having seen how you were to Steven, had fallen for you too.

He’d realised it when he saw how gentle you were with Steven, after he’d woken one night when you’d been staying the night. He’d stumbled back to bed, a struggle to keep control of the body and barely collapsed into a half slumber before Steven had woke with a jolt around fifteen minutes later, pulling hard at the restraint and checking around him.

**flashback**

“Hey hey, it’s me babe, you’re okay…” you, on instinct, sat up next to Steven. He was checking the restraint, pulling at it hard to make sure it was in place. “…Steven, babe. You’re here, I’m with you, it’s okay.”

You reached for him slowly not making contact until Steven turned to meet your eyes. He was breathing heavy, chest heaving and shoulders tight, brow furrowed as you wrapped one arm around him and held his hand with the other.

“Steven. You haven’t had anything like this in a while.”

It was the first time you’d been there when it had happened. Usually, if Steven had a rough night, he’d call you and you’d talk and you’d stay with him listening.

“Im here babe.” You whispered

“Youre here.” His voice sounded so small and lost and such a far cry from how you’d ever heard him. A part of your heart broke seeing your usual bubbly, chatty Steven such a wreck. “I thought you’d left.”

“No. No.” You pulled him into you, lying back with his head on your shoulder as you carefully carded your hand through his curls. “I’m not leaving.…” You reached for his hand and pressed a kiss to the back of his knuckles. “I’m not going anywhere.”

“Please stay for now”

“Of course, for as long as you need me.”

**

Marc had felt so guilty that night that he’d resolved that he wouldn’t go far when you were staying the night. Steven deserved some happiness, a sense of peace, some chance to be normal so tonight he’d kept it short, a quick hour before returning back to you.

Marc wondered if he’d met you first…rather than Steven, would you have fallen in love with him? Would you be stroking circles on his back and whispering sweet nothings to him when he woke in the dead of the night, freaked out and panicking.

He doubted it. Everything you loved was so rooted in Steven. Sweet, endearingly quirky, good-natured, warm hearted, clever Steven, who was nothing like Marc.

You were always staring at Steven, looking in his big wide eyes, playing with the fluffy curls that Marc usually slicked back, sliding your hands under Steven’s oversized clothes that Marc hated, asking him questions about the book Steven was reading that Marc didn’t know anything about, offering suggestions for whatever puzzle Steven was looking at that Marc didn’t care for, you cooked Steven vegan versions of your own lunches where Marc would have preferred the meat, you left cute notes for Steven to find. You called him Babe all the time.

Steven deserved the world but, god how Marc was jealous. He wanted you to look at him the way you looked at Steven. He could feel it heavy on his shoulders as he breathed and like an open wound in his chest.

“Steven?” He froze in the spot where he was, you turned over in the bed, voice half asleep. “Come back to bed. It’s cold.” You muttered

“Shhh, back to sleep.” He had hoped you wouldn’t notice the change from London to American as he whispered approaching the bed.

“Babe you’re talking different.” you muttered.

The second of silence that passed felt like an age to Marc, the only sound was his hammering heart rate, before you filled the room with a sleepy laugh “You’re so funny…I love you Steven.”

And like that you were back to sleep, leaving Marc alone with his own racing heart.

**a few weeks later**

Steven had been gone for five days. You’d spent most of your mornings leaving early for work to drop in on him and see if he’d shown up, your lunch breaks scouring the local news to see if an anonymous man had shown up in any hospitals, you’d called almost every hospital and police station within a ten mile radius. The police had told you they’d “note his name and description” and let you know. By Wednesday you’d even went to his work twice only for Donna to tell you Steven doesn’t work here.

You’d began to wonder you should be going back to the police to tell them the missing person you’d reported still had not shown up when you heard a knocking at your door

“Gimme a minute,” You called out as pulled yourself off the sofa and headed to the door. Hauling it open you half expected to see your neighbour or the postman. What you were not expecting to see was your boyfriend, in a baggy navy jumper, hair sticking up at all angles and looking like he’d come off a 72 hour all nighter.

He wouldn’t have of course, Steven barely drank so you couldn’t process exactly how or what the fuck had happened until he spoke.

“Hi.” He managed to get out “I’m sorry I didn’t call you.”

“Steven…You‘ve been gone for days…where the fuck where you?” Your mouth formed the words, quieter, more concerned than angry.

Instead of saying a word, you felt him slump into your arms, exhausted.

“Fucking hell Steven, what happened?” You repeated yourself with a mutter as you looped an arm around his waist and the other you used to support him and helped him to the couch, where he flopped down. Your heart ached just looking at him.

