#i feel like yeah light's scary in many ways but that when it comes to working in an office with him it's like

[13eyond13]

People hate on Light for many many (mostly valid) reasons, but you can't deny that he's so incredibly organized and so determined to handle most things by himself that being his admin or his receptionist or his assistant would probably be a dream

[yanderedrabbles]

Yandere Bouncer

You feel perfectly safe getting drunk and letting loose, especially with your favourite bouncer to keep an eye on you. Well, up until the night you realise that every party has a price. Tags: Simon "Ghost" Riley inspired, implied somno, 3.1k words

Y'know who you shouldn't trust as much as you do? Bouncers. Sure, most of them are great. Just trying to do their jobs, keeping people safe when the booze starts hitting too hard.

But not in your case. No, when it comes to you - the bubbly party girl who smiles at just about everyone - the yandere bouncer at your favourite club doesn't have such noble intentions.

He's a big guy. All the security guys are, but he's big even by those standards. Standard issue black t-shirt straining at the seams when he crosses his arms. Mean mug, always scowling at any drunk stupid enough to breathe the same air as him.

Girls and guys alike think he's hot, but no amount of liquid courage can stand up to his glare. Anyone who tries to flirt with him usually thinks better of it when they're less than two sentences in. He's not here to hook up in the bathroom or be a rebound situationship. He's here to work.

The first time he runs into you, he barely notices anything beyond your skirt. Short as hell, even by clubbing standards.

What, do you want every bastard in there to get an eyeful of your thong, sweetheart?

He doesn't say it out loud. Just scoffs and hands you back your ID. Doesn't bother to reply when you wish him a good night.

The second time he runs into you, you're a little tipsy already. Smiling up at him like you don't see the pierced eyebrow or the scowl. He's tempted to not let you in - club has a strict no pre-drinking policy - but then you bat your lashes at him and joke that pre-gaming is the only way anyone can have any fun at all in this economy.

He snorts and let's you pass. He doesn't fully recognise you - too many faces, too little light - but some subconscious part of him takes note of your perfume. Something bright and fruity that makes him think of summer punch and getting drunk on the beach.

You try and greet him before you leave, half hanging off your more sober friend. You yell something over your shoulder about having a good time and smiling more. He isn't sure what you're on about, but it's kind of cute the way you mumble a little when you're drunk.

He doesn't expect to see you again, nor does he expect to recognise you if he does. There's half a dozen clubs in this rotten city, and half a million pretty girls with too short skirts.

But he does.

Notices you standing in line because the people around you are cracking up, total strangers laughing at some lame joke you made. He let's his partner do most of the ID checks that night. Not really realising it, but wanting a chance to watch you.

Your jokes aren't that funny. You touch people too much. You've got a laugh that's a bit too loud. But people like you.

Total strangers chatting it up and smiling like they've met a celebrity.

He rolls his shoulders, cracks his knuckles. A few people in the front of the line flinch away from him. He doesn't bother reassuring them.

What is it about you? What makes you so magnetic?

When you're finally at the front of the line, you give his partner a megawatt grin and call her by her name. Ask how her shoulders holding up after that brawl last week.

You smile at him too, your fingers brushing his wrist when you take your ID back.

"Hey, Mr tall, dark and scary. How's the biz treating you?"

"The same as it was last week. Same as it's going to be next week," he grinds out.

You pat his arm - are you seriously touching him? You barley know him - and flash him that same beaming smile.

"Don't be so pessimistic, handsome. I see lots of booze and parties in your future."

He scoffs. "Yeah. I reckon just about anyone could figure that."

You aren't offended. You just wink at him and disappear, your new friends in tow.

When he finally goes on break, he asks his partner about you.

"Oh, she's sweet, isn't she? Don't think she's been coming here long though."

"Three weeks," he mutters. "She knows your name?"

His partner laughs and tosses her cigarette onto the pavement. "Guess so. Nice of her to ask, don't you think?"

He isn't sure what to think, honestly.

He doesn't see you for two weeks after that. And when you're finally back, he can't help asking you about it.

"Oh, I had work," you say with a shrug. "I'm very flattered that you noticed."

"Hard not to. There wasn't any commotion, so I figured you weren't around."

You giggle and slap his arm, as cheesy as a cheerleader in a slasher movie. Still, it's kind of nice. Girls don't really act that way around him. It's either shy or terrified. Bubbly and a little over the top is a nice change.

He watches you walk away, your skirt just as short as the first time he noticed you.

Damn, doll. You make it hard for a man to focus. Got my mind in the bloody gutter.

It's late when you finally stumble out of the club, your heels in one hand and your phone in the other. You're trying to order an Uber but your cracked and unresponsive screen doesn't mix well with your booze addled senses. He gives it five minutes before he intervenes.

He plucks the phone out of your hand and sighs when you sag against him, half murmured thank yous slurring against his sleeve.

Out past your bedtime, eh love?

"Where do you stay?"

You tell him, your eyes half closed and your forehead resting against his arm.

Telling a stranger your address? C'mon doll, you should know better than that.

He waits with you until your ride arrives, and then he walks you to the car. He takes note of the number plate, only half aware that he's doing it.

He leans on the roof, barring his teeth at the driver in something only half related to a smile.

"Drop her off safe, yeah?"

"Yeah, for sure," the man agrees, nodding like a bobble head. "Wouldn't think of messing with her."

I'll break your wrists if you even look at her wrong.

"Right. Have a good one."

He raps his knuckles on the roof and watches until the tail lights fade.

There's an itch at the back of his brain that he just can't get rid of. Some annoying, rebellious part of him that keeps thinking about how warm you felt when you leaned up against him. How you're just short enough that he can rest his chin on your head.

The itch doesn't go away.

He keeps thinking about you until the weekend rolls around. What the hell do you do for work? It's hard to picture you in corporate - not when he's seen how low your necklines go. Pitching up to meetings and HR presentations when just a few nights ago you were drinking shots off a stranger's back? Not fucking likely.

...Although you would look pretty great in one of those tight little pencil skirts. Yeah, you pert ass would probably have your coworkers breaking their necks.

He doesn't see you in line until it's almost midnight. You look a little out of it. Constantly checking your phone, a half frown puckering your perfectly gelled brows.

He wants to pull you out of line. He really does. Not to give you any fancy VIP treatment - he wouldn't mind it though, he'd like to spoil you a little - but to just talk.

He shakes his head like a bull until the urge isn't quite so loud. Unprofessional, that. Showing favouritism. Not fair to the other people waiting in line. Still...

When he does finally get to talk to you, you aren't yourself. You cover it up with a smile, but even he can tell it's a poor veneer.

"I'm meeting up with my ex," you tell him when he finally gets around to asking. (It takes awhile. Has your ID always been this interesting? Shiny patterns. Nice typeface they're using now. And your birthday is exactly six months after his. Cute).

He doesn't know what to say to that. Isn't sure how he feels about it, either. Why the hell are you meeting some douche who you were one hundred percent right to dump? (He assumes it was you who did the dumping. No man in his right mind would let you go, not even if you're the type to swing a knife around on bad days).

"Good luck," he manages at last. "Hope he isn't an ass."

You squeeze his arm when you leave and he feels the ghost of your fingers for the rest of the night.

Your ex is an ass. All that and more. He can tell from the too heavy cologne, the pretentious boat shoes, the obnoxious laugh.

You're on his arm, smiling but not entirely comfortable. What are you thinking? Entertaining this overly polished turd of a man?

He stops you before you leave. Leans down and brushes his lips against your hair.

"You sure you're okay to go home with this guy?"

You give him a quick nod and a grateful smile.

He straightens, angry but not entirely sure why. He watches you walk away, his right hand clenching and unclenching around his radio until the veins stand out on his forearm.

You could do better than that, doll. You could be doing me.

He ends up finding your ex's name. Entirely on accident, swear. Finger slipped and before he knew it he was watching the CCTV footage of the front door, pausing when the guy's ID got flashed to the camera.

And now that he has that info, it's only logical that he checks him out on social media. You're a valued customer. He needs to be sure that the people you're associating with are safe.

Oh, and this guy isn't safe at all. Party animal, pussy hound. Sure, there's a pic or two of you together, but most of his profile is dedicated to shots of raves and cocktails and pretty girls.

You deserve better, don't you know that? Someone who can keep you safe when you're drunk, who can keep an eye on you when the clubs you like are filled with dark corners and shady drinks.

He's going to ask you out. It's only half decided - most of his brain pulling him one way and most of his cock pulling him the other. His heart split somewhere in the middle.

He's gonna be good for you, he knows it. Get rid of that overblown and overrated ex. Teach you which drinks are hopelessly overpriced and which ones are worth the cash. Not going to change you, no. That's what insecure men try and do when their girl likes to let loose on the weekends. No, he likes you just as you are. You need a bit of muscle to lean on, that's all.

But when the weekend rolls around, all his plans go swirling down the gutter. You're on your ex's arm again. Smiling too quick, laughing too sharp. But with him all the same.

C'mon doll, thought you were smarter than that.

You don't get a chance to chat. Your ex drags you straight into the club, barely waiting to get his ID back.

He wants to trade shifts. Abandon door duty and follow you around inside.

He doesn't. He snaps at the patrons and he bites his tongue bleeding and he clenches his fist until his nails dig into his skin, and he manages to not follow you.

The best decision to make, after all.

Your ex waits until the night is almost over to finally make his move. Or at least that's how it looks.

When he walks out of the club with his arm around your waist, it's clear that you're totally out of it. Barely standing on your own two feet, hair hanging forward and hiding your face.

He stops you. Of course he does. He's seen you tipsy and he's seen you blackout, but he's never seen you this bad.

Your ex tries to brush it off.

"She didn't have any head for the shots, that's all."

He doesn't buy it. Tilts your chin up and shines his torch in your eyes.

There it is. The fucking bastard.

Your pupils are blown out wide, not contracting at all even with his torch burning right into your retinas.

He knows you. Better than he'd like to admit. And he knows you don't party this hard.

He straightens and looks down at your ex with thinly veiled disgust.

"She's not going home with you."

The man laughs. "She's my girlfriend. 'Course she is."

He smiles. Or shows his teeth at least.

"She's. Not. Going. Anywhere."

The man freezes for a second, and then his smile turns nasty. "Who the fuck are you to decide who goes home with who?"

He wants to punch your ex in the throat.

He doesn't. Just looks at him, fingers curling into a fist almost as big as your head. Your ex is drunk, he's not as sharp as he would be sober. But his instincts aren't so dull that they don't recognise what's in front of him.

He's a bouncer, true. But more than that, he's a fighter.

Your ex can see it in the way he stands, can see it in the eyes that move too quick to follow.

And he's not just a fighter. He's a man with a whole lot to fight for.

Your ex licks his lips, too stupid to shut up.

"I'll call the cops on you, asshole."

The bouncer laughs. The first time anyone around here has ever heard it.

It's not a pleasant sound.

"Go ahead," he snarls softly, "Call them. And when they show up, why don't you also tell 'em the reason why your girlfriend is all shot up with special K, hmm?"

"She isn't -

"Don't even try it."

He wraps an arm around your waist and pulls you away from your ex. The bastard at least has the sense to not fight him.

Your boyfriend starts going on about calling the club owner, getting him fired. But he doesn't bother listening - it all fades to nothing when he holds you.

There, the way it's 'sposed to be.

You're warm, burning up with a fever. (How hot does your cunt feel if your hands are already scorching?) He needs to get you checked out. Needs to make sure whatever shit your ex snuck you isn't mixing with the alc.

You blink up at him, a small smile tugging at your lips. (Your lipstick would look so fucking good staining his cock).

"Mr tall, dark and scary. Gonna get me home again?"

He nudges you in the direction of the parking lot and you stumble, hands knotting in his shirt.

"Even better, doll. Gonna take you home myself."

You close your eyes the second he straps you into his passenger seat. It takes a minute or two to shake you awake.

He isn't an EMT, but working clubs means knowing all the signs of an overdose. You're on the verge of passing out, but you're not in any real danger. Breathing regular, heartbeat fast but not concerningly so. Lucky. Things could have gone a whole lot worse. As it stands, all you're going to suffer tomorrow is a bit of nausea and one killer headache.

He brushes the hair out of your eyes and smiles when you lean your face into his palm.

"You're totally out of it, aren't you? Won't remember a thing come morning."

You hum quietly, lips brushing his pulse.

"The hell am I 'sposed to do with you? You don't even have your keys on you."

He sighs and closes the passenger door. No help for it - he's going to have to take you to his place. (You, in his bed, where you belong).

You don't complain when the engine guns to life. A little beyond the realm of registering those sorts of things.

And you don't complain when he carries you up to his apartment, your head in the crook of his neck.

He doesn't mean to undress you. He's a lot of things, but not a degenerate. It's just when he finally lays you down on his sheets, it's clear that the straps on your dress are cutting into your. Gonna leave marks that burn in the morning.

Getting you out of your dress is the responsible thing to do. And if it has his cock twitching, well, that's just coincidental.

You're in matching lace underwear.

He fists the blanket until he stops thinking of beating your asshole ex into a dirt.

She was gonna give it to you anyway, you bastard. You didn't have to drug her.

He breathes out through his nose. Once. Twice. Calm down, focus on the here and now. Deal with that bastard later.

There. Much better. And look at you, burrowing down into his pillows. Do you like the smell of him, is that what this is?

He undoes your bra and tosses it over his shoulder to join your dress and heels.

Didn't he once hear that it's unhealthy to sleep with a bra on? Increases the risk of cancer or something. Yeah, that's why he took it off. For the sake of your health.

He watches you for a while. The steady rise and fall of your chest, the flickering behind your eyelids as you start to dream.

He should take a picture or two. It would be a shame not to. And what you don't know can't hurt you, right? All pretty in his bed. God knows the girls he brings home never get the chance to sleep. This is a rare thing, worth documenting.

The flash doesn't bother you. Maybe a few more. Just to make sure they're good quality. Don't want to look back tomorrow and realise the pics are all blurry.

Just a few more. Maybe a video.

You look good, but you'd look even better without your panties in the way. They ruin the view.

He hooks his thumb under the band and slips them off, his fingers almost brushing your cunt.

There. So much better.

He swallows and puts his phone down, some part of him screaming at him for being a bastard. Another part screaming at him for not being a big enough bastard to take what he wants.

"You're too sweet to end up in a stranger's bed, doll. Getting fucked when you're too out of it to remember."

The streetlight outside his window washes you in alternating stripes of dark and light. He leans down and runs a hand up your thigh. Soft skin, like a peach right before you sink your teeth in.

"So it's a good thing we're not strangers."

[loveindefinitely]

༊*·˚ NEED TO LISTEN TO ME — price is disappointed in you and your other three lovers, and finds that some 'training' is in order

read on ao3.

featuring. simon 'ghost' riley + johnny 'soap' mactavish + kyle 'gaz' garrick + john 'bravo six' price

warnings. nsfw, fem!reader, fmmmm, poly tf141, ANGRY sex, mean dom price, angst, degradation, minor dom/sub, light humiliation, orgasm denial, dacryphilia, minor spit play, minor blood play (not really), rough sex, price orders EVERYONE around, price-centred, whiny johnny and gaz agenda

// NSFW CONTENT UNDER THE CUT //

You weren't scared of many things at this point in your life.

Being a signal officer for the military certainly aided that statement, but it was more the fact that you had four guard dogs in the form of the most seasoned special forces operatives you've ever known. Four very large, very scary men that you'd somehow found yourself lucky enough to get to call your partners.

Both on, and off, the field.

That being said, there was one thing you were terrified of. Like, to your bones, petrified.

And that thing had a name.

John Price.

He was formally the captain of your force for a reason, but he was also informally the captain of your relationship, as well. The one you all looked to in the most difficult of moments, the one that held reason and guidance above all.

It's been that way since the five of you met, and remains the same to this day.

Nonetheless.

It was a known fact between you, Soap, Ghost and Gaz that none of you liked seeing the man mad. You four could count on one hand the amount of times you'd witnessed it, all of which having been directed at either his superiors or an enemy.

But. Right now, in this office, seated on the small couch between your three lovers?

Yeah. You don't fear many things.

But John Price's disappointment is quite easily in your top three, and this situation only cements it.

"He's probably ordering our caskets," Gaz murmurs wistfully, eyes wide as he stares at his foot, tap-tap-tapping against the wooden floor. It's a nervous tic that gives him away too easily, but even with your hand on his knee, it doesn't seem able to quit.

You exhale a deep breath, squeezing your eyes shut. "I hope he gets me a cute one," you mumble back, tone matching the resignation that clouds your captain's office.

"You four. My office."

Those were the only words Price had spoken to you guys, before marching off to a meeting with Laswell.

To say that you and your lovers were mortified was the biggest understatement of the century.

Even Ghost, sat perfectly still, expression perfectly neutral beneath his mask, oozes trepidation like it's the carbon dioxide he exudes with every breath.

"I know 'm 'n tha military, but I still don't wanna die, ya know?" Soap whines, his head flung back and blue eyes glued to the roof as his hands shake in his lap.

You guys must look like unruly students sat outside of your principal's office to any onlookers, and it should be embarrassing.

It would be, if you could feel anything but mortal peril.

You're about to quip a reply to Soap, when the door clicks open, and the three of you sit ramrod straight, Ghost not moving from his already perfect posture.

Price steps in, the door shutting closed behind him.

The silence is a tangible force, and your mouth is so dry, you'd think you were in a desert, not in your lover's office.

His footfalls echo around the modest space, before he leans against his wooden desk, folding his arms over his chest, before directing his furious gaze to you four.

"When I give orders," he starts, and oh god, his tone, it's so unbelievably firm, "I expect my team to follow them."

There's no response, except for the overwhelming quiet coming from the usually passionate and comforting presence that underlies your entire dynamic.

Price clears his throat, meeting all of your eyes one by one. You wonder if you can see the glassiness of yours, the barely restrained tears.

"So why," he begins, before swallowing once more, determination settling in, "Did all four of my teammates rush into an unstable building after being ordered to keep out?"

You know it's not just the anger of a captain's orders being refused.

It's the anger of a lover having to watch all four of his partner's risk their death, while he can do nothing but watch from the scope of a sniper rifle.

The clock on the wall above the door ticks, and none of you make a sound.

Price grabs a pack of cigars from his pocket, quickly sliding one out, placing it between his lips, and shoving the pack back into his slacks. He then pulls out a lighter from his back pocket, lighting the tobacco, before exhaling his first breath of smoke.

In any other situation, you or Gaz would be chastising him, telling him to stop smoking, or to at least do it outside.

Neither of you say a word.

Rubbing at the furrow between his brows, Price then drifts his eyes to Ghost, the only one who hasn't said a word since the mission.

"What the fuck were you thinking?" Price says on a deep exhale, shaking his head. There's hurt there, genuine pain, and your heart stutters in your chest at the sight. "You're my lieutenant, Simon. I thought you'd at least 'ave the brains to listen to me when I make an order."

Ghost's hand tightens where it sit on his cargos, and even with his mask on, you can tell that a disgruntled frown lays beneath it.

"And you, Soap," he looks at the man to your right, now, and you can physically see him deflate at the disappointment in his captain's eyes. "Disrespecting authority is cute 'nd all, until it's me, mate."

Those words feel like a physical wound, even to you, and judging my Soap's crestfallen expression, for him, it must hurt tenfold.

And, then, it's your turn.

His mouth is set in a grim line, and you hope that he can see the regret, the genuine sorrow you feel at disappointing and -- and scaring your captain. Your lover.

"What were you thinking?" He asks, and your mouth wants to open, but it's as if there's an invisible force pinning it shut. "You weren't even supposed to step foot on enemy grounds, and you knew that."

And it's true. Your role is mainly with communications and technical supplies, not actual combat. You were trained, yes, but it has never been your role.

But you'd seen Soap rush in, Ghost trailing after him, yelling, and then Gaz not long after, and it was like your mind shut out any rational lines of thinking. There was no rationale when it came to your partners.

That was a flaw. A genuine character fault, and Price was cementing that fact in this very room.

"Kyle," Price runs his hand down his face, cigar in between his middle and index fingers, "Kyle."

The pain, regret, the melancholy -- it's its own element in this room, its own being, and it feels as if it's choking you from the inside out. Like a gas leak, or a grenade stuck in your throat, about to go off.

Ghost, shockingly, is the first to speak.

"Captain," he grits out. Not 'old man'. Not 'love'.

Captain.

"We're aware of our... misgivings," he states, the words coming off of his tongue like hot coals he needs to rid off, lest his entire mouth burns.

Price nods, slowly, eyes narrowing at Ghost. It hits you, then, how your lover's just dug all of your graves in one sentence. Gaz seems to realise, too, his eyes going wide, exhaling a low, short breath in surprise.

"Sweetheart," he quips, standing up in the transition of one moment to the next, eyes snapping to your glassy ones. The endearment holds no warmth to it, for the first time, and your heart shatters where it beats in your chest, shards of glass embedding into the muscle surround it. "Get on the desk."

He says the words, and in the next movement, sweeps his arm over his desk, causing all of his papers, his pens, his folders, to go careening to the floor.

Soap mutters a curse under his breath, and Gaz winces.

