#i saw a slug the other day

[shubaka17]

every few days im reminded how lucky I am to be able to live and work where I do. this is a vacation. a resort. and they're paying me to do my passion here. wow. I really fleeced these guys.

[katszumi]

every room stood still. your kitten, katsuki insisted on naming 'skullcrusher', also didn't dare to move.

your head hung low, feeling the stuffy air sneak into your lungs. you glanced at the clock on your watch. 7:19. the usual time katsuki arrived at the doorstep.

normally, you'd rush to the door, showering your boyfriend with short pepper kisses on his face. but you remained on the velvet couch, the same couch you picked out when house shopping with katsuki.

a click sounded, indicating the door was recently unlocked. you harshly breathed in the same stuffy air, forcing yourself to swallow the panic that resided inside of you.

katsuki slugged through the door, immediately dropping his bag at the front door. his eyes met yours then to the kitchen, his face contorting slightly at the sight. it was empty?

"no food. what's up with you?" his words came off more formidable than he liked, especially when he knew something wasn’t right.

katsuki inched towards you, his eyebrows wearing an expression of its own. they were furrowed, his right eyebrow a little deeper than the other.

"katsuki," you started, breaking your words off.

he slightly cocked his head in confusion and worry. as he came closer, not only did he see your presence shaking alongside the couch, but he also saw two suitcases behind you that were clearly filled to the brim.

you watched how his eyes widened, how his teeth unclenched leaving his jaw to drop. his ruby irises instantly shot back towards you, scanning your face for any signs that you were playing a joke on him.

"what the fuck." the words leave his mouth too quick for him to register.

you swallowed nothing. "katsuki, we need to talk."

"talk?!" his mouth opened to continue yet no words seemed to come. oddly enough, for the first time, he was speechless.

"i-i need you to listen to me." you hated the fact that you stammered on your words.

"and then what?!" he paused, "you leave me?" katsuki's voice lowered in volume, a tone of angst leaked within his words.

you attempt to stand strong. you weren't even sure if this was the right choice now by looking at his wounded face.

slowly, you nodded.

"yes."

katsuki was expecting that. hell. who wouldn't when their girlfriend has two suitcases behind her? but hearing the words leave her mouth was entirely different. it was like a shot through his heart, the bullet penetrating every piece of restraint he had.

his head turned to the side. he was battling his thoughts; every fucked up thing he did occuring to his mind.

"is it because i left my bloody rag on the counter the night before? because if so, i promise to god, i will never do it again. i know how much you despise it." he went on his own plethora, his words and body language holding enormous amounts of panic.

"katsuki." you reinstated again. if he went on like this much longer, you were afraid you'd never have the strength again to walk out of the door.

"or because i yell too loudly at ungodly hours?" he ignored your words.

"katsuki." you repeated.

"i understand i'm not the easiest person. fuck. i'm even shocked i've gotten this far." he rambled, not caring about a word you have to say. he had to say something, do something, in order to convince you. bargaining with all of his strength. "what have i done? what do i need to fix?"

you reach for his hand, molding your hand to fit in his. you placed your open hand on top, soothing small circles into his skin.

"it's not you, katsuki."

katsuki's face fell. "then, why are you leaving me?"

"i can't live like this. i was not taught to be a housewife. to clean, cook, wait for your arrival every night at seven o'clock just to eat dinner with you." you shook your head. "i don't have a job or even a hobby! i am stuck within these walls everyday, the paparazzi at damn near every corner doesn't help either. i am exhausted being alone all day."

you could feel the sweat accumulate on katsuki's palms.

"i'll tell the media to back off. i swear to it. a-and, i know somebody who's looking for help with their business, i can set it u—"

"katsuki, i am miserable here!" you interrupted his words, slightly raising your voice. "i can't do it anymore! you are a pro-hero, dedicating your life to these people everyday. and what am i doing? making sure that your stomach is filled and that there's no stains on a countertop!"

katsuki was quiet, allowing the words to settle in. taking the moment of silence of advantage, you slipped your hands from his.

"you're a pro hero. you've made the ranks. you've accomplished everything you've hoped for." you sighed. "i just don't fit within your schedule."

katsuki remained silent, reality now kicking in for him. he bit the inside of his cheek to restrain the tears that were welling in his eyes.

"i'm sorry. i truly, really am. i just need to accomplish my own goals before it's too late."

katsuki's eyes fell to the ground, a very slow nod coming from him. he cleared his throat, also sniffling to remove the snot that was aching to run down his nose.

"where will you be staying?"

you echoed his action from earlier, turning your head sideways. you couldn't face him anymore after utterly destroying his heart.

"it's best if you don't know."

he paused. "right."

you spun on your heel to bend down behind you, grabbing your overly stuffed suitcases. you increased the height on the handles, slowly trudging them towards the door.

you couldn't believe that this was happening. it was a last minute decision. lying down in bed, realizing that if this continued, you'd be nothing more but a trophy wife that's made no true accomplishments on her own.

you were more than that. more than a cleaner and cook.

"i didn't accomplish everything." katsuki broke the silence.

you halted your steps, peering at him over your shoulder. you hoped he took the silence as permission to continue.

"i wanted to marry you. have a big ass wedding reception and drink until we could barely see anymore." he dryly chuckled. "maybe even have a few flowergirls of our own. that goal mattered more to me than any accomplishments i've made before in this life." your heart clenched at the fact.

tears covered your vision, your breathing starting to become sporadic.

"you can keep skullcrusher." you faced forward, grabbing the door handle. "i love you, kats. thank you for everything." your words trembled, tears uncontrollably streaming down your face.

as the door shut behind you, katsuki buried his face into his hands, and cried like a little boy in his now empty, silent home.

[spicyspiders]

something that never existed

Francis Mosses x male reader smut

1.4k words

This is really dark. Francis gives the reader a bottle of milk that makes him feel funny, follows him home, and then takes care of him.

It hits you during the middle of your shift. You aren’t sure of what, but the feeling of it has grown more intense each hour since it began. Pushing through the double doors is harder than when you did it this morning, your arms feeling heavy. 

The cool evening air against your skin nearly has you moaning. Your skin burns, and the refreshing air makes you want to tear off your clothes. Each step against the pavement feels heavy as you slug your way to your home. If you were a passerby, you would probably be annoyed hearing the loud sound of your shoes against the sidewalk, but even though the noise filled your ears again and again, you could also hear the quieter steps of someone behind you. 

Someone fucking drugged you. Or maybe something made it through the slot in your workstation. Or maybe–

You didn’t fucking know. All you knew was that because of it, you were half-hard by the time you made it to your front door. 

“Are you following me?” You asked loudly as you leaned your sweaty forehead against your door. You panted against the door as you waited for a response. You laughed to yourself as you stuck your hand into your pocket to get your keys. Great, alongside the lust, you were also going crazy. 

“You looked like you needed help. So yes, I followed you,” a voice said from behind you. 

Your eyebrows drew together, trying to recognize the voice. It only took a few moments to pinpoint where you knew it from. You heard nearly a hundred voices a day at your job, but there was something about the man’s voice that was different and made it memorable. 

You just couldn’t remember his name though. Frank? Fraser? Frederick? You didn’t really care to try and remember his name. You had more pressing matters, like picking up the keys you had finally pulled from your pocket and then dropped on the fucking ground. 

“Let me,” Frank, Fraser, or Frederick says, his voice much closer behind you. “Here,” he says, now beside you. 

You hold your hand out to accept the cold metal into your palm. You hope the man will just leave as you close your fingers around the keys and the sharp metal digs into your palm, but the man stays. 

“I’m fine,” you say to the man, sticking the key into the knob with your shaky hands. 

“Let me at least help you get inside,” the man responds, one of his hands moves to your shoulder, while the other goes to your waist to hold you upright.  

“Fuck,” you whisper. Where he touches you somehow feels warmer than the rest of your body feels, even over your clothes. His voice brings you back to earlier in the day when he showed up to the window to be let in. You thought it was pretty weird for a milkman to deliver to his own apartment building, but it definitely wasn’t the weirdest thing you saw during your shift. 

“Let me in?” He had asked you earlier that day. Through the window, you could see his carrier full of milk bottles, but you could also see an extra bottle in his other hand. 

“Making an extra delivery for today?” You asked as you looked over the papers he gave you. 

The man didn’t answer. He must not have heard you, you thought. He nodded in appreciation when you gave his papers back and pressed the button to unlock the door. You thought that was going to be that, but the man got your attention again after you had started going through other papers on your desk. 

“This is for you, actually,” he said as he held the bottle up. One corner of his mouth twitched up, making it look like for once, he wasn’t miserable. 

“Oh,” you said in surprise. You weren’t sure if you were allowed to accept gifts, but took the bottle anyway through the slot under the window. 

“You must get thirsty back there.”

“Yeah,” you chuckled lightly, “my mouth can get dry with all of the talking I do.”

He left after that, but you swore his eyes had flicked down to your lips before he walked through the door. 

“Did you put something in that milk?” You asked, pulling the key from the knob. 

Francis. You remembered as his hand went over yours on the knob. You could see the document in your head, as you tried to remember if the man with you now was the same from earlier in the day. 

“Did you like it?” He asked, “I made it just for you,” he said into your ear, his warm breath puffing across your ear. 

With strength you didn’t know you still had, you sent your elbow backward into the man’s chest. You thought that would be enough, but found yourself on the other side of the door with Francis on your back. 

“What’d you do to me?” You moaned against the door. His weight on your back was heavy as he held you against the door. This close, you could feel the length of his cock digging into your lower back. 

You let out another moan, but this time, Francis lets out one that matches yours when he grinds his hard cock into your back. His hands go to your hips to maneuver you around so he can grind his cock into the meat of your ass. 

“You don’t know how long I’ve wanted this,” Francis says, laying his body along the length of your back so he can say the words directly into your ear. 

Enough to drug you, you guessed. Whatever he gave you was enough to turn your brain to mush, and the only control you had was dedicated to pushing your ass back into his cock. 

“Please,” you whined, “it hurts.” Francis lets you fall slowly to the floor and makes his way to hold himself tightly against your back. What hurts is your hard cock, but of course, Francis knows that the relief you need comes in the form of his hands between your legs. 

“I’ve got you, sweetheart,” Francis whispers. His fingers skillfully get your pants open, and then his fingers– the same ones you saw earlier today hand you his papers, wrap around your cock. 

You immediately fuck your hips into his fist, much closer than you expected. You hoped that with your release, Francis would be leaving along with it. Maybe you had fallen asleep at your station and this was some fucked up dream you were having. Letting your head fall forward to thunk into your door didn’t wake you up, so it’s likely that this was real. 

“You’re so wet here,” Francis says in amazement as his fingers collect the precum from the head of your cock and what had already leaked down the shaft. He hooks his chin on your shoulder before he pulls his hand from your cock, and up to his mouth. 

He groans into your neck when he gets the taste on your tongue, “Francis,” you whisper, hoping that saying his name would be enough. You didn’t want to beg, after all, your hard cock should be evidence enough of what you needed. 

“I’m sorry,” Francis says, kissing his apology into the soft skin of your neck. Though it wasn’t on your lips, the press felt electric. “I just needed a taste.”

His words go straight to your cock and you feel another bead of precum drip from the head, just in time for Francis’ fingers as they wrap around the base. 

You cum to Francis’ long fingers around your cock and to the feel of his cock digging into your back. With his chest pressed to your back, the groan he lets out as you come undone under his hands travels through your body. It almost feels as if he’s so close that he’s a part of you and the noise comes from your mouth. It makes you feel crazy. What makes you feel even crazier though is how much you moan for the man as your orgasm courses through your body.    

Francis holds your body up with an arm wrapped around your stomach as you pant against the door and come down from the orgasm that just shot through your body. “Let’s go to bed, sweetheart,” Francis says, his voice full of promise, “it’s been a long day.”

It must be the drugs, you thought as you let him pull you up from the floor. Your soft cock gives a twitch from where it hangs between your legs. You weren’t even sure if it was worth buttoning your pants back up. 

Francis was right, it had been a long day, but you had a feeling that you also had a long night ahead of you. 

[sectumsempraaa]

Luck & Stardust

Pairing: they’re all in love with you 🤭 x fem!reader (not house-specific)

Featuring: Draco, Theo, Mattheo, Lorenzo

Word count: 2.4k

Based on this request! Thank you :)

TW: none lol welcome to fluff city

Summary: With February 14th quickly approaching, the Slytherin boys fight for your affection in pursuit of being crowned your valentine. Some attempts are better than others, but only one can be the best… and it’s one that you never saw coming.

“Don’t even think about it, Diggory.” Theo snaps, giving the Hufflepuff a look of utter doom.

With Valentine’s Day right around the corner, your favorite group of Slytherins have taken it upon themselves to act as your own personal Queen’s Guard.

Many of the Hogwarts boys are scrambling to make you their valentine, each attempt failing as miserably as the last, not unlike this one. The boys can’t fathom sharing you, and they won’t. It’s them, or no one. Cedric silently backs away with his hands raised in surrender.

Mattheo’s got his eyes buried in a book, keeping his stare down as the next suitor approaches you from behind. His voice is threatening enough, there’s no need for him to make eye contact.

“I wouldn’t, McLaggen, if you’d like to keep your neck straight.” Mattheo says, lethally monotone. Cormac scoffs and opens his mouth to retaliate, but not before Mattheo can interrupt him.

“Neck. Straight.” He spits, absent-mindedly making a fist with his right hand. It’s safe to say McLaggen got the message. Theo and Mattheo share a look, shaking their heads in annoyance.

“Oh for fucks sake.” Draco groans, standing from his position to size up one of the Weasley brothers headed your way. “Try and see how quick I’ll make Fred an only-twin.”

“I am Fred, you filthy snake.” He replies, an uncommon bitterness in his voice. His retort admittedly makes you laugh, no one is usually brave enough to fight back. Draco notices your reaction, a muscle flinching in his jaw.

“I care less about your identity than I do about the slugs you’ll be coughing up if you even entertain the idea of asking her.” Draco says, the tension reaching a high.

They stare at each other for a long moment, performing the standoff of a lifetime. You decide it’s time to interfere.

“Sorry, Fred. Maybe next year?” You say apologetically, giving the boy a sympathetic look.

“Over my dead body.” Draco mutters.

When Fred walks away, you glare at each of the boys, rolling your eyes in irritation. “You know, this is why we don’t get invited to things.”

“The missing out is worth knowing you won’t end up with a bloody Gryffindor.” Draco grunts, his eyebrows furrowed and mouth in a scowl. Theo chimes in, throwing an arm around your shoulder.

“Sorry, amore. This is what happens when you’re under our wing.” He laughs, placing a dramatic kiss on the top of your head. Lorenzo nearly spits out his tea, giving the boys a baffled expression.

“You lot are mental if you think we’re not the ones under her wing.” He exclaims, nudging your arm with his. Theo argues with him, listing off all the instances where they’ve protected you.

“I’m gonna stop you right there, mate. You’re literally wearing a bracelet, that you made because she asked you to, with her name on it.” Lorenzo gives Theo a smug smile and laughs to himself.

You shrug to Theo and stand up to leave, taking your bag with you. Mattheo grabs it from you, always being the one to carry your things. You don’t even think about it anymore, it’s just what he does.

Draco walks you to your next class, stopping you at the doorway and turning to you with a defeated look. You already know what’s bothering him.

“You’ll survive.”

“I can’t stop them when I’m in another room.” He grumbles, glaring at the handful of boys entering the classroom. You take his face in your hands, directing his gaze to yours.

“It will take a lot more than a couple of heart-eyes to be my valentine.” You assure him, pinching his cheek before pushing past him into the classroom.

“Oh, if you only knew what’s coming,” he starts, his words dragging on with satisfaction. You whip your head around in suspicion.

“What’d you say?” you ask.

“Oh nothing, love. Go on.” He sends you off with a small wave and a smirk that tells you trouble is coming.

—

The day has finally arrived and you have long since forgotten Draco’s little quip from that day before class.

You’re all dressed up, your hair styled your favorite way, a glow emitting from your face. You clasp a heart-shaped necklace around your neck, laying it gently on your chest.

Upon entering the Great Hall, you’re immediately swarmed with dozens of boys holding cards and candy, yelling and reaching out to you in desperation. Your eyes widen with panic, your feet staying frozen in place from shock, your books fall to the floor, mixing in with other lost belongings.

Out of the corner of your eye, you spot Mattheo shoving through the small crowd, pulling you into him when he finally gets to you. The rest of the boys go utterly silent at his intimidating presence.

“Go.” A single word, yet you’ve never heard him so threatening before, a look like hell in his stare. His arm snakes around your waist, your heart still coming down from the sudden attention.

Neville throws you a small smile and a subtle wave as he picks up his blue quill and his wand, before he disbands with the rest of the group.

Mattheo turns to you, the bitter glare melting into a nurturing gaze. “I’ll really do it.” he says, you have a feeling you know what he’s implying.

“I don’t doubt that.” You smile up at him, grabbing his hand and letting him lead you to the Slytherin table where Theo, Draco, and Lorenzo have taken place already. They give you your space, creating a seat for you between Draco and Theo.

You look down to the table to discover all your favorite breakfast foods laid out before you, a tiny gasp escaping your mouth. The surprise comes to you pleasantly after the overwhelming ambush. A blushing Theo presents you with a cup of steaming liquid.

“Your favorite meal, and your favorite drink.” He murmurs, carefully placing it in front of you.

“You’re kidding. The coffee we had in Rome?” You asked, your voice coated in disbelief, your eyes still running over every pastry and fruit before you.

“Had it delivered here just for you, bella. And maybe I bribed the house elves to make your breakfast extra special.” He brags. Before you take a bite of your danish, you plant a long, dramatic kiss on his cheek.

“Buon San Valentino, cara mia.” He whispers near your ear, taking in the grin of joy on your face. The other boys start scoffing, making disgusted faces and pretending to be sick as they dig into the treats.

“Let me get this straight- you’re asking our beloved and most precious Y/N to be your valentine by making her scrambled eggs?” Lorenzo jokes, shaking his head in disbelief. Draco’s laugh chimes in, earning a grimace from Theo in return.

“Grazie, love. You’re the best.” You hum, finishing your meal and getting up to leave, Mattheo once again carrying your belongings. You run a hand through Theo’s hair, bidding him a gracious goodbye.

—

“Who on Merlin’s sacred earth…” a student’s voice echoes behind you as you take in the spectacle.

“The only one who can afford it.” You respond, your voice full of knowing and awe. One minute you were in the hallway, sending Seamus Finnigan away with another valentine rejection.