“Don’t go.” He murmured, “Stay here.”

“I’m just getting you a blanket and a cuppa, babe… okay?” You brushed some of his curls back as he nodded. “I’ll be back in two minutes… I promise.”

You kissed his head and exactly two minutes later, you returned a steaming mug of tea and your favourite sage green blanket. You’d bought it in the Dunlem sale and it never left your bed until it made its way to Stevens. You’d wrapped him in it once when he’d fallen asleep at his desk and he’d looked so adorable you’d insisted he kept it.

“Are you okay? Should I be calling an ambulance or the police or something?”

His hands knotted around the edges as you draped it over him and sat the mug in front of him. You sat in silence beside him until he’d had a few large gulps. Steven shook his head

“I’m okay…no ambulance. no police needed. It’s alright..”

“Steven. You have to tell me where you were.” You tried “Please. I thought you were missing or dead, I kept expecting to see your picture on the news as a fucking body found.”

“You wouldn’t believe me…” he let out a tiny impression of a laugh “I mean not just you… no one would and I don’t blame them.”

“I will…I promise.”

“It sounds made up”

“Babe, not that long ago Spider-Man had a fight on Tower Bridge, and before that half the world disappeared and came back and before that Thor had a fight with that…alien thing in Greenwich and before that if you’d asked me, I’d say that shit only happens in New York but I’m three out of three of mad things that have happened to me so nothing you say is going to freak me out… but saying nothing is…” You pressed your head to his. “Please…please tell me where you were.”

Steven sighed, you looked so desperate to help, so worried and he could hear Marc, telling him to be honest with you, not being honest with Layla had cost him his relationship, and although they were still friends, he didn’t want the same to happen to you.

“Yeah okay…” he started “but you got to let me tell you the whole thing, alright? No matter how mental it sounds.”

You smiled. “Of course.”

And for the whole time, you kept your attention on him, nodding, asking questions and squeezing his hand”

“Suppose that’s it all.” He said with a finish “I’ll understand if you don’t want to go out with me anymore…”

“Steven.” You pulled him into a hug, hands reaching up to rub his back. “I believe you and I love you and of course I still want to go out with you.”

“But all I do is cause problems for everyone…I don’t want to mess up your-.”

“You could never be a problem. Not for me.”

“I will eventually.”

“Steven, there is no problem you could cause that would be too big. You were never a problem to me.” Your head shook vehemently “and you never will be. Not now, not ever. You and me always.”

“I love you…” he muttered leaning in and pressing his head to yours so softly “forever”

“…I love you so much.”

“You’re the best thing that ever happened to me…us.” He paused, as you tilted your head with a smile “Marc won’t come forward now but he cares for you. A lot.”

“Steven, you will always be enough for me…but one day I’d like to meet him…Marc…if that’s okay with both of you…when he’s ready.”

Steven nodded. “I think he’d like that too.”

The relief lifted a weigh off his shoulders and he felt himself settle back into the sofa. You joined him, and slipped your arms around him, pulling the blanket around you both.

“I’ve missed you.” You muttered quietly.

“I missed you too.”

Steven kissed you softly and started to apologise before you planted another kiss on his lips, softly and gently.

“Shhh, you have nothing to apologise for. I’m just glad I have my boyfriend back.” You gave him an easy smile and he leant in.

.“I’m glad I’m back too…love. To the rest of our lives Eh?” He leant in to you as you repeated his sentiment.

“To the rest of our lives”

[aphroditeslover11]

The Flat Next Door

Fun to write and thank you for the ask! i swear to God I feel this gif somewhere deep inside of me!

Warnings: a bit of touchy feely, mentions of divorce, not proofread and fuelled by lingering red wine and exhaustion!

Jim was fresh out of his divorce. He had lost his kids in a custody battle after getting into a fight with their step dad, along with the majority of his savings, his new girlfriend left him as soon as he wanted to get serious and he really was completely alone in the world. Bearing all of this in mind he moved across the Irish Sea and took up a new job in Liverpool. The pay wasn’t the best but he wasn’t responsible for anyone apart from himself now and the city itself made up for it. It did mean though, that aged 42, he was having to live in an absolute dive in a block of apartments he never though he would have to see the likes of again until now. The kinds of people living here were the ones that you didn’t want to bump into on a dark night or had just decided to give up on life and slowly rot into the decaying depths of society. He was pretty sure that the apartment to his left was being used as a weed farm from the smell and the weird times that people were walking in and out. The flat to his right was a bit different though, it belonged to a girl who simply didn’t fit in among this band of junkies and lowlifes. She couldn’t have been much older than 22 and always kept herself to herself. Everyday she would come home at around the same time, make dinner, work for a bit and fall asleep with the tv on in the background. It was hard not to notice these things with how thin the walls were. Who was she though? That was something he was curious to find out.