On shaky legs, you stand, walking the short distance to the wooden surface and sitting on it with short pants of breath.

His large hand grips your chin in a tight grasp, tilting your head back and forcing the eye contact between you both.

He leans in, mouth mere millimetres away from your own, before speaking. You can taste the tobacco as he does. "I'm gonna let every single one of my subordinates fuck your disobedient cunt, and it's not gonna get any cum. Do you understand that order, sweetheart?"

It's cruel. Patronising, and so unbearably condescending, but you nod, a tear finally leaking down your cheek.

With a calloused thumb, he wipes it away in one stroke. "Save that for the actual punishment, operator."

And then, he steps back, and takes a seat in his chair, allowing him a full view of the other three still sat at the couch, and your position in his desk.

"This is a lesson on following your captain's orders," Price barks his order, like most other men of his rank would. It's a stone cold contrast to the gentle, comforting way he usual spoke to the four of you. His voice, now, holds no love, no underlying adoration lacing through his words. "You will follow every command I give you, and hopefully, this training will carry onto our future missions."

You're all aware that if it gets too much, one of you will utter the safeword you're all aware of -- the weight of it almost embedded into your beings.

Price knows it, too. And no matter how angry he is, he'll always put you all first, listen to you when you genuinely need to stop.

The feeling in the room has shifted from one of heavy disappointment, to an electrifying anger that has liquid heat melting to your core.

"Simon," Price snaps his fingers, and it's almost as if you're in a parallel universe, because the large man immediately stands. "Lay 'er down on the desk."

Ghost only needs to take two steps from the couch before he's standing in front of you, hand fisting into your hair, before somewhat gently pushing you to lay flat against the smooth surface. Your breathing is harsh, your chest moving in quick rises.

"Strip 'er down," Price orders, voice gravelly as he takes another deep inhale of his cigar, folding his leg so his left ankle rests on his right knee, legs spread wide. He fills out the chair with his frame, and it makes you shiver as Ghost gets to work peeling your clothes off of you.

When your heated skin feels the kiss of the cool air, you let out a haggard breath, head falling back to hit the wood as you clench your eyes shut.

Ghost goes to spread your thighs, before pausing, awaiting Price's directions like a dutiful dog.

You never thought you'd see the day.

"She's wet enough," Price shrugs, taking another drag of his cigar. "Fuck 'er."

Oh, fuck.

He wasn't lying, you were soaking, something about the fear unknowingly having your inner thighs sticky and core aching to be filled.

But... not getting prepped? At all?

Ghost makes a surprised grunt of a noise, pausing for a moment, before recollecting his senses and unbuckling his pants.

Oh. Fuck.

He's really, properly following Price's directions, like the man had demanded. The guilt was eating all of you alive, and that festered in Simon's actions.

His deep brown eyes flick to yours, before he unzips his fly with one hand, gaze not moving from yours. There's slight apology in them, only a hint, before he leans down to spit on your cunt.

You inhale a sharp breath at the act, squeezing your eyes shut as his dick presses against your heat, rubbing against it slightly.

Then, he pushes in -- it makes you cry out, breath hitching as the tip enters. It's a tight fit, but he continues to push in, and it's almost as if you can feel the intrusion, the pressure in your chest.

"So you can follow orders, huh?" Price quips, almost nastily, and it has you shuddering as Ghost's hips finally flush against your own. You don't think you've ever taken any of them without foreplay, and it's a special form of torture. The pressure is almost too much, his cock filling you up so much.

Simon's head hangs between his shoulders, muscles tense as he stares down at you, the epitome of self-restraint.

He always was the most controlling one, the most calculating.

Not today, however.

That title easily belongs to Price, who merely relaxes further into his seat, as if he wasn't just mere feet away from the two of you.

"I said fuck her, Riley. Not stand there and keep it warm."

He's so fucking. He's fucking cruel about this, fully willing and wanting to make this hurt. It's so completely unlike the man you love, and it's psychologically damning in a way nothing else could be.

But, like directed, Simon fucks you.

He stops trying to be kind about it, stops wallowing in guilt. It's rough, forceful, urgent, unlike the way he usually liked to savour your pleasure, your pain. He usually delighted in the smooth, deep strokes, prolonging the passionate act almost vindictively.

No. Now, it's quick, punishing thrusts, and your head falls back and little moans escape your throat.

It's like you've both forgotten that Soap and Gaz sit on the couch, watching, waiting. Price has likely made it that way on purpose, to make them envy the attention you and Ghost are getting.

"Fuck," you moan, tits bouncing as Simon continues to fuck you relentlessly, harsh in his movements.

"Does he feel good?" Price is standing, and when you open glassy eyes, it's to see his face looking down at you. If you had the mind to, you'd flinch under his criticizing expression. "Answer me."

You nod, shakily, and when his brows narrow, you rush out a verbal response. "Yes, yes, he does!"

Price hums a noncommittal sound, before his hand slides down your stomach, leaving your hairs to stand on end, before his fingers reach your clit. In tight circles, he has you on the edge almost immediately, and you cry out.

"Gonna fuckin' cum," Ghost grunts, voice low as his eyes clench tight.

"Aww, you two close?" Your captain's voice is gruff, all too condescending, and just before you can find your release, his hand leaves your clit, and wraps around Ghost's neck. He leans into his ear, and his whisper is loud enough for everyone to hear. "Pull out."

Simon makes a noise suspiciously close to a whimper, and it's so unlike him that it has your eyes opening wide, before he does just as Price ordered.

He pulls out.

"Seriously?" You groan, filter eviscerated like your high was. You lean up, using your elbows for leverage.

Price raises one brow, before scratching at his beard almost absent-mindedly. "Got a complaint, sergeant?"

You shake your head, lightning quick, like a puppet on a string.

That's what you were right now -- what all of you were. Just puppets in whatever acts Price wanted to see you all star in.

It's exhilarating in the worst of ways.

"Soap, Gaz," Price snaps once more, and Ghost is nothing more than a neglected mutt. Which, really, is almost funny considering the amount of times the man teases you, Soap and Gaz about such a comment. You couldn't count the amount of times he's compare you three to 'needy puppies'.

Now, he was nothing more than that, and you wish you could enjoy that fact more.

The two men adhere to the command, radiating nervous energy as they stand to attention, not unlike they would if they were in a standard military unit.

"Gaz, take her mouth," Price demands, before his hand buries in the short hair near the nape of Soap's head with a mean grip, meant to hurt. Soap barely hides a whine as Price tugs him, forcing the man to his knees as if he's nothing more than the mutt Ghost usually refers to him as. "You, lick 'er clean."

You realise, then, what exactly this is.

It's truly a display of power. Of control. Because you four took that away from him on the field, unrightfully so. There truly is thought behind his anger, his pain.

It only makes the ache in your heart burn, makes it bruise and bleed where the shattered pieces cut and embed into the innerworkings of your body.

This 'training' won't make up for what you four pulled. Not in the slightest.

But it's something to let John get some of his emotions out, in a somewhat healthier way than you lot usually resorted to.

You'd always offer your support, offer yourself, and he knows that.

He's deliberately taking away that option for you, taking control to comfort the side of him that is so deeply ingrained, so deeply relied on for him to live.

You love him. So effortlessly.

Those words remain accurate, even as Johnny first licks over your wet pussy, and Kyle's dick bumps against your lips.

Opening your mouth without a thought, Kyle's tip slips in, his pre-cum salty on your tongue as you flatten your tongue against it. Johnny's as enthusiastic as ever, maybe even more than usual, as he delegates all of his attention to your aching warmth.

John's grip doesn't release from Johnny's hair, shoving his closer against you, and the sight is so hot that you wish you could fully, properly enjoy it.

Another time, when you're all in better spots, happy and unapologetic, you'll ask them to re-enact the scene.

Johnny moans against your pussy, hands coming up to grip at your bare thighs, and you just know there'll be finger-shaped bruises come tomorrow morning. He's always been unaware of his strength, not understanding the proper damage he can inflict, especially in the bedroom. It's attractive as all hell.

"Yeah? She taste good, hm?" John nearly snarls, and you let out a drawn out moan at the pleasure and words. The sound is muffled by Kyle pushing in deeper, having you almost gagging on his length.

Your eyes flutter shut at the onslaught of feelings, but even with no sight, you can feel Simon's eyes on you like a physical weight.

You know what position he's in, without having to look. Leaning against the wall with a furious expression, large arms folded over his bulky chest. Maybe he's pulled off his mask, maybe it's just been hooked over his crooked nose.

"Fuck, cap," Kyle groans, bucking into your throat. "So fuckin' good--"

Johnny muffles a whine as his efforts nearly double, and you swear spots colour the darkness of your vision. You're already there, and it's not like you can say anything, with Kyle abusing your mouth like this.

"She's close, ain't she, Johnny? Feel her clenchin' on your tongue?" John taunts, and you can feel Johnny nod against your core, nose brushing your clit as he does.

John huffs a cruel laugh, before he abruptly pulls Johnny away by the scruff of his neck. You can't help by buck up, searching for touch, but none comes.

"Kyle," John's tone is one requiring no resistance, and with a shaky exhale, Kyle pulls out of your mouth, a string of spit clinging to his dick, before snapping and leaving your cheek covered with a line of it.

You shakily open your eyes, your pussy begging for a release, knowing that you won't get one. Not yet.

"You make a mess, you clean it up," John says.

So, Kyle leans down, his tongue licking over the spit trail, and really it should be disgusting.

Instead, it only makes you wetter.

Your thighs incessantly shake, no hint of stopping as your body aches. The emotional turmoil, mixed with the physical kind -- it's a concoction for torture.

With half-lidded eyes, you watch as John forces Johnny's head in between your breasts, pressing his face into them. It must be almost suffocating, but Johnny manages to whine as you feel John's hand wrap around Johnny's dick, positioning it against your twitching hole.

"Rut into her," John orders, before stepping back.

Johnny does just that -- he thrusts in, bottoming out with one push. Your moan sounds too alike to a squeal at the stretch, the sudden intrusion. Your arms wrap around his back, nails scratching lines down Johnny's back as he thrusts into you almost manically. You're sure that you're drawing blood, but it only seems to encourage the man rutting into you further, his thrusts urgent and feral.

"Jesus christ," someone -- you're sure it's Kyle -- murmurs, and you suddenly want to know what you must look like from a spectator. Ruined, probably.

Your breaths are harried as you feel yourself getting close once more, tears burning at the corner of your vision at the pure need coursing through your veins.

"Please," you whimper, squeezing like a vice around Johnny's dick. "Please, oh god."

"Now you want me to make decisions? Let you two cum?" There's a hand in your hair, and in any other situation, it'd be calming.

Currently, it feels like a thinly veiled threat.

"Please, John, 'm so sorry, please," you beg, eyes blurry as you look up into the man's stormy blue eyes.

Usually, they're comparable to a calm ocean, the beach mid-summer.

Now, they're akin to the darkest of storms, the ones sailors whisper about, the ones that haunt them while they're asleep at sea. Ones that cause shipwrecks to wash up on shores, ones that cause stories to be passed between campers on the scariest of nights.

"Now you're sorry, sweetheart?" And, oh, there's a sliver of the warmth you've come to crave, and it almost has you melting where you lay.

You're so close, you can taste it on your tongue, and your moans get louder, needier, more frantic --

"Stop, Johnny."

Tears fall, then. Hot and heavy down your cheeks, leaving sticky tracks in their wake. Hiccups fall from your lips as you sob from the deprevation.

Johnny whines, head drooped low as he stops, and you can feel him pulse inside of you, both of you at your wits' end.

"You follow orders so well in this room, don't you?" John says. The voice of a captain.

It's almost your last straw. The devastation is too great, the mix of physical and emotion stress weighing on you heavily.

"'M so sorry, shoulda listened," you cry, body trembling.

"John, please, we're sorry," Kyle insists, a furrow between his dark brows where he takes a step closer to you and Johnny.

Simon, although silent, is also closer to you both now than he had been, no longer stood against the wall.

Your boys -- they're so inherently protective, and it's such a nice feeling. No matter how guilty they feel, how genuinely sorry, they can't stand to see you or Johnny so weak, so vulnerable.

Love. You love them, in a way words can never describe.

John exhales. A deep, thoughtful one.

"We're talking about this, after we're all cleaned up," he says. It's the first hint of himself that you've heard tonight, and the relief is like an intoxicating drug.

It's like even the room itself takes a deep breath, dispelling of some of the tension lining every inch of it.

"Off 'er," John snaps his fingers, and Johnny pulls out with a small whimper, head still hung low.

Grabbing your hips, John flips you over, making you bend so your face is to the desk and your ass is in the air. His large hand presses against your lower back, bending you into an arch.

He slides in, and it's an easy entry. You don't think you've been more wet in your life, and gods, you need it.

Setting a ruthless pace immediately, every thrust forces a whimper, a moan, a whine out of your mouth, eyes dazed as your cheek presses against the wood. His hand fists into your hair, forcing your head to face the three men stood side by side, watching you both with a flurry of emotions behind heavy stares.

"Feel so fuckin' good, christ," John seethes, his grip tightening in your hair, causing your moan to become louder as it leaves your lips.

It isn't long before you're at that cliff once more, begging for a final push, just so you can reach that finish you ache for.

"Gonna, fuck, please, let me cum, John, I love you, I'm so sorry," your words aren't fully your own, and they come out in a desperate plea.

"Yeah? My girl gonna cum for me? Needy slut."

Those words are your undoing, your nirvana.

You cum, body strung tight as tears fall down your cheeks once more, your vision nearly blacking out with the strength of your orgasm. It's almost painful, the stimulation altogether too much, and not enough.

John finishes not long after, his cum filling you up with a loud groan from him.

He releases his fist in your hair, and you head falls to the desk, body slumping with the final release of pleasure.

Stroking a smoothing hand down your back, he pulls out, and you can feel his seed leaking down your thighs. You must be a sight -- all worn out and dripping with the white liquid.

"We don't getta cum?" Johnny whines, and you can hear the roll of Simon's eyes.

There's a hand stroking stray hairs off of your face, and from the texture and size of the limb you can tell it's Kyle.

"You won't get to tomorrow, either, if you keep tha' up," Price mutters, and you let out a delusional giggle at his words. You're cum-drunk, almost, from how drawn out your orgasm had been.

"We really are sorry, Cap," Kyle murmurs genuinely, and the hurt is a sharp barb on his tongue. "You know we love you, didn't mean to hurt you."

John releases a long, worn-out breath. "I know that. I do. But you're a bunch of reckless muppets 'nd you fuckin' went too far today. I'm your captain, lover or not."

"We'll talk it over later," Simon states, and you can't help but agree with the sentiment.

You will. And it'll be a painful conversation, but one that you all owe to your captain.

Because, at the end of the day, you four would do anything for the man that you love. That includes the tough words, the difficult exchanges.

John presses a chaste kiss to your forehead, and with complete certainty, you're sure that you're all going to be okay.

a/n. the day that i stop loving poly 141 is the day that i die. price needs all the love omg this one kinda hurt to write cause oof angst but hopefully it was an enjoyable read!!!! thank you to everyone who comments on my fics, your notes etc make me do a lil happy dance ily all!!!!!!!!!!!!

[whitexwolfxx310]

|| What’s Your Favorite Scary Movie? ||

Pairing: Bucky x female reader

Summary: After accidentally revealing that you have a masked man kink, Bucky starts taking it to the next level.

Warnings: Smut- MDNI please!, oral sex (both ways!!), edging?, masturbation (F), praise kink, cursing, light stalking, breaking in, harassing texts/calls, and lots of angst.

Word Count: 4.3

A/Ns: Hi babes! This was going to be a short story but she came out kinda long, so I'm going to make it a 2 parter. Don't judge me 🙈 I looove masked men. I hope you enjoy reading it as much as I did writing it. This is also my first time getting more explicit with smut so don't judge me too harshly! xoxo

Snuggled up to Bucky under a comfy blanket with a bowl of extra buttery and salty popcorn, lights turned all the way down, you finally convinced him to watch the movie Scream. While you’ve seen it many times before and are aware of all the jump scares, you still cling onto him a little extra tight in preparation while he is completely unphased. About halfway through the movie, you hear Bucky snort.

“What?” You ask, looking up at him slightly. His face is illuminated by the glow of the tv.

“Something you want to tell me, Doll?” One side of his mouth is tugged up in amusement.

“Bucky, what the fuck are you talking about?” Confused, you sit up to look at him.

He just shakes his head, grinning, “I’m talking about how every time a masked man comes on that screen,” he points to the tv, “you press those pretty little thighs of yours together.”

Your cheeks instantly flush, “You noticed that?”

“I pay attention to everything when it comes to my girl.” Bucky leans back more, resting his arm on top of the couch still grinning, “Tell me about it.” His eyes narrow slightly, something a bit darker lurking, intrigued by this knowledge.

“I don’t know… it’s just like,” you brush your hair behind your ears suddenly feeling embarrassed, “kind of like a kink? A fantasy maybe? There’s just something so dark and exhilarating about an unknown man behind a mask that stalks and is obsessed with you. The anonymity of it I guess?”

By the time you’re done explaining, your hands unknowingly gripped and crossed your chest. Blinking rapidly, you let go and focus back on Bucky who is just watching you intensely.

He nods and purses his lips lightly, “Maybe if I keep watching this movie, I’ll want a masked man for myself,” He teases.

“Oh, shut the fuck up!” You grab a fistful of popcorn and throw it at him, sending you both into a laughing frenzy.

"You're cleaning that up, not me." Bucky laughs.

Him and his messes.

He scoops you in close to his body to finish the movie, and later that night he showed you that no masked man from a movie could ever compare to him.

Three weeks later.

While trying to grab your phone and keys out of your bag, you accidentally drop the stack of mail you had just picked up from the landlord’s office on the doormat.

“Shit!” You mutter to yourself. Bending down to pick it up, something catches your eye. Your apartment door is cracked open.

You stand up, discarding the mail and push open the door, “Hello?” You call out, “Bucky?” There’s no response.

Taking a few steps in, nothing looks out of place or any evidence that someone seems to have broken in. You start going through each room, keeping your phone firmly in your hand just in case. But there’s nothing. Walking out of the bedroom you decide you’re going to call Bucky to see how far away he is since he was on his way over, when you find him standing in the kitchen.

“OH! Fuck me-” You jump at the sight of him and grab your chest.

“Hey, Doll!” Bucky says, like the perfect golden retriever boyfriend that he is.

“Did you just get here?” You ask, your heart still pounding.

“Yeah, why?” he asks curiously, absentmindedly grabbing an apple from the fruit bowl off the kitchen counter and taking a bite.

“Um, yeah me too. It’s just-”

“Just… what?” He takes another bite.

“It’s just that... my door was open when I got here?”

“What?” Bucky’s face instantly changes, his eyes wide and anxious, “Go wait in the hallway until I look around.”

“I already did that-”

“Please?” He pleads as he throws out his barely eaten apple, already coaxing you towards the door.

Crossing your arms, you go and wait in the hallway while he looks around. After a few minutes he brings you back in.

“Everything looks to be fine, but I’m going to stay the night just in case.” You breathe a sigh of relief at Bucky’s words.

“Maybe maintenance came in and forgot to lock back up. I was having all those issues with my heater a few months ago,” You try justifying.

“Yeah maybe,” he says, with a small shrug of his shoulders.

About a week later is when the phone calls started.

Initially it was just 1 or 2 a day from a restricted number that you never picked up, assuming it was some kind of solicitation about your car’s extended warranty. But no voicemail was ever left.

As a few weeks went by though, it started to feel like borderline harassment. The number of phone calls jumped to an average of twenty times a day.

Sitting at your work desk your phone continued to violently vibrate, the words Unknown Caller lit up on the screen. You ran your hands through your hair, letting them linger on your scalp, starting to feel stressed every time your phone rang.

"Hey babes!" Hailee, your coworker/bff storms unannounced into your office, "You ready to grab some lu- oh my god. Are they calling you right now?" Obviously aware of the situation, she scurries around your desk in her too high heels and answers your phone. Clearing her throat, "Hi, thank you for calling Tammy's Whorehouse where we suck and fuck. How can I help you?" She taps an inpatient finger on her hip, waiting for a response and then the line goes dead.

Your hands fall down into your lap with an exacerbated breath, "No one ever answers."

"Have you tried tracking the number?" She puts the phone down and sits on top of your desk.

"I've tried calling my cell service, they can't do anything about it. If it keeps up, I just might change my number." You shake your head, "This is going to sound so dumb, but it has me so distracted. Apparently, I've been forgetting to charge my phone at night too? I swear I put it on the charger but then it dies in the night and that's why I've been late to work a few times."

Hailee tilts her head to the side, giving a sympathetic frown. "Sorry, girl. Hey!" She tries perking up, "Why don't we go get lunch and iced coffees? My treat?!" Her bright smile and shimmying shoulders get you to crack a smile. Jumping off your desk she claps her hands, "Yay!"

Suddenly there's a knock at your office door. Both of you stop the mini-iced coffee celebration and snap your attention to the nervous, uniformed teenager standing in the doorway.

"Delivery." he says shyly, looking between the two of you.

Hailee raises an eyebrow and smirks, looking you up and down, "Well, it wasn't delivered to my office."