The next, you were in your common room, every inch of which was adorned with white violets, yours and Draco’s mutual favorite flower.

You feel a presence behind you, a pair of arms wrap around your torso, pulling your back against him.

“Draco, how?” you turn your head up at him to ask, his grip on you tightening until you’re snug against his chest.

“I’d make anything happen for you. It doesn’t matter how. Happy Valentine’s, you perfect pretty thing.” He squeezes you extra hard, earning a bout of laughter from you. The satisfaction on his face is evident by a warm expression.

“I think they make me look rather ravishing,” Lorenzo appears, a handful of the white violets tucked into his hair. Draco sighs in frustration, the moment tarnished by his friend. “It’s too bad they’ll all be dead in two days.”

You release yourself from Draco’s hold, his eyes filled with anger and defeat. He takes an aggressive stride towards Lorenzo, teeth gritted.

“Good, I can bury them with you seeing as you’ll be sharing an expiration date.” Draco retorts.

“You think she’s gonna fall into your arms because of some bloody plants?” Lorenzo mocks.

You let the two boys fight it out, throwing empty threats and cheap insults at each other. In the meantime, you sit on the couch, braiding some flower crowns for you and your friends.

When you brought one to Professor Sprout after lunch, it made her entire day.

—

Later, your group is sitting in the courtyard enjoying a rare sunny winter day. The heat gives you chills, your skin basking in every second of sunlight.

The boys sit around you in a circle, facing you while sharing gossip on the day’s blossoming couples. Your ears pick up their conversation.

“Yeah, well not everyone wants a damn teddy bear, Theo. It’s not very original.” Mattheo snickers. You find it quite adorable, the sound of them arguing over what makes a sentimental gift.

“Original, hmm. You mean like this?” Lorenzo straightens up while handing you a gift-wrapped box. “Open it, baby.”

Lorenzo may be sweet, but he loves to cross the line, purely for the personal fulfillment of bothering the others. The nickname earns him an immediate smack on the back of his head from Draco, but he only laughs at the blow.

You open the gift wrap to reveal a moving picture frame, the first photo taken a couple summers ago when he was carrying you on his back into the lake by his family’s estate. The way your head is thrown back, and the way his cheeks are marked with sunburn takes you back to a happy time.

You hear an envious whisper come from behind you, no doubt belonging to Theo. “Fuck, that’s a good idea.”

Draco leans his head over your shoulder, giving him a better vantage point. Then, the photos begin to cycle through a gallery of… well, mostly just Lorenzo.

“How are you this thick, Enz? These are just pictures of your putrid face,” Draco jabs, causing Mattheo to grab hold of the frame. He literally falls over laughing, his hands covering his face.

You turn to Lorenzo, a slight embarrassment hinted in his eyes, but proud, nonetheless. “I will treasure this forever. It really screams… you.” You joke, brushing a thumb over his cheek and giving his arm a squeeze, appreciating the attempt.

He mumbles to himself, swatting at Mattheo. “Foul gits.”

The frame later finds a spot on your bookshelf. You meant what you said.

—

After dinner that evening, Mattheo leads the group out to the pitch bleachers and sits behind you, placing a leg on either side of you. He wraps his robe around you, keeping you warm in the February night, leaning your back on his chest.

A sudden gust of wind blows, knocking over your book bag. Draco scrambles for your stuff, stowing the items away.

A stray piece of crumpled parchment lands next to you, your hand grasping and smoothing it out before it can fly off.

Just as your eyes read the words, an eruption of light explodes in the sky, the colorful shards falling gracefully down. The next few are heart-shaped, reds and pinks illuminating the clouds.

“Are you a firework? Because you make my heart burst.” Mattheo says playfully, nudging his head into the crook of your neck. You scoff at the lame joke, shaking your head.

“You’re the worst and I love you for it.” You poke fun at him before planting a kiss on his temple. “This is really gorgeous, Mattheo. If only my valentine were here to see it.”

“Yeah. Wait, what?!” He exclaims, surprise etched on his every feature.

The others quickly look to you for direction as you beckon them closer. “Look,” you say.

You unfold the piece of paper you found before. “I think my books got mixed with someone else’s when I was flocked this morning.”

Lorenzo grabs the paper, then Draco. He stands up and reads it to himself, his face filled with jealousy and resentment. “It’s got her bloody initials on it.” He states before passing it around, each one reading the passage to themselves:

your heart is cosmic fire

wicked stardust

and I am but pieces of you

“It’s… poetry.” Theo remarks, earning a questioning look from the others, like they’ve never heard of it before. “Romantic poetry. From who?”

“Which one of you did this?!” Mattheo yells, giving each boy dagger eyes.

“It was me, Y/N.” Theo admits, followed by a brief and tense moment of silence.

“With no due respect Nott, you couldn’t even write your own name this nice.” Draco drags. “The handwriting is nearly better than my mum’s. Weird though, quill ink is usually black. This one is blue.”

And then it hits you. The Great Hall. The books on the floor. Everyone’s things getting mixed up from the crowd crush. Mattheo’s rescue, the blue quill, and that soft, endearing glance from…

“Longbottom.” You whisper. The name rolls off your lips, bringing you arguably the biggest smile you’ve worn today. The thing is, the boys know you’re right. Neville the sensitive, Neville the sweet.

“Well that’s just diabolical.” Lorenzo sneers, the group huffing and puffing in defeat.

You read the words again and again, every word imprinting in your memory. He probably didn’t mean for this to get in your hands. In fact, he’s probably off somewhere right now frantically worrying that you found it.

So you won’t tell him. Neville: the unwitting valentine.

You fold the paper up, storing it in your pocket. One by one, you pull each of the boy’s arms towards you, creating a huddle in the bitter cold. Their body heat keeps you warm, their heads all resting on your shoulders and lap.

“I love you guys.” You say, meaning each word as you all continue to watch the fireworks above you. Their collective bitterness was quickly replaced by the desire to be near you.

“And we are very lucky to be loved by you, Y/N.” Draco professes.

As you watch the colorful display, the best memories you have with the boys start to play like a film reel in your head.

All the brawls they’ve gotten in for you, all the times you rescued them from detention, all the pranks you’ve pulled on each other and the countless times they fought over who would marry you… and all the times they promised to keep you safe.

The glow of the fireworks reflects on their faces, unknowing of your loving gaze on each of them. You repeat the sentiment to yourself, the altered phrase hitting closer to home this time.

and I am but pieces of them.

🤍🤍🤍🤍🤍

[sashaisready]

Starting Over: Chapter 4 - Build

Mob!Bucky x Female Reader

Series Masterlist

When Bucky throws you out of the house for a betrayal and won't listen to your side of the story, you know the only way out is through - it's time to start over. Maybe this was never going to be your happy ending.

Me again! We’re back. Sorry I know I keep adding new parts but I’ve broken up the final chapter into two as it just keep going and this is a huge bumper one (sorry). I promise there genuinely will only be one more looool. Thanks again for all of your reblogs/comments/love for this story, it means a lot!!

💔

Lou had welcomed you back with open arms, fixing you up with a waitress job at the diner. Of course he had. Lou was like the father you’d never had. His love was one of the few constants in your life.

Mercifully, he didn’t ask you much about Bucky, didn’t chastise you for making a bad choice and getting involved with a mob boss. That wasn’t what Lou was about. He knew that ‘I told you so’ served no purpose, he knew that you were a big girl and there was nothing he could tell you that you didn’t already know yourself. So why bother? All that mattered was that you were here, and you needed him. He would always catch you when you fell.

Going back to waitressing didn’t feel like you’d taken a step back or that you’d somehow failed, if anything it was quite nice to see this former version of your life once more. And you’d missed chatting with the regulars, helping Lou with the accounts, occasionally fighting small fires (both metaphorical and very occasionally, literal). With Bucky you didn’t need to work, which was nice in one way, but you’d missed the structure and purpose your old job had given you. You previously had no interest in daily gossipy lunches with the other mob wives, and there was only so much shopping you could do.

“How did we ever cope without you?” Lou had asked one morning after you’d successfully chased and caught a dine and dasher, and saved hundreds of dollars on the power bill after negotiating a new contract. All before 10am.

You grinned, “I feel the same way about this place”.

You had moved in with Wanda, she had insisted - despite your protests. She and her boyfriend, Vis, gave you the spare room and said you could stay until you got back on your feet. It was small and full of all the extra stuff they couldn’t fit elsewhere in their apartment, but you didn’t care. You would’ve been happy with the couch, or a sleeping bag on the floor.

Nat was equally helpful, sorting you out by buying new clothes and shoes in your size and giving you some of the toiletries and make-up she didn’t use. She even cut and restyled your hair (‘because hair holds memories’, she told you) and took on whichever role you needed. Sometimes that was nights on her couch crying as she held you, other times it was hitting up the bars and trying to forget. She did it all. She had come and got you that morning at the hotel, after you sent her a frantic message from the rickety computer explaining what had happened. She told you she’d be there in 30 minutes…but ended up doing the trip in 20.

One afternoon a week or so later, Bucky’s men radioed him to let them know that there was a redhead in a Mercedes at the front gates demanding to speak to him. She wouldn’t take no for an answer. He’d sighed as he saw her familiar face on the security monitor and told them to let her in. He knew this day would come. He dismissed them, they didn’t need to be here for this.

Nat had parked up and casually exited the car, strolling across the patio as Bucky stood in the doorway and waited for the inevitable. She didn’t keep him waiting long, slugging him across the jaw with a sharp ‘thwack’ causing him to stagger back against the doorframe.

“Got it. Anything else to say?” he groaned.

She nodded and then kneed him hard in the groin, turning on her heel as she left him in a crumpled heap and ambled back to her car.

“I warned you this would happen if you hurt her”, she called out calmly without looking back.

“Always good to see you, Nat”, Bucky managed to eke out as she slammed the car door.

The generosity of them all was overwhelming, you knew how lucky you were. It’s often said that you don’t know who your true friends are until you fall on hard times, and your friends had proved themselves tenfold. You didn’t think you’d ever be able to repay their kindness.

💔

It had been about six weeks since the night at the hotel when he started coming to the diner. No goons or hangers-on, just him. Which was almost unheard of, given his position.

The first time was a Friday morning, around 9am. He sat in the corner booth, head buried in the menu.

“I can kick him out, hon’, I’m not scared of him”, Lou had snarled as he glared over at the man in the booth.

“It’s okay, Lou. I can handle him,” you told him gently, giving his arm a reassuring stroke.

You took a deep breath as you approached his table. You couldn’t see his face, just his hands, an eerie mirror of the first time you’d met.

“What can I get you?” you asked as you readied your pad and pen, your voice surprisingly even, in spite your stomach’s somersaults.

He lowered the menu slowly and you couldn’t deny it was good to see him again. His blue eyes shone, the former dusting of stubble over his chin and jawline now a fuller beard - just as tantalising as it had always been. A few strands of his hair had come away from the carefully styled gel, framing his face perfectly. Some of your former anger towards him bubbled away beneath the surface, but you couldn’t deny you had also missed him. You had loved him, after all.

The two of you shared a knowing smile.

“You know there are like…hundreds of other breakfast places in this city, right?” you teased, but half-serious.

“I do…but this is the only one that gets my eggs just right,” he grinned back.

“Mmm. I’ll pass your compliments onto the chef. You still want the usual?”

“Please”.

You scribbled down the familiar order onto the page. It felt strange to write it down again, it had been a long time since you’d done that for him.

“Are you going to behave?” you questioned, arms folded.

“Mostly”.

“You’d better. Lou will have your ass if you don’t” you scoffed.

“I don’t doubt it”.

“And Bucky, if you’re here to-” you began, your face betraying the pain that still lurked within you.

“I’m not”, he cut you off. “Just breakfast. I promise”.

You nodded, pressing your lips together with trepidation. The two of you watched the other for a few seconds.

“Well, okay, that’ll be right out”.

You turned and put his order into the kitchen. You didn’t have to look back to know he was watching.

“Here you go”.

You returned to the booth a little later, laying out the plates and re-filling his coffee, he thanked you and pulled a napkin from the dispenser.

“I like your new hair”, he said as he began to cut up his food, his eyes not leaving the table.

“Thanks. I like your new beard”.

“Thanks. Business going okay here?”

“Doing well. Yours?”

“Same old, same old…”

“And…Rumlow?” you asked, your throat catching a little as you said his name.

“Terminated” he replied coldly as he took a sip of coffee.

“Yes…I presumed so. HYDRA?”

“I finally cut off all of those heads”.

“I hope you mean metaphorically”.

“Mostly. The girls good? Vis?”

“All good. Steve? Sam?”

“Also good”.

“Good”.

“Good”.

“Well…good to catch up. Let me know if you need anything else. Enjoy”.

“Thanks”.

You waited for some big trick or reveal, but it never came. He ate his meal, drank another coffee refill, paid the bill, tipped, and left within the hour. Like any other customer. Lou was sceptical, and so were you – but there nothing to suggest it was anything else but breakfast…like he said.

And that’s how it was every Friday after that. He’d come in at 9am on the dot, sit in the same booth. Order the usual. You were always his waitress. Everything was the same, every week. The other regulars knew to avoid sitting at his table at that time. The other servers would barely bat an eyelid as he strolled in, taking for granted that you’d be along shortly to put his order in – even if he wasn’t in your section that morning. And it was…fine. He didn’t try and do anything more, didn’t ask you to meet anywhere or for a chance to talk. You initially thought it would be hard to see him again, but it was okay. Maybe a future where the two of you just pleasantly co-existed was possible.

The two of you would chat. Just small talk at first. Occasionally a joke. Even Lou would chat to him sometimes, he was still wary of Bucky but more open to him than he was previously. He certainly didn’t mind him spending money in his restaurant.

Weeks soon became months. Seasons changed. Still, he came in every week, rain or shine. Plates and plates of eggs eaten; endless coffee mugs refilled. He didn’t ever skip it, he was never sick, never seemed to take vacations. He showed up every time. Even if you weren’t there.

The small talk eventually evolved, so slowly you barely noticed it happen. You chatted more about the old times, memories started to feel fonder rather than sad reminders of what was lost. He told you anecdotes about Steve and Sam. You told him about Wanda and Vis, about Nat. You laughed uproariously one morning over the story of Sam’s disastrous vacation involving a mistaken suitcase and an overzealous TSA agent. It was nice to just sit and talk with him, just be with him. No expectations or obligations. You hadn’t forgiven him. You weren’t sure you ever could. But you had missed him. And seeing him for an hour every week, on your turf, just shooting the breeze – that was nice.

“So, you seeing anyone?” you asked one morning as you sat across from him in the booth and sipped your drink, your break coinciding with the end of his meal. You weren’t sure where it came from, but it popped out of your mouth before you had a chance to stop it. The curiosity was eating you alive. You seemed to talk about everything apart from his love life.

He firmly shook his head, “nope”.

You frowned. “Really? When was the last time you went on a date?”

“With you,” he replied in that no-nonsense tone of his.

You cocked your head, peering over at him in disbelief.

“But Bucky…”

“What? I’m not interested in anyone else”.

“But we’re not together. And it’s been months”.

“I know”, he replied stoically as he sipped his coffee. His eyes seemed to be studying you.

“And we’re not getting back together…”

“I know”.

“But…”

“But what?”

“I don’t know, but I-I don’t like this. It feels like a ploy, somehow. To push me into taking you back” you stammered, your finger dancing on the rim of your mug.

“It’s not. It’s just a fact. I didn’t even bring it up, you did”.

He was frustratingly calm and unperturbed, finishing his breakfast like this was just some casual conversation about the weather or a movie he’d seen.

“So…what, you’re never gonna date anyone again? Is that it?” you scowled.

He shrugged, “I never said that. It’s just not something I’m looking to do right now. Work is taking up most of my time. Plus, I’m in therapy, working through a few things. I’d rather be in a better place before I start dating again. Learn from my past mistakes”.

“Oh…” you responded in surprise, “well…that’s very mature of you. And is it…helpful?”

“Mmm, pretty eye opening,” he nodded as he took another sip of his coffee, “I’d recommend it to anyone,” he looked at you pointedly.

You felt the heat at your cheeks, perfectly aware that he was suggesting you do the same. And he was probably right. But you didn’t like the potential to appear vulnerable in front of him, so you merely shrugged and went back to rubbing your coffee cup. You were genuinely pleased for him…it was just unfortunate that your break-up was the catalyst. You felt a wave of grief roll through you.

You paused for just a beat, again unable to stop your word vomit.

“Are you gonna ask if I’m seeing anyone?”

“No”.

“Why not?”

“Because it’s none of my business. You can date whoever you want”, he shrugged, keeping his attention on his plate.

You frowned. “And you’re okay with that?”

“Yes. I just want you to be happy, doll”.

“Bullshit!” you scoffed, “you once picked a man up by his ankles and dipped his head in the toilet because he grabbed my ass at that party…”

“Well, that was deserved. And I didn’t flush it on him, so he got off easy…”

You pointed an accusatory finger at him across the table. “Buck…I know you. What’s your game, here?”

He sighed heavily, taking a long sip of his coffee before he spoke. His eyes finally moved up from his plate to meet yours. “Did it ever occur to you that maybe I just like being with you? In whatever form I can? That maybe I’m happy just getting this time with you every week, no matter what happens between us?”

“And that’s enough for you?” you asked incredulously.

He shifted in his seat, his tone suddenly very serious.

“Look, doll. I’m always going to love you. And I’m always going to be honest with you. If you turned around tomorrow and you told me you wanted to give things another shot – sure, I’d bite your hand off to accept. But I live in the real world. And I know you aren’t likely to forgive me for what I did, and that’s fine. I’ve accepted that. I’m just happy to have you in my life in some way, even if that’s just talking to you every Friday while I have my breakfast”.

You blinked back at him, unsure whether to take him at his word or if this was some manipulation tactic. The word ‘love’ echoed in your ears, and you had to shake it off that he said he still felt that way about you. Maybe this was all some trick. You knew you couldn’t trust him anymore.

But as you looked into his eyes, for a moment his sentiment felt…genuine. Real. Maybe he was telling the truth.

“Fine”, you sighed as you took a sip from your cup, “I get paid to be here either way…”

💔

A few more months passed, it had been nearly a year since the break-up. Bucky remained a weekly customer but nothing else. You’d finally moved out of Wanda’s into your own place – a shitty, cramped studio apartment was the best you could do on a waitress wage and tips – but it was yours. It had been such a long time since you’d had your own space, you loved every meagre inch.