~

It was three months after you had moved into your apartment that the absolute unthinkable happened. Somebody had broken into your flat, not that you should have been surprised. The door had been kicked clean off the hinges and nobody had even thought anything of it. The place missing a door though meant that it was hardly safe to stay here and fixing it was not a job that you could do yourself. This was how you had come to meet Jim, the helpful man from the apartment next door who had spotted your distress and come over with a toolbox to help you fix it. You had invited him in for coffee and the pair of you had fallen asleep on the sofa, not that it meant anything of course, you were scared so he had stayed incase the burglars had made a return visit.

After that you had started meeting up for coffee periodically. He learnt that you were a student, having ended up here after fleeing from the house you had been sharing after discovering that your boyfriend was cheating on you with one of your housemates. Though you were at very different points in your lives there was some sense of empathy between the two of you. Perhaps a friendship based on a mutual sense of abandonment wasn’t the healthiest thing in the world, but it was certainly what you were both craving around this time. 

The other thing that Jim learnt about you was that you were a very tactile person. Whenever you walked past him in the kitchen whilst making a cup of coffee you would place a hand on his shoulder, as if to move him out of your way. If you were sat together on his shitty little sofa and he made a joke you would always place a hand on his thigh or his forearm, as if to keep you grounded as you laughed.

As of late he was starting to wonder whether there was more to these touches than he had originally thought. It was moments like these, when you watching television together with him sat at one end of the sofa with your feet in his lap, that he questioned what you really wanted out of him. He was caught off guard by you moving your feet in his lap.

“You know Jim, I’ve put them there for a reason. I missed the bus and my feet are killing me and I was hoping I might get a foot massage out of you?” You chuckled.

“You poor thing, I can’t promise I’ll be much good but I can certainly try.”

“You’re an angel, I promise I’ll make it up to you in time.” What the hell is that meant to mean?

 ~

Three weeks later and he still didn’t know what that comment had meant. Rents had been put up and he, remembering the financial struggles of being a student, had starting offering to cook for you more often. He wanted to make sure that you were eating something other than pot-noodles or HP Sauce on toast.  You’d started helping him cook as well, if he was honest the evenings were when he missed his kids the most, so the little arrangement worked out well in his favour. You were coming back from one of the cupboards with a tin of tomatoes, he was expecting your hand to find his shoulder, but it didn’t stay there like it normally did, instead trailing down his back until it came to briefly rest on his ass. Caught unawares he automatically reached for your arm, holding it in a gentle grip.

“Y/n, what are you doing?”

“You remember how a while ago you gave me that massage?”

“Yes.” 

“And I said I’d make up for it in time?”

“Yes.”

“How would you feel about cashing in on that now…” 

[spiderfunkz]

hii! i was wondering if you could write something about robin buckley choosing reader to go to europe with her for the summer! (maybe a rebel robin au??) ive never seen anyone write anything about it and id think id be cute!

✧.* operation crossaint!

— summary : summer in hawkins is boring. so, how about a trip to europe?

— pairings : robin buckley x fem!reader

— word count : 0,9k

— warnings : fluff, friends to lovers, oblivious reader kinda, messy plot whoops, foul language, kissing mwah mwah, weird time jumps, not proofread, this is set in the summer btw!! robin & reader is 18 here.

a/n : hi there! thank u for the request anon ^_^ i tried fitting some aspects and references from rebel robin because i couldn't really fit in the whole au and storyline of rebel robin because i don't think it'll fit that well, so sorry about that!!

"operation crossaint?" you question as robin nodded. "just hear me out. i want to live outside of hawkins y/n. i want to know whats outside of this shitty town," she explains.

"it's sounds weird i know but, i want to learn and experience things." she continues.

"so like europe?" you ask, "yes! exactly like europe. i want to travel, meet people who live exactly how they want to, i want to see beautiful museums, and walk down old streets!" she rambles.

you nodded listening to everything she says. "and live off of crossaints and cheese?" you laugh — "mhm!" she nodded.

"i told mr hauser about it and, he told me to take someone with me, and he suggested milton or dash but i was thinking-" she paused, "that maybe you could go with me?" she asks, scrunching her nose.

"or don't, i understand that maybe you have something going on or maybe you focusing on othe-"

"i'll go with you." you stated. "but we literally have 0 dollars and, have you asked your parents?" you ask.