You roll your eyes as you get up, smoothing your skirt down. Walking up to the boy, he quickly hands you a rather large bouquet of flowers. The intoxicating floral aroma hits you almost immediately, you cannot help but be astounded by the arrangement. Each individual flower is rather large, some darker than others; Ombres of red and burgundy into black.

"They're beautiful," You admire, inhaling deeply. "I don't think I've ever seen these before. Do you know what kind of flowers they are?" You ask the teen curiously.

"Black dahlia's," he recalled, and your stomach felt like it dropped with the mention of the name. "I don't think we've ever gotten a request for those at my family's shop before. That's the only reason I remember," he shrugged.

"Does Bucky have a brother? Because like, are you kidding me right now?" You glanced at Hailee who was making an over-the-top pouty face.

Asking the teen if he had CashApp to tip him, you quickly ushered him off. Searching through the flowers to see if there was a card or any indication that they were in fact from Bucky, but there wasn't.

That night, Bucky came over for dinner. He brought take out from a local Greek place that he really liked, but you were distracted. Just pushing the food around on your plate.

"You okay, doll?" His forehead puckered slightly in question.

"Yeah, um," You shake your head to try and focus, "Hey, thanks for the flowers today. That was super sweet and unexpected," considering you've been kinda stressed.

"Flowers? What flowers?" Bucky's posture stiffens.

"I got flowers delivered to me at work today, I just assumed it... was from you? Maybe it was a mistake then." There were suddenly mixed emotions being stirred around in a frenzy. If Bucky wasn't the one who sent the flowers, then who did? You tried saying they were dropped in your office by accident, but it just didn't feel right. It felt intentional.

"Well, honey, I don't know who it was, but it wasn't me." Bucky stands up from the kitchen table, grabbing his dinner plate. "Are you done?" He asks gesturing to your plate. You nod and he takes it as well, "But it's something I should do, and I'll be more conscious of it. I'm sorry,"

"No, Buck I wasn't-"

His lips press to the top of your head, "No, you're right. If anyone should be doing it, it should be me. Let me take the garbage out for you and we'll have the night to ourselves, yeah? Anything you want."

"Anything?" You repeat, in singsong with a grin.

He shakes his head, scraping the scraps from the plates into the garbage returning the grin, "I like where this is going," Tying off the bag, he holds up two fingers, "give me two minutes," he opens the door to the apartment and starts jogging down the hallway, "two minutes!!" you hear him call out.

The door to the apartment doesn't even fully shut before you hear the familiar buzz coming from your bag. Letting out an annoyed sigh, you angrily push away from the table and stomp over to the counter, dumping out your purse just to see Unknown Caller lit up on your phone.

You hit the green button so hard it doesn't register, so you do it again until it answers, "Hello?! What the FUCK do you want?!" No answer. But this time, you can hear someone breathing heavily. "You need some help. Seriously, leave me the fuck alone!" Hanging up, you slam the phone down onto the counter.

"Doll?" Bucky asks from the doorway, he sighs, "Was it that number bothering you again?"

"Yes!" You answer, flustered. "The next step is to just- change my number! I don't know what else to do."

Bucky steps in, closing in the door behind him with the back of his boot. His lips are pressed in tight line, "C'mere, darlin'," he holds his arms wide open, eyes soft. Dragging your feet, you meet him halfway and lay your head on his chest, "It's gonna be okay," he coos in your ear. "It's just some asshole with nothing better to do. They'll get bored soon enough. Worst case, we'll change your number. We can even go down to the store tomorrow and get you a new phone?" Bucky offers, trying to be optimistic as he caresses your arms up and down.

"I was just really hoping it wouldn't get to that point." You admit, pulling away from his chest just enough to look up at him.

"We'll do what we have to." Bucky smiles, cupping your chin between his thumb and pointer finger before pressing his lips to yours.

Letting your lips linger a moment as your eyes close, you inhale deeply, taking in the cypress scented soap still lingering on his skin from a shower he took earlier. It's your favorite. Hence why you keep buying it every time he runs out. Bucky's lips separate yours, and when just the tips of your tongues connect, a barely audible whimper escapes your mouth.

Like a gun starting a marathon, it was all Bucky needed to hear. Reaching down and gripping behind your thighs, he hoists you up. With a delighted squeak, you wrap your legs around his torso, laughing but keeping your lips on his as your hands run through his short hair. Using one hand flat against your lower back to keep you pressed into his chest, Bucky's other hand firmly grasped your ass. His fingers purposefully grazing the inseam of your jeans between your legs as he walked towards the bedroom.

Bucky sits on the edge of the bed, keeping you both upright. You break the mashing of tongues to re-adjust your position and straddle him. Leaning in, you suck his bottom lip into your mouth, letting your teeth graze just a tiny bit before letting go. Bucky exhales a drawn out, low groan before licking his lips. The look in his eyes is absolutely carnal as he tugs your shirt over your head and throws it across the room. Not even bothering with your bra, he just pulls the black lace cups down beneath your breasts, propping them up in exposure as he dips down to flick his tongue across your nipple.

Initially it makes you shudder, but as he continues to suck, nibble, lick, repeat, you find reprieve in grinding your hips down into the ever-growing bulge in his pants. Bucky lets out a stifled groan before switching his mouth to your other nipple. You smirk to yourself; you just love to tease this man. Although, if we're being honest, this isn't so easy on you right now either.

Roughly gripping both sides of his face, you bring his lips back to yours. You’re starting to feel needy for more of his touch. Becoming desperate to relieve this fuel lit fire. Bucky’s hands were firmly placed on each of your ass cheeks, assisting your already rolling hips forward and back. He snakes one hand between your bodies, slipping it down the front of your pants, his finger sliding once between your slit. You both moan loudly in unison into the kiss.

"Fuuuck..." Bucky breathed, tilting his head back just slightly that your lips pull apart. "You're already so fucking wet for me," his lascivious eyes lock onto yours, his breathing already becoming rather ragged.

Hearing his debauched voice, knowing just that single glide of his finger has him aching so badly, has ignited a new spark in you. "It's all yours, baby," you purred. Biting the bottom corner of your lip, you slowly get off his lap. Hooking each of your pointer fingers into the front pockets of Bucky's jeans, you encourage him to stand up as you drop to your knees before him.

As he's fumbling with the button and zipper, you stare up at him with tantalizing eyes, your hands firmly grazing along his muscular thighs. Once he's able to get it open, you help start to shimmy down his jeans and boxer briefs passed his hips until they pool on the floor. Bucky's thick, long cock springs up at almost eye level in enthusiasm, instantly making your mouth water. Sticking your tongue out as far as you possibly can, you lock eyes with Bucky and press the tip to your tongue, dragging it to a flick.

Sucking in a breath through his teeth, his body quivered at the first contact. You smile as you taste the initial saltiness on your tongue, licking your lips before hollowing out your cheeks and taking him into your mouth. Bucky exhales deeply, his head starting to tilt back but he stops, making sure he maintains eye contact with you. You draw back, pressing your tongue upward firmly, go forward, and go back again. After a moment, a rhythm gets going, you now move your tongue side to side as you bob front to back, sucking harder.

"That's it," Bucky coaxes, "That's my good fucking girl," a small whimper escapes your throat at his words of praise. You clamp your legs together a little tighter as it's getting harder to ignore the incessant throbbing and growing wet spot between your legs.

The next thing you know, his hands are in your hair, gathering it up into a makeshift ponytail. Grasping his shaft with your hand steadily, you use that to guide your mouth, twisting and gliding easily. You know it's his weakness. Bucky's hips start to buck up into your mouth as he pulls your head down further onto his throbbing cock. Through now teary eyes you’re determined to watch as his face starts to contort with pleasure, his moans music to your ears just as your gagging is to him.

"You look...Ahh...so...fucking...pretty," Each word comes out with a drive of his hips into your mouth. In the dim lighting of the room, completely blissed out on pleasure, he looks like a fucking god. And he's mine. The thought alone is enough to make you explode. "Ugh!" Bucky growls, "I can't take it anymore! C'mere!" With a small 'pop', he pulls out and grabs underneath your arms and tosses you onto the bed.

Giggling, you wipe the excess saliva off your swollen, red lips as you push back further onto the bed. Bucky pulls your jeans and panties down and off in one swift motion before kneeling onto the bed. His eyes are glazed over, solely focused on between your legs. He crawls upward, and it's purely feline as he dips down, his mouth creating a seal and sucking once.

The combination of a loud moan and gasp get ripped straight from your lungs as you practically convulsed off the bed from being so aroused. Bucky quickly and securely locks your thighs in place to keep them open and from you going anywhere. He grinned, watching every single movement.

"Eyes on me, princess," he ordered. Pressing down on your lips, you nodded in anticipation. Leaning in, Bucky skimmed his lips on your very inner thigh, placing a feather light kiss that made your entire abdomen tense.

Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.

"Fuck," Bucky sits back up on his knees, taking his phone out of the pocket of his jeans that was still around his ankles. "Hello?" You stare up at him in complete disbelief, "What, now?" He looks down at you on the bed, giving a sympathetic look and mouths 'sorry'. Letting out an annoyed sigh, he drags a hand down his face. "Yeah... yeah. No- I understand... Okay. Yep. I'll be there. Bye." He hangs up the phone.

"Don't say it," you bite out, crossing your arms over your chest and closing your legs.

Bucky takes a deep breath, "I have to go back, a mission came up."

"Annnd, you said it," you look up at the ceiling, refusing to keep that eye contact that you were so adamant on not even a minute ago.

"It sounded pretty important, Doll." Bucky is off the bed, pulling up his pants and re-adjusting himself in them.

"It always is," you mutter under your breath. Sighing, you just accepted the fact that your night is completely ruined. "So, what you're telling me is, that I'm getting cock blocked by The Avengers?"

Bucky sits on the bed, placing a delicate hand on your cheek, "I'm really sorry. I'll make this up to you tenfold, promise." He kisses you softly, "I have to go. I'll contact you as soon as I can. I love you," He offers a small smile.

You sigh, knowing you can never let him leave on bad terms, "I love you too, Buck." Sitting up you give him a hug and a few extra kisses that probably made him late.

Still sitting in bed after Bucky had gone, you felt irrationally irritated by how he left. Tapping on your thighs, a headache was already brewing from the pent-up sexual tension that you were unable to get out. That's when you suddenly remembered a little something on your phone that might just help you out in this situation. There was this one particular time you and Bucky decided to record yourselves having sex, and you've never went back and watched it. If there was ever a time to go back and do so...

Excitedly, you go over to the dresser. You pull open your underwear drawer and dig through all the way to the back, where you stash your favorite vibrator. You click the silicone button a few times to make sure it's charged, and all the intensity settings worked before laughing menacingly to yourself and closing the drawer. Tossing the toy onto the bed, you walk out to the kitchen.

Your phone was where you had left it earlier, still slammed face down on the counter. Sashaying over, you notice that there's an applecore sitting next to it. This is odd, because you didn't have one and Bucky is normally very meticulous when it comes to cleaning and picking up after himself. Going to throw it out, you realize there is no garbage bag in the trash can and suddenly it makes sense. Bucky was in a rush to leave; he probably didn't have the time to replace the bag. So, you do it yourself, and throw out the eaten fruit.

Getting back to your room with your phone, you notice that your underwear drawer is open. Pursing your lips and narrowing your eyes, you look from the bed, to the dresser, back to the bed. I could have sworn I closed that. Then again, maybe it's just the headache coming on. You close the dresser drawer, and all too eagerly jump under the covers.

The ambiance for a little 'self-love' right now is almost too perfect. Your bedroom is dimly lit with only a mood lamp and the fog covered streetlamps from down below your apartment. The light patter of rain hit against your bedroom window and fire escape underneath it, while some light thunder rolled some distance away.

Scrolling through your phone, it wasn't hard to find exactly what you were looking for. Pressing 'play', you're watching a side view of you taking Bucky from the back. Your mouth drops open slightly, seeing it from a third person view. Bucky has his Vibranium hand on the side of your face, pushing you down further into the mattress and he is just relentless. And the sounds, God the sounds. You grab the vibrator, turning it on and quickly placing it onto your already sensitive and swollen clit and start rubbing it and soft circles.

"Look at how good you take it,"

"Oh, God!"

"Are you gonna come for me?"

"Mhm,"

"I can't hear you, princess,"

"Can I come Bucky? Please, please let me..."

"Of course, my good girl can come. Here... lean down more...open those legs wider...touch yourself...yeah...fuck, yeah...just like that baby,"

The bed is practically shattering underneath you as Bucky, who isn't even there, coaxes you into having an orgasm with yourself. You rub the vibrator more intensely, knowing you’re about to come hard from the pent-up tension this evening. The lights surge briefly in the apartment from the passing storm, just as your head presses down further against the pillows and the ripples of pleasure aggressively take over your body.

The lights go out momentarily, and that's when you see the silhouette of a tall, dark hooded figure standing on your fire escape looking into your window.

The lights come back on a second later and you’re panting. Both from the release and from what you saw. The cognizance hits you that you just came in front of a total stranger. Oh, and maybe that I might have a stalker.

The cops came, looked around, made you feel like an idiot, took a report, and left. Not feeling comfortable staying in the apartment for the night, you called Hailee, who offered up her spare bedroom.

Sitting across from you with her legs crossed on the couch, her hair in a bonnet, a glass of wine, and blue raspberry vape, she leaned in, listening intently to the details leading up to this moment.

“Soo… you know I’m gonna ask,” she starts.

You sigh, “I don’t know when I’m going to tell Bucky. I always feel so guilty when he’s away and something happens.”

Hailee’s face scrunches as she waves her hand in dismissal, “No, no not that,” You raise an eyebrow at her in confusion. “Can I see it?” She lowers her voice, but it’s oozing with hope.

“Bitch,” both your eyebrows raise in aghast, realizing what she’s actually asking.

“What?! Come onnnn,” She whines, pressing her hands together in plead and pouts her lip.

“Oh my god, Hailee! No! Just… no.”

Rolling her eyes she composes herself again, “Okay, so like, you ever just… look at a man, and you just know?” Her hands wave around as she’s trying to explain, “Like, that man can fuck? I feel like that’s Bucky. And so…” Hailee looks so determined right now, “s-shame on you!” She points directly at you, this is comical, “for not sharing the video evidence! Because now I’m convinced you have a boring, vanilla sex life!”

Leaning back against the kitchen counter sipping your glass of water, you hear yourself coming down from the highs of ecstasy through your phone. Hailee’s wide eyes are glued, mouth dropped open, speechless, for once. The sound finally cuts off.

“Are you sure he doesn’t have a brother because-”

You quickly snatch the phone out of her hand, “Okay, you got what you wanted. Can we be serious now?!”

“Yeah,” Hailee shakes her head, “yeah, of course…” she takes a deep breath, “I’m just saying, you seriously have some career options if your current job doesn’t work out though.”

“Hailee!!”

“Okay! I’m sorry!” Her hands go up in a surrender, “but you put in a police report, and I mean, of course you can stay here. What else are you going to do?”

*Ding*

“Hang on, I just got a text.”

“Who the fuck would be texting you this late?” Hailee asks, getting off the couch to read the text with you over your shoulder.

Together you read the message:

Part 2

If you enjoyed this, please check out my masterlist

@peaches1958 @aquabrie @elsie-bells @pono-pura-vida @redbloodedgurl @almosttoopizza @beware-my-thorns @prettylittlepluviophile @annoyinglythoughtfuldestiny @calwitch @ozwriterchick @roofwitty779 @lessersole @lil-darhk @agoddoesnotplead @saranghaey @erinallene @mrsvxder @elizabeth916 @cjand10 @bucky-barnes-lover @wintrsoldrluvr

[fluffylino]

ghostface ! hyunjin

little did you know you'd end up bumping into someone unexpected at a halloween party

-suggestive? so flirtatious istg

you weren't this type of person. the type of person in college to actively go seeking out parties and big frat parties. infact thats what you'd probably prefer avoiding. classmates and seniors drinking till they pass out or doing god knows what in bathrooms.

it was scary to be amongst so many people yet deep down you really wished you could experience a party like this. atleast for once in your life.

a recently made friend encouraging you to join her and her group of five friends. you weren't exactly on that level of closeness to go out with them but they genuinely were sweet. you felt like you could trust them. however they weren't as much into halloween as you.

you were wild on the inside. god knows what they'd ever say if they ever found out you found ghostface attractive.

not the killing and gore and all. just the idea of a mask like that. hiding someone's appearance completely.

yet all one could see was their physical figure, mannerisms and...their voice.

"you've never watched scream? the 1996 film?" you questioned, voice raising in pitch as they all shook their heads.

"oh is it that ghostface dude you keep mentioning?"

"technically yeah...imagine bumping into somebody wearing that whole outfit...here..in this place"

you said, getting a little anxious as you saw the classmates dressed up as various characters. some a little too gory and drenched in fake blood.

it was a halloween party afterall.

"I really hope he's there..." another friend chimes in. her cheeks visibly turning red. her and her huge ass crush on this guy.

"hm and if he is? what you gonna do with him" you can't help but tease her. nudging her shoulder and wriggling your eyebrows mischieviously. she laughed nervously.

"shhh what are you saying! dirty dirty!" her eyes widening. internally you questioned the innocence of this poor girl. she wasn't the type to think dirty thoughts.

"you think hyunjin will really be here?"

she whispered, looping her arm around yours. both of yall walking past people and into the house. streamers and decorations all over. lights dimmed down and occasionally flashing. the music louder than expected.

"..hwang? hm i don't know" you mumbled, feeling a bit shaky. guilt setting in slowly.

the thing was...you may have had a teeny weeny crush on him as well. however you pushed it aside when you found out she liked him like crazy. she described it as falling in love with him completely. it was a little too extreme but you simply laughed along. knowing all too well that they had never even spoken once in the previous semester.

hyunjin was a senior by a year or three. watching him from afar in the canteen. heart thumping faster than usual when he glanced your way too many times to be casual.

"he's looking at me, isn't he?" she'd always blush and say, trying to avoid him in all the possible ways.

a little delusion because it took only a few instances for you to figure out that he was...looking at you everytime you either walked to buy some coffee or whenever you'd be laughing and cracking jokes.

but you never know? maybe you just thought he knew your existence.

its only when the music gets louder and more people start coming in do things get overwhelming. grabbing a few shots of soju and downing it quicker than ever.

"we're gonna go there okay?" she slurs, waving goodbye and running off somewhere amidst the crowd with the other three. you hum to yourself, smacking your forehead. beginning to feel the alcohol kick in.

just when you think you should leave, your eyes land upon a mask. worn by someone who looks absolutely sculpted.

no flowy robe to match the creepy mask yet the way his arms looked in a tank top the stranger wore was worth drooling over.

looking away quickly when he turns his head towards you.

"god-...f-fuck he's hot..." you mumble breathlessly to yourself. cheeks burning and body on fire.

trying to steal another glance at the stranger. however he had vanished. was he in the crowd or did he go to the kitchen or backyard or-

"looking for me, honey?"

neck spinning to the side to come face to face with the elongated mouth and downward eyes of the spooky mask. a choked out shout leaving you.

"u-uh i-...i m-mean" you don't even know what you're saying at this point.

its the way he's leaning over you. towering above you.

"sooo you got a boyfriend?"

his voice goes straight to your core. its insane how turned on you are. realising he's playing along. reciting lines from the film.

"why? you wanna ask me out on a date?"

dragging your syllables. its the alcohol thats talking now. growing more confident and comfortable with this supposed stranger.

"maybe..."

the mask tilts comically.

leaning down even lower. that is until he sits on the short table opposite to you. carelessly dropping a few leftover candies on the ground. its a mess anyways.

he moves closer. thick thighs on either side of yours. his elbows resting on his knees as he seems to stare back.

expressions hidden under the damn mask. seeing just a sliver of his eyes under the mesh.

"you're pretty...pretty hot to not have one" muffled behind the mask. you can hear him breathe.

eyes trailing down to his arms unconciously.

"you think i'm hot? even though i'm dressed up as joker?" you chuckle. blushing incredibly hard.

because for some reason this stranger felt familiar. his mannerisms and his physique.

"even hotter, baby"

his voice. you've heard it before. you feel like you know this man's voice. no wonder you were enthralled. why couldn't you pinpoint who it belonged to?

"do i know you?" you sit up quickly. mimicking 'ghostface' who sat infront of you.

moving closer till his body heat engulfed you.

"mh do you?"

he tilts his head, humming condescendingly. goosebumps rising on your skin when his hands carefully rest on your knees.

"cause I definitely know you honey"

again.

your heart races.

unconciously leaning into him.

"you do? i see this little game you're playing" you tease. placing your hands on top of his. he lets you.

"m'not playing any games sweetie"

the man laughs lowly. shoulders shaking and neck arching to look down at you. growing more and more interested.

"yeah? then why don't you show me whose under this mask"

gently placing your index under his chin. his hands resting higher on your thighs now.

"oh i couldn't. that would ruin the fun wouldn't it."

allowing you to play around with the edge of the mask. edging him on mercilessly.

"what if i said i wouldn't mind it staying on"

you whisper, eyes meeting his briefly. arousal pooling in your abdomen.

whoever this was. you knew him for sure.