You'd also started therapy, to help get your head around your childhood and abandonment issues - to help understand why you were always ready to run and expect everything to collapse. Bucky was right, it was valuable - if not hard going. But you knew it was helping, even though nothing could be 'fixed' overnight.

You still visited Wanda and Vis regularly. In fact, you were over there laughing with Wanda and making an early dinner when you got the call that Friday evening. She knew something terrible had happened from the way your face fell, your eyes widening with shock as you listened to the voice on the other end telling you whatever horror story it was. Seconds later you were rushing out of the front door and trying to wrangle on your coat and grab your bag, as she called out to you in a panic just steps behind.

“It was a massive heart attack,” the doctor had said as she eyed the clipboard in front of her. “He was lucky that a passerby on the street called an ambulance, if he’d been alone…he may not have been able to call himself, and if it had been too late…”

You had not been at the hospital long, sweating and panting in your rush to get down there. Your head fuzzy, unable to fully take in what you’d been told. The doctor was still talking, her voice an unidentifiable drone in your ears as you concentrated all your efforts on staying upright. You tugged off your coat, suddenly far too hot. The hospital felt like a furnace, suffocating and stifling. You were dizzy, everything felt blurred.

A couple of chairs sat a few feet away along the sterile-looking hallway, you plopped down into one and put your head in your hands.

“Can she see him?” Wanda asked the doctor, her hands patting your shoulders supportively.

“He’s stable, but the team are just doing some observations on him. Plus, he needs to rest, and might be feeling groggy after the meds. He’ll be out for a good while. It might take some time to be conscious and lucid again, so-”

“I’ll wait,” you said defiantly, the first time you’d spoken since you got there. “However long it takes”.

“Yes, I understand. And you’re his…friend?”

“Daughter,” you corrected. “I’m Lou’s daughter. Well…good as. He doesn’t have any other family. Neither of us do…”

The doctor nodded kindly, pointing out the coffee machine across the hall and leaving you to it.

💔

Wanda waited with you for a while, but she had a work event that night. She insisted she’d stay but you waved her off, telling her you’d check in with her later. She’d been planning that event for months. Lou would be mad at her for missing it, let alone over him. And you meant it, you didn’t want her missing it because of you.

So, she left. Leaving you by yourself in the hard chair with the plastic cup of lukewarm motor oil masquerading as coffee. Nat was out in the Bahamas with some hottie for the week, and you didn’t really want to bother Vis, so you sat quietly alone. You kept sane by reminding yourself that Lou was stable, and his prognosis looked good. He would be okay. He would. He’s made of strong stuff.

Another hour went by, and you couldn’t help your tears from falling as you began to work yourself up worrying, exacerbated by the fact you hadn’t eaten and had nobody around to stop you from spiralling. Wanda had sent a few texts, but you knew she was busy and didn’t need you distracting her. You just wished you had someone to talk to. Or not even talk to, just be with. You squeezed your phone in your hands as if willing the idea that someone would suddenly call you out of the blue. A friend you’d forgotten, a long-lost family member. But there was nobody.

Well, almost nobody.

You pulled your purse onto your lap and dug through, retrieving your wallet at the bottom. You opened it up and checked each card holder until you found what you were searching for, slightly worn and torn tucked behind the library card you barely used, but the details still clear as day.

JAMES BUCHANAN BARNES

Director of 107 Inc.

You had scooped up the card after he left it in the hotel room. It was a bit of a split decision, you’d nearly tossed it in the trash but changed your mind at the last second and jammed it into your wallet, not really thinking about why. You hadn’t looked at it since, you’d never transferred his number into your phone, or even spoken to him outside of Fridays at the diner. But he had become something of a friend over the last few months, and you were surprised to find yourself looking forward to seeing him every week. It was as if you’d gotten to know each other again from scratch, a slow-burn friendship grown over time – the complete opposite of your initial whirlwind relationship, where heat had won out over foundations. But now, you felt you knew him differently. It was funny how you get to know somebody without the chemistry and physical attraction fogging up your brain.

Was this stupid? Were you asking for trouble? But…it would be nice to talk to someone. Just a phone call, nothing more. You took a deep breath and punched the numbers into the keypad before you could talk yourself out of it.

“Hello?” came his gruff voice in your year after two rings.

You sat upright, surprised he had even answered at all – let alone so fast. You hadn’t really thought about what you were going to say.

“Hey, Buck, I…” you squeaked, unable to mask the emotion in your voice.

“Doll?” his voice immediately softened, “what is it? Are you okay?”

“Yeah…well, no, actually. I’m at Mount Sinai…uh…Lou-uh, Lou had a big heart attack and I’m at the hospital and hesreallysickandI-I…”

You sobbed, your words melting into one as the pain of saying them out loud hit home, “I’m sorry I…”

“Hey. It’s okay. Take a moment for me, alright? Take a deep breath doll…”

You closed your eyes, inhaling and exhaling, blowing the air out of your lips like he said. You did it a few times, feeling slightly better afterwards,

“Good, that’s good,” Bucky told you. “Are you by yourself? Are Wanda and Nat there with you?”

“No…Wanda is working, Nat’s away. It’s fine…I just…”

“I’m so sorry about Lou, doll”, he said tenderly. “Do you want me to come down there?”

“No…no…it’s okay…I just. I just wanna talk,” you replied, wiping your eyes with the palm of your hand.

“Yeah…yeah, we can do that. What shall we talk about?”

You sighed, “I don’t know. Anything. Anything that isn’t hospitals or heart attacks…or food. Because I haven’t eaten and I’m starving.”

“Alright. Hmm. Well…I had to break up a fight between Thor and Scott today, if that helps distract you…”

“What? But Thor is twice Scott’s size. That was mean of him…”

“No…Scott started it. Said Thor was mouthing off about something or other and it all blew up. Scott swung for him”.

“What?? Is he insane?” you practically shrieked, the beginnings of a giggle forming in your throat as you tried to imagine Scott trying to land a punch as Thor towered above him.

“I guess so. But they worked it out. Last time I saw them they were laughing, and Thor was swinging him from his shoulders”.

You laughed. A proper, deep belly laugh. It felt good. Cathartic. You could practically see some of the tension leave your body.

“Well, I’m glad they figured it out. What else did you do today, Buck?”

“Hm. Not a lot. Mostly work. I went to the park. Just to get some air. Went to that duck pond you like and sat on the bench for a while”.

You smiled, “I love that pond”.

“I know. Remember that time you nearly fell in trying to help that duckling trapped in the weeds?”

“I do. I remember that you had to catch me and I accidentally splashed pondwater on your suit as I stumbled…” you laughed fondly.

“Not the worst thing I’ve had my dry cleaner remove for me. And we got the duckling back to its mom, even if she was furious at us”.

“She tried to bite you…”

“She succeeded”.

You both chuckled for a moment as you reminisced, then it suddenly went quiet between you both. You held the phone tightly to your ear, unsure and a little lost for words. It felt odd to feel tongue-tied around Bucky, it had always been so easy to know what to say to him. Despite how easy it was to slip back into nostalgia just now, and your newfound friendship, there was still something of a gulf between the two of you. You had been apart for so long now.

“…thanks, Buck,” you whispered.

“Anytime, doll”.

💔

After you hung up with Bucky, a nurse came over and you shot up out of your chair with anticipation. She told you that Lou was doing well but was slowly coming around after a heavy sedative. He should be ready for visitors in another hour or so. You sighed heavily but nodded grimly, as long as Lou was alright – that was all that mattered.

You sank back into your faithful chair, pulling out your rapidly dying phone again and wishing you had the foresight to bring a charger when you left Wanda’s. Or some food, at least.

You continued your vigil in the unfeeling hospital hallway, a place that seemed to exist outside of time. But you had to admit, speaking to Bucky had raised your spirits a little. It reminded you of the old days, when he was an anchor in a storm, a calming presence when things were tough. Part of you had missed that.

You’d just closed your eyes a little while later when you heard someone call your name.

“Still hungry?”

Your eyes filled with tears as your head snapped to see who it was.

There stood Bucky dressed in his off-duty grey sweats, his unstyled hair flopping across his forehead. In his hand was a brown bag, you instantly recognised the brand of your favourite take-out place printed across the front. It smelled heavenly.

“Buck…?” you mumbled in shock, not quite believing he was there, “what…what are you doing here?”

He shrugged, “you said you were alone and hadn’t eaten. I know how you get when you’re anxious. Figured you could use this”.

It wasn’t clear if he meant the food or the company, but in that moment, you were grateful for both.

He sat in the chair next to yours and began to methodically remove the food tubs, placing them on your lap and opening the lids as he pulled out a fork and napkins.

“Hope you still like this one,” he said as he revealed your usual order.

“I do”, you replied, your voice small.

“Good. Dig in.”

You began to eat slowly, feeling strangely self-conscious about your audience. Fortunately, he pulled out a tub of his own which took the focus off you. The two of you sat side by side and ate in silence.

“Thanks for this, Bucky,” you mumbled between mouthfuls.

“Anytime. Any news on Lou?”

“Should be ready for visitors soon”.

“Well, that’s good. He’s a tough old bastard.”

You both finished your meals and Bucky got to work tidying up the empty containers and old napkins and depositing them in the trash. You thanked him as he sat back down.

“Hey…thanks again, that was really thoughtful - but really, you don’t have to stay,” you shrugged, “you probably have a busy night”.

He shook his head, “nope. I’m wide open”.

He stared straight ahead and leaned back, his bulk squeezing up against the armrests of the chair. He wasn’t going anywhere.

“What do you mean when you said, ‘I know how you get when you’re anxious?’” you asked him tentatively.

“Just…I know how you can spiral when you’re stressed. Figured you could use some company is all,” he casually as he moved his hair away from his face.

“T-thanks,” you responded, your throat dry, “I’m not really up to chatting much right now, though”.

He was nonchalant, “that’s fine”.

The two of you sat side by side, nothing said.

It was awkward at first, sharing this cold and sterile space with your ex, worries about Lou weighing you down. But then after some time…it was sort of…okay? He didn’t try to initiate any conversation; he didn’t show any signs of boredom – even though he must’ve been feeling it. Didn’t complain. Didn’t check his watch. He just sat and waited with you, his arms propped up casually on the armrests and his eyes trained on the wall in front of him. You were grateful that he’d heeded your request not to speak as you didn’t have the brain power to labour a conversation. You didn’t fully understand why, but him just physically being there was strangely comforting - as odd as that was to admit to yourself.

Eventually the nurse returned, her smile warm as she greeted you.

“Oh, you have a friend. Right on time, Lou is ready to see you now”.

You quickly got to your feet and dashed after her as she led you to Lou’s room. Bucky followed close behind.

Your heart sank when you finally saw him, covered in wires and tubes, his face suddenly much older than his years. You gasped, rushing over to his bedside.

“Hey, kiddo” he wheezed, a smile creeping over his face despite the obvious effort it required, “aren’t you a sight for sore eyes?”

“Oh God, Lou, I was so scared…I thought you’d…” you took his hand in yours, unable to say the words out loud as the tears started again.

You felt like you’d cave in on yourself from the anguish, but a steadying hand found its way to your shoulder from behind you. Bucky squeezed once, a small reminder of his presence, then pulled his hand away. It was grounding, helpful.

“Hey there hon, I’m doin’ okay”, Lou rasped as he weakly tried to grip your hand in return. “But I guess this is a good reminder to lay off the bacon, huh?” he chuckled before the effort caused him to wheeze.

You smiled faintly and patted his hand, careful to mind the IV by his fingers, “you gotta start taking better care of yourself, okay? No more greasy breakfasts at work…”

He nodded slowly, his eyes flickering over to Bucky behind you, “you brought company…”

“Oh, yeah”, you turned to gesture to Bucky, “he sat with me and brought me dinner while I waited”.

Lou nodded, a flash of something in his eyes you couldn’t place. “You takin’ care of her?”

Bucky nodded in return, “of course”.

Lou inhaled deeply, “well…alright, I’m glad she’s not been by herself”, he begrudgingly offered. “I wouldn’t want her out in the cold…so to speak” he said pointedly, a clear reference to that awful night one year before.

“Rest assured…that would never happen,” Bucky responded coolly. “But I understand your concern”.

You watched as the two men stared at each other, something resembling an understanding seemed to lay between them.

💔

You sat with Lou for as long as you could before the doctor shooed you and Bucky out, explaining Lou needed to rest. You promised you’d be back tomorrow.

“Oh hon…no. Don’t waste your time on an old man like me,” he teased playfully.

“Oh, stop that. You know I’m going to be here with balloons and grapes, the whole shebang…” you grinned, putting your coat on.

“Good to see you, Lou” Bucky chimed in as he shook Lou’s hand, “you’ll be fighting fit in no time”.

Unbeknownst to you as you were busy with your bag and coat, Lou used a finger to beckon Bucky to move closer. Bucky obliged, leaning forward so that Lou could speak to him. His words were hushed but clear.

“Hurt her again and I’ll beat the living shit out of you. Bad ticker or not. And I don’t care how many of your goons you set on me…”

Bucky raised an eyebrow, but his expression betrayed no emotion, “understood”.

You turned, smiling obliviously at Lou just as Bucky stood back up to full height and cleared his throat. They both smiled back.

“See you tomorrow, Lou”.

“See you, kiddo”.

You left the room with Bucky trailing behind. As a small sob escaped your throat, his hand pressed firmly against your back. A small reminder that he’d shown up for you. He was there.

💔

[hellfirenacht]

Clean (Eddie Munson x Reader)

Summary: After the battle in the Upside Down, you and Eddie try and get clean.

Tags: Angst, hurt/comfort, smut, happy ending, no use of y/n, reader is not described, unprotected PiV sex, light choking, pet name, barely beta'd

7.7k words

You weren’t completely sure how you ended up back in the right side up, in your home with Eddie. After the fight with Vecna, everything was a blur. You remembered sirens, and an earthquake, and you and Eddie being arrested, refusing to be separated from each other but being forced apart anyway. You remember being bailed out somehow, Eddie’s name being cleared and waiting outside the police station for hours until he stumbled out and looked at you. 

Both of you stared at each other for a long time outside the station, battered and bruised and covered in cuts and bite marks, but alive. It was a fucking miracle considering Eddie had thrown himself into a suicide mission. He’d run, distracted the bats and had you not managed to grab him and tackle him into another trailer he’d be dead, you were sure of it. 

Looking at him outside of the station, you were about ready to kill him yourself. Your eyes burned with tears and if looks could kill, he’d be dust. It took everything not to slug him right then and there for daring to think that he could throw his life away like that, for a town that hated him. 

How could you? Your look said. 

I’m sorry. Came the silent reply as he dared to take a step closer. When you didn’t step back, his arms wrapped around you tightly. 

The two of you held each other for a long moment, and each passing second your anger dissolved as the emotions you’d been ignoring and repressing over the past few days started to surface. You couldn’t do this here. You couldn’t allow yourself to process this outside of the police station, not when the two of you were covered in sweat and blood. 

His hand gripped yours tightly, as if you were the last lifeline he had in this world. There was so much more that needed to be done. He had to tell his uncle he was alive, you had to check on Max and the others, Eddie probably needed some sort of lawyer. You had to see Steve and Robin and see what happened with Vecna while the two of you were in holding. 

But it was late, nearly midnight and neither of you had a walkie talkie anymore and the weight of what the two of you had been through was starting to catch up. 

Your apartment was small, cozy even. Eddie walked in with you, having followed you blindly back home. You couldn’t let him go, even when you dropped his hand to get you both some water from the kitchen you were constantly looking over your shoulder to make sure that he was still there, that he was still real. 

The whole time, he was looking at you, too. 

The two of you sat on your bed, hands clasped together tightly as you both tried to figure out what to say or do. You’d won, Vecna was dead and the gates were closed. You were alive, Eddie was alive and his name was cleared. If this was Eddie’s campaign, you two would be heroes, celebrating and drinking and would be standing tall and proud. 

Instead, the two of you were holding hands on your bed. Staring down at the floor as you both tried to sort through the horrors you’d seen in the past four days. Your eyes closed, and you saw everything; the news of Eddie being suspected of murder, the bats attacking, the upside down, Eddie’s back as he ran away-

A tear slid down your cheek and you gripped his hand harder, and in response he squeezed back. You took a deep, slow breath-

“We... stink.” You weren’t sure you meant to say that out loud but it broke the silence between the two of you. Eddie was silent for a few seconds before letting out a breath that almost counted for a laugh.

“Yeah... yeah we probably do. I haven’t showered in... shit. I don’t want to think about it.” He said. 

“We should shower.” You said, not meaning anything by it. 

“We should.” 

The two of you were quiet for another few minutes, neither of you moving. Having Eddie out of your site, even though you knew he’d be in a room that he wouldn’t be able to disappear in, made your stomach twist unpleasantly. 

But he needed a shower, he fucking deserved to hog all the hot water he wanted after what he’d been through. So you stood up, still holding his hand. “I’ll... show you how the shower works.” 

He followed you wordlessly to the bathroom, and you rummaged through your cabinet and pulled out a spare toothbrush for him. Eddie grabbed it and the two of you made your way over to the sink, brushing your teeth as the first step to feeling like a human again. 

“The left one is the hot water.” you said, turning the shower on for him. “And this button makes it a shower and not a bath.” 

He was staring at you, and you had the feeling that what you were saying was the least important thing going through his mind right now. You didn’t blame him. 

“There’s clean towels right there.” you pointed to the towels on the hooks by the sink. 

The water ran, and it was already starting to get a bit foggy in the bathroom. You turned to look at Eddie, who was still staring at you. His mouth partially opened as if he wanted to say something but for once lacking the words. 

“Take all the time you need.” you said, and started towards the door. His hand grabbed yours, stopping you from moving forward. 

“I...” Eddie said, his large doe eyes were looking at yours with a million different emotions. He didn’t want you to go. You didn’t want to leave. 

There had been an underlying tension between the two of you through this whole week. From the finale of his campaign with Hellfire to you saving his life there was something there. You would have always easily admitted that you found Eddie attractive but had never let yourself move past that. 

The moment that he’d disappeared, you felt like your world had blacked out, only returning to  your senses when he’d had you pinned against the wall of Reefer Rick’s boathouse with a broken beer bottle against your throat. You’ll never forget the fear in his eyes, like a wild animal cornered as the glass poked at your neck as his gaze darted between you and the others. 

What a terrible time to realize that you might be in love with Eddie Munson. 