"we can work on that! mr hauser said that he could help talk to my parents which automatically means that he could talk to yours so-" she rambles, "all he said is that if i find someone to take with he could help me. and you said yes."

"yeah well of course, i mean spending any time at all with you and in europe? that sounds like an absolute dream." you smiled.

robin's cheeks grew pink as you stated that. europe? with you? together? is she dreaming right now?

"i'll go work things out, i'll see you tomorrow y/n." she waved.

you were so caught up with the conversation you don't realize you were outside your house now as robin skipped away.

—

robin could barely sleep that night, was she really going to spend her time in europe with you?

god, she was so excited to tell mr hauser all about it. she had already started learning languages she thought might be important for the trip, like french or their culture and stuff.

she is so excited to spend time with you, especially outside of hawkins. the walks you could go with her, the food you get to taste together, the memories she could make.

"jesus, get yourself together buckley." robin sighed, her thoughts haunting her as she slowly falls asleep.

—

you sat down the bus, going home from another miserable day at hawkins high. flipping through the pages of your book, you see robin hoping on, almost missing the bus.

she ignores the taunts of some of the older kids before spotting you and sitting next to you.

"dunno whats their problem," you look back at the older teens mocking robin — "their probably failing another year anyways." you stated, voice a bit louder. "i hope they fall off of the bus." she sighed.

it's been a few weeks since robin told you about 'operation crossaint' and you two just got back from thanksgiving break.

"so, how was your break?" you ask. "amazing actually, i got a job, and i think i can finally afford tickets for two people to go to europe!" she smiles.

"really? that's great! i saved up a bit and i think we can manage. plus, you know extra money for gifts and stuff." you added.

robin was so beyond excited that you stuck by her, the last few weeks everything had been going the total opposite for her, yet you were still there for her in every moment.

"i also bought a camera recently, and we could bring that to our trip. you know? for memories and stuff, so they last forever." you say as robin nodded, smiling wider than ever.

—

and here you are now!

the past weeks is the probably the best few weeks ever. europe, with robin, together.

you two finally get to experience the europe dream, going to museums, eating in fancy cafes, going on trips on a boat, and just living a life outside of hawkins.

you've been carrying your camera around everywhere, documenting your summer with your person.

and for robin, the past few weeks was somewhat of an awakening for her. she finally could understand herself with the help from you and everything around her.

she now understands why she's been feeling a certain way around certain people, especially you. like butterflies fluttering in her stomach, and how her heart feels like its going to explode.

and that brings you here, on a random hill surrounded by pretty flowers and bright stars above.

"heres one where we were at the fair, the ferris wheel looked so pretty here." you showed robin the pictures you've been taking along the trip.

"oh! and these are some cats near by the water, remember? the ones i told you. gosh, they're just so cute." you smile.

you didn't notice how quiet robin was, you could feel her smile but she hasn't said anything.

you look up and notice that she wasn't looking at your camera like you had been doing. she was looking at you.

"what? do i have something on my face?" you questioned.

in robin's defense, you're really pretty. cherry stained lips, gorgeous hair that just falls in place so perfectly, and the prettiest eyes.

"it's not nice to stare buckley." you chuckle, "you're too pretty not too." she replied.

the tension grew as the moon shined, perfectly reflecting robin's freckles.

she moved closer to you, the smell of your perfume overwhelming her.

she kissed you.

you kissed her.

robin pulled away, realizing what she just did, what you just did. your cherry stained lips now staining her.

"i'm sorry i should've-" robin got cut off, your lips connected to hers again. "don't apologize robs." you say, tucking her hair.

"i like you, like, like like you." robin stated — "i like like you too." you replied.

[abiiors]

okay here’s one that i wrote a few days back and i’m not 100% sure about it but you were so sweet and i thought might as well you know :) it’s very sweet (i at least tried to make it that way) and i just really hope he’s feeling better now but here it is!!