"while we talk? or did you mean during sex? please do tell, doll"

his voice drops an octave lower and you let your instincts kick in. forcing you to your limits with his teasing.

pushing the mask up just enough to kiss him senselessly.

it takes him by surprise, and you find yourself clinging onto him. his hands sliding higher to hold your waist.

quite literally using his strength to pull you right onto his lap. the low table creaks at the weight of two .

(lord have mercy we must stay focused brothers we MUST STAY FOCUSED AAA sorry i had to lolz)

"f-fuck...who are you..." you whisper, nose brushing against his. he huffs out a breath. choosing to kiss you with more fervour.

your fingers slipping under the mask.

shakily pushing it higher until your heart throbs. but that isn't the only thing throbbing when you see his uncovered face.

hyunjin.

"y-you...hyu-njin" going absolutely speechless as it sets in.

you're kissing hwang hyunjin.

the senior you thought you'd never even have the courage to talk to.

the mild taste of peach soju on his tongue. quietly opening your mouth for him to trail his tongue over your bottom lip.

the dark mesh falling over your face when you let go of the mask to fist at his fluffy hair. you could run your fingers through his hair.

his grip on your thighs strong enough to firmly keep you planted directly over where you could feel him.

getting worked up with how affected you were.

the feeling of his hands, his hair, his hot mouth moving passionately...his covered length....

"your friend. tell her you're with me, baby"

hyunjin pants out, nudging his lips to the corner of your mouth. your eyes widen, heart pounding.

"tell her im kissing you"

it felt like you were committing a sin. but you just couldn't bring yourself to care that much.

"tell her...i don't plan on letting you go home anytime soon"

.

.

.

.

ha ha ha ha ha ha ha surprise!

its a late halloween present but who cares! ghostface hyunjin has made an appearance acjwugsbsjskskshs~

<3333

[simp-ly-writes]

The Comment Section (pt.6)

─────── · · A Social Media AU Fic

Pairing: Spencer Agnew x gn!Reader

─ · · SUMMARY: I hate you, I love you, I hate that I love you. Or when (yourshipname) gets messy after a drunken blur at the Oscars and a hate train...

─ · · TAGS: gender-neutral pronouns, hurt/comfort, angst, social media au, angst, twitter hate, suggestive themes, alcohol consumption, slowburn, light swearing, kissing, fluff, mutual pinning, friends that act like lovers, friends/lovers.

─ · · MASTERLIST | TAGLIST REQUEST | PART 4.5 | PART FIVE | PART SEVEN

─ · · A/N: don't hate me after this one please! it gets better I swear!

─────── · ·

🔔 (name)s_username just posted for the first time in awhile.

─────── · ·

Liked by co_mill, spennser, sydney_sweeney, and others

(name)s_username we win these!! (your official best supporting actress of 2025- take that haters 😘).

View all 7,342 comments

spennser so fucking proud of you, couldn't think of anymore more deserving than you 🫶

↳ (name)s_username thank you- gosh you have my cryin' again 🫶 ↳ spennser need another hug? ↳ (name)s_username yes, please. ↳ spennser running over now. 🫶

co_mill you are THEE most outstanding person I know 🥹❤️

username44 HOLY SHIT!!!

username90 I screamed at my television when i heard that you won, i love you so much (name)!!

sydney_sweeney can't believe i had the honour to work with you and i am so happy so many others got to realize the pure talent you exude. first film and first oscar of many to come, im sure of it ❤️

↳ (name)s_username sydneyyy! you can't say these things to me- i'm already a mess. the real honour was getting to know, work, and learn with you! couldn't think of anyone else i would want to work with first other than you 🥰 ↳ sydney_sweeney i need another box of tissues, i'm a mess too 😂

username01 (name)!!! OMG I AM AT A LOSS FOR WORDS.

shayne_topp do you think i could borrow that award for a smosh bit??

↳ (name)s_username ummm, sure?? should i be worried? ↳ shayne_topp 🤷 ↳ (name)s_username oh no...

anthonypadilla WTF??- nobody texted me about this earlier, holy fuck congratulations!!! 🎉

glen_powell you looked incredible while accepting that award, you are an inspiration. can't wait to see your next work and happy to know i was part of your journey ❤️

↳ (name)s_username i can't believe its over, thank you so much glenn, for everything. there's no greater first fictional "ex-husband" than you ❤️ XD

angelagiovanagiarratana theres no freaking way my best friend just did that. someone pinch me i am about to go insane /positive

─────── · ·

🔔 (name)s_username just posted!

─────── · ·

Liked by spennser, username01, shayne_topp and others

(name)s_username drunk in love... wait? or maybe just drunk...

View all 10,123 comments

co_mill teehee!! u are so cute.

sydney_sweeney me too babes, me too.

username70 wonder how long it'll be till (name) inevitably takes this post down like all the others...

username01 i have learned from my mistakes and have screenshotted every picture as photo evidence.

username66 kinda getting concerned of all the partying (name) and spencer have gotten into recently. but then again they have never experienced something like this before (on multiple levels 😉).

username30 what is even going on anymore??

username43 okay should I call 999, 911, or somethin'?

username00 never commented on anything but now. just hope you find what you need (name)...

spennser i am drunk.

↳ (name)s_username hahahhahahah! 😊 ↳ spennser 🫶 ↳ (name)s_username 🫶

username54 you both are so calling in sick tomorrow, and maybe the following few days after that.

filmingamanda text me or call me when you get back home please!

(name)s_username okay, okay, okay. ❤️❤️❤️

username90 kinda sad how they can only talk to one another when drunk, or well, you get what i mean...

↳ username23 yeah. ↳ username61 i know that feeling all too well. too scary to loose such a longterm friendship if things didn't work out. ↳ username00 but then you'll always stay dreaming, stay wondering what if it did? ↳ username61 this got deeper than I was expecting. have a lot to think about now...

username10 so... is everyone on smosh wasted?? or just these two??

─────── · ·

🔔 HollywoodNow just posted! check it out?

─────── · ·

Liked by username01, RomComInterviews, and others

HollywoodNow Hollywoods newest and hottest heartthrob (first/name) (last/name) was found walking around downtown L.A. with any unknown man. Spectators say they looked very "cosy" while attending a local art crawl, others account a kiss while getting coffee later in the afternoon. To get more on this story, give us a follow and read the full article on our website- linked in bio!

View all 1,991 comments

username01 i will die on this hill believing the man to be spencer. (i don't think my heart could handle it being anyone else 😭).

username88 please be spencer. please be spencer. please be spencer. PLEASEEEE 🙏😫

username94 i hate paparazzi- like leave by boy/girl (name) alone please!

RomComInterviews want to learn more about (name)? check out our interview with them on our youtube channel alongside sydney sweeney and glenn powell!

(name)s_username 😆 can't believe i have my first gossip article!

↳ spennser this is part of your peak accomplishments ❤️ ↳ (name)s_username for real- going to print this out now! ↳ smosh please stop using up the office printers ink! the art department needs it!! ↳ (name)s_username whaaattt? i'd never think of doing that... 😇 ↳ username41 umm guys? you do know this is not email or sms... right??

username20 so if (name) and spencer both commented on this post... this confirms it... right?

username49 it was going so slow and now (name) and spencer feel like they are moving through relationships at rocket speed. what. is. going. on???

username33 sometimes i wonder where my life went wrong, then i remember there are some people that have it worse out there than me, for example (name). could never imagine going out with people like they do. a real shame.

↳ username71 umm, to put it bluntly as possible, what the actual fuck?? get a life. you're just jealous that you can't pull or even be (name) or spencer. spot putting you, a disappointment, onto others in order to make yourself feel better, get help- you clearly need it. 😃

username25 i am new to this, what is a (yourshipname)? and where do you find one?

username66 please, please, please (name), star in another movie!! I am begging.

username10 does anyone know what product spencer uses for his hair? i'm looking for my boyfriend.

─────── · ·

🔔 (name)s_username just added to their story, check it out!

─────── · ·

─────── · ·

🔔 These tweets are trending right now, retweet it to join the conversation!

─────── · ·

(first/name) (last/name) @ (name)s_username · 3 days ago I should have deleted my social media accounts earlier... 🙈😭 Comment | Retweet | Like | Bookmark

.

Hollywood Now @ hollywood_now · 1 day ago THIS JUST IN... (first/name) (last/name) has just been casted in a secret Netflix series coming soon. link in bio to find out more from us first! Comment | Retweet | Like | Bookmark

.

username24 @ username24 · 12 hours ago Since nobody else is willing to start saying it #imdonewith(name). They PROMISED they would be in more Smosh productions (especially with Spencer) yet it seems they keep getting pulled away by their "acting" stuff. Like WTF do you not care about your fans, the people that gave you a platform and this career??? #imdonewith(name). You would be nothing without us

.

username44 @ username44 · 12 hours ago #imdonewith(name) like congrats I guess but what about all of us?? I mean I cannot afford to watch movies in cinemas or another subscription 😡

.

username31 @ username31 · 12 hours ago Love that at the pinnacle of their career, they are also receiving the same amount of hate. #deserved #imdonewith(name)

.

username50 @ username50 · 12 hours ago Where is all this #imdonewith(name) coming from??? When #(yourshipname)forever should be trending???

.

username39 @ username39 · 12 hours ago (name) never deserved Spencer in the first place and now they are getting in a relationship when (name) is just going to leave AGAIN?! #imdonewith(name) shame, shame, double- no triple shame on you.

.

username11 @ username11 · 12 hours ago Hate how quiet @ spennser has been recently...

.

Spencer Agnew @ spennser · just now Missing what never was. this tweet has since been deleted by the user.

─────── · ·

🔔 SmoshGames just uploaded! Turn off notifications here.

─────── · ·

Werewolf but Twilight Edition 🐺🩸

Smosh Pit ✓ [Subscribed] 👍 4k | 👎 7.77M subscribers 90k views 10 hours ago we all are spindermonkeys click to read more

3,139 Comments

username01 I will never forgive both spencer or (name) if they both act super distant in another video EVER AGAIN (I know it was only half the video OKAY?? BUT STILLL). It is officially illegal for you both to not act as anything other than endlessly in love with one another.

↳ username69 PREACH!!! PERIOD!!!!!

username19 And now we all slowly watch as (yourshipname) like all other ships goes tits up in flames.

username00 I don't know whats up or down, left or right anyone after watching this...

username71 so... were they *just* Bella and Edward... or did anyone else see anything, (yourshipname) forever!!

username34 this was a bit... cringe but the vibes were there... as weird as they were...

username75 so... when you "apologizing" then doing what you said you wouldn't do again?

username23 11:24 Spencer: "take all the time you need, i'll always be here, Bella" Agnew and 14:32 (first/name): "i'm listening, i hear you, and i'm sorry, Edward" (last/name).

↳ username05 but how could you forget about their line a few minutes earlier!! 12:55 (first/name) "I will be here for as long as you want me to be, Edward/Spencer" (last/name). ↳ username09 okay sure you both, but 19:41 was peak: (first/name) "theres no place I rather be than with you" (last/name) to Spencers: "I only know want for you until I have you in my arms." I REFUSE to believe this was just them in character. ↳ username07 this whole episode felt like a fever dream, for real.

username99 Damien and Ian were so fucking funny in this one, constantly chocking on the cheap wigs was legendary 😂

username74 Spencer glaring at (name) but then softening seconds after has my heart doing somersaults 💗

↳ username69 they really cannot stay mad for long at one another, its pitiful. ↳ username74 IKR? Like they sat at different ends of the table but by the end I swore they were holding hands underneath the table.

username34 (name) apologizing for mistaking the rules so emotionally to Spencer seemed way more than surface level...

username90 And this friends is the last known video evidence of (name) being a Smosh cast member before they became too "cool" for everyone and went to the silver screen.

username88 I am going to miss (name) so much!!!! 😭 PLEASE DONT LEAVE USSSSS

↳ username24 #imdonewith(name) #imdonewith(name) #imdonewith(name) #imdonewith(name) ↳ username70 get lost and get a life hater. 😃

username13 everyone speaking with a lisp from the plastic teeth made this 10x funnier 😭😆

username22 true enemies to lovers type beat in this video. At the start, (name) and Spencer want nothing to do with one another, they refuse to even look at each other and then after one acted out upon scene they are giving "goo-goo, i'm so sorry" eyes at one another before outro-ing together. These two I swear- And don't even get me started on those whispered "i'm sorrys" throughout the video. WE HEARD THOSEEE editors!!!

username20 (name).

↳ username31 spencer.

username91 im bitter. like i know its not really confirmed by Netflix or (name) yet but... like you promised? i hate sounding like a sad child.

username03 this is all to messy for my liking...

username66 wait so... what did i miss???

↳ username44 "i guess i basically missed the late eighties..."

username51 So... are they together or not? I am so confused somehow help pls 😭

username62 praying that those pictures were real. i need this to be real like i need to breathe.

─────── · ·

🔔 (name)s_username just added to their story, check it out!

─────── · ·

─────── · ·

🔔 spennser just added to their story for the first time in awhile.

─────── · ·

─────── · ·

─ · · A/N: whew! 😥 that was a long ass chapter. what did y'all think??

─ · · COMMENTS SECTION TAGLIST: @lisiliely @missflufffanfics @little-stitious-studios @thejourneyneverendsx @sibsteria @lizzylynch1 @cryinghotmess @babble2

[lostintransist]

Seamstress | Part 4

Part 1 here. AO3

John lets the men simmer for two days. Mostly he lets their trip to his seamstress ride to see if they brought it up to him. They didn’t. Guess he would be playing this the sly way.

“Found an old quilt from my grandmother when cleaning out my mum’s house last leave.”

Johnny’s brain sparked on the word association just as John hoped it would.

“Found out I can get my family kilts fixed up and preserved. Met a pretty lass who runs a shop that said it was a possibility.”

“Oh?” John folded his arms across his chest, encouraging Johnny to go on by tilting his head in interest.

“Yeah, pretty bird, kicked us out when we started asking about-”

He cut himself off pretty quick but John gave him a small scary smile.

“Asking about who, Johnny?”

Johnny started to back up, hands raised as he babbled his excuses.

“Finish your excuses and go get the guys.”

Johnny turned tail and fled from the room. His muppets filed in the room, Johnny getting forced by the neck by Simon who glared down at him. Must have wanted to keep this a secret. Should have known better than to tell Johnny. The man couldn’t keep a non-life-threatening secret to save anyone’s life. Kyle and Gary slid in after the duo.

“Muppets. You will leave my seamstress well enough alone or I will make it a problem for you.”

“So she is yours?” Gary piped up from the side.

Shooting him a glare John continued.

“I am grown enough to not explain myself to the lot of you, but if I get a call again about any of you bothering her I will make it everyone’s problem.”

Kyle smirked and spoke out one side of his mouth.

“Seems like Price can’t get a date.”

“Kyle I swear to my god and yours I will make you disappear if you keep it up. If your clothes go missing, just know they will be back. Now get out of here the lot of you.”

His men shared smiles and eye contact.

They hustled from the room when he picked up his blackened coffee mug to throw at one of them.

“Fucking muppets going to send me to an early grave. I don’t even have her phone number yet,” he mumbled to himself as the back of them disappeared.

🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡🪡

You think about John far more often than you should. He is a customer. Yes, he sleeps in your chairs and smiles at you in a way that pulls his cheeks to the moon, and yes he makes your heart flutter the tiniest bit but, but he is a customer who has never shown interest and you refuse to make someone feel uncomfortable in your shop. Your shop was a safe space, for everyone. Your flags are on clear display, so many, many flags, made sure of it.

He stepped through your thoughts carelessly. When you were wandering a superstore you somehow ended up in the camping section. A clearance foldable cot caught your eye and left the store with you. You maneuvered it into your tiny car and into the shop without allowing yourself to question why you had bought it.

John appeared two mornings following your purchase. You smile, wider than you should, at him.

“Hi John, welcome back! Got anything new and interesting for me today?”

Did you sound too chipper?

“Nothing crazy, one of my men needs a mask fixed.”

“Do you always bring in their items? I hope they are paying you at least,” you joke as you take the offered mask.

Spreading it on the counter you look it over, a tear over one ear and one from the eye portion. Both are decently easy fixes but would require your ring light and some time with a hand needle.

Looking up you offer John another smile. Fuck, can you keep the smiles to a minimum? He is going to think you are weird and then stop coming by.

“This shouldn’t take terribly long, I would say maybe an hour?”

John knocked one knuckle against the counter as he nodded. With both hands on the armrests, you remembered the cot in the back.

“Oh, John!”

He paused, ass halfway lowered into the seat.

“I..uh..” you stammer to a stop, unsure of how your words might be received.

“Yes?” He lifts a single brow at you, body not shaking as he waits.

Tucking one arm to your chest and the other to your mouth you speak from behind it.

“I found a cot. I brought it to the shop for you to use if you wanted?”

The words rush out of you, mumbled by your hand, and the speed by which you hurl them.

John stands, moving to stand next to the counter where the floor changes, noting the difference in customer space vs working space.

“What was that dove?”

Tightening your lips before biting the inside of your cheek you force yourself to say your words again. Slower, clearer you speak.

“I have a cot for you. In the back, so that you can sleep.”

His face goes blank as he blinks at you.

He looked a bit like a 404 code in the flesh.

A small smile breaks across his face as color spreads up his cheeks.

“For me?”

“Well,” you tighten both arms around your middle as you reply. “No one else seems to pay me for the privilege of sleeping in my shop, so yes?”

John rubs the back of his neck with one hand.

You awkwardly stare at him. What do you even say now? Do you invite him to lie down? No that sounded weird.

“Do you-”

“Why don-”

You both started and stopped at hearing the other’s voice.

Spinning on your heel you turned towards the storage room, confident John would follow. Popping the door open you can do nothing more than point to the cot, still covered in tape from the store.

John slides by you, chest brushing your arm and shoulder as he does. If you have to fight back the urge to take a bite? Well, he would never need to know.

“I can set it up for you if you don’t mind?” John looks back over his shoulder at you.

Knowing you are beet red you can only nod.

“I bought it for you but didn’t get a chance to,” you gesture at it as if your vague motion will explain all your thoughts.

John’s smile, eyes crinkling and shoulders softening, melted your heart.

“I’ll take care of it and then take a good nap. My men have started to comment that I am nicer to them after I get a nap here.” He knelt, pulling out a pocket knife and slicing open the package.

“Your men?” You lean against the door frame, unabashedly watching. “What is it you do for work John?”

“Special forces, I’m a captain. I lead a group of myself and four other men.”

“Well, that would explain a lot of the smells.”

He looks up at you, brow cocked.

“Smells?”

“Like fire, gunpowder, sweat, sometimes fear.”

“You get a lot of smell knowledge here?”

“I get a lot of everything here,” you shrug, unable to articulate how no matter how clean a piece of cloth some lingering smells clung.

John turns back to his task. You spend far, far too long watching him. The way his shoulders dip and arms change shape as he uses them. When the cot is built and John stands he turns and catches sight of you, you give a panicked smile and flee for the counter where you had left the mask.

Slamming your body into your chair you turned on your ring light, pulled your black thread, and focused diligently on fixing the holes you had been asked to address. John did not reappear for nearly an hour. You had finished the mask sooner than that but had not yet found the fortitude to go and wake him.

The creases on his face matched the lines on the shoulder of his shirt, and the slight drool stain.

“Right on time?”

You smile and nod.

“Well let’s settle up and I will find a reason to be back in a few days.” John returns to the customer side of the counter, sure of himself and you.

“You don’t have to pay me to come nap if that is all you need,” you start.

He cuts you off with a wave of his hand.

“My men are hard on clothes. If I can get you some business I feel less bad about using you for some shut-eye.”

Supposing you had to accept that answer you unlock your tablet and complete the transaction.

Once his card clears you pass over the mask.

“You’re jewelry box should be done by Christmas.”

He drops the statement as if he forgot to bring it up until now.

“Christmas should be fine, I don’t have many plans though I will be out of town the week of Christmas proper. I will be visiting my grandmother.” Paternal grandmother since your mother was not allowed to visit, but no need to mention that.

“We will have to find some time to ensure I can get you the gift then,” he smiled as he said it.

“I told you I would pay for it John,” you chide.

With a shrug, he tucked the mask into his pocket and stepped back from the counter.

“Can’t pay me for a Christmas present dove.”

With that, he waved and pushed through the front door.

“The hell I can’t,” you spoke to the empty shop.