You had been swallowing your emotions all week, focusing on the task at hand. Dustin brought Eddie junk food, you made sure there was something of substance in the grocery run. At least something that he could heat up so he wasn’t surviving on pure sugar. When the others were busy trying to piece together Vecna, you’d kept your own walkie close, updating him every step of the way. 

You don’t know what would have happened if you hadn’t shown up to Reefer Ricks as the basketball team seared for Eddie. You’d given him just enough time to escape without suspicion, and as thanks you had been witness to the gruesome murder of Patrick in the water of Rick’s boathouse. 

The memory was pushed down as far as you could, and you were brought back to reality by Eddie taking a hesitant step closer. You had never realized how badly you needed him in your life, the freak who’d given you a place to feel safe in a town where a toe outside of normalcy was seen as a crime. 

You needed him, and by the look in his eyes, he needed you, too. 

There wasn’t anything to say, words wouldn’t do anything in a time where actions meant everything. So you squeezed his hand and pulled it away, reaching up to his shoulders to start pushing off both his battle jacket and leather jacket. The heavy garments fell to the floor and he pushed them away with his foot to a corner. You reached up and pulled off his bandana, freeing his hair and tossing it as well. 

Eddie kneeled down and unlaced his shoes, as well as yours. Your shoes and socks were both discarded as he stood back up. You took his hand again, removing each of his rings carefully followed by his bracelet and watch and setting them on the counter. There was blood in the mouth of the pig ring that made your stomach turn and you looked back at Eddie instead. 

His Hellfire shirt was stained with blood and sweat and god knows what else, and he discarded it quickly. Small cuts and bruises littered his body, and you looked over each visible wound. Distress filled you, and you swallowed hard, trying not to think about the bats attacking and biting him just hours before. You’d been so strong up until now for him, and you’d be strong again until you could finally be alone. 

You weren’t expecting him to cup your jaw and tilt your head up to look at him. His brown eyes looked straight into your own and he leaned forward, pressing his forehead against yours. Your eyes slid close, one of his hands moving to the back of your neck. You could feel the warmth of his skin, the slightly scratchy callouses of his fingertips, the way his hand would squeeze slightly on reflex reminding you that he was here and safe. 

Safe. 

That thought alone nearly broke you as it passed through your mind. Eddie was safe, and he wasn’t dead and he wasn’t going to jail for murder. He was alive and cleared and free. 

You let out a choked sob and tried again to push down everything you were feeling but his hand squeezed tighter and his other hand wrapped around your middle and pulled you close. You let out a shuddering sob against his chest, holding his arm for dear life as you tried to calm yourself. 

It’s... really hard to cry with the scent of blood and sweat and boy filling your nose and shocking your senses. 

You met his eyes as you pulled away, but his hands remained firm on you, keeping you grounded. Eddie’s eyes were red and bloodshot, both of you were exhausted. 

Just hold it together. You said to yourself as you pulled your shirt off over your head, and fought with the button on your jeans. Eddie reached down to help you, his thumbs brushing over the bruise on your hand you’d earned from punching a demobat. You stepped out of your pants and reached for his, dropping the bullet belt on the ground which echoed with an alarming clang. 

“Jesus.” Eddie muttered. 

“Why did Erica even grab that?” you asked, as you both stared at it. “Those bullets don’t even work with Nancy’s gun.” 

It was a question without an answer, one of thousands from this week. 

You went back to his pants, pulling on the belt and.. Well that didn’t work. There was a handcuff around his belt that you tugged on. You’d noticed it before a few times, and had always wanted to question this particular fashion choice. But you never did, not wanting him to know that you had ever glanced at his crotch, no matter how innocent the circumstances. 

“Here, it’s uh... a little fiddly.” Eddie said, moving your hands away as he jiggled the cuff and it opened with a metallic click. You reached out again, removing the offending item and hesitated for a moment as your thumb and forefinger held onto his zipper. 

You looked up at him. Are you sure? He nodded and you pulled down his pants, leaving you both in your underwear.

A gentle push on your shoulder had you turning around as he unclasped your bra, letting it join the rest of the discarded clothes before you slid your fingers into your underwear and pulled them down before you lost the nerve. 

You could hear Eddie let out a shuddering breath and when you turned around there was a red flush underneath the layer of dirt on his face. But he didn’t look down at you, not yet, only focusing on your eyes as he also pulled down his boxers.

Neither of you made a move, only staring up at one another for a long time as the water ran. You took in every detail of his face, as if this was the first and last time you’d seen him. His long hair was a greasy mess, his fringe plastered to his forehead and covered in sweat. Dirt and blood speckled his face and there was a cut on his cheek. 

How were his eyes so impossibly round and expressive? You had no idea how he could wear every emotion on his face and yet still not have a clue what he was thinking. You two stood naked in the bathroom, something that would have been laughable to imagine just a few weeks ago, but now it was the least crazy thing that had happened to you in even twelve hours. 

Eddie made the first move, carefully placing his hand on your lower back and pushing you towards the shower. You stepped in, Eddie right behind you as the hot water hit your skin. You let out a hiss as it hit a cut on your shoulder, but other than that it felt... fucking amazing. 

You reached out of the shower to the sink to grab the antibacterial soap that Eddie had left at your place months before after getting the black widow on his chest done. Your mind flashed to him leaning against the counter with his shirt off as you had carefully cleaned the fresh ink. He’d been making a fuss about how it burned and you had scolded him for going to a shady scratcher’s basement and that he was lucky that he didn’t get an infection. 

Had that only been a few months ago? 

Now his tattoo was healed, but there were new wounds to tend to, new permanent fixtures on his body that you wish were just from an illegal tattoo gun. You grabbed a clean washcloth and finally looked over his body. 

It wasn’t like it was your first time seeing a man naked, and you’d seen Eddie shirtless plenty of times before. There was no denying this was different though, and your eyes wandered down between his legs for just a moment, curiosity getting the better of you in the moment because it was better than letting your mind stay trapped in the Upside Down. 

He wasn’t hard. You didn’t blame him, you doubted you could get aroused in this state. You were both tired and gross. You pulled your focus away from his crotch and back to the washcloth, lathering it up and began to wash his shoulders and neck first. 

Eddie’s hands made their way to your hips, unable to stop himself from touching you. Touching you meant that you both were real. 

He let out a small noise in the back of his throat as you began to gently wash away the gime on his neck and shoulders. Dirt and sweat flowed down each of your bodies from the water stream, and you focused as best you could on cleaning each of the cuts on his body, even if he let out grunts of discomfort. 

Your hands started washing lower, running the cloth against his chest and the black widow you’d cleaned a dozen times for him before. Eddie hissed as the cloth brushed over his hard nipples and you couldn’t tell if it was because it felt good or didn’t. You moved lower, washing his stomach and his hands held your hips tighter. It was becoming a game of chicken to see how far down you’d go. 

You were staring at his dick as your hands hovered at his hip bones. It’s not like you could help it, well, that was a lie, you probably could. But it had twitched just slightly, and your mind had raced with a thousand dirty thoughts. 

Not the time. You scolded yourself as you tried to figure out how to proceed. 

Sensing your hesitation, Eddie reached behind you for another washcloth and turned you around. 

“It.. might be better if I do this part.” he said in your ear and your skin erupted in goosebumps. “Between the lake water and the sweat and everything, yeah. Just, give me a second to do that part myself.”

Jesus Christ, he was talking about washing his ass and your body had still reacted. What the fuck was wrong with you? Well other than falling in love with your friend and Dungeon Master, nearly losing him to monsters, nearly losing him again to the justice system-

Something soft rubbed your back and the tension you’d been holding suddenly evaporated. While you were distracted, Eddie had finished his own business and had grabbed your loofah. He was washing your back in slow circles, getting the dirt off of you as well.

You let out a quiet noise and his hand froze for just a moment before resuming. Maybe in another timeline you would have been embarrassed about the noise you made, but not this time. Not when you were touch starved from him, not when he was naked and touching you, not when you two felt impossibly close and yet still so fucking far apart. It was a balancing act, a dance that neither of you knew the music to. Each movement was careful, hesitant, as if one wrong move might scare the other away. 

There will be no more retreating from Eddie, the Banished. Did that extend to you? With the way his fingers slid down your spine you were assuming so. One hand was firmly on your shoulder to keep you in place (as if you were ever going to move away) while the other ran your loofah over your sides. 

He turned you around, endlessly deep brown eyes meeting yours while his hand holding the loofa twitched just slightly. It was his turn to look down at your body fully, eyes raking down over your chest, your hips, and your legs. You saw his Adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallowed, looking back up at your eyes. 

When you gave him a nod, Eddie reached out again, working the loofah over your neck and shoulders. You tilted your head back, letting him get as much grime off you as possible before his hand moved lower, running over your breasts carefully. Eddie’s eyes darted between your chest and your face for any sign that this was too much, that he’d gone too far. But you only leaned closed to him, resting your hands on his forearms as he washed you. His hands drifted lower, not lingering too much on your breasts when getting clean was more important than the hormones that were starting to stir in both of you. 

Just like you had, his hands stopped at your hips, just above your mound. You turned him around the same way he had for you, deciding that you could also wash your own ass for the time being. 

You closed your eyes as you washed yourself, imagining a world where taking a shower with Eddie wasn’t the result of a week of trauma. Maybe he’d joke about how he’d make your tits squeaky clean and you’d respond with a joke about him dropping the soap. Maybe in another life the two of you would be blasting music and he’d be rambling about the latest song he was learning on guitar while you two swapped off who was under the hot water. 

Your bodies were clean now, Eddie taking the free moment to wash off his legs and feet while you did the same. You pulled him back around and reached up to his face with a warmed washcloth, and his hands went back to your hips. Once you were satisfied with that, you grabbed the shampoo and conditioner. 

“Sit down.” you said quietly. 

The tub was comfortable enough for one person to lay in and stretch out but it was more cramped with two. Eddie sat down and you sat behind him, working the shampoo through his hair slowly, your fingers digging into his scalp. Eddie tilted his head back and let out a moan as you massaged and scratched at his head. 

There was a small part of you that said that you shouldn’t be having a reaction to this, that you two had just gone through something terrible and this wasn’t the time to unpack those feelings. 

You told that part of your brain to shove it. 

You peered over Eddie’s shoulder as you worked the lather through his hair, and took in a deep shuddering breath as your gaze was met with his cock standing at full attention. The warmth inside of you was growing as well, made hotter by his constant groans and murmurs of enjoyment. 

You rinsed his hair, and started working the conditioner through his ends. 

“Let that sit for a bit.” you instructed and he made a noise of understanding. You quickly worked on cleaning your own hair, and as the last of the sweat, blood, and tears slid down the drain you were now faced with it being just the two of you, naked, raw, and alive. 

Eddie turned around and leaned against the back of the tub and he wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you in as well. He pressed your back against his chest, his head resting on your shoulder. You leaned back into him, letting him hold you as the warm water washed over you both. 

Your hands reached down to his, and his fingers immediately laced with yours. Around you there was only the thick steamy air and the warmth and safety of the shower. Your fingers rubbed against his, unused to the bare skin without the heavy metal rings he wore. You wondered briefly if they were silver or pewter or some other metal. 

Something soft on your shoulder brought you back to reality, A shiver ran down your back as Eddie’s lips placed small kisses along your clean, wet skin. You squeezed his hand, and he squeezed back. 

The kisses stopped after a moment, and he pulled you closer until you were completely flushed against him. His cock was pressing into your back, and you felt him shift his hips to try and find a way to have you close without bothering you about his physical reaction. 

You shifted in his arms, turning around to face him. The porcelain dug into your knees, but you ignored it to look at Eddie. His eyes were wide and everything stood still. He reached for you again, placing his hand on your jaw, his thumb resting on your cheek. In return you held onto his shoulders, one hand on the side of his neck. 

It didn’t matter who moved first. It didn’t matter if his hand pulled you in or if you had leaned after you looked at his lips. All that mattered is that Eddie’s grip on you tightened and his mouth was on yours and you were pressing up against him and his hands were moving around you and-

You slipped, your knee sliding against the soaked porcelain and your body was pressed fully against his. Eddie’s hard cock was pressed against your stomach, and he jumped at the sudden accidental movement. 

“Are you okay?” he asked, sitting up a bit to check on you. 

No, you weren’t okay. And you didn’t think you’d be okay until he kissed you again. So instead of answering you kissed him again, deeper than before. He didn’t hesitate in responding to the kiss, his hands were sliding around you again, rubbing your back as your fingers tangled in his hair. 

The two of you stayed like that for a long time, meeting each other’s lips over and over again as the hot water fell on you. You’d occasionally shift and feel his cock rub against your stomach and he’d moan into your mouth in response. You liked that, and found every reason to squirm and rub against him as the two of you kissed. 

Eddie’s tongue pressed into your mouth, as easily as if the two of you had kissed a thousand times before. You moaned as he did, the taste of your toothpaste still lingering in his mouth melded with the taste of him. The moan only encouraged him to keep going, exploring your mouth and licking against a spot behind your front teeth that made you shudder. 

The water was getting cooler and it took everything inside of you to finally pull away. Eddie looked up at you with a hint of confusion on his face as to why you pulled back. 

“Did I-” he started and you shook your head. 

“Water’s getting cold. We should get out.” you said. 

He nodded and the two of you untangled from each other and helped each other stand up. You finished rinsing the last of the conditioner from Eddie’s hair before turning off the water and stepping out, grabbing you each a towel. He took it from your hand and wrapped it around your shoulders, using it as an excuse to touch you and pull you into another kiss. 

Your arms wrapped around his neck and he pushed you up against the wall, needing the closeness as much as you did. Each press of his lips was slightly different each time, as if he was trying to decide the best way to kiss you, or maybe to just have the chance to kiss you every way he could. Making up for lost time? Making up for the uncertain future? It was hard to tell. 

“I’m here.” You don’t know why you said it, but those two words slipped out of your mouth in the two seconds that Eddie had pulled away to breathe. 

He was panting, and staring intently at you, his look of surprise mirrored your own thoughts. Then his mouth was on you again, kissing you rougher, holding you tighter, his hands were grabbing at you in a near bruising grip. Eddie’s cock was rubbing against your hip now, and he groaned feeling your soft skin against him. You could feel your own wetness start to pool between your legs as you kissed back, trying to keep up with him. 

“I’m here, too.” His voice echoed back. 

Your hips rocked up against him, and up bit his lower lip, sucking on it hard. He groaned again, and grabbed at your breast, squeezing it before rubbing his thumb against your nipple. You squirmed at the touch, and all you wanted was to be closer, closer, closer. 

When Eddie pulled back, it was your turn to look confused. You were dazed from the kiss, breathless with your heart pounding in your chest. 

“Eds...?” 

“Bedroom.” He pulled himself away from you like ripping a bandaid off. You followed his lips, kissing him again and he shuddered, stumbling back towards the door and reaching blindly for the doorknob. 

With some fumbling, you both managed to stumble into your room, lips locked together. It was cooler outside of the bathroom, and you could feel goosebumps raised along his arms as you both fell back into your bed. 

You wasted no time straddling him, pushing him down by his shoulders and giving him quick rough kisses. 

“Don’t you-” you kissed him “ever” you bit his lower lip “run like that” another bruising kiss “again.”. 

“I won’t” he replied, running his hand to the back of your neck and squeezing it. “I won’t. I won’t run.” 

Before you could capture his lips again, he pulled you down by your neck and latched his mouth against your throat. Eddie wasted no time with soft kisses, immediately sucking hard on the skin and pulling the blood to the surface until a deep bruise bloomed on your neck. You cursed, and ground your hips down on his cock, feeling the length drag against your clit. 

Eddie hissed and kissed the spot lightly where he’d been sucking. His hands gripped your hips, moving his own in rhythm with yours in a desperate attempt to get friction on his leaking cock. One hand slid down to grab your thigh, squeezing the back of it in a way that made your hips shudder and sparks of pleasure shoot right to your core. 

“Fuck, Eddie.” you whispered. 

Hearing his name had him grabbing you and rolling you below him, kissing your neck more. His lips trailed up to right below your ear, breathing in deeply before moving his mouth down to your chest. 

Eddie latched onto one of your nipples and sucked hard, making you gasp and arch your back up. His hand slid down, lower and lower until it was between your legs, sliding a finger through your slit with a trembling hand. The touch to your sensitive folds made you let out a small giggle at the feeling and your hips jerked again before settling back down. 

“Fuck, you’re soaked.” Eddie said, talking to himself more than he was talking to you. He played with your entrance for a moment as he kissed and sucked along your breasts, sliding two fingers through your folds and stroking your clit with careful circles. 

You wanted to beg for more, roll your hips and tell him to keep going, but you couldn’t. If this was any other scenario, you would have. But when his head tilted back to look at you, all words died down in your mouth. This wasn’t something that you two could rush, not now, not after everything. This was more than just sex, more than a desperate quickie after the heat of battle. This was something you didn’t have a name for yet, but you two would figure out in time. 

Eddie leaned over you more, resting one arm by your head. His wet hair ticked your shoulders, and looking up at him, you thought about how a few hours earlier, you were on top of him like this as well, shielding him from monsters. He leaned down and kissed you again as he slid a finger into your entrance. 

Your hands gripped his shoulders, gasping into his mouth. He pumped his fingers in and out slowly, never letting your lips disconnect. Eddie was fingering you, Eddie who’d all but bullied you into joining Hellfire when you were the new kid. The same Eddie who you’d bickered and squabbled with regularly because you two loved to get on each other's nerves. The same Eddie who you’d seen cry when no one else was looking over the death of Chrissy Cunningham-

Another finger slid in carefully and this time he did pull back, looking into your eyes for any sign of discomfort. Instead he found your face warmed and your lips parted in pleasure. You let out a small moan as he moved his fingers again, your nails digging into his shoulder. 

A quiet cry escaped your lips as he curled his fingers inside you, moving them back and forth until you gave him the signal that he had found the right spot. His name escaped your lips in a way he never dreamed that he’d hear. Eddie’s forehead pressed against yours again, taking in every reaction as his fingers explored your inner walls. 

His thumb brushed over your clit, stroking it in shaky and clumsy circles. As unpracticed as it was, it felt good. It felt good because it was him, and because you needed him, and when the fuck was the last time you had even had a chance to get off with everything going on?

“Eddie,” you panted as you moved your hands to his jaw. You kissed him again, and he kissed you back. His fingers sped up, pressing more into that sweet spot that was turning your brain off, removing any thoughts of the Upside Down, or of the shared trauma you now held. Right now, there was only you and Eddie and a mind-numbing pleasure that was building up inside you.