when she returned to the bus with george, chatting about just how much reverb is too much for the song they were working on, she immediately heard the curses coming from ross’s bunk. she knew he had a few issues while playing as of recently, her diagnosis being a repetitive strain injury in his arm, but he refused to let anyone help, suffering in silence and trying to teach himself how to use kinetic tape to make it all a bit more bearable. when she moved the curtain of his bunk to the side she saw him sat on his bed, shirt off and trying very hard to wrap his upper arm with kt tape but obviously failing to do so. “ross, stop. if you don’t let me do this i will fight you and i mean that.” the soft, slightly pitiful smile on her face told him otherwise as he looked up. she climbed up into the bunk, the space between the two dangerously small and crammed, but neither seemed to care. she carefully removed the tape that was already on ross’s arm, trying her best to make it as painless as possible, though still earning some curses from ross. she couldn’t help herself from looking at the tattoos that were sprinkled around his arm, adorning his skin and making her wonder about the origins. the one on his shoulder she knew about, she was there when he got it. it was dedicated to a close friend of his that sadly passed a few years back and he decided to commemorate him by getting one of his drawings on his right shoulder. when he went in to get the tattoo he asked her to come with him, at first under the pretence of him not getting bored but deep down he knew that it was because he needed her there to support him. he needed her everytime she wasn’t around because he was deeply in love with her. not that she knew that.

she carefully cut the pieces of tape and started applying them to his skin, pressing down at certain points and asking him to move his arm so that she could create more friction and thus make the tape more effective. ross only watched, careful not to get too affected by her touch. by the time she was done she pressed a kiss on his shoulder and he leaned into her touch, not wanting her to go just yet. “thank you”, he lowly said, careful not to break the tension that had been building up between them. she traced her fingers across the delicate art on his arm, and he let her. he usually hated people touching him like that, in such a vulnerable state, but he did not care with her. in fact, he wanted it; craved it even. at some point he turned around and pulled her into him. she smiled as she laid down on his chest, now tracing along the tattoo on his side, one that she rarely saw. her fingers continued to explore his tattoos, and he closed his eyes, savoring the sensation. “you know, i’ll probably fall asleep if you keep that going, love.” he said, opening his eyes to see her already smiling at him. “and what’s so bad about that?” she asked and he pulled her even closer.

ross wrapped his arms around her, holding her close as if he never wanted to let go. the steady rhythm of his heartbeat beneath her ear was a soothing lullaby, and it didn't take long for the combined warmth and tenderness of their moment to lull them into a state of drowsiness.

as their eyes grew heavy and their breathing slowed, ross whispered, "promise you won't leave, even if I fall asleep."

her heart swelled with affection as she nuzzled closer to him, her lips brushing against his chest as she whispered, "now where else would i go?”, her breath sending shivers down his spine. her closeness was both maddening and comforting, a sweet torture that ross willingly surrendered to.

oh god the YEARNINGGGGGG!!! 😭😩 friends to lovers trope is always just so >>>>>

and also the part about him getting the tattoo was actually so fucking sweet :(( like ngl i have thought about it multiple times about him commemorating a friend in such a heartwarming way 🩷😭

[kaininja2]

Travelling experience in a 6 and a half hour flight.. with 2 of us who don't like plane restrooms. (If the response on this is good I'll give more detailed things if they happen xD)

We both had drinks before our flight—she had coffee, and I had a strawberry lemonade about 1.5 hours before departure. Used the restroom, found a place to sit and waited for the boarding process. As we boarded, I felt the urge to use the restroom but decided to wait until we were on the plane.

I'm already feeling it. I have to go soon. I brush it off, I'll just get on the plane and use the restroom when she says she needs to go too (which is usually the case).

My bladder feels heavy as soon as I sit in the middle of the four seats on the plane, surrounded by two people occupying the aisle seats. The day the belt was set up tight, I could physically sense it pressing against my bladder as I put it around my waist. It takes a long time to board, and as we take off, I finally fall asleep.

When I wake up, my bladder is definitely letting me know I need to pee. I lightly press my bladder— it is full. I am wondering how the coffee hasn't made her pee yet, but she seems at ease. She keeps drinking water.. I cross my legs and decline her offer of water.

It had only been 45 minutes, but all I could think about was how strong the urge was growing. As I listen to music, my main concern is when she asks me whether we should get up to use the restroom.

I begin repositioning myself on the seat in an attempt to reduce discomfort. I remove my belt. I never do that typically. I have to go soon. I consider asking to use the restroom, but then I decide to give her some time to relax. I'll wait another hour before asking.

Time goes by, and I don't ask. Time seems to be moving more slowly than before as I sit there with my legs together, trembling, trying to ignore the urge. Food comes and goes. I gently rub my palm over my lower abdomen. If I were at home, this would feel like a dream. I try to watch movies, but all I can think about is what might happen if I get up and pee myself. I get turned on and begin to think NSFW things.

I place my arms on my bladder.. it already had a blunt ache now its being pressed even more.. the tray table comes down and i have limited space to move.. as she sleeps i moan in desperation. Throughout the flight just continuously exhaling sharply and letting out soft moans.