Part 3 | Part 5

Masterlist

[rootspiral]

Agatha All Along deep dive: episode 8 part 3

(Wandavision entries: [1][2][3])

(AAA entries: ep1 [1][2][3][4] ep2 [1][2][3][4] ep3 [1][2][3] ep4 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][+1] ep5 [1][2][3][4][5] ep6 [1][2][3] ep7 [1][2][3][4][5][6] ep8 [1][2][3][4][5][6][7][8][9] ep9 [1][2][3][4][5][6])

I love how after all the I'M THE BIG SCARY EMBODIMENT OF DEATH WHERE ARE MY BODIESSSSSSSS bit rio just wants to sit and TALK to her wife. that's all she ever wanted, ONE MATURE CONVERSATION

and I also adore the way aubrey chose to sit here 10/10 no notes

both know that the Road isn't real but they talk as if its power is real. because it is, like I said, Billy created a 100% functional, DEADLY Road

so we learn that tommy is still a soul floating somewhere and billy is the only one who can give him a new body. it's interesting that Death herself couldn't find and collect tommy's soul, it means that, like everything concerning wanda and billy, it's beyond Death's realm of expertise - which is the natural order of things. she hates ghosts because they're souls that resist the sacred cycle and linger behind on earth. billy and tommy are even worse than ghosts because they bend the rules even further.

is agatha bluffing when she gives up on billy this easily? yes and no. she is a huge nerd and a scheming mastermind so she'll keep looking for a way to save billy - but if she doesn't, she fully believes she'll be capable to sacrifice him to save herself and be absolutely fine about it, she won't die of Severe Grief Constipation or anything

oh?? but what is this? is rio hesitating? did detective agnes find a clue?

bingo!! lol her jessica fletcher light bulb moments

rio looks SO grumpy. curse her wife's beautiful brain! this is the first time we ever see agatha take the upper hand I think

billy the marvelous immortal homosexual

YEAH NO SHIT SHERLOCK. oh no, Death is really cute when she's all frustrated about the Sacred Balance. she's such a nerd too.

yes agatha you're a genius! like all your plans this is going to work spectacularly and won't blow up in your face or anything of the sort

goddamnit

rio immediately calls bullshit

agatha walks toward her and look at rio's body language, she's getting ready, but it's almost playful. this is what they do, agatha bluffs and rio gently but firmly calls her out. she's going to learn what's agatha's latest scheme and she's gonna fix it. this is what she's always been doing, she brings balance to agatha's chaotic existence. or at least, she tries to.

I cannot express enough how stupid this woman is. like, she is so smart but she's is SUCH a clown. COMPLETELY incapable of making good choices

rio is like, HA, nice try sweetums, but that's not how it works

but as agatha talks, rio's face start to fall

this is agatha lashing out, making it once again all about herself and punishing rio for her grief. agatha is making her own life hell, she's not going to magically feel fine if rio goes away. can you imagine what would happen if she handed billy over and rio left her alone? agatha would probably fall back into her most toxic habits and commit so many atrocities to numb the pain, she'd be so completely alone and miserable.

a long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long, long, long long time from now (stupid ass clown)

aaaaaand she went and did it. she said the most hurtful thing she could come up with. that's what happens when you fight with someone you know so intimately, you can pick the magic words that will inflict the most damage. not only she doesn't want to see rio now, she doesn't want to see her when she dies. yes, you heard that right rio! fuck your sacred balance, fuck the natural order of things, you'll have to bend the rules for me again! you don't get my soul, and what's worse, you don't get to bring me to nicky. you're NEVER going to fix me. I'd rather roam the world as a disgusting, angry ghost!

there is some scheming too because this is agatha we're talking about and becoming a ghost is a good contingency plan. but mostly? she's just angry, she's scared, she's hurting. and she's just made a huge mistake.

count how long it takes for rio to answer. twenty seconds, that is an eternity on a tv show. she opens her mouth but can't find the words, she looks down, she looks to the side, she can't believe what just happened. it's like agatha slapped her.

and this is all she says in the end: okay.

okay, you win. okay, I've had enough. okay, it's over.

we're over.

and this pathetic sad sack of a woman just goes, wait... what?

she was bluffing. she's always treated rio as a bottomless well of patience and forgiveness, as her very own emotional punching bag. rio has demonstrated time and time again that no matter how low agatha punches, she will always come back. but there comes a time when even the person who loves you the most will give up on you if you give them nothing and demand everything in return.

rio was the person who loved agatha no matter what. until today.

so far it's always been agatha running away or demanding rio to leave. it's the first time rio just up and leaves on her own.

consequences of your own actions, baybeeeeee

NO, rio, don't look back you ridiculous bottom of a sapphic, STAND YOUR GROUND. no time for a te veo. don't try to be cool! just go!!!! you're DEATH for christ's sake!! have some dignity!!

she looks back TWICE. you know if agatha fell on her knees and begged right now rio would take her back in a heartbeat, like a LOSER.

I can't with rio cutting open the set with her knife and leaving, I saw it the first time and went, oh that's cool! no, it kinda looks cheap and ridiculous? no, wait, it's actually brilliant??? love that they had no CGI budget and had to come up with stuff like this, it's a great callback to wandavision and hints at the Road being staged. and only rio can see it!

"yeah whatever, this is exactly what I wanted!!! doesn't hurt one bit!!!!!!! all according to plan!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!"

next up: agatha is absolutely calm and composed and doesn't at all go ballistic on billy and jen.

go to episode 8 part 4

[daughterofscotland]

Love, Unfinished

Thanks to 8x11 I finally managed to write something again!

Not sure I appreciate that them being sad works better for my muse than their happiness, but... at least I get to make it better. With a lot of fluff and sweetness.

Thanks to @daniwib for the title!

Love, Unfinished on AO3 here

“I can’t do this again,” he said, turning around and looking at Tommy who was still at the door, closing it slowly before turning and leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest. Protecting himself, Buck realized, and his heart gave a painful pang at that. *** After leaving Maddie, Buck decides he doesn't want to waste anymore time before clearing the air with Tommy. He just hopes he's not too late to fix things. Or: Buck and Tommy talk. Finally.

Or read it here:

Buck didn’t hesitate as he parked his car in Tommy’s driveway, coming straight from Maddie. He jumped out and immediately headed for the light blue door, knocking on it in a quick, consistent rhythm, until it opened. Buck allowed himself one look at Tommy, who looked like he hadn’t slept, and was definitely still wearing the same undershirt he’d worn last night.

“Ev-,” Tommy started, and thank god he didn’t say “Buck” right now.

“Don’t,” Buck interrupted him and pushed his way into the house. He was well aware that Tommy could have stopped him easily; the fact that he didn’t gave him a tiny bit of hope that he could fix this. Fix them.

“I can’t do this again,” he said, turning around and looking at Tommy who was still at the door, closing it slowly before turning and leaning against it, arms crossed over his chest.

Protecting himself, Buck realized, and his heart gave a painful pang at that.

“Can’t do what?” Tommy asked, not looking at Buck’s face but somewhere beyond his shoulder.

“Spend another however many months not talking or fixing this,” Buck said in a rush, trying his best not to stammer, even though it was hard. “I can’t keep sleeping at M-Maddie’s because I can’t stand being alone in my house, I can’t keep trying to force Ravi o-or anyone else to hang out with me just so I don’t have to be by myself, and I seriously can’t keep baking just so I won’t call you, b-because I have gained 15 pounds, egg prices are ridiculous, and two stores have already banned me from buying flour.”

Tommy blinked at him, his face going on a real journey while Buck talked, like it always did. God, Buck missed him and his stupid face so much.

“I don’t know why people think I have romantic feelings for Eddie,” Buck continued, taking a deep breath, calming down now that his immediate rush of words was out. “You never gave me any idea that you were thinking about it, either, and I really hope you didn’t spend our whole relationship worrying about it. 

It blindsided me, Tommy, and I… I miss him. I really, truly miss him; he’s my best friend, my family, and he’s gone, and I, I am not dealing well with it at all. And if I were to take some time and look back at when he first turned up at the 118, yeah, maybe I would realize I had a crush on him or something. 

But it doesn’t matter what I did or didn’t feel back then. I do not have romantic feelings for Eddie. I can’t imagine developing them, either, because…”

Buck swallowed. These were the words he had to say, finally, after they’d been swirling around his head for months. They were big and scary, but if he didn’t say them now, he feared he’d lose Tommy for good. And that was just utterly unacceptable.

“I love you, Tommy,” Buck said, noting how Tommy’s eyes snapped up to his, wide and disbelieving. It broke Buck’s heart seeing that disbelief. How could Tommy not know?

“I have loved you for much longer than I probably realize. I should have told you before asking you to move in together, I should have told you a thousand times after you broke up with me, I should have told you last night and this morning.

But I was scared. So I never did.”

Tommy’s mouth opened and closed for a few moments and he swallowed hard. His eyes were glassy and his arms had dropped down to his sides, as if his strings had been cut.

“Why are you saying it now, then? Are you… are you not scared anymore?”

It was such a mirror of what Buck had asked him in the morning - just before doing exactly what Tommy had said he wasn’t as afraid of anymore: broken Tommy’s heart.

“Oh, I absolutely am,” he said, putting everything out there. “I am terrified that you won’t… won’t believe me or that it won’t be enough, not after I ruined us for the third time…”

“Evan, you haven’t ruined us,” Tommy immediately protested but Buck shook his head, making him stop.

“Yes, I did,” Buck said. “I keep saying the wrong things because I am nervous or angry. And it makes you doubt me every time, and because you want to protect yourself so, so badly, you run. I don’t want to make you keep running, Tommy. I want to stand still with you. O-or walk beside you, whatever. I just want to do it together. If… if that is still something you want…”

Buck’s voice broke on the last sentence and he had to close his eyes tightly for a moment so he wouldn’t start crying. If Tommy didn’t believe him, if he told him to leave, that would be it. There would be no future for them. And Buck wasn’t sure he’d survive that.

“Evan,” came Tommy’s quiet voice and it was much closer than before. Buck dared to open his eyes and he saw that Tommy had stepped closer, was in arm’s reach, and he couldn’t stop himself from reaching out and grabbing onto Tommy’s shirt at his side. Holding on, holding them in place.

“You’re right,” Tommy said, putting both his hands on Buck’s hips, as if he also needed an anchor so he wouldn’t float away, just like Buck.

“I have been doubting you. Not because you did anything to make me, but because… I guess part of me always expected us to be temporary. Not even consciously, but it’s just how it goes for me, you know? So when you fumbled our first date, I thought: Oh, okay, he’s not ready, nevermind. But then you called me and we talked and you just… you moved us along and I could do nothing but follow you, and I was happy, I promise. 

But then you asked me to move in - and just to be clear, you asked me to move into your loft, even if that wasn’t really what you meant, and that would have been a terrible idea - and it just confirmed my belief that we wouldn’t work out, that we weren’t on the same page or moving at the same pace. So, yeah, I ran.”

He gave a self-deprecating smile. “It’s something I have been working on with my therapist.”

“You are in therapy?” Buck asked, his voice quieter than before, now that they were standing almost nose to nose. He let Tommy’s words swirl around in his head and understood them, but also knew he’d have to question some of it later.

“I broke my own heart because it seemed the more logical choice than talking to you and working on the best thing that had ever happened to me. Yes, I started going to therapy. Turns out, talking about things actually helps you get over trauma, who knew?”

Buck couldn’t help but laugh at the usual dry delivery and he rubbed their noses together, anticipating the little sneeze Tommy would let out. It was one of the most endearing things he’d discovered about him.

“Yeah, I, uh… I have started taking sessions with mine again, too,” he confessed, looking at Tommy through his lashes. “Got scolded for going awol for so long, we have quite a lot to work through.”

“Not just us?” Tommy asked, cocking his head a bit.

“No,” Buck answered honestly. “But you definitely come up quite a lot.”

They stayed silent for a bit, still holding each other, Buck’s hands now around Tommy’s neck. They swayed from side to side, a sweet, silent imitation of the dance they never had at Maddie’s and Chimney’s wedding.

“From the start,” Buck finally broke the silence, but didn’t move away. “Did you think I wanted Eddie instead of you the whole time?”

Tommy took his time answering, his fingers spasming on Buck’s hip. “I… not consciously,” he finally said. “I knew you were best friends, of course, that wasn’t the problem. But the more time we spent together, all three of us, I just… it’s kind of tradition, you know? Falling in love with your straight best friend.”

He shook his head, his jaw clenching. “I certainly did it. And somehow, knowing I was the first man that made you realize that you aren’t actually straight, convinced me that you would of course experience the same.”

Buck thought about it for a moment. He could see where Tommy was coming from, in a way. He’d certainly heard of the cliché, or tradition, as he’d called it. But still.

“I’m not you,” Buck said quietly, resting his head on Tommy’s shoulder. He saw Tommy shiver as Buck’s breath hit his skin. “I am not any of your exes, either, or any other non-straight person out there. I am me. I am not going around repeating yours or others’ mistakes. I can make my own just fine, as you might have noticed.”

He smiled as Tommy laughed at that. 

“I know,” Tommy assured him, turning his head just slightly to place a gentle kiss on Buck’s birthmark. “I know you have never actually given me a reason to doubt your friendship with Eddie. I guess it was just…” He trailed off, clearly not sure how to say what he had thought.

“Just you seeing a foregone conclusion borne out of fear?” Buck asked softly and Tommy nodded, exhaling shakily.

“I can understand that. God knows I have enough of those, too. And apparently you’re not even the only one who thinks that way about me and Eddie, because Maddie -” He cut himself off, not wanting to get angry again right now.

“Anyway. Yes, I love Eddie. As a friend, a brother, as family. But you.”

He moved so he could hold Tommy’s head in his hands and look him straight in the eye.

“I am in love with you, Tommy Kinard. And if you’ll have me, I would very much like to prove it to you for the rest of our lives.”

Tommy blinked, once, twice. “You didn’t just ask me to marry you, right, because that would be very unfortunate timing.”

Buck laughed, letting go of Tommy’s head and putting his hands back on those strong shoulders. If he pushed his fingers down a bit, right over the bite mark he’d left there last night, that was between him and Tommy. “No, Tommy, I did not… Jeez, believe me, when I propose, you’ll know.”

“When, huh?” Tommy said, his face lighting up with that crinkling smile Buck loved so much.

“Absolutely,” Buck said, nodding, his own answering grin splitting his face. “There’s no doubt in my mind that I am going to marry you one day, Tommy Kinard, so you better be prepared to indulge me with a clipboard. Possibly two, one just for the catering and cake.”

“Well, the cake is the most important part,” Tommy replied seriously, before shaking his head and grinning again. “I will gladly hand you all the clipboards you need, sparkly pens included, if it means I get to call you my husband at the end of it all, Evan.”

Buck’s grin turned into a shy smile and he ducked his head. “Yeah?”

“Yeah, baby,” Tommy said, his voice dropping to a whisper before he leaned in and pressed a soft kiss to the corner of Buck’s mouth. “I love you, too, Evan. I wish I had said it earlier, but I was afraid, too.”

Buck felt like his heart was beating out of his chest from happiness. “But you’re not afraid anymore?” he asked, not able to help himself.

“Oh, I am,” Tommy said, smiling against Buck’s cheek. “But standing here, seeing you be so brave… how could I be anything less? I want to be brave for you, Evan, because you deserve it. You deserve me to be honest with you about my feelings.”

Buck had to squeeze his eyes shut for a moment so he wouldn’t start crying. “Thank you,” he whispered, clearing his throat. “You know I… I used to believe when I found the right person, it would be easy. And when it wasn’t, I thought it was me. That I was just… unlovable…”

Tommy squeezed his sides but didn’t say anything, only kissed his cheek, trailing his lips down Buck’s jaw.

“But earlier today, I remembered this call… it was years ago, an old couple, one of them died and the other, he… he told me about how he met his husband, their journey.

I said something about how I hoped to find something that good one day. H-he said “you don’t find it, you make it”. I, I lost sight of that for a while, but… that’s what I want with you, Tommy. I want us to make a beautiful life, together.”

Tommy pulled back and stared at him. Buck wondered how often he could astound Tommy in one conversation, because at this point, it had to have been at least three times.

“You are a wonder, Evan Buckley,” Tommy said, before pulling Buck in again, kissing him fully this time. The kiss quickly turned passionate, their gentle hands grabbing at each other.

Tommy broke the kiss, panting a bit, as he moved them so Buck was pressed against the wall in a mimicry of the previous night. Then he squeezed Buck’s sides very purposefully. 

“By the way, are you sure you only gained 15 pounds? Because, this feels like -” he stopped with a laugh when Buck bit him on the chin in outrage.

“Oh my god, you’re such a dick,” Buck laughed, gnawing on Tommy’s skin. “So rude, unbelievable…”

“But you love me anyway,” Tommy says, and Buck pulled back, ready to give a retort - before he looked into Tommy’s eyes and registered the insecurity there. His gaze softened.

“Yes, Tommy,” he said, kissing him again. “I love you. Despite the fact that you can be a real bitch a lot of the time.”

Tommy’s laugh held a hint of relief. “Well, good thing you have terrible taste in men and like us being bitchy - Eddie is one, too, after all.”

“Stop talking about Eddie while I am trying to get you naked,” Buck whined, pushing Tommy’s shirt up so he could get his hands on hot skin. 

“Understood,” Tommy gasped as Buck flicked one of his nipples. “No more talk of Eddie in this house, copy that.”

Instead of answering again, Buck just groaned and pulled Tommy’s shirt over his head. 

He was sure they still had a lot of talking to do - there was still a lot of hurt they had to work out between them, figure out what they wanted their relationship to look like from now on.

But that could wait. For now, they would make up for the delayed celebration Tommy had planned in the morning. They had all the time in the world after all.

[ssentimentals]

seventeen members as love tropes: jun

arranged marriage

'i looked into your eyes and wished all of this was true'

very few things can faze wen junhui - blank stares and emotionless facial expressions are on top of the things he mastered since childhood, because not letting anyone know what you're feeling proved to be an effective tactic in his family. which, he guesses, says a lot about his family but junhui is not someone who gnaws on the fate. it what it is, he's too self-aware of how many people would kill to be in his position to ever feel sorry for himself. but right now? when he stares at the name of his future wife neatly written next to his in a marriage contract? he thinks he's allowed to feel just a tad bit sorry.

'she's a lovely girl,' he hears his mother say. he then listens to multiple benefits this marriage is going to bring to both participants and while junhui is loyal and will never betray his family or the role they gave him in their business world, bitter taste in his mouth doesn't go away. he kind of wants to throw up or break something, but all he manages is a short: 'understood' and a curt nod to his driver, signaling him that they should go.

he meets you for the first time one week later and turns out that you are a lovely girl. obviously not thrilled at the idea of marrying someone your parents picked for you, but at least you're too polite and nice to lash it all out on junhui. he lets himself relax and open up a little, which then turns to a lot because there's something about you that makes him feel.. safe. secure. like he can actually say what he really thinks, talk about his feelings. it's equally freeing and scary.

'this doesn't have to become a nightmare for both of us,' you say quietly, looking up at him with serious eyes. 'we are both mature adults, we can work this out, right?'

junhui absentmindedly thinks that he hasn't seen you smile yet. he has a high suspicion that it suits you much more than this serious look and he suddenly really wants to see it. maybe be even the reason of it? 'i have no intention in making this horrible for you,' he answers sincerely. 'if anything, i'm really sorry that you've been dragged into this mess. i'll try my best to make it work for both of us, i promise.'

and ah, there is your smile. it does suit you way more and it did make junhui feel something funny in his chest. 'we have one week, wen junhui. let's make it count, yeah?'

and make it count you did. jun is nothing short of purposeful and he dedicated all of his planning to making sure this week before official wedding will be perfect. perfect in a way of it just being him and you without any distractions, learning more about each other. he watches you, listens to you, makes an effort to dig deeper and open up himself too and no one is more surprised than jun himself when week later he's actually excited to go and sign the papers.

'one ice latte and cinnabon bun for a beautiful girl with a sweet tooth,' he announces, carefully placing both items on the table in front of you. your eyes light up and light blush dusts your cheek and jun has never been more thankful for his attention to details and good memory. if he can make you smile like that just by doing such simple things, he's fine with doing them for the rest of his life. 'how are you feeling, my future wife? ecstatic?'

'almost fainting from enthusiasm,' you deadpan but smile you give him is real. 'what about you, my future husband? happy beyond belief?'

junhui pauses. answer comes out of his mouth before he can think it through: 'i am, actually.'

he watches your eyes widen at this and atmosphere changes from funny banter to something heavy and serious. and maybe he can take it back, but he doesn't want to. he is happy. god, he's more happy than he's ever been in his life, so excited of the prospect of having all this time to spend with you, to get closer to you, to maybe - just maybe, cause a guy can hope, right? - turn this arranged 'fake' marriage into something real. and it's probably so stupid to think this way, to be this attracted to the person you know for one week only, but he can't help it. you are good, and nice, and thoughtful, and funny, and oh so lovely - junhui is a strong guy, but he's not a robot, he couldn't not fall for you. his mind runs a mile in a second but it all quiets down when you reach out and take his hand in yours. slowly, like you're afraid to spook him, you interlace fingers together, clasping them in a tight lock. junhui stops breathing. could it be that you-?

'i am happy, too.' you say and you're serious and honest, he can feel it. 'i was so against this whole thing at first but then i met you and.. i'm happy, junhui. i'm happy that it's you.'

very few things can faze wen junhui - but you? you are the only one who gets past blank stares and emotionless replies, you get to see the real him and you somehow liked what you saw. just for that junhui is ready to give you the world.