“It’s okay.” he whispered, his hand shaking a little. “Tell me what you need, please.” Eddie looked at you like getting you off was the most important thing he could do right now. You’d only seen this look in his eyes once as he’d cut the sheet rope that connected the two worlds-

“Tell me you’re here.” you begged, the words spilling out without thought. “Fuck, Eddie- just tell me you’re here. That you aren’t going- oh... oh God, please-”

“I’m here.” His voice sounded desperate, looking down at you. “I’m here, I swear. I’m not going anywhere again I- I’m so fucking sorry. I’m here, I’m here, Sweetheart.” 

It was that simple nickname that had you tumbling over the edge. That pet name that had always been reserved only for his guitar. His lips crashed onto yours as you reached your peak, swallowing your moans as your pussy clamped down around his fingers. Your body tensed up hard, and you tangled your fingers into his hair pulling at the roots. Eddie moaned at the feeling, his fingers faltering for a moment before slowing down and then finally pulling out. 

Immediately you felt empty, the orgasm not enough to satiate the need to have him as close as possible. You could still feel your pussy contracting as you came down from your orgasm, and you realized he was still talking. 

“‘M here.” Eddie whispered against your temple as he placed gentle pecks to your skin. “I’m here. I won’t leave again.” 

“I need you, Eds.” you said, looking up at him. “Fuck, I’ve needed you for so long.”

You hoped that he understood what you were saying. This was more than needing him inside you, this was about everything you two had been through together over the past few years. Every Hellfire Club meeting, every Tuesday at the Hideout, every shared joint between the two of you, every shitty study session that never went anywhere because you two would get too distracted and end up talking to each other about everything and nothing. 

You needed it, all of it, all of him. Eddie had made an indent on your life that you never wanted straightened out. You could not, and would not, conceive of a world without Eddie Munson in it. His death would have destroyed you in every possible way. 

Friendship, romance, sex, you didn’t care. If he was willing to just exist in your life, that’s all you fucking wanted. 

You didn’t even notice that you were crying again, until Eddie was wiping away your tears with his clean hand. He had a panicked look on his face as if worried that he’d done something wrong. 

“Shit, I’m sorry. Did we take this too far?” he asked, grabbing a tissue from your bedside table and wiping his own hand off before offering one to you. You took it and shook your head, wiping your eyes and trying to take in a deep breath. 

“No, not that’s not it.” you said. “I just... I was so scared that I was going to lose you, Eddie. I’m still scared that when everything is done you’re going to disappear on me again.”

Eddie looked down at you, and you could almost see the wheels turning in his head. “I thought I was doing the right thing, buying them more time.” he said quietly. “I thought if I could keep them distracted for just a few more minutes, everything would work out. If I had climbed back up, I thought- I was convinced the bats would either break in and attack you and Dustin or they’d go after the others.”

“You’re stupid.” you sniffed. 

“I know.” he agreed. 

“A total buttface jerk.” you added. 

“Yeah, you’re right.” Eddie spread your legs more, putting himself into position. His cock was sliding through your folds now. 

“Y-you’re a freak and my fucking hero.” you gasped out as he pushed himself inside you carefully. Eddies cock stretched you pleasantly and easily. 

“I’m getting mixed signals here, Sweetheart.” he mumbled, kissing along your jaw. Your arms wrapped around his neck tightly, and you pushed your own face against his neck, sucking your own mark against the front of his throat. You didn't care if anyone else saw, you wanted to see proof of this night on him. 

You wanted proof on him every night for the rest of your life. 

“I'm never running away again.” he groaned in your ear as his hips started moving. Eddie held you tighter, nearly suffocating you as he did. How many times had he hugged you like this before, with you laughing and pushing him away, only for him to squeeze you harder telling you that your Strength stat sucked? 

“I'll find you.” You whispered in his ear as he grabbed your thigh, lifting it to wrap around his hips. “I'll find you every time, I fucking promise.”

He moaned loudly, his hips pushing harder into yours. Eddie was as deep inside you as he could possibly be, and each drag of his cock inside you made every nerve light up in your body. 

“Why did you come after me?” Eddie's voice was a near growl. His voice was strained, as if asking that question would snap the connection between the two of you. His lips never left your skin, kissing every inch that he could reach on your neck and face. 

“I couldn't let you- ohh oh God... I couldn't let you go. Couldn't let you disappear again” your body shuddered under him as his angle shifted slightly, just enough that it was rubbing up against that spot again that made it hard to think. 

“You could have died too.” Eddie's voice rattled around your head, frustration dripping from his lips as he sank his teeth into your shoulder. You cried out, dragging your nails down his spine in return, leaving raised marks down his back. 

He hissed and smashed his lips to your again, biting at your lower lip and sucking hard. Eddie looked at you, frustration now in his eyes as he looked down at you. 

It seemed like you weren't the only one processing your emotions through sex. 

“You could have died too.” He repeated. One hand went to the back of your neck, his thumb pressing right below your ear. You met his eyes, suddenly feeling small under him. 

Eddie had only ever looked at you like this once before. You two had a blow up fight the night that Chrissy had been murdered. You'd been so fucking mad at him for not moving Hellfire, having missed that whole conversation as you had a different lunch period. 

You hadn't learned about it until Erica Sinclair had walked in with Mike and Dustin. You'd swallowed the fight until after the campaign, when everyone was celebrating and Eddie was sneaking towards the back of the gym. 

It hadn't been pretty. You two had yelled at each other, called each other every name in the book. You were furious that he'd abandoned a party member and wouldn't budge. 

Eddie had hated that you were the only one to really stand up to him, to call him out for refusing to budge this one time. His brown eyes had turned black as you said things that didn't even fucking matter anymore. 

You saw him leave pissed with Chrissy Cunningham. You wondered if anyone else saw you two fighting that night which would have made him look worse when the cheerleader showed up dead in his trailer. 

Another moan passed your lips and your eyes closed as he started thrusting faster inside you. His hand on your neck tightening and loosening rhythmically, the blood running to your head and cutting off over and over again. 

“I can't lose you either.” He panted, kissing you again in a way that you were sure was going to screw you up forever. “You think I wanted to watch you die, too?” He demanded. 

“Eddie, I-” you didn't know what to say, all you could do was lay there as he mercilessly pushed into you, watching as the anger turned to anguish as he leaned over you. 

“Look at me,” he said, his voice low and firm. The same subtle husky voice he used when he ran his game, the same voice he'd conditioned you to listen to over the past year. 

You nearly came again right there.  

Eddie’s warm brown eyes bore into yours and you didn't look away, even as his pace hit that perfect stride that had your toes curl and made your eyes want to roll back.  

“If I can't run away, you can throw yourself into danger.” He said. “I'm not losing you either.”

“Not gonna lose me-” you panted. “Fuck Eddie, I just-” your back arched as his lips sucked another bruise into your shoulder. “Don't put yourself in danger again and I won't have to.”

“We’re never doing that again.” he grunted into your shoulder. “No more monsters, no more fucking spellcasters, no bullshit alternate dimensions.” His hands were everywhere, as if he couldn’t decide where he wanted or needed to grab you. “Gonna get us as far away from this shithole town as possible.”

Us. 

That word echoed through your brain. Us. That meant there was something more here, a future. A future with Eddie that he wanted you to be a part of. 

You kissed him again, and any more words between you died down as it didn’t mean anything anymore. The Upside Down, the future, none of it. Eddie’s hand finally made its way down to your clit again and stroked it fast. You tangled your fingers into his hair and pulled at the roots, his hips were starting to falter with their thrusts. Each push making your brain grow hazy as the pleasure continued to build inside you. 

Eddie pulled away from the kiss, pressing his lips against your ear again instead. “I’m here.” he promised. “Fuck, right- I’m right here.”

“I’m here, too” you repeated, your own voice breathy and desperate. “Eddie, I-” 

“I love you.” 

Those three words from his lips, had you seeing white. The whole world stopped and your body tensed up. Your nails sank into his back, and if you had been in a more clear state of mind you would have noticed you’d accidentally drawn blood. You cried out, unsure if you had managed to say those words back at all until the orgasm had started to subside. You felt dizzy, lightheaded and you breathed out the air that you had been hoarding in�� your lungs. 

Eddie was staring at you with wide doe eyes, lips parted slightly in surprise. His hips were rocking slower now, as if unsure if he should continue after having apparently shattered your mind.

“I... love you, too.” you managed to gasp out, meeting his gaze. That was enough for Eddie as he picked his pace back up, rougher than before. He pressed his lips against your neck, breathing you in completely, listening to your overstimulated cries of pleasure as he pushed faster into you. 

It didn’t take long before he was cumming too, his hips jerking and shaking as he finally slowed down his thrusts. His weight was fully on top of you now as he started to soften inside you. 

You don’t know how long the two of you stayed like that, with him laying on you and with you stroking his back and matching his breaths. Maybe the two of you dozed off a few times, trying to savor the moment of peace between the two of you. 

Eddie was the one to break the silence with a chuckle. 

“What’s so funny, Eddie?” you asked, your eyes still closed. 

“We’re gonna need another shower after that.” he replied, slowly getting up off you. It was cold without his warmth and you whined at the loss. 

“Sounds like a tomorrow problem.” you mumbled, looking up at him. His curly hair was frizzing badly in its half-dried state. But he still got up and went to the bathroom, you heard the sound of running water and the a toilet flushing before he came back with a towel to clean help clean you up. 

“Did you mean what you said?” you asked quietly, as he settled back into bed with you, the two of  you getting over the sheets. 

Eddie nodded, looking at your blankets before meeting your gaze. “Yeah, I did.”

“Good.” you said and gave him a reassuring smile. “Because I don’t want to fight anymore monsters either again.” 

“Wait that’s-” Eddie stopped and laughed, shaking his head. “You know what I meant.”

“I know.”

“Did you mean it?” He asked. 

“Yeah. I meant it.” you reassured him. 

“Say it again?” he asked, cupping your jaw again. “I want to know it wasn’t just my amazing dick making you say it.”

You laughed. It felt so fucking good to laugh with him again. Had there been any doubt about your feelings for him, that would have sealed it. 

“Eddie Munson, I love you.” you said, looking into his eyes. “And if you ever do something stupid like that again, I’m going to be the one to kill you personally.”

“I love you, too.” he said, and for the first time in a week, his eyes were clear. There was no haunted look in his eyes, no anger, no frustration. For this brief night before reality came back the two of you could just exist with each other. Neither of you knew what was going to happen after this evening, but you knew in your gut that the two of you were going to get through this together. 

----

Please comment and reblog <3

Alternative title: Use Your Tears As Lube

If you cried you have to legally tell me. I'm keeping count.

[sailoryooons]

Bust | KTH | (m)

☾ Pairing: Heistman!Taehyung x f. Reader

☾ Summary: Seeing a beautiful man in the middle of a bank robbery is unusual. Seeing him again afterward is even more unlikely… and yet not unlucky. 

☾ Word Count: 2,211

☾ Genre: Criminal, Smut, PWP

☾ Rating: 18+ Minors are strictly prohibited from engaging and reading this content. It contains explicit content and any minors discovered reading or engaging with this work will be blocked immediately. 

☾ Warnings: Bank robbery, light depiction of fear/anxiety, mentions of poor financial situations and money-related stress, recreational drinking, ‘good girl’ petname, explicit language, sexually explicit content including oral (f. receiving), biting, spanking, implied body worship kind of, a hint of overstim, bodily fluids and cum-eating. 

☾ Published: Monday, January 15, 2024

☾ A/N: This is an idea I randomly spoke about forever ago in a TikTok DM with @gimmethatagustd and this is strictly written to ruin their entire life tonight. I hope it works idk osifodigjoijg. 

☾ A/N 2: Tonight is number four for my 100 Drabble Challenge and I rolled number 24 for criminals! I hope you enjoy my depraved thoughts of Taehyung in that GOD DAMN SQUID GAME OUTFIT AT PTD. MY MASK KINK DOESN’T MAKE AN APPEARANCE BUT BE FUCKING SURE IT WILL ONE DAY. HE MADE ME INSANE. 

☾ Disclaimer: All members of BTS are faces and name claims for this story. This is entirely a work of fiction and by no means is meant to be a projection, judgment or representation of real-life people. Any scenarios or representations of the people and places mentioned in works are not representative of real-life scenarios.

Main Masterlist ☾ 100 Drabble Masterlist ☾ Ask ☾ Song Inspiration ☾

Sweat beads down your back, the trickle of it slower than the clock ticking above your head. Time seems to slow as you sit on a carpet that hasn’t been steam cleaned since the 80s and push yourself against the wall, eyes glued to the open vault. 

It had happened so fast and yet now, it’s like it can’t be over fast enough. Each second that ticks by feels like it takes a year. You cannot hear the chatter of the men inside the vault, but their harsh whispers raise goosebumps on your skin.

At least they haven’t noticed you. Not that you would do much, anyway. You have no intention of going over to push the alarm by the door, too afraid to alert the armed man who stands just outside the vault room on the other side, and far too underpaid to risk your life for a financial institution. 

For a moment, you wish it were you robbing the damned bank. Maybe you could pay off the student loans on your degree you’re not using and run the heating in your apartment during the winter instead of bundling up in several layers. 

Your momentary lapse of delusion passes as the men rush out of the vault, duffles in hand. They’re all dressed in red, black masks covering their faces with shapes on them. You’re vaguely aware that the costume belongs to some sort of show you saw online, but you can’t place them.

Perhaps you’ll watch it now.

“Hurry up,” one of the men barks toward the vault. There had been three inside, but only two came out. “Grab the last and let’s go. Two minutes left.”

They’re gone in an instant. Your eyes dart back to the vault where you can hear the last person inside. Glancing at the clock, you watch the seconds tick by. 

Ten seconds. Fifteen. Thirty. A minute. 

A man dressed in a red suit, hood pulled over his head comes out of the vault. As he slugs it shut with one arm, the bag on his shoulder droops, spilling the contents inside out onto the floor. Bands of cash fall out, thudding around his feet. He swears loudly and bends over, back slipping more to drop cash on the ground.

In his frustration, he crouches and tips the mask up a fraction, shielding his face from the camera above but not from you, huddled on the floor a few feet away.

Your heart skips. The thief is beautiful. Dark eyes focused on his task, a wide nose that fits perfectly on a symmetrical face with high cheekbones, a sharp jawline, and a pursed mouth. There’s a flush in his face from the heat, the tip of his nose an endearing shade of rose.

As if sensing your gaze, his head snaps up. You cower against the wall, realizing now that you’ve seen his face, you’ve doomed yourself. He stalls completely, gloved hand hovering over the cash, eyes boring into you. He arches a brow as if to ask you a question and you respond by shaking your head. 

The thief gives you a cocky grin, nodding before he finishes picking up the money and tossing it into the bag. He looks at you again, a smirk on full display before he winks and pulls the mask back down. “Good girl,” he purrs. “I like that.” 

Despite the situation, your stomach flips. He stands and rushes out, lingering by the door for a second longer to stare at you through the black mask. You can’t see his face, but you know you’ll never forget it, pretty as an angel, dangerous as a devil. 

When the group is gone, you wait in silence, only the pumping of your heart to keep you company. When the cops come and ply you with questions all you can do is shake your head repeatedly. 

I was too scared. I can’t remember. 

-

I was too scared. I can’t remember. 

It is the same thing you tell investigators for nearly two months. Just when you think they won’t keep asking what the man looked like, they finally drop it, handing over the robbery details to the FBI. They were at least a little less callous, caring a little less about how many questions you answered. 

If you had to guess, your unimpressive financial situation even after the robbery was significant enough that you weren’t involved with the robbery. 

It’s hard not to wish you had been. The straw in your mouth belongs to a drink that is far too expensive for you to not wince and it barely tastes like anything. At this rate, you know you won’t get a buzz. You’d love alcohol to take the edge off of the loud club music or loosen you up a bit, but you’re resigned to being sober for the rest of your friend's birthday. 

Around you is a gaggle of men and women, both people you know and new faces trying to pick up your friends. Anyone trying to hit on you has already decided you’re far too grumpy to waste time on, most of their backs facing you as people shout over the music about working in finance.

You wonder if they also rob banks in their spare time. It makes you grin, thinking fondly about the thief once again. You do that a lot.  

Sipping the drink, you glance at your phone. It’s been an hour since you arrived, but you’re wondering if enough time has reasonably passed to excuse yourself. Tomorrow is one of your few days off and you intend to spend it lounging on the couch watching TV instead of nursing a headache.

Someone slides into the space at the bar next to you. You don’t glance up at them, spinning your skinny cocktail straw absently as you stare at the melted ice of your Long Island iced tea. You hoped that once it melted it would turn into a second drink, but it hasn’t. Cold, bitter water it is, then. 

“Why the long face?” You frown at the vaguely familiar voice and glance up, freezing. 

Mr. Bank Robber looks down at you, cocking his head to the side with a wolfish grin. Your mouth pops open in surprise, leaning back a little as you drink him in. This close, he is far more beautiful than you remember, the edges and shadows of his face like a carefully painted fresco. Michelangelo could hardly be talented enough to capture this. 

“You,” you whisper, his grin spreading further. 

“Have we met?” he leans on the bar, dressed in all black. You eye the three-piece suit and the glinting diamonds in the cuff links. His clothes are far finer than anything anyone else is wearing and when you breathe in sharply, you smell a hint of woody cologne. His dark hair is slicked back and you catch the dainty hoop earrings in his lobes. You like the juxtaposition. 

“You know we have.” He tongues the inside of his cheek, turning his head to order with the bartender. His eyes stray to you, raising a brow. You supply him with your answer, “A long island.”

The bartender nods, momentarily stupefied by the heistman’s beauty before walking over to the POS, tapping the screen with the speed and aggression unique to bartenders. 

“Kind of a shitty club,” he mentions, looking around over the top of your head. Sweat clings to your lower back, your mouth growing dry as you watch colors splash on his face. “Your face is too pretty for a place like this.”

“Is that so?” 

“Mhmm.” The bartender puts the drinks on the counter and the man gives him cash, signaling to keep the change. The bartender raises a brow but says nothing, taking the money as he goes. “What’s your name?”

“You probably already know it.” He cocks his head to the side. “I’m sure you looked me up to see if I was a threat or watched me to see what I’d do.”

“You watch too many heist movies.”

“Maybe I watch just enough.”

He laughs at that and your lips twitch. It’s rich, making his face intimidating as he gives you a wide smile and shakes his head. “Alright, maybe you’re right.”

“Can I know your name?”

“For the right price.”

“My silence was a pretty petty, no?”