As the flight nears its landing, I'm shifting my weight since my abdomen feels sore significantly. Suddenly, she says, "The moment we land, we need to look for the restroom. I desperately have to go." I agree, and those comments make me feel turned on. When we land I'm pushing her out of the aisle so we can go.

We notice a restroom as soon as we arrive, but there is a problem with arrivals, and our connecting gate is across the airport via a bus journey. She fortunately states, "Let's go to the toilet; I need to relieve myself so bad it's coming out. It's begun to come out a bit," while I'm attempting to be calm. Don't turn me on just yet, Mnh.

It's uncommon that I've seen both of us look so relieved after using the restroom.

I can still clearly recall my thoughts. I'll attempt to record them.

I need to go to the restroom. Why won't she get up? There is no way that the coffee hasn't filled her bladder completely. (I lightly strike the side of her stomach.) She just sleeps and watches shows..how... This is the actual test for your bladder, and it feels so amazing. God, it's about to come out. Ahhh, if I don't go soon. Of course, I'm switched on throughout the flight, but I would love to do this at home. *Put ideas of omo.. nsfw.. scenarios in my head*.. *Desperate panicking*

Just really wanted to share this with someone.. I've got more stories.. I even remember those switched on thoughts... I can post em depends

[thedrarrylibrarian]

Hello Lovely Librarian!

I’m looking for some cute fics on the shorter side (maybe like 1k). Something to make me happy! Nothing explicit please!

-Sarah

Hi Sarah!

Your holds have arrived! I've got nothing but short, sweet fluff ready for you!

Short and Sweet

Nap by @drarrily-we-row-along (264 words, rated G)

He opened his mouth to start ranting about his day to said husband but came up short when he actually caught sight of him. Harry was lying curled up on the sofa, one of Molly’s afghans thrown over his legs. His hand was curled under his cheek and his face was so open in his sleep, completely defenseless.

Forehead Kisses by @cluelesspigeons (476 words, rated G)

Draco has never liked kissing people. But he's determined to find a way he can show his love to Harry.

Wake Up by @kittycargo (695 words, rated G)

Draco won't let Harry sleep.

To Dare To Hope by @crazybutgood (856 words, rated G)

Come Sunday morning, I am positively thrumming — with the knowledge of being in love.

Can't Spell Enemy Without Friend by x (945 words, rated T)

“Piss off,” Ron said, rolling his eyes. “I’m just saying, what if we are making this bigger than it needs to be? They might not even react.”

“After all the valid shit I’ve said about you over the years?” Draco scoffed. “No one is going to believe that we’re friends.”

Oh My God, Did I Fall Asleep On You? by @shelvesuponshelves (1,004 words, rated T)

They're in a bus and one fall asleep on the other's shoulder?

Potter-Malfoy Negotiations by @dracogotgame (1,055 words, rated G)

It's Al's first day at preschool and Harry is a bundle of nerves. But he's certainly not alone.

❤️ As always, if you find a fic you enjoy, please remember to leave the author a kudos or a comment! ❤️

Lots of Love and Happy Reading!

[katwriteswhump]

Whumpril 2024 Day 1: Limp

@whumpril hi idk, this is my first time participating in a whump event, but ive been a lurker forever so i thought id give it a go

Warnings: idk, it’s not graphic, just mostly caretaking, implied violence, aftermath of violence, all under cut cus yeah

Day 1: Limp

Everly arrived home from work with her hair practically falling out. Having missed her bus, she’d walked the whole way back from the station in the city. The rain had made her usually neat red hair frizzier than normal, and by this point her mascara was almost certainly dripping down her face.

Her plan was to quickly clean herself up, check up on Selma who was still in the attic, and then go to bed as quickly as possible.

She went into the front room to close the blinds, and found Selma asleep on the sofa, rolled over in that awkward position she always slept in, quietly breathing in and out, in and out.

Did she dare move her? If she carried her upstairs, to her more comfortable bed, she might wake up, and that wasn’t what she wanted.

She made up her mind to move Selma. She slowly hooked her arm around her sleeping friend, whose face looked so quiet. Selma’s signature bun was messed up, and her hair looked even worse than Everly’s did.

Dear God. How could he have done this to her?

Selma’s body fell limply in Everly’s arms. Taking care to be quiet, she tiptoed up the stairs, and came to the attic. She laid Selma down on the comfortable bed and made sure she would be warm when she woke up.

‘Night, Selma,’ she said quietly. ‘Love you.’