'i promise we will work this out,' jun says, throat surprisingly tight with emotions. 'i promise this will not become a cage or a nightmare for you. i promise it'll grow into something...' beautiful just like you? lovely just like your smile? '..real.'

the smile you gift him is brighter than sun itself. 'something real?' you stand up and get closer to him. 'i'd like that very much, wen junhui.'

very few things can faze wen junhui - but you? his hand shakes when he signs the paper and for the first time ever he feels...hopeful. he takes one look at you and sees you already looking at him with a small smile on your face. with confidence, he reaches out and you meet him halfway, locking your hands together. for some reason, looking into your eyes, junhui is more than sure that this 'real' will work out just perfectly.

a/n: i know everyone is used to me being more poetic but my brain kind of shut down and this is what happened. hope you still liked it, let me know, come say hi! - nini

my other works can be found here

[mintyys-blog]

JUST A GAME | bart allen x reader

DC COMICS MASTERLIST | WARNINGS: jealous

a/n: couldn’t reply to the direct ask

The arcade lights were a blur of neon reds and electric blues, the air humming with the sounds of vintage game music and button mashing. It was rare that the Outsiders got a night off, and even rarer that Gar let it be fun instead of a team-building exercise disguised as training.

You had a bucket of tokens in one hand and a soda in the other, casually leaning against a machine while scanning the crowd.

“Yo!” Bart skidded to a stop beside you, sneakers squeaking slightly on the floor. “You, uh, using that racing game?”

You glanced at it, then back at him with a small smile. “Thinking about it.”

Bart chuckled, rubbing the back of his neck. “Cool. Cool. I just… saw it was open and, you know, figured I’d check in. Not that I was watching or anything.” His words came faster than usual—not in a super speed way, just… nervous fast.

You raised an eyebrow. “Watching who?”

Bart’s eyes darted away. “Nobody. You. I mean—not you you. Like, the general… area. That you’re standing in.”

You smirked.

Before the moment could go any further, Cissie stepped up, inserting herself smoothly between you and Bart. “Hey, Bart,” she said brightly. “Wanna try that claw machine again with me? You were, like, this close to getting that stuffed tiger earlier.”

Bart blinked, caught off guard. “Uh—right. Yeah. Maybe in a sec.”

Her smile tightened. “You’ve been hanging around this machine for a while.”

Bart shrugged. “I’m just pacing myself.”

Cissie’s eyes flicked briefly to you, and even though her smile didn’t fade, something in her gaze sharpened.

“Come on,” she said lightly, tugging at Bart’s sleeve. “You promised you’d win me a prize.”

You pretended to be busy sipping your drink, but your ears were wide open.

“I did?” Bart asked, genuinely confused.

“You said ‘I got you next time,’” Cissie reminded him, almost pouting. “This is next time.”

Bart gave a sheepish laugh. “Right, right… I guess I did.”

As she led him away, he glanced over his shoulder at you, eyes catching yours for just a second. Quick. Soft. But enough.

You looked down, trying to hide the sudden warmth in your face.

⸻

Later, you wandered past the photo booth and saw Bart leaning against it, alone now, fiddling with some tickets he’d won.

He noticed you immediately. “Hey,” he said, quieter this time. “Claw machine was rigged.”

“Was it?” you teased. “Or did you just want an excuse to sneak off?”

He smiled, almost shy. “Maybe both.”

Before you could say anything else, Cissie appeared again, tickets in hand. She looked between the two of you, expression neutral—but her posture was tighter now.

“There you are,” she said to Bart. “Thought we were trading tickets.”

Bart gave a little laugh, glancing at you before pushing off the booth. “Right. Let’s go, team effort.”

As they walked off together, Bart looked back once more, mouthing a quick, subtle: save me.

You smiled and shook your head.

He might have been fast, but when it came to his feelings for you… he was taking it slow. And somehow, that made it even sweeter.

You didn’t even mean to mention it out loud.

You and Bart were walking past the prize counter, looking at the ridiculous number of tickets needed to win anything worthwhile. He was cracking jokes about the tiny plastic rings and off-brand candy, and you were laughing… until you spotted it.

A stuffed alien—not scary, more adorable than anything. Round face, oversized eyes, three-fingered hands clutching a little heart. Probably meant to be cheesy. But something about it made your face light up.

“That one’s cute,” you said, pointing casually. “Way too many tickets, though.”

“Yeah,” Bart said quietly. “Kinda crazy, huh?”

And that was it. You didn’t think twice about it. But when you turned to look at him again, Bart’s smile seemed softer… thoughtful, even.

You didn’t press it.

Instead, you patted your stomach and glanced around. “I’m starving. Think I’m gonna grab something from the snack bar. You coming?”

Bart blinked, then quickly shook his head. “Nah, I’m good. I’m just gonna… mess around a little more.”

“Alright,” you said, heading off with a wave. “Don’t bankrupt the token machine.”

He gave a small laugh, but the moment you walked away, he was already on the move.

⸻

Twenty Minutes Later…

The rest of the team had gathered by a row of tables near the pizza counter, laughing and swapping stories. You had a slice of greasy pizza on your plate and a cherry slush in hand, but your mind drifted a little.

Where was Bart?

You hadn’t seen him in a while.

Unbeknownst to you, Bart had gone full-on mission mode—whipping through games with practiced precision, maximizing every point, snatching perfect jackpots with calculated moves. He was a blur of focus and determination, eyes occasionally darting to the prize counter to check on the plush.

Cissie had passed by once, but Bart didn’t even notice her. He was zoned in.

Finally, after what felt like a thousand tickets and an entire bucket of tokens, he hit his goal.

With a triumphant, quiet little “Yes!” to himself, Bart zipped to the prize counter, exchanging the tickets as casually as possible—heart hammering like he’d just fought a villain instead of an arcade machine.

He tucked the plush behind his back and waited.

⸻

As the team was heading out…

Everyone was gathering by the exit, talking about where to go next. You were laughing at something Virgil said when you felt a tap on your shoulder.

You turned.

“Bart! Oh my god!” you gasped, eyes wide as he revealed the very same stuffed alien you’d pointed out earlier. You immediately snatched it from his hands, holding it to your chest like a treasure.

“You—how did you even—? That’s, like… so many tickets!”

He shrugged casually, trying to play it cool. “Guess I got lucky.”

You didn’t hesitate.

You leaned in and kissed his cheek, giggling. “Thank you! I love it.”

Bart went still, blinking a few times before a small, crooked smile crept onto his face. “Worth every ticket,” he muttered, cheeks flushed.

Cissie stood a few feet away, frozen mid-step, eyes locked on the two of you. She didn’t say anything—but the way her smile faded ever so slightly didn’t go unnoticed by Violet, who gently looped her arm around Cissie’s and steered her toward the zeta tube.

You clutched the stuffed alien like it was magic, falling in step beside Bart.

“Wanna walk with me?” you asked.

His face lit up instantly. “Yeah. Yeah, totally.”

As the rest of the team headed off, you and Bart stayed just a little behind—close, quiet, and wrapped in that soft, shy kind of warmth that only comes from something real starting to bloom.

[yuurivoice]

A few quick update notes because idk where to conveniently post all of this publicly.

Still mowing through Cameos. I'm about 1/5 of the way through them. Will be working late tonight and tomorrow.

Charlie 4/20 & Bunny Finn Easter probably not happening, or coming later than intended because I've been fighting my brain and body the past week and shit just is not happening on time.

I'm trying to work around scheduled downtime in the coming days as my current booth needs to be disassembled and the new big boy booth is assembled on Thursday. Trying to receive a big ass shipment has also proven complicated, so that's fun!

Other shit still in the pipeline, but maybe there'll be one thing scheduled in the coming days that we can scream about.

Anywho, hell of a time for my shit to go off the rails, this is why I don't like taking commissions at all, even if they're simple...because life happens and I don't like keeping people waiting when my brain and body are so unreliable sometimes.

Most people were able to follow the rules, and those who didn't haven't gone so far out of bounds that I needed to outright reject any of the Cameos, but it definitely does add to the amount of thinking required. The entire reason I went the Cameo message route is because I can pretty easily just see a two sentence prompt and improvise an in-character message covering that subject while keeping it fresh and unique to each character. I literally had someone use the same prompt for three characters and surprise, I could easily give them all a unique vibe without it sounding too similar...hell yeah.

It has largely been a good, fun experience, I just struggle with the sheer mass of all of them (there's 70+ now) and next time I may have to limit the amount of them if there's any hope for me to actually keep turnaround times manageable.

That's a lot of words for what probably sounds like the opposite of a problem (it is a very good problem to have, obviously) but I just wanted folks to know I'm not slapping these on a printing press and churning them out, or reusing sound bytes for similar prompts, etc. Each one is unique and I try to keep a fresh slate in my brain when I tackle them to avoid two people getting a thing that is too similar.

So while yeah, those quick turnaround times were REALLY AMBITIOUS AND UNREALISTIC lol the slower time allows me to do my best and make sure people get a real genuine take out of the character. If I sat down for six hours and did as many as I could, I think by the third hour I would find myself struggling to avoid saying the same shit again and again because many people want similar things. The biggest one, comfort. Because shit is scary and times are hard and a lot of folks feel like they're fighting and fighting and fighting and don't see a light at the end of the tunnel. So I don't want to just...have a bunch of talking points delivered the same way a dozen times within an hour. I want to give y'all something better than that, at least.

Again, the Cameos were an experiment, so I expected some hiccups along the way. It hasn't been bad at all, and it really is nice to be able to give people the exact thing they need to hear at the moment. There's just a lot of it!

Whew. Big yap. Enough procrastination. Thanks for your patience!

[beachbabe000]

Scary Movies // Matt Sturniolo

Summary: Matt comes over unannounced as you're watching a scary movie.

Content Warning: Masturbation, language, Penetration, matt x reader

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

I pulled the blanket up higher on my body, the tv casting the only light in the room. I decided to take a night to myself away from work, friends etc. I decided on laying in bed pretty much all day reading and watching tv, a good time of resting.

By this point it was around 9 am and I was finally getting bored. I had a thought out of nowhere. It’s been a while since I’ve gotten off and I could feel the frustration building over that amount of time.

I reached over and opened my nightstand drawer, pulling out my favorite purple vibrator. I threw my blanket off and pulled my shorts down. Lightly grazing my fingertips down my stomach, I reached my clit. I started rubbing small gentle circles at first. Once I felt myself getting wet, I turned on my vibrator and placed it over my clit.

I started to feel tension build in my abdomen. The tv still on in the background making noise that I couldn’t even make out anymore. The room started to go black as my release was coming over me.

“Oh shit.” I heard a whisper causing me to stop in a sudden motion. I’m surprised I heard even that with the state I was in. I’m lightheaded and still processing what just happened. Looking over into the doorway of my bedroom I see Matt standing there.

Me and Matt are good friends. Have been for about a year. It got to the point I even gave him a key to my house. But he’s never come over unannounced before until now. Perfect timing for that.

“Matt. What are you doing? Why didn’t you call?” He just looked at me in a daze. His eyes hooded and his lips parted. He licked his lips to wet them after his breath had dried them out when he realized I was talking to him. How long had he been standing there? “I did.” he said barely above a whisper. “You didn’t answer. Now I see why.” He looked from my face to my bare body and back to my face again. I then remembered I was naked. In front of Matt.

I pulled the blanket over me in haste. “Let’s just not talk about this, okay? Pretend it didn’t happen?”

The blanket now covering my body allowed him to give me his full attention. He shook his head and rubbed his forehead, his eyes closed. “Yeah, sorry y/n. I didn’t mean to intrude. Um, yeah let’s just do that. So, what are we watching?” He drops his bag on the floor that had been sloppily hanging from his shoulder the entire time. Looks like he was planning to stay the night, which isn’t unusual. We’ve had many sleepovers before.

He plopped himself down on my bed on the side I don’t usually sleep on. “Uh, um, it’s a horror movie.” I sunk down back into the bed trying to get comfortable, but it just wasn’t happening.

“I like horror movies.” He also looked uncomfortable. Though the attempt to relax was there for him as well.

We were a bit through the movie before we both started to finally relax. His arm naturally found its way slung over the back of the pillows and I was cuddled on my side towards him. My head facing the tv. We normally have never had a problem touching. Me laying my head on his arm or something small like that.

There was one part of the movie that made me jump practically out of my skin, pulling a laugh from Matt. This also caused me to laugh. It was probably the most comfortable we’ve been with each other all night.

He looked down at me. “You scared?” He was smiling in a teasing way. “No! I never get scared.” I huffed looking to and away from him. He chuckled, “Yeah. Okay.”

His hand found its way from the back of the pillows to my shoulder, trailing his fingers up and down. It was extremely comforting and something he normally does. He knows I like physical touch and it was his attempt to calm me down from fearing the movie.

My body naturally moved towards his and I laid my head on his chest. He responded by wrapping his arm around me. We were almost to the end of the movie when there was another jump scare that got me again. He laughed. “Wimp.” I hit his chest. “Shut up.”

He looked down at me and rubbed circles on my shoulder. “You know, those sounds you were making when I got here were pretty cute.” My body froze. I didn’t expect him to say anything like that. Or even acknowledge the incident anymore. I looked up at him with a face of shock.

He was smiling down at me, “I’d really like to hear them again.” His smirk made me melt; his words made me shiver. I opened my mouth to speak but nothing was coming out. He took this opportunity to lean down and capture my open mouth in his, sliding his tongue in before I could lock my lips fully onto his. A moan from the surprise escaped my lips. I could feel the spot between my legs start to pulsate as it grew wet.

His hand tightened on my shoulder as the other one found my hip and turned me towards him. We shared many heated kisses before my arms wrapped around his neck and pulled him on top of me. His legs tangled in mine as his hands pulled my hips up into his. He grinded into me causing me to make a small whimper. He broke the kiss to look at me, “You okay to go further?” All I could do in my starstruck state was nod.

He reached for the bottom of my shirt and pulled it up and over my head, discarding it to the floor. “God you’re beautiful.” He took in the sight of my naked torso before connecting his lips with mine again. His hand snaked its way up to my breast giving it a gentle squeeze. I bucked my hips into his. He groaned into my mouth and gripped my breast harder.

He reached down and unbuttoned my pants, starting to pull them down and over my feet. Discarding his own shirt and pants afterwards. He kissed me again and rubbed his hand down my stomach to my now soaked pussy. “Fuck. You’re so wet.” He looked down at his hand while sticking a finger inside of me. I moaned moving my hands to his shoulders. He looked back up at me. “This feel good?” He breathed, his nose grazing mine.

I nodded in response, unable to form words anymore. He added another finger looking for my reactions. One of my hands found the sheet by my body and gripped it in my fingers. My eyes squeezed shut as I leaned my head back into the pillow with a low moan. He swooped down and started leaving sloppy wet kisses on my neck.

He took his fingers out of me and moved his hand to his member, stroking it with my juices. He moaned, throwing his head back. “I’m gunna fuck you so hard. Those noises you were making are nothing compared to the ones I’m going to bring out of you.”

With that statement he then rubbed his tip against my wet folds, and before I knew it, he was inside me. He thrusted himself into me so roughly my entire body moved. “Oh my god!” A loud moan came out of me as my hands threw up to grab his shoulders, keeping myself in place.

He started pumping in and out of me, not even taking time to let me get used to him. The sudden constant contact brought loud moans and whimpers from my throat. Leaning down to nip my neck, he was definitely leaving marks.

Then somehow, he thrusted even harder and faster. I was basically screaming at this point. His name coming out of my mouth as if it were my last words I’d ever speak. He was groaning and moaning so loud, and looked down at me to make eye contact when he could. His eyes were full of lust and adoration of the effect he was having on me.

“Fuck Matt I’m going to come. Please don’t stop!” He grabbed my hips tighter and moved them with his own, gaining deeper access. This caused my orgasm to come faster than I thought it would. I clenched around his dick, and he could feel my release coat him. “That’s right baby, come all over me. Fuck!” His last groan came with his own release. His eyes rolled to the back of his head. His grip on me so tight that I’d have bruises in the morning.

I could feel him pulse inside of me before pulling out. His hands moved from my hips to the sides of my head as he fell over me. We tried to catch our breaths while still feeling the effects of our high. Once we recovered, he got up to grab something to clean me and himself up, then landed back on the bed next to me. He wrapped his arms around my waist and pulled me into him, creating a new warmth between us. “Told you I’d make those sounds louder.” He breathed in my ear, still a little out of breath. He kissed my cheek, and I looked back at him. “Wanna watch another scary movie?” He chuckled, “Only if you jump in my arms again. Maybe we can go for round two and this time you could jump onto something else.” He smirked down at me wiggling his eyebrows. I just chuckled slapping his arm and grabbed the remote.

[xo-myloves]

hii it’s my first time requesting so if i do anything wrong pls let me know! (hope ur having an amazing day/night!💗) could i pls req slash and axl (or izzy) finding the reader literally just on lsd for the first time and them being sweet and trip sitting? then when she comes down just telling her off for taking it like disappointed parents lmaoo

༞༞༞༞𝙰𝚛𝚎 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚏𝚞𝚌𝚔𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚔𝚒𝚍𝚍𝚒𝚗𝚐 𝚖𝚎༞༞༞

The walls were melting. Not in a scary way, not in a holy-shit-the-devil-is-coming-for-me way—more like a warm, golden ripple, like everything had turned to honey under a slow summer sun. Your hands weren’t hands anymore; they were soft, glowing trails of light, moving in slow motion as you reached for something that wasn’t there.

Then the door slammed open, and suddenly the air snapped back into itself.

Axl. And Izzy.

Axl was first. He didn’t just walk in—he stormed in, boots hitting the floor with enough force to make it known that he was already pissed. His red hair fell in his face, and his green eyes flicked over you with something between exasperation and disbelief. Izzy followed a second later, quieter, but not any less intense. He leaned in the doorway, arms crossed, his expression unreadable.

You stared at them, blinking slow. “Whoa.”

Izzy tilted his head. “Yeah, whoa.”

Axl’s nostrils flared. “The fuck did you do?”

You grinned, stretching your fingers and watching the tracers follow. “Took a little trip.” You giggled. “My hands aren’t hands.”

Axl turned to Izzy, jerking a thumb at you. “This is fucking great. This is just great.” He looked back at you, crouching slightly to get in your face. “Who gave it to you?”

Your brain was molasses. Words stretched like gum in your mouth. “Some guy.”

Izzy pushed off the doorframe and stepped closer, his movements slow, deliberate. “What kind of guy?”

You blinked up at him. His voice was smooth, measured, like he already knew the answer but wanted to hear you say it anyway. His dark hair fell over his cheekbones as he studied you, hands still tucked under his arms.

You shrugged. “A guy-guy. Just… a guy.”

Axl let out a sharp laugh, rubbing his hands down his face. “You hear this shit, Izzy? She took drugs from some guy.” He leaned in again, lowering his voice. “You know how many guys would love to fuck you up with some bad acid? Ever hear of a bad trip? Huh?”

Izzy sighed, stepping past Axl and crouching in front of you. His hands finally uncrossed, resting on his knees as he studied you. “Alright,” he said, voice low and even, like he was trying to soothe a wild animal. “How much did you take?”

You tilted your head. His movements left trails in the air. He looked like a painting. A really pretty painting. “I dunno. A tab? Maybe two?” You frowned. “I lost count.”

Axl made a noise like he was physically restraining himself from strangling you.

Izzy just nodded once, slow. “Okay. You’re riding it out, then.” He glanced over at Axl. “We’re staying.”

Axl threw up his hands. “Oh, we’re staying? Yeah, sure, let’s just sit here all night and babysit her tripping ass.” But he didn’t leave. He started pacing, hands on his hips, mumbling to himself.

Izzy turned back to you, his gaze locked on yours. “Alright, listen,” he said, voice quiet but firm. “You need to breathe. Drink water. Whatever you’re feeling, it’s just the drug. It’ll pass.”

You nodded, but your head felt like it floated a few seconds behind your body. “You’re so…” You reached out, touching his arm, feeling the warmth of his leather jacket under your fingertips. “Real.”

Izzy’s lips twitched. “Yeah. Real.” He grabbed a water bottle off the table and handed it to you. “Drink.”

You obeyed. The water was incredible. Like drinking liquid stars. You let out a little gasp. “Holy shit.”

Axl shook his head. “This is hell.”

The night stretched on. Izzy stayed next to you, keeping you tethered to reality. He didn’t talk much—just the occasional “you good?” or “drink more.” When things got too weird, he squeezed your wrist, just enough pressure to remind you that you were still here, still you.

Axl, despite all his complaining, made sure the lights stayed dim, that no one else barged in, that the music didn’t get too intense.

And then—finally—you came down.

The world settled. The air wasn’t buzzing anymore. The floor didn’t feel like it would dissolve under you. You just felt tired. Worn out.

And that’s when it happened.

“What the fuck is wrong with you?” Axl snapped, rounding on you like an angry parent. “Do you just take sht from anyone? You got a fucking death wish?”

You groaned, rubbing your temples. “Jesus, Axl—”

“No, Jesus, Axl nothing. You’re lucky we found you like this. What if it had been some fing psycho? What if it was laced? What if you freaked the fuck out and jumped out a window?”

You opened your mouth, then closed it. Those… were actually fair points.

Izzy sighed, lighting a cigarette, shaking his head as he exhaled. “Dumb move, kid.”

You looked up at him, bleary. “You’re not mad?”