He bites his bottom lip, eyes dipping down and back up. You sip your drink, feeling a flush of warmth unfurl in your body, most notably between your legs. “I like you.”

“You have to like me. I know your secret.” 

Leaning forward, he ducks down so that he’s murmuring into your ear, hot breath ghosting your skin and making you tremble. “Want to hear more?” Your eyelids flutter as he waits, skin buzzing at his sudden proximity. You nod, feeling lightheaded. “My name is Taehyung. Want to get out of here?”

-

“Fuck,” Taehyung growls, hands skimming your bare sides. You can’t keep still under his gaze, hips squirming and fingers twisting in the sheets. His mouth is swollen and covered in your spit, his eyes blown as a large hand scrapes down to your thigh where he gives you a good slap. “I knew you were a good girl.”

A moan trips out of your mouth. Your thigh stings where he slapped you but he soothes it with the easy back-and-forth motion of his hand, his fingers digging into your flesh. Taehyung is a man starved, having littered your body with harsh kisses and bites, nearly breaking the skin.

You don’t care. You’re feverish for him, room spinning as you sprawl on his soft sheets in a hotel room that is far nicer than anything you’ve ever been in. You burn up like a star, core raging as Taehyung leans back down, pressing your naked thighs open for him as he sucks the skin of your chest between his teeth.

Everything aches. You want him so bad that you feel a cry come out of your mouth, lips wobbling as he laughs against your skin, sinking lower and lower, mouth loud as he sucks at your skin, tongue brushing over the sting of his teeth. 

“Does my good girl need her pussy eaten?” Taehyung rasps, looking up at you where he kneels between your legs. “Is that why you’re crying, hmm?”

Taehyung looks like something out of a thriller. His eyes are dark and hungry, his shadowed face becoming some sort of demon of lust. He’s what you would imagine a dark god. A bacchanal devil, a creature made for sin. 

All you can do is nod in response, feeling Taehyung’s vicious grip on your thighs as he presses you further, your muscles stretching. The strain feels good, as does the slow drip of your cunt down the curve of your ass mixed with his breath.

“So messy,” he murmurs, leaning forward and blowing cool air on your sticky folds. You squirm, the sensation sending you into overdrive as you twist your head to the side, eyes squeezed shut. He’s barely done a thing and you’re worked up more than you can ever recall. “Pretty.”

The slow, soft press of Taehyung’s tongue through your pussy makes you sag. It’s the relief that you so desperately needed, eyes rolling back as he circles your clit and drags his tongue back down. Taehyung is slow as he eats you out, tongue savoring every drop you can give him.

He taps your thigh, drawing your attention to him. He smirks as his tongue dips into your entrance, dragging back up to swirl around your throbbing bud a few times.

It’s impossible to tear your eyes away once you’re watching. Taehyung keeps his razor-sharp gaze on you, bringing his mouth fully to your cunt as he sucks eagerly. There is a rhythm to the curl of his tongue and the sharp suck of his lips, the wet smack of his ministrations driving you crazy.

“Mmm,” he hums, pressing his face in further. He’s messy with it, his jaw and nose covered in shiny slick. He laughs throatily when your back comes off the bed, thighs shaking. “Such a good pussy, just like I knew it would be.”

It feels too hot in the room. Your breaths are coming in too fast and there’s nothing you can do to catch it, Taehyung working you up to a frenzied, frenetic orgasm. You can feel your heartbeat in your ears, pumping so hard that you think you might need to stop.

And then you break.

Your body seizes as you come, a scream ripping through your mouth as Taehyung slurps hungrily at your mess, spurred by your release. You can’t stop shaking as he dives in, unwilling to stop until you’re babbling, nearly lifeless as the orgasm teeters into overstimulation. 

Only then does Taehyung pull his mouth away, trailing wet, cum-spit kisses on your inner thigh, nipping your thigh here and there. 

“Think you can take more?” he asks, slurring his words against your thigh. “Think you can take my cock.” 

You nod eagerly, hand letting go of the sheets and reaching toward him. “Yes.”

“Mmm good. I’m about to bust.” He bites your knee. “And I don’t mean a bank, this time.” 

[bones4thecats]

Could I request Azul, Silver, and Jamil with a baker reader?

What If Their S/O Was A Baker?

Type of Writing: Request Name: What If Their S/O Was A Baker? Characters: Azul Ashengrotto, Silver Vanrouge, and Jamil Viper Requester: Anonymous

A/N: This is slightly shorter than my average piece, but I have like 6 other requests to get through so, bite me😑

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🐙 As we all know, Azul loves to eat sweet foods. It falls into the category of unhealthy foods (which he loves) vs healthy foods (which is canonically his least favorite)

🐙 When he had first seen you bake, he had come back from a housewarden meeting and smelled both a sweet and a more fungal-like scent lingering in the air, and that mix made him slightly fearful but more curious

🐙 He had walked into Mostro Lounge's kitchen and saw that you and Jade were cooking together while Floyd sat down and slept at the counter

🐙 You had looked up from the cookies you were frosting to look like small underwater creatures such as stingrays, clownfish, sea slugs, and even a small bundle of eels like Floyd and Jade, and smiled

" Azul! Come here, I made you something a little bit ago! You came right on time too, it's still a little warm. "

🐙 Walking up behind you, you had reached into a basket with a sea-shell printing that Azul had gifted you a couple weeks prior for your personal usage, and you had pulled out a small cookie

🐙 But not just any cookie, one that was molded at the bottom to look like small tentacles. And as if led upwards, it began to form a small body, the body of a slightly purple and blue octopus

" Since I was making little sea creatures and I thought that you'd be tired from the meeting, I figured I could make you something to heighten your mood! " " Well, you did your job well, my Pearl. "

🐙 Before Azul could actually take a bite of the baked good, you had shook your finger in a 'not-so-fast' way and lifted the rest of the basket's cloth, revealing a small litter of baby octopus in various positions. One even was spilling ink!

🐙 Chuckling at the gesture, Azul laid the sweet inside the basket and hugged you before kissing your forehead with delicacy

" I love you, Y/N. " " And I love you, my little octopus~ "

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⚔️ Let's be honest here; Silver definitely falls asleep when the aroma of your sweets enter his nose. No doubt.

⚔️ Whenever you had started baking and your boyfriend began to catch a whiff of the baking items, he would close his eyes and begin to let his mind wander as his eyes began to close

⚔️ But, when you had baked while he was out training, you had taken a small bag of them outside and noticed that he was sitting on a bench, sleeping of course

⚔️ He wouldn't be your boyfriend if he didn't catch his 29th nap of the day

⚔️ Holding the bag as you smiled at the silver-haired male you called yours, you heard your name being called out by a familiar voice; Lilia Vanrouge, Silver's adoptive father

" Y/N~ I just so happened to notice that you have a bag of delectibles. If I may ask, who are they four? They better be for my son. " " They're for Silver, I noticed that his naps seemed to be getting in the way of having literally any kind of food in his stomach, so I decided to just make these and have him get something in during a break in training. "

⚔️ Looking at your resting boyfriend, you chuckled;

" Though, it seems I was a hint late for that. "

⚔️ Lilia smiled and thanked you for considering his son's meals in balance with his training, as he held that in high regards. And as he floated away to train Sebek for the time being, you laid the treats in your boyfriend's bag and kissed his forehead before walking away

⚔️ Unbeknownst to you, Silver had opened his eyes once you left and smiled. What did he ever do to deserve such an amazing S/O as you?

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🐍 This guy. This guy- he literally does everything in his dorm. And it drives you insane whenever he has to start rushing around to bake and cook for a surprise party that Kalim decided to throw

🐍 So, when you had spoke to Kalim and learned hours prior, while Jamil was away grabbing stuff from down the mountain, Kalim got news that one of his siblings was dropping by and he wanted to throw a party

🐍 And at that party, he wanted a lot of baked goods. His sibling, he said, had a very large sweet-tooth

🐍 You took this opportunity and told Kalim that you were going to bake up some stuff and wanted some recommendations from the person closest to the guest, making him smile and ramble for a little while

🐍 So, when Jamil came back into the dorm and smelled a strong scent of sugars and spices, he had thought that Kalim tried cooking again... or maybe Lilia came back to destroy his kitchen

🐍 Speed-walking to the area in particular, Jamil stood in shock seeing you wearing Scarbia-branded oven mitts as you took out a small tray of freshly baked pistachio baklava

" Y/N? What are you doing in here? "

🐍 When you smiled at him and told him that you had taken care of all the long-time desserts and began to time the long-time main courses and sides for the impromptu party for the Al-Asim sibling, Jamil both sighed in annoyance at Kalim and he slightly chuckled at your appearance

🐍 You had flour on your pants and some batter on your face with frosting and a few sprinkles, and seeing the normally clean you look like such a mess made him laugh. This must be why you laugh when you visited him in the kitchen week prior during the last large-serving party of Kalim's

[lunasblunt]

about you

SFW!!!!

pairing: logan howlett x original fem!mutant character

summary: in the midst of a mission, terra, a mutant with the ability to manipulate earthly elements, convinces logan to leave the hotel room they’ve been confined in

suggested song: about you by the 1975 another pretty basic one ik but i always associate this song w the beach at night i just think it’s perfect for this

CW: drunk/intoxicated characters, sliiiight nsfw??? they swim in their underwear…., otherwise just fluff + some angst ig at the end

A/N: i have been so obsessed w the idea of this for so long u guys have no idea.

***not related to barracuda!!! just a fun little oneshot :)

terra slugs back a shot of whiskey straight from the bottle, trying her hardest not to make a face as logan watches her.

the two had finally started to get along, and it wasn’t everyday logan shared his liquor with anyone.

this mission had really gotten the best of them. they were drained, discouraged and sick of the hotel room the professor had provided them. it was only a matter of time before the two went crazy from staring at the same striped wallpaper.

“i don’t know how you do it,” the girl shakes her head, not fond of the taste lingering in her mouth. “whiskey is not my friend.”

logan lets out a low chuckle, taking a swig the second the bottle is back in his grip.

there’s a beat of silence, the voices of neighboring hotel rooms the only thing breaking the stillness. logan lets out a content sigh as he rests the bottle down. he was finally pretty tipsy, a feeling he’d been waiting on for the past few hours. terra, however, was already quite intoxicated; tossing back shots of tequila at the bar like it was nobody’s business.

a faint ticking of a clock causes the brunette to jump up. she was itching to leave that damn room, and if she heard that clock tick any longer she knew it wouldn’t end well.

“don’t you just…” she starts, propping herself up by sitting on her feet. logan turns his head slowly, savoring the sensation he’d accomplished. “want to get out?”

the man hums in response. she had a point. the two were trapped in this loop of visiting the bar, pretending to be people they’re not, then heading back to the hotel room.

it was starting to get exhausting.

on the other hand, logan knew he couldn’t disobey charles’s direct orders. his wise, trusting voice rang in logan’s ears.

“the professor gave us specific instructions.” he runs a hand through his hair. “it wouldn’t be smart to leave.”

terra rolls her eyes at this. in what world was logan, the wolverine for god’s sake, all for following rules?

“oh come on,” she says with a frown, not taking no for an answer. she scoots closer to him, softly poking a finger into his shoulder. “live a little.”

logan can’t suppress the genuine laugh that escapes his lips.

he’d lived a little too much. two hundred years under his belt… and counting.

with a sigh, logan stands from his seat on the floor. he gives a knowing look to the girl sat in front of him, then turns on his heel to grab his hotel key, reluctantly agreeing.

as the two walk further from the building, logan realizes he has no idea where the pair are even headed.

“so what’s your plan, princess,” the sarcastic nickname rolls off his drunken tongue. “just frolic around the streetlights at midnight? thrilling.”

terra rolls her eyes at the man’s remarks, then reaches for a hand.

“i need to show you something.”

something about the soft tone in her voice, or maybe the way her subtle smirk lit up her face as she turned to him, made the hair on logan’s arms stand. he found himself letting her lead the way without putting up fight, trying to piece together whatever feeling just washed over his body.

terra sports a mischievous grin as she reaches the beach she had taken note of just days before. she’d been dreaming about this area of town ever since she saw it and was eager to finally sink her feet into its sand.

when logan steps onto the beach, he mentally curses himself for not knowing any better. of course her of all people would bring him by the water in the middle of the night.

“the beach.” logan snarls, running his tongue over the inside of his cheek as he examines the area.

“it’s nice, isn’t it?” the girl takes in the fresh ocean air, still smiling.

logan lets a moment of silence linger between them, listening to the sound of the waves crashing against the shore.

it was kind of nice.

as if a switch had been flipped, terra's quiet aura was suddenly replaced by a burst of energy she had been holding back for nights.

“come on!” she nudges the man toward the spot where the water meets the sand, her toes curling as its cold temperature runs over her bare feet.

logan watches, or supervises, rather, as terra drunkenly spins around, ankles deep, careless of her actions.

something about this felt so peaceful, grounding even. maybe it was witnessing someone truly care for the world around them, or maybe it was seeing how the girl no longer seemed concerned with his opinion of her. this was a side of her he’d never really seen. he wished he could capture the moment properly.

he tries to ignore the way that same feeling from earlier grew in his stomach, wishing he’d brought the whiskey with him.

“wanna go in?” terra asks, breaking logan out of his thoughts.

“huh?”

“the water.” she laughs, hiccuping a bit. “do you want to swim?”

logan furrows his brows in disbelief. was she serious?

“no.”

“come on, logan,” she pleas, turning to face him directly. she inches toward him, reaching out for his hands. logan gulps. “when was the last time you went out and did something, i don’t know… spontaneous?”

logan rolls his eyes silently. she was on fire with the old jokes tonight.

“we’ll go in our underwear, so we have something dry to come back to.” she pauses, trying to cling onto the idea that maybe, just maybe he’d go in with her.

no response.

as terra begins to lose all hope, logan starts to peel off the black t-shirt that had been covering his torso.

within seconds, the wavy haired brunette found herself giggling up a storm as she stripped from her clothes; logan tossing his aside and making his way to the water before she’d even gotten to her skirt.

“logan!” she calls out after him, rushing over as the water starts to reach his knees.

thinking back on it, logan would say his first mistake of the night was waiting for her to catch up. the sight of terra jogging into the ocean in nothing but a bra and panties was something, but the fact that the fabric was practically transparent made the feeling in his stomach spread down to his pants.

logan had to squeeze his eyes shut so he didn’t make a fool of himself.

“cold?” she snaps him out of his second daze of the night.

“yeah, cold.”

when they get far enough, terra starts to swim around, floating on her back and practicing all the strokes she can think of. logan watches, trying to seem like his drunken mind wasn’t a shit show.

eventually, the girl makes her way over to him. she smiles as she rests her arms around his neck, their foreheads inches from each other. she plays with the ends of his now soaked hair as she catches her breath, a smile plastered on her mouth.

logan tenses up, his heart starting to race.

she looks up at the moon that sits above them, thankful of its existence, admiring its beauty and the way it lit up the night sky like their own personal nightlight.

“the moon looks so beautiful.” she speaks, allowing herself to lean the side of her head against the man’s chest, still staring directly at it.

logan nods in agreement, trying to seem interested, but he can’t seem to tear his eyes from the scene below him. he took in the angle he had of her, her head buried in his chest as the light of the moon formed a twinkle in her eye.

“a waxing gibbous.” she adds, chuckling. a brief silence falls over the two of them. she glances up at logan, who’s still mesmerized by this “new” version of her, her eyes wide and clueless.

before she thinks to question his unusual behavior, terra watches as the man’s gaze lowers to her mouth. when their eyes reconnect, the silence continues to float between them.

without a second thought, terra leans in, pressing her lips to his.

logan’s taken aback at first, not expecting that bold of a move, but then leans into her touch; cupping a hand around the side of her face as he deepens the embrace.

for a moment everything feels right, their drunken bodies molding into each other under the stars.

until logan rips his face from hers, turning with a furrowed brow.

the silence between them is known all too well.

terra stares blankly at the man before her, caught off guard and blushing with embarrassment. her mind scrambles to think up any possible way she can fix whatever just happened. they were finally at a good point and she decided to mess it all up.

she felt so stupid.

“logan…” she starts, unsure of what she even wanted to say.

he carries himself out of the water, shaking his head with an angry, regretful look painted on his face.

what had she done? for a split second, terra just wants to scream. that is, until the sound of a voice began to echo inside her head.

“terra,” it sighs, unimpressed. terra can’t help the knowing shiver that runs down her spine. “you shouldn’t be out.”

the girl’s head snaps to the shoreline, where she can make out the figure of a red-haired girl and a man standing beside her.

jean… and scott.

logan can be seen snatching up his clothes from the sand silently as terra forces herself out of the water.

this was humiliating.

terra didn’t think jean could tell them off anymore than she already had on the walk back, but when the four finally made it up to the hotel room she was still able to scrounge up just a bit more.

“charles trusted you,” she goes on, pacing back and forth like a tired parent. “figuring you could handle yourselves as grown adults, and you deliberately went and disobeyed him.” terra lets the ball of clothes in her hands cover her partially exposed body. she felt like a teenager again. “not to mention all of this!” she gestures towards the countless amount of empty bottles that had been shared between both terra and logan.

logan sits himself down on the bed as jean scolds them, clearly not wanting to hear it. he knew he shouldn’t have let them leave. he felt like a fucking idiot for letting that ditzy girl drag him out.

“tomorrow night we’ll be attending you, making sure you’re taking care of what needs to be.” scott adds as the couple heads for the door. “clean yourselves up until then.”

“and logan,” jean starts, making eye contact with the wolverine for the first time the entire night. “stay focused.”

with that, the two shut the door behind them, leaving the pair anxious and frazzled.

“logan…” the same, soft tone of voice escapes terra’s lips. she still didn’t know what to say, but she knew she needed to apologize.

logan doesn’t answer. instead, he tosses his shirt at her chest with a scoff.

“put on some fucking clothes.”

[jpitha]

Do What it Takes

Everyone goes on and on about the humans, how strong they are, how dangerous their world is, their risk management (or lack thereof) and even their ability to process the rather worrying things they call “food.”

One thing I haven’t seen though is people discussing their… aspect that I find fascinating. They even have a word for it - grit. It’s this ability to take on unimaginable stress, and maintain that strength of resolve. That realization that the only thing they can do is endure. They even have a saying. “When you find yourself going through Hell, keep going.” Hell here is a substution for any kind of hard times they’re currently experiencing. It’s an idiom, don’t worry about the specific meaning of the word. The saying implies that if you’re “going through hell” then you need to keep going, because otherwise you won’t ever get out of the hard situation you find yourself in.