[bejoomi]

* ♪ – quiet when i'm coming home, and i'm on my own

joomi doesn't know if it's better or worse that he still sees jinyoung every day.

it might be worse. somehow, going home with him most days for just a couple months was enough to become something he has to unlearn. some part of him still waits, at the end of every training day, to not have to go home alone.

there's something exhausting about it: the constant expectation and disappointment of going home by himself. when he gets home it's almost always dark, sua in her room, whether she's asleep or awake doing something. he usually just takes a shower and goes straight to bed these days; he needs at least an hour to stare blankly at his ceiling before he can manage to get any sleep. he stays as late as he can at training, too, so desperate to postpone the reality of sleeping alone for as long as he can.

it's pathetic. that's how joomi feels: pathetic. even knowing why jinyoung is distant – even understanding it, he's still pathetic. he's still pining and sad and he thinks he would be fine if he could just hold his hand again. he doesn't even need to fall asleep with him like he used to. he'll take anything.

it's just that he can't help but think about him when he's trying to fall asleep alone. he's being dramatic. he tells himself that over and over, but still can't shake the feeling of being so completely and utterly alone. he tries to remind himself: even if he doesn't have jinyoung, he has the dead calm boys, and ren and dohyun, and other friends that matter to him, but...at the end of the day he's still alone. he's always been alone. it's nothing new, and he was fine for years by himself. why is it different now?

he thinks of that night after next gen, when jinyoung tried to bake away his emotions and they awkwardly sat on the couch together with cupcakes in the oven, and he asked him if he could hold his hand. joomi said something then, about how in his saddest moments, he would've really liked someone to hold his hand. maybe that's it, then: two months of always having someone to hold his hand like he always wanted, without knowing he always wanted it. now that it's gone, he feels it.

tonight, it's like an extra weight on his chest, crushing. he stares at his ceiling and doesn't know if he's ever felt so empty or so stupid. somehow, closing his eyes makes it worse. he can't breathe, and he feels like the only person alive in the entire world. he sits up in his bed, hoping that will fix something. it doesn't.

i don't want to be alone, he thinks to himself. ren or dohyun would probably be fine with him calling them and going over, but he feels bad, and he doesn't want to take a fucking train or bus at fuck-o-clock in the morning while on the verge of an emotional breakdown.

sua is here, though. god, he doesn't want to bother her, but he also feels physically incapable of laying here by himself any longer. so he slips out of bed and out of his room, then just sort of awkwardly stands there in the hall outside.

he could just sleep on the sofa instead. that sounds slightly less terrible, but he really just wants to sit with someone. he doesn't know if he even wants to talk. he just wants a concrete reminder that he isn't alone in this world.

he runs over what to say in his head, and stands outside of sua's bedroom door for far too long. eventually, he gathers the courage to open it.

"sua..." he calls. "i'm, um...kinda going through something right now...and i just...don't want to be alone, i think. will you just...come sit with me for a while?" he is so pathetic. he trusts sua, though; he doesn't think she'll say no.

@bexsua *

[carpehistoryandthepens]

Legacy (what is a legacy?) Part 1

It's planting seeds in a garden you never get to see I wrote some notes at the beginning of a song someone will sing for me

Hamilton, the world was wide enough. LMM.

Summary: Mike is 13. Born May 2009. Sid didn't know he had a son. All Mike had was hope and a prayer for his and his half-sister's safety.

(Sid is a dad of a teen he didn't know about AU) Sidgeno.

Warnings: (for the total story) post-child abuse (all off-screen but it affects things and is spoken about often), learning how to parent, panic attacks, anxiety, based on last season, OCs?, realization about sexuality. Post breakups. Desperate lack of in-depth research for CPS in both PA/CA, melodrama?, kidfic, angst, slowburn, playing fast and loose with the law for drama/storytelling purposes.

i have 31K written, and it will be a longer fic. But I'm impatient and depressed today, so have this. bearly beta'd. this will go on AO3 once the whole thing is done. (on about 50k from now)

The bus pulled into the parking lot across from the rink later than Mike expected by nearly an hour. The sky was overcast and cloudy, dark gray seconds from rain. 

Mike glared at the sky for a heartbeat before letting it go. There was no point in holding the sky accountable for the weather. The weather happened no matter what they wanted it to. 

The Greyhound was late, and now they were running late. At least they got to the rink when there was still time before the practice officially opened. But it was later than Mike had hoped for. So now, they would be rushing rather than getting food for Marisol before the practice and not missing anything on the ice. 

They had to be safe. They had to eat. They had to be good to sleep. 

But he also knew exactly what his priority was: ensuring Marisol ate. So while it hurt him that they would miss a few minutes of the practice, the food was more important. 