He took a slow drag, then exhaled again. “Oh, I’m mad.” He gestured at you with the cigarette. “Just not surprised."

Axl threw his hands up. “Not surprised?! That’s even worse! This is the dumbest shit I’ve ever seen.”

You groaned, flopping onto the couch. “Okay, I get it. No more LSD.”

Axl crossed his arms. “Damn right, no more LSD.”

Izzy just smirked, taking another drag. “Well. At least not without a trip sitter.”

Axl shot him a look. “Not helping, Iz.”

Izzy shrugged. “Just saying.”

You smiled, sleep tugging at the edges of your mind. Maybe it had been reckless. Maybe it had been dumb. But at least you weren’t alone.

Even if they were pissed, they still had your back.

[thebestofoneshots]

Gilded Constellations | (wolfstar x reader)

Series Masterlist | Previous episode

Pairing: Wolfstar x Reader Word Count: 8.8 K Warnings: None Prompt: It's finally time to test Peter's theory? Will all the cuddles be worth for something or will things end terribly wrong? It is time for Vixen to face Moony. This IS a Wolfstar x reader fic, but it's incredibly slow burn. They won't start all dating each other until we're very deep into the story, but I promise the long wait will be worth it. Proofread by lovelies: @aremuslupinsimp and @nagareboshi-chiyo (for the French <3)

Chapter 39: Running With the Pack

Wednesday, December 22nd. 5:37 PM

As you leaned closer to the dark tunnel that had once haunted you, you took a deep breath and stared into the vast darkness. You had run through it so many times in your dreams, crawled out of it as you were chased by a giant wolf about ready to turn you to shreds, broken your nails as you dug your fingers through the dirt and now, now you would slide down, and walk all the way to the wolf’s den, willingly. 

What once had been scary, keeping you awake at night in fear of going back to it, was now drawing you in, a magnetism so strong it was almost irresistible. You took a deep breath and then smiled, greeting the darkness like an old friend rather than a foe, and letting yourself fall down the dark rabbit hole that would take you to the wolf. But not just any wolf, to Moony. Your best friend Moony. Your Moony. 

The beautiful wolf you had had the grace of witnessing once before you had to run from it, the large creature with claws as sharp as honed blades and fangs that could pierce skin as one might tear through a fragile sheet of paper, eyes so sharp they could follow you through the forest before you even had enough time to think of an escape route– but they were kind too. Golden and dangerous and beautiful. They shone with the kindness of your friend, of the man behind the sleek coat of fur that shimmered with the moonlight. The eyes of the soft-spoken boy that smelled of chocolate and old books, of the one that had been kind enough to show you through the school and cheered you up after a rough day after merely days of meeting you. 

They called you insane for throwing your wand on the floor as the wolf advanced on you, but you had not been looking at the wolf then, you had been looking at him, at your best friend. That had gotten you almost killed, seeing the beauty in chaos might be a noble trait, but a dangerous one nonetheless. 

You now knew what a terrible idea that had been, Remus had not spared a chance to remind you of your recklessness, and perhaps you needed it, being mesmerised by the wolf was not an excuse for getting murdered. Either way, you’d be lying if you said the prospect of seeing the wolf up close –even as Vixen– wasn’t exciting. 

“Sirius?” you whispered, he was a few steps ahead, walking with his wand held high and a Lumos charm. James was just a few steps behind and Peter had gotten ahead as Wormtail, to make sure Remus was still Remus when you got there.  

“Yeah, Luv?” he asked. 

“Are we too far?” you asked and revised your clock “It’s 6:00 pm already, and the moon comes out in about a quarter of an hour.” 

You had never walked through the tunnel, you had only ran through it, and you would be lying if you said that it didn’t feel much longer now than it did back then. Not that the path hadn’t felt eternal while you were running and throwing spells at Moony, but you were rather certain that that had to do a lot more with your own perception of time than time itself. 

“We’re less than 5 minutes away,” James responded, he too had been keeping an eye on the clock, trying to make sure that things would be alright. 

Sirius slowed his pace until he reached beside you and whispered, “Nox,” over his wand, he placed a hand over your shoulders, drawing you close to him as he pointed deeper into the tunnel, “See that light reflection?” he asked. You nodded in response. “It’s the door you blew up last time you were here.” 

You looked at him with a frown and then back at the place he was pointing at, Remus must have told him, you realised as you saw it, and you picked up your pace, almost sprinting towards it. Sirius turned to James who gave him a shrug and the two boys ran behind you. 

You reached the door just under two minutes later, and you brushed your hand over the hinges, “You fixed it?” you asked as you turned to the boys, who were just behind you. 

“Peter and I did, when we brought Remus over after the last moon,” James responded. 

“It was in an awful condition,” you replied, remembering the Bombarda you had used and how many of the pieces of the door had flown about the room, you were pretty sure you had turned it to shreds. 

“Yeah,” James agreed with a diverted smile.

You looked at the door a little closer now and located the thick bar of metal that held it in place, you brought your hand under it and started pushing it up. There was a click and the door snapped open, Remus was on the other side, he was leaning on a bed, bouncing one of his legs up and down while looking right ahead. He turned to you shortly after and seemed relieved to see everyone there. Peter was still Wormtail, and he was sleeping on a worn-out pillow on the floor. He hadn’t been sleeping well that week, staying up late to work on the final projects he had left for the last minute (It had been all of them). 

You walked forwards and sat beside Remus on the edge of the bed, “How are we feeling?”, you asked. James sat beside you and Sirius had plopped down on the floor, staring up at the three of you. 

“Fantastic!” he said sarcastically. 

You pushed him with your shoulder lightly, having him crash against James, “Don’t be such a downer.” 

“You can still leave.” 

You let yourself fall back into the mattress. “No thanks.” 

Sirius laughed from the floor and considered whether it would be a good or a bad idea to jump on top. Perhaps it wouldn’t be too clever, at least not with how nervous Remus was. 

Remus sighed with your reply, “But what if it doesn’t work?” 

“It will,” Sirius reassured. 

“But what if it doesn’t?” 

“Then we go for plan B,” you responded as if it was the simplest course of action. 

“What if you’re not fast enough?” 

“Werewolves don’t eat animals,” you said. 

“No, but we can kill them,” Remus muttered as he remembered the time he had killed a squirrel that had walked close to his cage when he was 7. He had cried about it for weeks and even asked his parents to bury her in the garden. He called her Juliette, since his mom had been reading Romeo and Juliette to lull him to sleep back then and he knew she would die in the end. 

“Remus!” you whined as you bumped your knee into his, “Drop the negativity, would you?” 

It’s not that you didn’t have doubts of your own, but it was easier to ignore them and be brave about it if he was not repeating all the ways that things could go wrong over and over again. 

“Sorry,” he said. 

James let himself fall on the bed, imitating your earlier action, “I’m sure it will work,” he said, “Besides you’ve been doing research about it, right Vix?” 

“I think I read more about werewolves and wolves this past month than I did for classes,” you sighed.

“I can confirm that,” Sirius said, he’d been going to the library with you too, and he’d read just as much. 

You had also talked to Damocles and asked him about the potion, to use as a failsafe in case the plan didn’t work, he said he was still working on it but that he hoped he’d have it ready at some point next year. He had also given you all his notes on werewolves since you had asked if he had anything other than the ones he’d given you at first, and while those had been useful to learn about Moony, none of them helped you either prove or refute your theory. 

“Right,” Remus said as he started bouncing his leg again. And then he bent down a little bit. When he looked up at Sirius, his eyes were completely golden. James stood up and turned into Prongs in the blink of an eye, standing defensively as he stared at Remus. Remus was now clawing at his own shirt to try and take it off, last time he had ripped it to shreds and he didn’t want the same thing to happen to this one. Sirius stood forward and helped him get it off. 

You saw, this time even more than the last, how his skin started to rip, but you also got a small glimpse of his muscly back, and while the potion had already worn off, you’d be lying if you said he didn’t have a very nice and defined one. 

“Turn,” he said as he placed his hands on his pants. You instantly turned your head to the wall. 

“Into Vixen!” Sirius said, almost laughing at your instant reaction. Remus would have laughed too if he hadn’t been busy trying to hold back the cries of pain that threatened to leave his mouth.

“You too,” he said as he looked at Sirius who had placed a comforting hand on his shoulder. 

“It’s fine,” Sirius countered. You were already Vixen, and you were still looking at the wall, tail waving restlessly as you heard Remus whimper. “I’ll do it right before you’re Moony.” 

“Sirius,” Remus said as he tightened his jaw to hold back another groan and ended up stifling a whimper instead. 

“You’re not going to change my mind,” he said as he helped Remus kneel on the floor. 

“Sirius.” 

“I’ve got it under control.” 

But I don’t, Remus thought as he tightened his fist on the floor, scratching the wood with his nails, which were a lot more claws than nails themselves.

“Sirius!” 

“Moony, we’ve been through this, just let me help,” Sirius insisted as he tightened his grip on Remus’ shoulder, reassuringly. 

Remus huffed and turned to Sirius angrily, his eyes were menacingly golden now. But Sirius held his stare, a reassuring smile on his face as he tightened the grip on his shoulder again and sent Remus a wink. Remus would have scoffed if he’d had the chance, but he ended up just bending over a bit more and letting his head fall over Sirius’s shoulder, who was now helping to hold him up. Remus would be lying if he said he didn’t enjoy the closeness to Sirius. There was something about his hand on his bare back and the feel of his curls crashing against his face, that was dreadfully comforting. 

If only he could bask in those feelings at any moment other than when he was about to turn into a fucking werewolf. He couldn’t though, because those hands, those curls and those beautiful lips of his belonged to someone else. To the pretty fox waving her tail desperately on the bed as she struggled to not turn her head. But then he felt it, the Wolf gnawing at him and taking his agency away, locking him up in the cage of his mind, his last ounce of control slipping away. 

“Siri-us…” His voice broke near the end. And you couldn’t take it anymore you turned your head to look at the two boys and barked as Sirius. Your best friend’s face was already turning into a snout, but Sirius looked awfully calm as he held him between his arms.

You barked again, now more desperately and jumped towards Sirius, pulling at his shirt with your snout. Remus tried to push you away so that you weren’t that close to the wolf when he came about but his hand was no longer a hand anymore and his paw ended up accidentally bopping your head. You looked at him reproachfully and barely managed to make out his wince. You barked again, and this time Sirius actually listened, he turned into a Padfoot and seconds later, Moony let out a shrieking howl, no wonder that’s what they called this place. 

Moony stood straight and imposing, last time you had tried to escape from him as a fox, you hadn’t had time to actually see him, too busy running the hell away. But this time around, you could see how much more bigger and imposing he looked to Vixen, as if he wasn’t imposing enough to you already. 

At first, Moony seemed disoriented, but then he spotted Padfoot, who stood just a few feet from him and he howled again, this time around a much more playful one. The black dog imitated him and then Moony jumped his way, raising his front paws and letting them fall over Pads who barked happily. Moony was nibbling on Pads’ left ear while the dog continued to bark excitedly. And then, he spotted you. 

He stopped the nibbling and tilted his head to the side as if analysing the intruder. He narrowed his eyes at you and bared his teeth, growling lightly as if telling you to step away, he felt Padfoot tense underneath as he too turned to you, but the dog had a worried face instead of a menacing one. 

Every single instinct on your fox self was telling you to run. To find a small nook in a wall and crawl inside of it like you had done the previous moon. Alarms blaring in your brain loudly urging you to step away, to pull back, to hide. But you held your stance, you knew the wolf was trying to scare you because he didn’t recognize you, and it was his immediate reaction. He probably remembered you from the last moon too, the fox that had gotten away. 

But this time around you weren’t planning to run from him, you’d held your stance until he leaned forward curiously, or until he did it intending to eat. You pulled your head a little higher and he barked at Padfoot, a simple question: «Who is she?»

Padfoot barked a much simpler answer in return «A friend».

The wolf narrowed his eyes at Padfoot now and slipped his paws off the black dog’s back. You were so used to how big Padfoot was in comparison to Vixen, that seeing the wolf standing right beside him, with the staggering difference between Pads and Moony –who was much bigger and much more imposing– was a little daunting, but you fought the urge to flee, imposing yourself over Vixen’s more animal side.  

The wolf tilted his head again and started walking in your direction, one paw after the other, looking every bit like the regal beast of the night it was. You found yourself resisting the urge to step back again, looking at the wolf and tilting your own head slightly to the side. You didn’t say a thing but it was clear what you meant «I’m not afraid of you». 

Moony snarled again, baring his teeth at you «Your heartbeat says otherwise».

You barked this time «Try me». Padfoot intervened this time around and barked a warning to you. And you held your tongue from barking anything else, regardless you were looking at Moony attentively, keeping your stance as calm as possible. 

The wolf walked close enough to tower over you, and you stood still, he leaned his head down, leaning on his front paws to level it with Vixen’s, and he stared. 

You held his stare again, a lot calmer now that you could see his eyes, there he is, hidden beneath the fur, your friend. You could always see Remus through Moony’s eyes. The wolf noticed your change in demeanour, not understanding why the closer he was the calmer you seemed to be. You leaned your head forward a little and bumped your snout with his much bigger one in a teasing manner and he pulled back with a frown.

«Careful», Padfoot barked. You ignored him, deciding to tease the wolf a little further as you jumped forward and bit one of his legs playfully.

Moony looked as scandalised as a wolf could, his features conveying a mix of confusion and irritation in the face of such unexpected audacity. How could this tiny little animal tease him like such, he was sure he could split you in half in one bite. Not that he wanted to, he was too curious to do it. Regardless, he reacted like you would expect any apex predator to react when bothered; he used his head to push you away from him, you rolled about half a metre to the side and ended up, belly-facing the ceiling as the wolf stalked towards you and snarled. 

Padfoot seemed just about to jump in your defence when Moony threw him a warning look and bared his teeth at him just like he had done to you, now vulnerably underneath him. 

Padfoot barked again, «friend» he reminded Moony.

He huffed in return and turned to look at you, your eyes locked with Padfoot’s who seemed to be telling you to stand back, but you knew whatever relationship you managed to develop with Moony forward, strongly depended on how you acted today with him, you had seen how playful he had been to Pads, perhaps you could have a similar experience.

You turned back to look at Moony who was looking at you with curiosity as if he was still trying to decipher your character, and you used one of your paws to hit his snout in a playful manner. He pulled back and snarled, you did it again and barked. When you tried to do it again, he held your paw in between his sharp teeth. Not biting strong enough to break skin.

You heard Prong’s hooves crashing on the floor, as if he was ready to push Moony off of you, but everyone held their place. You had all agreed on a sign, a rather specific scream that foxes could make, and they had to stand back if you didn’t make said sound or they thought danger was imminent. 

You, on the other hand, looked like you were having fun as you teased the menacing wolf. You leapt forward enough to lightly bite his snout and he let your paw go in surprise, pulling back again as he stared at you. 

What was that? She smelled… familiar. 

«Friend?» he barked. 

«Friend» Padfoot confirmed. 

Moony leaned down closer to you again, his snout close to yours as he took in the way you smelled. He frowned, he was sure he had never been close enough for you to smell like him and yet, you did. Was it some kind of trick? Had you also tricked his friends? He pulled back, and stared, circling around as you turned back on your heels in the most playful of movements and sat on your back legs as an obedient little puppy. Turning your head only to follow the steps of the huge wolf. 

The initial urge to run had faded away and now, even the most primal and fox-like part of you was excited to continue playing with the wolf. He barked at you, and you barked back, a polite bark this time around. Eventually, and after circling you a few more times, Moony walked closer to you, leaning from the back and moving his snout close to Vixen’s body. 

First, it was close to your neck, then along your back and eventually, he leaned down to smell your belly again, meanwhile, you stood there, patiently letting him do his thing, allowing him to slowly realise you really were a friend. He pushed you to the side with his head and you pushed back. He gave you a warning look and you reluctantly did what he asked. Moving to a different side of the room where he repeated the entire thing again. 

Eventually, he stood right in front of you and laid down on his paws, staring at you with his eyes narrowed. You nudged him with your snout, and he gave you a dismissive look. And then you jumped forward and nibbled his ear like he had done to Sirius earlier. 

Wormtail turned his small head the other way around, thinking that would be the last straw for Moony. Perhaps you really were stupidly brave. But contrary to his expectation, Moony simply barked in response, clearly diverted. Even Padfoot seemed surprised. And after you bumped your paw against his snout again he reacted. You pulled back and barked yourself. 

«Catch me if you can».

Moony barked in response and stood from the ground, chasing after you as you moved around in circles and all over the small room in the shack, crossing over the furniture, the old raggedy sofa, up and down from the bed, under the bed, under the desk that seemed close to falling apart, close to the –now wide open– metal door, under the rundown piano, and many other pieces of furniture laying around.

Eventually, you ran under Padfoot and after Moony tried to also get in between his legs, he too joined the game. Wormtail and Prongs were looking at the whole thing with both incredulous and satisfied looks. Incredulous because Moony –who had been awfully hard to control the last full moons– was playing along the room all merry and bright like a puppy rather than the angry wolf they saw too often. And satisfied, because the plan had clearly worked. Moony had accepted you as part of the pack, in fact, Prongs would even dare say he liked you.  Perhaps as much as Remus liked your human self. He certainly seemed to be enjoying his time as he jumped about chasing you and Sirius as if you were all playing some canine version of tag. 

After a while of playing inside the shack, Padfoot barked as he leaned towards the door, Prongs, who had been sitting on his hooves as he lousily watched you play, since he was too big to join the game inside the small room where there was barely enough space for the two big dogs and the small fox to play around, stood up in an instant. And while Prongs –being a stag– did not speak canine, like Moony, Pads and you, it didn’t take a genius to know exactly what Sirius wanted.  

Prongs nodded, looking all regal in his Stag form –completely contrasting to his goofy human self– and walked towards the entrance, allowing Sirius to cross the door first and following right behind. You realised the opportunity you had then and decided to make the game a little bit more fun. You walked over to Moony, as casually as you could, and when you had the chance you bit his leg again. He growled at you in response and you took off running. 

«Catch me if you can» you barked again and crossed right underneath Prongs, who had merely a second to realise something small and swift was running under his legs and stopped moving entirely, trying to avoid stepping on you. Once you got past him you ran beside Padfoot who gave you a questioning look before turning his head backwards and realising the gigantic wolf stalking behind the two of you, being slowed down by Prongs who was too big for the narrow hall to allow both him and the wolf to pass through. 

Padfoot seemed about to panic when he saw the wolf chasing behind you, but when you bit him the same way you had bit the wolf just seconds ago, he realised you were playing, just like you had been inside the shack and started running just beside you, his legs were a lot longer, and he had easily gotten ahead of you. But that didn’t stop you from running as fast as you could, leaving the wolf and the stag behind. Once you reached the end of the tunnel, you crawled your way to the top. It was much easier to do it as a fox, you realised. Perhaps if you had been a fox back then, you wouldn’t have ended up as bruised as you had. 

Once you were up though, you saw Padfoot near the entrance, keeping himself there as he watched the Whomping Willow stir about. 

«Scared?» You barked. 

«Starshine, it’s dangerous» he barked in response.

You are scared then, you thought as you sprinted forward, zigzagging your way out of the willow’s reach and barking at Sirius a short «chicken» as you ran into the forest. You felt unbelievably free, and you were having the time of your life. 

Running as Vixen had always been a way for you to feel better, and after last moon, you never thought you’d consider running away while being chased by the same wolf that haunted your dreams would ever be enjoyable, not when you were hiding in the rock and not when you had been pulled by the tail with his mortifyingly strong jaws, and yet, here you were, biting his leg softly and inciting him to chase behind you, as a bIoody game. 

The fact that the association made the last moon, of running away from the big bad wolf, was changing so quickly after just hours of officially meeting and playing with Moony was insane. You didn't see running from the wolf as scary anymore, but rather, it was exhilarating. The cold air of the night filled your small lungs as you ran through the crisp and thin layer of snow underneath your paws. 

Was it cold? You were having so much fun you didn’t even realise it. You continued running all the way to the forest, not bothering to look back to see if the others had caught up with you, you could still smell them, they were far, but not that much. And if you could smell them, Prongs and Moony, who had the most developed senses in the gang, would definitely be able to find you, if you didn’t run fast enough, that was. 

So you kept running, twirling and zigzagging all over the forbidden forest as you did, to try and make sure to leave traces of your scent on as many places as possible, to try and confuse the boys into following fake trails and so you could continue running. 

You had just jumped over a dry branch when you felt something push you from the side, you rolled a few metres and took some time to figure out what was going on when you realised Moony was there, looking at you with what could be interpreted as a self-satisfied expression. He’d caught you. He pushed his snout next to your neck since you were still looking at him as you tried to get back on your feet and then howled. A loud, high-pitched sound that reverberated all over the forest. 

You barked in response «Congratulations, you won».

He howled again, and you knew what he wanted, and even if you were still on the ground secretly trying to catch your breath –even foxes get tired, you know?– you followed suit. Howling along with the big bad wolf like you were part of his pack. No, you were part of his pack, the precautions had worked, and this? This meant he’d accepted you.