When it was first explained to me, a lot of what I saw about the humans snapped to place, like magnets on a table.

Once, back during the war I saw a single human shoulder a crew operated slug thrower and - by themselves - hold off an entire Zenni boarding party long enough for the rest of the ship to mount a defense. Not only did they shoulder and fire the weapon themselves, but they survived!

Others weren’t so lucky. I’ve heard tales of humans walking into active reactors to stop an overload, blinding themselves from ultraviolet radiation to repair a hull, and sustain withering gee forces to crush attackers. When asked why they’d do that, most of them replied that they just “did what they needed to” or that “they do what it takes.”

I’m not here to say that we can’t do that either. Having grit or strength of character isn’t solely a human development. But maybe as a result of the world they evolved on they tend to have grit in greater supply than other sapient species. They “do what it takes” because they’ve always had to do what it takes to survive.

A human friend has recently offered to take me to Earth, their homeworld to “see the sights.” His only warning about his own planet was that we should probably avoid some months. I asked why.

He waved his hand dismissively as if it was just a minor trifle, an inconvenience. “Oh, it’s hurricane season in the fall. I don’t know if you want to experience one of them.”

“What’s a hurricane?” I asked, cautiously.

“It’s a large storm that spins up over the ocean as the planets way to help remove some heat from the water. They can get pretty wild sometimes.”

When a human tells you that something can get “pretty wild” one’s fur tends to poof out.

I said I’d think about it, and went back to my cabin to research these Hurricanes. About an hour later I was shaking in my seat, glued to my pad watching video after video of houses just… disappearing in the wind and water.

The next day, I confronted him about the hurricanes. Once again, he was dismissive. “You get plenty of warning, and time to evacuate, they’re not that big of a deal.”

I bristled, and my ears twitched. “Not that big of a deal? But your homes get destroyed!”

He nodded. “True, that does happen. But, it’s not a surprise and we come prepared. You do what it takes if you want to live there.”

I think I’ll take him up on his offer.

[reysdriver]

In Public | J.P.

Day 5 of Kinktober: Public Sex — james x gn!reader smut

warnings: 18+, Minors DNI - smut, semi-public sex, shower sex, mentions of getting caught, oral (male-receiving), a little bit of gagging/choking, cum facial, probably lowkey uncomfortable sex

words: 1.3k

a/n: IT'S FINALLY HERE! I'm sorry I'm late but I promise I'm catching up on the missing kinktober days, do not fret

Every time Gryffindor won a game of Quidditch, you wanted to give James some kind of reward. Usually, you gave him some sweets or a handmade gift right after the game, then you waited until that night to give him the other half of his reward for winning. 

And today, Gryffindor won again—half just because of James. You wanted to make him feel extra good after that game, and you were feeling far more impatient than usual. 

James had already started walking towards the school with a pep in his step, excited to meet you in the Gryffindor common room just like you did every game. He knew he would be getting something as a treat for winning his match. Both of you sometimes wondered if he was just playing for a daily kiss on the cheek at this point. 

But when he saw you in the middle of the crowded room celebrating Gryffindor’s victory, your hands were empty. No bag of jelly slugs, no miniature pies you had snuck into the kitchens to make, not even a little animal you folded out of paper. It was just you. And even though he wasn’t sad to see you, he had gotten his hopes up beforehand. 

You didn’t seem fazed at all when you locked eyes with him, despite your empty hands. You ran up to your boyfriend excitedly.

“Jamie! You did so well out there!” You told him, then wrapped your arms around him and pressed a kiss to his cheek.

He pouted. “You don’t have a gift for me, love?”

“Who said that?” You pulled off of him and smirked slightly. “Of course I have something for you.”

“So what is it?”

You feigned a shocked look, like he had suggested something so lewd. “I can’t give it to you here, James. We’d get detention for the rest of our lives.” You leaned forward and whispered into his ear in your best bedroom voice. “But I’ll be able to give it to you if you take me up to your dorm.”

He finally clued in to what you meant and you could feel his whole body stiffen. “Oh, well, I should shower first. I don’t want to stink while you give me whatever it is you have up in my room.” He tried to speak like you were still talking about a handwritten note so the people around you wouldn’t know what you meant. 

“How about I come with you?” You suggested while batting your eyelashes at him. “It’s just as good as your dorm, plus you could have a shower and your reward at the same time.”

“I think that’s a fantastic idea, love.” He smiled. “The kind of thing that reminds me of how much I love you.”

And with that, you took his hand and you walked—more like a giddy jog, honestly—down the hall to the boys’ bathroom. As soon as you two chose a stall, you started stripping down out of your clothes. 

“If anyone catches us, we’re still getting that detention, though.” James commented 

“It’s way more private here.” You pointed out. “But even if we do get caught, I think it’s worth it.”

You slung yours over the stall door, just caring about them not getting wet, while James took care to fold his uniform nicely and place them beside your stuff. Noticing the look you were giving him, James rushed to his own defence. 

“It’s the star player’s kit, it’s an important piece of fabric! Even worth waiting a few extra seconds for this.”

 “Are your clothes safe and sound now, Jamie?” You mocked him. 

“As safe as I can make them.” He replied, even though he knew you were making fun of him. 

You reached behind your boyfriend’s back and turned on the water to the temperature you normally liked, but was far too hot for James to ever shower with unless he was with you. 

He flinched slightly once it hit his bare back, but you soothed him by cupping his strong jaw and crashing your lips against his. It was obvious James trusted you to take the lead, meaning he wasn’t entirely sure what to do right then, especially with his hands. He opted to subtly reach behind him and turn the water temperature down, which you noticed immediately. 

You stopped kissing him, and just looked at him with a raised eyebrow for a second. 

“I’m sorry, love, just tell me what to do from now on.”

“Just relax. Put your hands on my head if your heart desires, but you don’t need to do anything.”

After that, you lowered yourself onto the ground, kneeling just a few inches away from James’ massive cock. It certainly wasn’t the first time you’ve seen it, but the size managed to take you by surprise every time. You brought a hand up to the erection that had already started growing, then gave him a few pumps to ensure he was hard for you. 

James was looking down and watching what you were doing to him, but you didn’t feel nervous at all. Maybe that’s what love is. In fact, you actually enjoyed him watching you, and you looked up to make eye contact with him. 

“Are you ready?” You asked softly. 

“Of course. It’s the reason I won the Quidditch game.” Even though he absolutely had not known that this was your plan before he got on the pitch, you didn’t say anything about it. 

You just leaned forward, bringing James’ cock to your mouth and swiping the tip a few times with your tongue before filling your mouth with as much as him as you could fit. James let out a heavy breath, right at the same time as you gagged around him. 

“Are you okay?” He asked, not wanting to ruin the mood but still worried after you choked on his length. 

You nodded, then sucked on what you could fit in your mouth, and just stroked the part of James’ dick that you couldn’t. 

You kept going, knowing you were doing well because of the noises that came out of your boyfriend as you worked on him. It was honestly getting to a point where your whole face was getting numb, but his moans were masking all of that going on with you. 

“I’m gonna cum, love.” James said, interrupting his own chorus of groans. ”Where do you want it?” 

You pulled off of him just for a moment to answer him. “Wherever you want it, Jamie. This is your present, right?”

James was surprised he didn’t finish right there, hearing your raspy, seductive voice while you stroked him like you didn’t even have to think about it. 

“I wanna cum on your face.” 

You smiled, and took him out of your mouth, but continued to jerk him off so he could end how he wanted. 

With a moan that echoed throughout the whole bathroom, James reached his climax, painting your face with thick spurts of his cum and making you even more of a masterpiece than you were in his eyes. 

You kept going until it was all out of him and on you instead, then you stood up and looked at James; you were both grinning at each other. 

“I feel like that was way too good of a gift for one little Quidditch game, but I loved it.”

“I thought you would.” You said. “So, I should probably stick to this as the present after a really important game then?”James brought his hands to your face, wiping away the mess he had just made after taking a minute to admire how you looked covered in him. “I don’t care how important the game is, now that I know this is a possibility, Gryffindor will never lose again.”

[arachpool]

Transmasc!James who hasn’t told a single person outside of his family, not even Sirius knows until he begins to live with the Potters. It got sorted out at Hogwarts so no one would ever know, and it wouldn’t get figured out, he would just be James. No one knew what was in the past. James had always been James. No one could ever figure it out.

Ideally.

James’ whole perfect set up seemingly crumbled to the ground after a Quidditch game against slytherin that ended too quickly and resulted in an overall win, but didn’t really commemorate toward the House Cup due to lack of points and a too-quick catch of the Snitch. James was eager, sue him.

He was alone in the locker room, as usual, as he always waited for the rest of his team to exit before even beginning to change. He had been in the middle of changing when Regulus barged in, clearly in the wrong locker room.

Dread was barely enough to explain the way James felt, yanking his robes to his chest to hopefully cover the dark crimson binder that constricted his chest. Regulus noticed it. Of course he did. He was too observant not too.

Regulus wasn’t stupid. It clicked awfully quick for him, and then how drastic this must feel for James hit him like a brick. Eyes widening, he made quick work of an exit, huffing out an apology.

James nearly cried that night, and decided confronting Regulus would be the best option.

So he managed to find the younger before Quidditch practice, tugging him into a random empty classroom.

“What, Potter?” Regulus asked with slight annoyance at being disrupted. James swallowed.

“Yesterday. About yesterday.” It clicked in Regulus’ head what James was getting at. Regulus blinked up at the brunet. “Can you not…tell anyone? Like- please? I just-”

“That I walked into the wrong changing room? Potter, why in the world would I tell anyone that?” Regulus quickly covered, shaking his head in mock annoyance. James blinked. He wasn’t stupid. He knew Regulus knew. He also knew Regulus was obviously already denying the concept. A warm smile spread across James’ face, one that made Regulus’ heart skip.

“Thank you, Regulus.”

“Sure, Potter. Sure.” Regulus left the classroom as quickly as possible, desperately attempting to shake the feeling in his chest.

Months passed, and with each one, James and Regulus grew closer. It wasn’t intentional at first, James would beg to be Lily’s plus one to Slughorn’s Slug Club parties, and Regulus was a part of them, and who could really blame James for gawking at Regulus when he first saw him in dress clothes. They’d talk at the parties, more words being spoken at each one until they started hanging out outside of these things; sneaking up to the Astronomy tower at night, huddling under James’ invisibility cloak as they searched the castle for places to just hang out without the chance of being caught.

Until one day, James trudges into breakfast looking like fresh hell, and barely speaks to any of his friends. As if knowing this was a monthly occurrence, none of his friends even batted an eye at the mood shift. Sirius even continued on like nothing was different. Regulus had noted this during prior months, but didn’t care as much as he did now.

Again, Regulus wasn’t stupid. He could put two and two together.

So after James rejects Regulus’ offer to hang out after practice, James is wholly shocked to find a pile of items sitting on his bed when he enters the guys’ dorm that night. Peter and Remus had already knocked out, it being so close to a full moon that Remus was too exhausted to even bother going to Sirius and James’ practice. Sirius was too clingy to notice it, crawling into bed with Remus almost instantly.

James, on the other hand, was gentle with his random gifts as he examined them. On his bed sat a dark green blanket and a small box with a note placed atop it. He unfolded the note gingerly, smiling stupidly at Regulus’ neat handwriting.

My sun,

The blanket has a heating charm on it for you, and the box has some chocolate frogs and also chocolate from the kitchen. I had a House elf deliver it for me. I hope you feel better.

-R.A.B.

James couldn’t help the grin that plastered over his face. He sunk into the bed, positioning himself with the new blanket and popping a piece of chocolate into his mouth.

The next morning, Regulus was hit in the temple with a paper airplane. He gave an irate glance toward the origin before melting at James’ goofy grin. He neatly unfolded the parchment, smiling at the messily scrawled out ‘thank you I luv ya’ in still wet ink.

[spicyspiders]

old man logan part 5

2.6k words

I'm sorry to all the people that have been sending me requests, but I keep thinking of new parts I want to add to this series. This part is really fluffy, but there is a bit of smut at the end.

Part 1, Part 2, Part 3, and Part 4

It was Friday, which meant you should have been able to relax. You could feel the heaviness of the week slowly falling from your shoulders each step to your dorm. You let out a sigh of relief once you were through the door, and though it was tempting to throw your bookbag to the floor to not touch again until Monday, you couldn’t risk breaking your laptop. 

Face down on your tiny, unmade bed, your bookbag laid carefully on your desk, you heard the noise of a knock at your door. You had learned your roommate's schedule quickly, and knew that he wasn’t supposed to be back for a few hours. You glanced at your phone with a puzzled expression to make sure you had the time correct before you went to open the door. 

“Logan?”

“Hey,” he said with a soft smile as he leaned against the doorway. He shouldered past you into the room, but not before pressing his lips to yours in a chaste kiss. He carried with him a black garment bag that he laid out on your bed once he was past you. 

“What’s this?” You asked as you closed the door. 

“Open it,” Logan said, an excited look in his eye. 

You unzipped the bag slowly, a dark blazer coming into view as you pulled, “what’s this?” You asked once more. 

“I wanted to take you out,” Logan answered as he played with his fingers, looking slightly nervous, “if you aren’t busy.”

“No,” you said softly, running a hand down the jacket, “I’m all done for this week,” you finished, looking up at him with a smile. 

“Good!” Logan responded quickly, your smile growing with how thrilled he sounded, “good,” he repeated after he cleared his throat. He stepped away slowly, “well I’ll,” he pointed over his shoulder with his thumb, “give you some space and let you get dressed,” he said, stopping to stand in the corner of your room. 

“Some privacy,” you murmured loud enough for him to hear, after noticing right away that sure he had turned his back to you, but that put him right in front of your mirror where he could watch you get changed. 

You could hear Logan’s chuckle from across the room, his eyes watching you closely. Though his gaze was warm, it brought chills to your skin as you changed. 

You went to zip up the dark blue dress pants he brought you, but Logan stopped you, “I’m taking you somewhere nice,” he said with a laugh, “tuck in your shirt,” he commanded, but did it himself. 

“You just wanted to get your hands down my pants,” you said, trying not to shiver when his hands brushed your thighs. 

“I have a reputation to uphold,” Logan responded, helping you then put the black blazer on. 

“Does this sustain it?” You asked, looking yourself over once fully dressed. 

You rolled your eyes as Logan looked you over from head to toe, “you should pack an overnight bag before I tear these clothes right back off,” Logan said once he looked you back up in your eye. 

Under his heated gaze, you quickly packed a bag for the few days you would be gone from your dorm. You had to swat away Logan’s hands on your way to the bathroom to grab your toothbrush, laughing as he huffed in annoyance. 

“You ain’t doing a lot of studying this weekend,” Logan said when he saw you reach for your bookbag, the bag you just packed slug over his shoulder. 

“I have a few assignments due,” you said with a roll of your eyes. 

“It can’t wait until Sunday night? Isn’t that what everyone in college does?” He asked, glaring at the backpack hanging off your shoulder like the mere presence of it offends him.  

“If I get them all done tonight,” you said, securing the other. strap on your shoulder, “we get more time together and you can bring me back as late as you want on Sunday,” you said as you stepped up to him, smiling as he became less grumpy looking. 

“This is why you’re in college and I’m not,” Logan said with a chuckle. He leaned forward to steal a kiss before ushering you out the door. 

“You don’t need to be in college to have good time management skills,” you said over your shoulder, rolling your eyes once more as Logan watched your ass as you walked. 

Minutes later, seated in Logan’s old pick up truck, the radio played softly in the background as he drove. You stole a glance every now and then, looking away quickly at the times you were caught, making Logan snicker.

”You gone shy on me?” He asks over the radio, not looking away from the road. 

“What?” You ask, “no,” you say after a pause, smiling to yourself when Logan places a hand on your thigh. 

The rest of the drive to the restaurant is filled with silence, save for the radio. Each and every time you look at Logan, he has the same smile on his face as his hand runs slow circles across your thigh. 

“Watch it,” you say, knocking his hand away when it gets too high up.

”Stay there,” Logan commands softly once he’s parked. 

Your hand freezes on the handle, and you watch in confusion as Logan quickly gets out and crosses to your side of the car. He opens the door quickly, his face a darker shade of red as he blushes. 

“Thank you,” you murmur.

He pulls you closer by the front of your jacket, looking you over intently as he smoothes out the wrinkles from the drive. 

“There we go,” he says to himself as he looks you over one last time. 

“Thank you, Logan,” you repeat. 

He guides you with a warm hand at the small of your back, opening the door to the building like he just did with the car. It almost feels surreal, but the rush of cool air that hits you inside the restaurant brings you back. 

If someone had told you months ago that you’d be watching the Mr. Howlett tell the host about the reservation he made, standing in an outfit that he gave you, while his hand rested on your lower back, you’d call them fucking crazy.

You look over the menu as Logan sits across from you doing the same, “do you know what,” you start, but your mouth falls open in surprise when you look up. 

“Hm?” Logan asks, looking over the glasses he’s put on. “What?” He asks, his brows pulled down in confusion. 

“Nothing,” you answer, quickly looking back down while you fail to bite back a smile. 

“Did you wanna read the menu to me?” He sasses, sending you a glare. 

“No,” you say, setting the menu down and holding your hands up, “I just didn’t know you wore them,” you say, reaching over the table to place a hand over his balled up fist. 

“They’re new,” he says. He lets out a sign as he sets his menu down, “sorry,” he says softly, his hand loosening, “I’m still getting used to them,” he says, his eyes watching as you laced your fingers together. 

“You look handsome,” you say, running your thumb over the back of his hand. 

“Still do?” He questions, looking up at you again over the glasses. 

“I always do,” wondering if now would be the time to show him that he had been your wallpaper on your phone for nearly a month. 

Logan listened intently as you spoke about how your semester was going throughout dinner. You worried at times that the conversation was boring him, but then would remind you of how it was doing the opposite. Which vaguely came in the form of threats, making you laugh. 

“You can’t do that to my professor just because they piss me off,” you say with a nervous laugh. The restaurant wasn’t that far from campus, someone could overhear. 

“What about your roommate,” he asks after swallowing a forkful of food, “he’s still not cleaning?” He asks, stabbing into his food in a way that made you think he was imagining it was the people you were complaining about.  

“He has his side and I have mine,” you say as you take a sip of your drink. Logan fixes you with an unimpressed look, “but yes,” you say with a sigh as you pick up your fork again, “I wish he was cleaner,” you say, smiling at the way Logan smirked. 