Mike was tired, hungry, and so, so ready to find someplace to sleep. He might be able to get some rest at the rink for a few hours at least. But first, he had to get them off the bus. 

He picked up Marisol's pink Peppa Pig-decorated bag and attached it to his rolling hockey bag before he moved her. She was still far too light, but then again: so was he. The last six months have sucked for them both. Fuck California. Mike missed his parents. He missed his life when he and Marisol were happy, healthy, and well fed. or at least better fed than the value menu at fast food restaurants. 

He had to get lunch when they got into the rink. Rinks always had a food stand. Churros and nachos were everywhere; cheaper than McDonald's anyway. Mike mentally went over the last of the funds he had. He had enough left to feed them for a few more days, but the money was almost out. He really didn't have much money left for travel. If they needed to go, it would be on foot. Or he didn't know what he would do. 

"Mikey?" Marisol sleepily murmured into his shoulder as Mike adjusted her weight. 

"Yeah, Mari?" 

"'m hungry." She muttered in Spanish, not moving her face from where it was plastered to his chest.  

"I know, Mari. We're getting food at the rink." Mike hoped he sounded just like his mother, as she said this many times. He was doing his best to sound like her when it came to Mari. She was three and was exhausted. He hated that they had to do this, but it was better than staying where they were. Why did his dad's parents have to pass away before Marisol was born? 

"K," She murmured before falling back asleep. Mike stared at her for a long moment centering himself. The bruises on her arms were mainly faded, but the last few months were long and tiring, and they both showed wear, especially after..... 

He would get her into a jacket once they were in the rink. 

He was too young, and he knew it. This was a lot for him, and he's overwhelmed. And God, this had to work. 

This is it. Mike left the bus stop with Marisol in one of his arms, and the other pulled his overpacked hockey bag. So the last week of running across the country on a Greyhound bus in hope and prayer all comes down to the next few days. 

Mike had to be correct. This was his last hope of them staying together. If this didn't work, if Mike wasn't right, he would lose his sister - the only person left to him. 

As they left the bus stop and crossed the street, Marisol didn't wake again. Mike breathed a sigh of relief. At least she could sleep through this and not see him panicking. 

The rink was cold, and Mike's shoulders loosened a little as he was assaulted by all the familiar sights and scents of a hockey rink. Even though this rink was one of the biggest and most modern he had ever been in. He was used to training in rinks much like this one. His parents had done everything they could to keep him skating, and he had always loved it. 

It had been months since he was in a rink. His Mama would be so upset—nothing to say of his Papi. Yet, both loved seeing him skate. 

They would be here if they could. Mike missed them; he paused for a second inside the doorway, feeling the grief and upset hover in his chest. He pushed them down. He didn't have time for the feelings right now. He would have time later. Not now. Not in the past six months. He had to make sure that Marisol was safe. 

If their parents were here, he and Marisol wouldn't have taken so many Greyhound and city buses over the last week to make it from Anaheim to Pittsburgh. Actually, to the practice rink just outside Pittsburgh. 

He passed the main desk and headed to the rink that had most people near it. That was probably the rink where the team was. 

At the sight of the ice and the few players already warming up in black and gold, Mike took a deep breath. 

God, he hoped he was right. It was such a long shot, but it's all he's got. 

If he's not…. then… he's going to the police when the money runs out and making sure Marisol is safe. The foster system must be better than where they came from. Pennsylvania just won't send them back to California. Or at least it won't send them back to Aunt Cynthia and Rodger effortlessly at least. 

He might get in massive trouble for essentially kidnapping his sister, but it was safer than where they had last been, and Mike wasn't going to stop a little thing as legality prevented him from keeping his sister safe. 

So. 

Now what's left is to find the courage to actually tell an NHL superstar that he might be Mike's biological father. 

He fidgeted with the nearly dead phone in his pocket; it was not his. His phone was left on the table near the bed in his aunt's house; it had no use except to be a tracker for his aunt and her husband. Yet, the phone in his hands held so much: the only picture he had that might prove his story, The evidence of their injuries, their last photos as a family, their last pictures of Mama and Papi. 

He found an excellent place to sit and arranged the bags to be comfortable for Marisol to rest on. She transferred with little complaint. They were both very used to sleeping in weird places recently. He would leave to get food in a moment, but first, he had to see. 

He only sat down on the benches for a moment when a helmeted figure with 87 stamped across the back stepped onto the ice. Then all of Mike's attention that wasn't on Marisol was on Sidney Crosby.