Another howl floated through the wind, it wasn’t far but it wasn’t close either. It’s Padfoot, you realised after hearing the slight give of his voice. You wondered if you would have been able to tell it was Pads if you had been human or if knowing was inherently a fox thing. You sometimes found it fascinating that even though you had been a fox for almost as long as the boys had been their own animagi, there were still so many things for you to discover, perhaps it was because you hadn’t spent as much time as a fox as they had spent as their own animals. 

While you had roamed around the grounds of your old school as Vixen a couple of times, you had never really had time to explore that much, let alone to actually interact with other animals like you had done now. Heck, you didn’t even know you could talk with other canines while you were Vixen until a couple of days ago when Padfoot barked something at you and you understood exactly what he meant. It was so shocking to you at that moment that you had instantly turned into a human and accidentally crushed Remus awake. 

“Sirius!” you had said, eyes opened like saucers as you stared at your boyfriend turn back into his human form and look at you groggily as he rubbed his eyes, he had been half asleep. 

“What is it?” 

“You said something to me,” you whispered, “and I understood it.” 

Sirius frowned and gave Remus a look, by then you had already half gotten off of him after apologising for crushing him as you turned into yourself and were sitting on the bed as you leaned close to Sirius, your bent legs brushing against Remus’ torso.  

“Yeah, you speak canine when you’re Vixen.” 

“I what?!” 

“You didn’t know?” Remus asked as he placed a hand on your shoulder to get your attention, you turned to him and shook your head slowly as if still considering what he had said. 

“I assumed you’d know already,” Sirius said with a shrug. “You even ran when I told you to back on the last moon.” 

“Because it was the obvious thing to do…” 

“Are you sure you weren’t just understanding canine?” 

You swallowed and turned your gaze back to Remus, “You speak canine too?” 

He nodded in response, “At least when I’m Moony, I do.” 

“You talk to each other?” 

“I spent the last moon trying to calm him down while he wanted to pull you out of the rock,” Sirius responded.  

“Wait–” you said as you considered the new information the boys had given you. “Does that mean you can talk to other dogs?” 

“Yeah,” Sirius said with a nod. “Did you never encounter a fox out in the wild yourself?” 

“Well, I– I didn’t stay as a fox too long when I was in my old school. Didn’t have much free time. And I had more roommates.” 

“And no cuddle mates,” Sirius joked and yawned, turning back into Padfoot seconds after. He then barked. 

Remus gave you a look, “He says we should go back to sleep.” 

“Thought you only understood when you were Moony.” 

He huffed a laugh, “Doesn’t take a genius to know what Padfoot wants,” he said as he opened his arms out. “Come on, get back here, you have to wake up early tomorrow.” 

You laughed as you shook your head and turned back into Vixen. Remus carefully picked you up and placed you back on his chest as Sirius got comfortable himself. 

Another bark startled you out of your thoughts and you turned to the side, looking at Padfoot, who had now jumped over Moony to try and throw him off balance. You jumped happily before spotting Prongs already catching up with you three and you barked at him as you jumped around a little, exploring the small clearing you had ended up in as Moony and Padfoot continued playing around themselves. 

Being smaller, you had gotten tired a lot faster than the other two dogs and you had found a small nook on top of a fallen branch where you had leaned in to watch. Prongs had joined their playing at some point too, and they had gone on small “races” against each other, going back and forth from one spot to another. Prongs would jump on his back hooves in a much less regal way than before whenever he won while Moony and Padfoot would howl as loudly as they could when either of them got there first. 

Moony tried to get you to join them on a race at some point and you just barked back something along the lines of «Not stupid enough to think I could win». Which had the wolf pull you from the tail like he had done last time –a lot softer now– and caused you to fall on the soft mossy floor. 

You barked at him in reproach and he just barked again, telling you to join their race. 

«Play!»

«I’ll lose»

«Play!!!»

You huffed in response, a tired sigh but in fox version. He barked again, and looked at you while peeling his eyes open a little. Was he doing the puppy eyes at you? The big, scary werewolf, making puppy eyes so you continued playing with him? Who would have thought? 

You tilted your head to the side a couple of times and eventually nodded, walking towards the branch they had all deemed the finish line and prepared, Padfoot barked and you ran as fast as you could, jumping through branches and pulling through as fast as you could. But Prongs had already gotten ahead and Moony was running as fast as he could to try and catch up with him. Prongs was the largest of the pack and that helped him easily outrun most of your friends, that didn’t mean Moony was no match for him, even compared to other wolves, he was huge and incredibly clever. 

The real match for you was against Sirius, who was not as fast but certainly a lot larger, if it were a race towards a specific point rather than a circle, perhaps you could have outmanoeuvred him by finding smaller places and shortcuts through the forest that he didn’t have access to, but in this case, it really was a matter of raw speed and he was far larger than you were. 

Regardless you were pushing through as much as you could, jumping and crawling around to catch up with him. He wasn’t too far ahead, in fact, you could probably bite his tail if you jumped towards it, and you were so focused on trying to level up that you barely noticed the giant stag running top speed straight towards you. Padfoot veered to the side and you jumped towards the other, only to be –in the most literal sense– caught in the air by Moony. 

His head pushed you to the ground and then grabbed onto the skin in the back of the neck as he picked up even more speed to outrun Prongs. 

You barked in protest, not because his hold was hurting you, in fact, it was so gentle that you weren’t sure what the hell he had done to his sharp and blade-like teeth. You protested because you didn’t understand what the hell he was trying to do by carrying you through the forest at top speeds. Once you crossed over the branch, Wormtail raised one of his small hands and pointed it towards you and Moony, shrieking as he gave you the win. Prongs was just a few feet away and he jumped over the finish line branch and turned to look at the now proud-standing Moony with a tired huff. 

Moony left you on the ground and howled, a testament to his victory over Prongs and then he turned to you and barked «We Won!»

«You won» you replied, not even thinking it over. 

He shook his head and pushed you with his snout letting you see you were standing right over the finish line and barked again «WE WON!»

At that point, you realised Moony was far more whimsical than Remus and shook your head with a slightly amused air to your features, then you joined his victory howl.  

After another while of playing with the boys, you all seemed to be running out of energy, even Moony who seemed to run on endless batteries was starting to slow down his movements. The night was still dark, but judging by your probably skewed perception of time and the position of the stars, the night wasn’t going to last much longer. 

«Let’s go back» Sirius baked. 

Moony snarled at him as if he were angry about the mere idea of going back to his cage.

«You’re tired, you’ll feel better if you sleep»

Moony shook his head as if he despised the idea of having to go to sleep, almost like a small child who wanted to continue playing. He turned to you as if you could help him change Padfoot’s mind. You had been the one to start him in a playing mood, after all. But you were far too tired to continue jumping around with him, you were not used to pulling all-nighters as an animagus like the boys were, and your small muscles already felt sore from so much use. 

As if the abuse you had given them for trying to keep up with the much larger animals was taking a toll on your body. It was much easier to just lay on Remus’ chest and sleep than to keep up with Moony’s whims, even if both were equally relaxing and fun. You opened your mouth to bark but a yawn came out instead. 

Moony leaned closer to you and started whining, much like a hurt dog «I don’t want to go» he barked in between whines. You wonder if he meant the forest or if he meant he didn’t want to turn back. It made you wonder if he knew he would turn back, in the same way Remus knew he would turn into Moony. If he was aware of his nature as a werewolf and if he felt so energetic because he knew he wouldn’t be around for another month or so once the sun came up. 

You thought it was best not to ask him, it seemed like a rather delicate subject and you did not want to get your head bitten off for asking the werewolf if he knew he would be locked up in a human body for weeks until he came back again. 

You wondered if it was the same thing for Moony as it was for Remus while he wasn’t transformed, if Moony saw everything Remus did in the same way Remus saw everything he did without being able to do anything about it. It didn’t seem like so, and while Remus and Moony seemed to be two separate entities, there was definitely something that connected them to each other, perhaps the potion Kless was working on would strengthen that connection, joining them together rather than dividing them in the way it did during the moons. 

You yawned again and he nudged you with his snout, trying to get you up in the same way he had done for the race, «Sleep» you barked. 

He whined again and Padfoot got closer, barking a few things that you didn’t care to understand, and after they seemed to reach an agreement both he and Padfoot went to nudge you «Let’s go back» Sirius barked, and this time around, everyone listened. You stood up lousily and trailed in between the two much larger dogs. Wormtail had crawled on top of Prongs and he was lying there as the stag walked carefully to avoid disturbing him. You were rather jealous, Wormy had gotten his good deal of sleep while you had to walk all the way back, then you remembered you had been the one to run headfirst into the forest as if tiredness was a state of mind instead of an actual fucking feeling in the muscles and you almost laughed at yourself.

Once you got back to the shack, you jumped on the bed and made yourself into a small ball, yawning once and then falling soundly asleep. You didn’t feel when Moony crawled on the bed next to you and placed his head on top of your back, closing his eyes as well. And you also didn’t see what happened afterwards. 

Padfoot tried to get on the bed as well, which didn’t seem to bother Moony at all, but when he tried to place his snout close to yours, Moony snarled at him, baring his teeth and his hair standing on end, and expression so vicious that even Pads was taken aback. 

He tried to get close again and Moony emitted a low growl «Away!» he warned. 

«Friend,» Padfoot said, trying to get close to you again and Moony barked louder. 

«Mine!»

«NOT!»

Moony’s growl got deeper, it was a miracle it didn’t wake you up at all and Sirius took a step back. Remus could live with seeing you and Sirius close, he would be lying if he said he never felt jealous or possessive whenever he saw you all over each other. He’d be lying if he said he’d never felt a sharp tug on his chest when he saw you kiss unexpectedly, not because he wanted you to stop, but because he yearned to join in. But Moony lacked the level of control Remus had gotten over the years. 

Moony was more animal than man and Moony did not like it when you and Pads were all over each other. He could tolerate it if it was a game, but that was his Padfoot and his Vixen and they had no business sleeping next to each other if it wasn’t next to him. Was he overreacting? Probably. But unlike Remus, Moony didn’t care if he was overreacting and he didn’t care if he upset you or Pads by being possessive over the other. He didn’t care because he was the biggest, he didn’t care because he was the strongest, and he didn’t care, because he was the king. And as long as Remus was Moony, you’d have to comply with his silly little whims because, after all, he was still the scary werewolf that had once haunted your nightmares, only acting tame enough to play around with you all because he wanted to and not because he had to. 

Eventually, Padfoot resolved to move to the other side of the bed and laid down next to Moony instead of next to you like he did all the time when you were cuddling. About half an hour later, you woke up after feeling a hand grip tightly at your belly, pulling you towards them. You turned around only to spot a very naked Remus, sleeping soundly. You looked at the old clock on the wall and barked to try and get him to let you go. If the clock was right, then you only had but minutes to get the hell out before Madam Pomfrey came to get Rem. 

Since your barking didn’t seem to do a thing, you stretched your head as far as you could to lick his face, you had seen Sirius do it, so you thought it would work. As you stretched though, you felt your tail brush against his lower abdomen and you were so incredibly glad that foxes couldn’t blush because dear Merlin! A little lower and you would have been feeling the very private, and very exposed parts of your best friend. After getting rid of that initial shock, you stretched your head again and started licking his face. 

“Little witch?” he asked groggily as he started to get up. And while you had cuddled with Remus –as Vixen– more than once, you almost always left before he woke up since you went to fly with the boys, you rarely got to actually see him in his barely lucid state. You licked again and he laughed, his voice was raspy, which made you wonder if it was just his raspy morning voice or if it was raspy because of how much howling he had done as Moony last night. You leaned closer to him and focused on a wound near his neck from where his skin had split open to let Moony out. You barked. 

“It’s all right, Luv.” He said calmly, “It’ll heal soon.” 

“Yeah, and we should go back now,” you heard Sirius say, he stood by the door and was brushing his fingers over his hair to get it to look less messy, both you and Remus thought it was adorable. 

“You should cover up mate,” Peter said as he pulled one of the covers your games had dropped off the bed last night and threw it over Remus, covering his more private areas. He was immensely thankful for that. 

“And stop hogging my girlfriend,” Sirius added, you had your small head on the crook of Remus’ neck and he was holding you rather close, just enjoying how warm you were and how deliciously you smelled, of moss and wet soil, of Padfoot and Moony, and most importantly, of Sirius and himself. If only he could cuddle you and Sirius every day like this, he would be the happiest man alive. Sirius, on the other hand, was a little cranky over the fact that Moony had kept Vixen away from him at early morning cuddles, he had already gotten used to biting your ear in the morning to wake you up only to have you turn back into your human self and shove him off for waking you up in such a crass way. He would then say something silly and get you to laugh. Sometimes you would even place a soft kiss on his lips as you climbed over him and out of the bed. He adored how domestic it was, something he hadn’t tried before, and he hadn’t seen it either, such simple acts of affection lifted him up immensely. He’d never had something like that at home. 

You thought of turning back, to give Sirius a rather snarky remark when you remembered you were still lying next to your naked best friend and decided it was best to step off the bed before you were human again. And so you wiggled out of Remus’ grasp, who groaned in return. 

“Stay a little longer,” he said with a pout as you tried to get out. You barked in response, something along the lines of «It’s late, Pomfrey will be here any minute now», not that anyone understood, neither of the boys were dogs anymore. 

“It’s late, Moony,” James said as he walked over to the bed, took you from Remus’ grasp and dropped you in Sirius’ arms, who, by the way, looked absolutely pleased with himself now that he got to hold you. “You better get dressed or you’ll be naked by the time Pomfrey is here.” 

Remus just groaned in return and covered himself with the bedsheets entirely. You were aware that Moony liked his hours of sleep, you also knew he got cranky if he didn’t, but it was surprising to see him act so childishly. Either the moon fucked him up real bad, or he just considered you already close enough to him to act however the hell he wanted when you were around. 

“We’ll meet you at the infirmary before the train leaves,” Peter said and you barked afterwards, to confirm his statement. 

Remus just groaned in response, something akin to “okay” but not quite it either.

Peter turned back into Wormtail and James placed him in the front pocket of his pyjamas before he took the cloak out of an old trunk in the corner of the room and covered himself, Sirius –and you for default– with it. That’s how you stepped out of the old raggedy room of the shack and back into the dark tunnel. 

You thought it was silly how different the tunnel felt each time you’d passed it so far, the first time you had been running from the wolf, anxious, stressed and fearing for both your life and Remus’, the second time you had been walking with both curiosity and hope that your plan would be all right, and it had felt a lot longer than the first. The third time had gone in an instant, you had been running from Moony again, but this time you were diverted, since it was all a game and the two of you knew as much. The fourth, on your way back you had been exhausted, but the kind of exhausted that felt good. The kind you felt when you were a kid and you had played for hours and hours and your eyes were giving out, but you still wanted to continue playing. And now, being carried by Sirius as he and James walked alongside each other back towards their room, you felt so comfortable you might as well fall asleep. 

And you did, next time you opened your eyes, you were lying alongside Sirius on his bed, curtains drawn and silencing spells clearly cast around them, since you couldn’t hear anything from the outside. You turned back into yourself and Sirius stirred on the bed, taking hold of your waist and pulling you to him. “Morning sleepy head,” he whispered in your ear. 

You yawned, wondering what time it was as you turned around and leaned on Sirius’ shoulder. “We need to pack,” you sighed. 

Sirius groaned in response, pulling you closer to him “Non, nous devons câliner.”

“Sirius…” 

“S'il te plaît, Étoile“

You sighed again “The train is leaving at 3, what time is it?”

“Assez de temps pour que tu me fasses un câlin.” 

“Ugh,” you said as you buried your head in his chest, he loved it, he too thought you smelled delightful. “You make it hard for me to be responsible.” 

“Désolé.” 

“You’re so not sorry,” you said with a smile as you shoved him lightly. You weren’t sure when it had been the last time you had cuddled Sirius. Just you and him, you missed it, even if it felt like something was missing from it. You then started drumming your fingers over his chest “It worked,” you added. 

Sirius nodded, “It did.” 

“Who would have thought, Wormy had it right…” 

“You didn’t think it would?” Sirius asked as he looked at you with a frown. 

“I had hope…” you responded with a shrug. 

Sirius shook his head as he scoffed a laugh and bit his lip, of course, you would go through with it even if you weren’t 100% certain. 

“Does that mean we have to continue doing the cuddle thing with Remus?” you asked then, a small frown forming between your brows. 

Sirius was taken aback by your question, the three of you had gotten so used to it by now, that the idea of not doing it anymore seemed preposterous, for the three of you, since even Remus was thinking he would miss the hell out of it now that it wouldn’t be happening anymore. Moony had accepted you as part of the pack.  

“I– perhaps we should continue it, if only for the next moon or so, just in case…” he said, thinking if that excuse was too silly to be believable. If you would see right through him like you so often did and instantly tell there were secret intentions behind them. Was he using you as an excuse to be close to Remus? To be close to both you and Remus at the same time? Was that so bad? Was he so selfish for wanting to have the two things at the same time? Boy and girl? Wolf and Fox? Remus and you? 

Would he even get away with it? With being in love with you but having this pull towards his best friend that he just couldn’t quite grasp yet? Only that he knew he liked burying his face on Remus’ neck and he liked how much bigger he was in comparison and how strong he felt, but he also liked how much smaller you were and how much softer. Was there a worst possible time for him to discover he liked boys? For him to discover that he liked– no. He liked you. 

You didn’t want the cuddles to stop either, even if you told yourself it was an excuse to be Vixen, even if you told yourself it was an excuse to be next to Sirius at night, that you certainly loved, even if you kept telling yourself that it was for Moony and for Remus’ sake, it would be a lie if you said you didn’t like laying over Remus’ chest and sleeping with his hand on your head, carefully brushing the back of your ears. Vixen adored Remus’ cuddles, there was no question about it. But perhaps, you were lying to yourself too, as much as Remus and Sirius were lying to themselves at least. It wasn’t only Vixen that liked the cuddles and it wasn’t only your animagus side that liked to be pampered. 

“Yeah,” you responded, “just in case.”

Series Masterlist | Next Chapter

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A/N: So... it was actually all cute and fluffy during the moon. Who would have thought? You guys were asking for a new Q&A so I'm working on it at the moment, send all the questions you may want to be added here, or directly on asks. Love, Lils xx

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[charliemwrites]

Simon’s so calm with Feral it's actually scary. Like I'm reading each little interaction and I get scared waiting for him to finally snap but HE NEVER DOES.

what if he comes home stressed from a mission, and he is just absolutely not in the mood for Feral’s gremlin-ness and he says/does something he might regret the next morning?

Hi, I glad that that tension is there and that their dynamic doesn’t get too repetitive. This probably isn’t as dramatic as your were hoping for….? But I hope you enjoy it regardless!!

Simon has been gone for a week. Not the longest by far - you didn’t even need a babysitter this time - but long enough that you’ve missed him. He gets home late, very late. You’ve been staying up waiting, excited to greet him.

When he shuffles in the door, you don’t even wait for him to set his bag down. You nearly knock him into the front door climbing up him, chattering about what you’ve been up to while he’s away, and he’s home late how could he, and there’s so many things that need doing!

He’s favoring one leg but supports your weight, gently tries to shush you while you nip and babble at him. He’s missed you, really he has. But the mission was long and frustrating, the debrief even more so, and he’s already beyond aggravated that he’s late coming home to you. It doesn’t help that you’re fussing at him for keeping you awake when he’s told you repeatedly to go to bed before 23:00.

“Enough,” he snaps finally. “Give me a minute to breathe, would you? I’m barely in the door.”

You stop, a scowl already twisting your face.

“If you’re just going to be a brat, go to bed. I’ll deal with it in the morning.”

And ooooh that is not the thing to say. You drop off him instantly, face going cold.

“Fine. Welcome home, Simon.”

And your turn and stomp away to bed. He sighs, though the regret doesn’t set in immediately. He’s still annoyed about everything and feels justified in losing his patience just a little with you, just this once.

He showers off, cools his temper, and realizes that he shouldn’t have let his annoyance slip with you. It’s not your fault that he’s tired and other people are stupid. You greeted him the way you always do; couldn’t have known what state he’s in.

He approaches your room with every intention of apologizing but hesitates when he sees the light off. Maybe you’re asleep? It is pretty late for you.

And then he hears you sniffle. Fuck.

He feels instantly like shit, like his father.

“Pretty?” He calls gently. “Still awake?”

The little mountain of blanket shifts. “Shouldn’t you be… resting or whatever?” you reply, voice thick.

“Couldn’t go to bed without saying goodnight.”

“Good night.” You’re putting on a brave voice but he can hear the tremor in it. He hesitates a moment.

“Would you be willing to come down?” he ventures.

“What for?” You huff. “Aren’t I too much right now?”

His chest hurts. “You’re never too much for me, little one. I shouldn’t have made it seem like you were. I don’t think I can sleep without you, actually. I’m not enough in my own.”

You peek out from beneath the covers, eyes puffy and red-rimmed. “Promise?”

“Yeah, love, I promise. Would you sleep with me tonight.”

You climb down and burrow against his chest, let him wipe away the last of the tears and even accepts the sharp bite he gets to his hand.

“Am I a brat?” you ask, voice small.

He chuckles and smooths a hand through your hair. “Maybe, but you’re perfect that way.”