“I’m sure I’ll see him on Sunday,” Logan responds. 

“Logan, no,” you say sternly, not liking the way his smirk grows, “you already do enough.”

Logan barks out a laugh, ”what’s that supposed to mean?”

”You terrified my RA.”

”I was trying to get in your building and they were standing right outside!” He responded, his fork falling to the plate with a clink. 

“It’s every time you come on campus. People know me as the guy with the six foot tall boyfriend that’s built like a brick house,” you say.

Logan stares at you with his brows raised. He’s quiet for a few moments, letting your brain catch up to what your mouth just said. 

”Boyfriend?” He asks, a slow smile stretching out over his mouth.

”Yeah,” you say shaking your head quickly, “I meant-”

”I like that better than brick house,” he says, saving you as you try to stutter out a response. His foot brushes yours under the table, just in time for the waiter who approaches with the check. He pays no mind to the man as he places it down onto the table, his eyes staying on you the whole time as looks at you fondly.

-

“Wait!” You say as Logan crowds you against his door, “Logan let me-”

Logan cuts off your protests with a kiss, one much softer than you were expecting given the amount of time you’ve been apart. Your bags fall to the floor with a thud, your brain faintly registering that your laptop is in one of them. A second later though, your mind is solely focused on Logan. 

With his arms now free, Logan pulls you into his arms, but this time, his head is ducked down into your neck as he holds you close. 

You aren’t sure how long you stand like that in the silence of his house. His breath softly hits your skin as he runs his hands up and down your back. Darkness surrounds you both, which would normally put you on edge in such an open space, but you feel completely at ease. 

His hands move to your jaw to cradle your face in his palms and you both laugh when Logan tries to kiss you but misses. You place a hand on the back of his neck, using your hand to guide his mouth into yours through the darkness. 

He tastes faintly like the food he just ate, but there’s another taste underneath, a taste that’s simply his own. It drives you crazy when it hits your tongue, your arms moving around his neck to pull him closer so your tongue can go deeper. 

You both trip your way to Logan’s bathroom, laughing at each other as you stumble your way through the darkness. Under the light of the bathroom, you see how disheveled you both look with your clothes half on, while Logan’s hair sticks up messily in all different directions. 

“Let me look at you,” Logan breathes, his hands once again on your cheeks to cup your face, “so handsome,” he says softly as he runs his thumb along your cheekbone.

You help each other get your clothing off slowly, like you’re savoring the moment. You smile as you unbutton Logan’s shirt and find one of his signature tank tops underneath.

“Something funny?” Logan asks with a smirk. 

“No,” you respond, trying to bite back a smile. Your hands go underneath the shirt to tug it off, fingers running through the hair on his chest.  

Logan steps away once shirtless to go turn the shower on, a veil of steam already behind him when he returns to get the rest of your clothes off. 

Under the warm spray, Logan once more pulls you close, his half hard cock rubbing against your thigh. His moans bounce off the shower wall when you push your hips forward to grind your cocks together, his hands moving to grip your waist. 

Standing under the water, you push Logan by the shoulders until his back is against the wall, the older man hissing at the cold contact of the wall to his naked skin. You press your lips to his in a dirty kiss, taking in his moans when you get both of your cocks wrapped together in your wet fist. 

You stroke your cocks together until your hand falls away so you can instead rut together as you near your end. You move your hands to grip the globes of Logan’s ass, your fingers digging roughly into the skin. 

Logan moaned at the pain, his hips twitching as he too chased his edge. His hands went to your slick, wet hips, your moans echoing off the bathroom walls. 

The mess you would have made washed down the drain when you finally came with a loud, drawn out moan. Logan answered with ones of his own seconds later as he splattered your chests with his spend. 

His arms moved to your lower back to support your weight as he guided you both fully back under the spray. His forehead rested against yours as your breathing returned to normal as your cocks softened, the two of you exchanging soft, wet kisses between breaths. 

“Having fun?” Logan asked as you slicked his hair back with the water.

“You should wear your hair like this,” you said as Logan reached for the body wash, “or,” you said when he turned back around, your fingers going back into his hair to slick it back to make two horns, “like this,” you said as you admired your work. 

“I’m not wearing my hair like that,” he responded dryly as he lathered up his hands with the soap, “stop pouting,” he said before leaning forward to kiss the pout from your lips. 

“Why not?” You asked, letting your hands fall to your sides to give Logan ample room to work as he cleaned you. 

“I already did,” he answered, looking focused as he worked. 

“Seriously?” When?” You asked, already excited. 

“It was a lifetime ago,” Logan said with a chuckle. 

“Do you have any pictures?”

“No,” Logan responded with a shake of his head, sending droplets of water onto your skin. 

“Oh,” you said, looking down at your feet to watch the soapy water hit the tub, “was it before cameras were invented?” You asked in all seriousness. 

Logan paused to fix you with a glare, his lips in a thin line. 

You yelped when he quickly lifted one of his hands to pinch your nipple, the man’s laughter booming off the walls when you slapped at his chest in return. 

“You okay?” He asked after pulling your hand away, trying to shake off the pain after feeling like you just slapped an actual brick house. “Let me see,” he commanded as he grabbed your hand. 

He inspected your hand slowly, and you yanked it away when he tried to turn it over for further inspection. 

He pulled it to his mouth, his lips pressed to one knuckle after the other, “I think you’ll live,” he said, picking up the body wash again, “besides,” he said as he flipped your hand over, “it’s my turn,” he said as he squeezed a generous amount of the soap into your palm. 

[pedge-page]

Joel Dealing with Preggo Wife : Smooches

Joel Miller x F!Reader

Notes: written in honor of the fabulous and fantastic @romanarose birthday today!!! 🎂 I would not be writing Pedro fics if it were not for their fantastic stories that got me hooked so everyone PLEASE wish our lord and Savior the bestest birthdays of all!

- - - -

Joel knew pregnancy brain was out of wack when you started slamming the table with a fork and knife at 5pm like a senior citizen demanding dinner.

"I aint got anything you aren't gonna throw up later. We're going out," he states with hands planted on his hips.

"Ooh yay!" You wiggle out of your chair and grab your purse. "Jone's steakhouse?"

"If that's what you want."

"But you have to ALSO want it. Or it feels like you don't want it and makes me feel like I'm dragging--"

"JUST. get in the car, sweetie," he grits with a fake smile, opening the door.

-

Dinner was good. Steak was solid. You complained it wasn't salty enough even after you dumped the entire shaker onto each slice. But now that both your bellies are full and satisfied, with you rubbing your exceptionally swollen one happily, the drive home was finally peaceful.

Until you kept smacking your lips. The quiet air was filled with schmockschmockschmock sounds from your beautiful but ever so annoying mouth.

Joel clears his throat but keeps his eyes forward and mouth shut. Just gotta get you into bed and it's a sold evening.

He hears you digging in your purse, scavaging deeply for--

"Oh no. Nononononono!" You shriek, hands splitting the seam of the bag open to dump out all its contents on your lap.

"What, what's wrong?"

After clearly seeing all pockets were empty, you shout, "Oh my god noooo! Oh god please don't be happening."

"What you forget your phone? Wallet?" He asks worriedly.

Instead of just outright answering him (because thats just ridiculous) you start panting heavily and tearing up. "I cant live. I need it Joel."

"Need--need what baby? Just tell me, I'll make it right."

But you're too hysterical and hyperventilating  at his brain dead question to give him the answer.

Roll with the punches, Miller. Stay calm. Resolve.

"Okay it's OK probably just sitting on the ground at the restaurant. I'm turning around, okay baby? Please calm down, we're gonna get it back."

Joel explains to the host that you just saw 15 minutes ago that his wife (he gestures to his obviously pregnant and agitated , volcanic explosion of a meltdown wife who's having a panic attack) forgot something and would like to check the table again to find it.

The host rushes the two of you back to the table to avoid mount doom from exploding.

But after thoroughly searching for something that only YOU know what is missing, absolutely nothing comes up around the table that doesn't belong to said restaurant and table.

"What did you lose?" He finally asks hesitantly. It MIGHT help to know. "Phone? Wallet?"

You take a deep breath, eyes swollen and red, cheeks blown warm and shiny with tears as the world crashes around you at the devestating realization that its GONE gone:

"My LIP MOISTURIZER!"

You slug your shoulders and tilt your head back to wail in the middle of this albeit emptying restaurant while Joel and everyone pauses to quietly stares at you.

Joel's expression with an edge of disbelief and exhaustion.

He takes you by the hand as you still cry, thanks the host with a wave and gets your fat ass in the truck.

"We got more at home... right?"

"Joel!!" You snap. "If I HAD another one, I'D BE USING IT! I wasn't finished with the last one! Everything will be wrong if I open a new one when I still has the other one every day for 6 months!"

"You've had this one chapstick since I got you pregnant?"

"LIP. MOISTURIZER." You throw yourself back into the comfy seat. "You only like kissing me when it's moist and pleasant and NOW you won't like me--"

"Babe I never even knew you had stuff on--"

"WELL NOW YOU WILL because it won't be on and everything is RUINED! I have to over compensate for your dry peely nasty crunchy flaky dead lips, but now you won't love me and our baby because I won't have silky smooth moist plushy baby girl lips and then my husband won't have juicy sucker's to suck on when we make out and get his fat cock sucked by my once pillowy beautiful lush lippy lips...!" and then you start sobbing again.

He shakes his head. "Listen, how about I get you some more first thing tomorrow morning--"

"Tonight!"

"Right, tonight. That's what I said." He gulps hard. "And uh, you'll be... coming with me?"

You slowly turn your head and narrow your eyes. He does now see the clock is 8pm, sharply past your self imposed bed time.

"I meant you'll be coming with me... as I drop you off at the house. Then I'll go back out."

You nod as if saying 'that's more like it,' before folding your arms over your chest.

He squeezes his eyes shut and internally rolls them as hard as possible.

-

The closest 24/7 general store was 10 minutes thankfully. He grabbed a handful of different flavor chapsticks and dumps them on your lap--

"Joel what the FUCK are these."

"Chap--!"

"I WANTED LIP. MOISTURIZER! NIVEA! EOS! VASELINE! NOT THIS CHEAP SHIT."

He growls--not this shit again. He has flashbacks of the taco yackies incident roll through his mind. "YOU ASKED FOR CHAPSTICK! I GOT EXACTLY THAT!"

"Chapstick is a BRAND name. This stuff makes my lips burn and feels even drier. Joel do you SEE my lips!" You point both fingers directly at your mouth and purse out. "DRY. AS. FUCK. these are NOT dick sucking lips.  They will start fucking peeling soon.  and then I don't know if I will be able to kiss my own baby's noggin when she's first born less she be DISGUSTED--"

Hes back in the car before you were even done yelling.

Back at the store. Staring at the wall of different lip care options. This is 10x worse than the tampon and pad aisle. THAT one he's a pro in. Pussy King expert for all its needs. Even shows other women that come back exactly where and what they're looking for. But this shit??

There's so many flavors. Why does the flavor matter? Cherry red, cherry blossom, cherry berry--what the fuck is the difference? One says lip moisturizer, the same one next to it says lip care, then lip cream, lip balm, lip lush, lip lotion... fuck.

He does the sensible thing: pulls one of every single item into his arms, struggling but managing to hold haphazardly close to his chest (the man doesn't get a basket for shit because he only comes on for the exact ONE thing he knows he's getting). When he hobbles to the tired cashier, he leans forwards and dumps it all the counter with a sad smile. A smile of which drops quickly when the total comes to exceed $85.

-

9:14pm. Could be worse. You're eating a bag of extra salted chips--which he suspects is only going to make the lip situation worse but whatever. One by one, he basketball chucks them into your lap. You inspect each one, scoffing at all the useless flavor ones that just don't work, until finally holding up the vanilla honey extra moistening stick. You rip it from the package, pop the lid off and slather that shit on with a orgasmic groan, rolling your eyes back as it glides over and over your lips repeatedly. You smack them to spread evenly, all shiny and pretty before nodding approval.

Joel sighs and tosses himself on the couch, head first into your lap. You rub his hair and continue watching the TV, gnawing at the chips carefully so as not to ruin your fresh lips, as he falls asleep and snores deeply.

It lasts for a minute before both you and he feel something small against his temple stir in your belly.

He sits up like rocket, and the two of you stare at one another in shock. You both slowly look down at the belly, hands crept over its rounded expanse, and wait.

Then--an almost inperceivable yet delicate tiny kick. The first one.

Neither of you have words as excitement floods your faces.

"See. Even the BABY needs the best kissy lips."

He grabs your face with both hands and smashes his lips onto yours like he's gonna suck your soul away.

When he finally pulls off with a big grin (and you thrown back against the couch with a delirious expression getting oxygen back to your brain while your pussy drips fresh juices onto the couch), he smacks his lips tastily and enjoying the soft, silky, honey sweetness of your lips.

"Oh fuck, that is good."

You grip his shirt and force him back down to make out with you again, falling sideways on the couch as you both hungrily grope each others' bodies.

-

The next day you find your brand new lip moisturizer missing. It's set in the bathroom vanity, somewhere you did NOT left it. When popping it open, it has suspicious short little whisker hairs stuck to it. You frown but plant it back where you find it, run behind the door, and wait. About 2 minutes later, Joel comes in, searches behind him around the room before sneaking the little stick off the counter and hustling to the bed. He lies on his back, pops it open, and greedily smears it all over, humming contently and whispering "mmm yeaaaahhhh" before smacking his lips and pursing them out.

You fall over giggling in the bathroom at his new found guilty pleasure.

- - - -

Taglist

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[noemilivv]

hey! I hope you’re doing well! I swear you’re like my fav hazbin hotel blog ever!!

could I request something with gn reader x Angel Dust, Alastor, Husk, Lucifer and Vox (exclude someone if they’re too many characters) in which reader comforts them after they have a nightmare?

have a good day 🫶🏻

hey, i’m glad you enjoy my stuff!! ofc i can do that for you!! enjoy ~

Warnings: Nightmares, Mentions of Abuse, Mentions of Valentino, Implied Masc!Reader in Angel’s part, Profanity, Mentions of Sex in Lucifer’s part

Angel Dust

Light. A flash of light is what woke you up. It was coming from the bathroom, groggily, you got up and slugged to the bathroom, only to find your boyfriend standing in front of the sink, washing off his face, a shocked look on his face.

“Baby? You good?” You asked, a bit cautious, approaching him slowly. “Heh. Yeah. Bad dream, y’know?” He mumbled, wiping a small tear from his eye.

You frown. You hate seeing him so upset. “What was it about?”

He sighs, dragging a hand through his hair, “Jus’ the usual, heh. Val.” He says, his voice wavering through his name.

You wrap your arms around him from behind, your head cuddling into his shoulder, “I’ll always be here and love you no matter what, no matter what that prick does to you. I’ll be right here.”

Alastor

You don’t know what was up with you tonight, but you just couldn’t fall asleep, you sat on the other side of the bed, scrolling on your phone, your boyfriend wasn’t much of a cuddler on a regular basis.

But you could feel the shift in energy when his eyes shot open and his body tensed, “Sweetie? Are you okay?”

Alastor combed a hand through his fluffed hair, a smile plastered on his face, giving a small nod, static getting more and more noticeable. “Yes, my love.”

“Bad nightmare?” You asked, Al nodded, “What was it abo-”

“That is for me to know, and don’t you worry you’re pretty little head about it!” Alastor chirped, despite the fact that he’s your partner, sometimes he still feels the need to put on an act.

You placed your hand on top of his, “Well, I’m here if you wanna talk about it.” Alastor tensed up at first, but slowly soothed into the warmth of your love and support.

Husk

It was still dark out when you had woke up, and you noticed Husk was no longer in your arms, you turned to the side to see your lover tossing and turning in the sheets, and unpleasant expression on his sleeping face.

“Husk?” You murmured, shaking him softly. “Husk, baby, wake up.” You shook him again, the pain on his face from whatever dream he was having made you heart tear.

After a few moments of shaking, Husk awoke from his nightmare, sitting up, shaking his head slightly.

“Baby…” You murmured, you’d never seen him like this, “Are you good?”

Husk sighs. “Yeah… Just a shitty dream.” You frown. “Wanna talk about it? I can make some tea, too.”

A smile finds itself on Husks face, “Yeah.. I’d like that.”

Lucifer

“Honey.. Psst… Uhm.. Hi? Wake up, please.. I really need you right now.” You felt your husband shake your shoulder, as he whispered in your ear, “Luci, I’m not in the mood-”

You turned over to look at him, as your husband looked at you, tears pricking in his eyes, his lip trembling as he shook his head. “Not like that... Bad dream..”

“Aww, come here.” You pulled your husband into your arms, no matter how long you were married to him, or how childish others may think it was, you let him cry into your shoulder as you rocked him softly.

“I’m here to listen.” You pecked his cheek. “I love you.”

Vox

You woke up from the noise coming from your boyfriends screen, you look up from his chest, to see a dream playing on his screen, and it’s clearly not a good one.

Tiredly, you trickle to the other side of the bed, unplugging one of his cords, and pressing a few buttons on the back of his head, causing him to awaken.

Vox turns his hands down his screen, groaning, “Fuck… You saw all that?”

You chuckle “Always do.” You smirk at him, although it softens as you put your hand on his back, “Wanna talk about it?”

“In the morning…” Vox says tiredly, before pulling you back to his chest, pecking your forehead, quickly drifting off once more.

[sarahreesbrennan]

Goodbye, September!

Being Barnes & Noble’s SFF Book of the Month meant getting to sign piles of books wherever I went, having LONG LIVE EVIL in windows, seeing cool displays and my fabulous poster, having a wonderful event with the lovely Rachel Gillig, seeing other books on my Evil Table - it was especially thrilling when I saw books that were inspirations for LONG LIVE EVIL (shouted out in my acknowledgments!) like Scott Lynch’s Lies of Locke Lamora, anything Leigh Bardugo, Spinning Silver and THE PRINCESS BRIDE ON MY TABLE DO YOU SEE IT.

I’m mostly a text girl on my tumblr, but it was a wonderful time. Overwhelming (I was a slug with the amnesia for a week there) but wonderful. I was really sure, after cancer and losing many professional friends and contacts and after people in publishing TOLD me I was done, that I was done. I am so grateful to see Evil being embraced, to my publisher and my readers for giving me a chance. Publishing is a strange game, and it’s early days yet. This could all fall through. Sometimes you go into strange worlds for one brief adventure and sometimes they become home. But I want to be very joyful, even if just for a moment.

(Also yes I stole a book trolley and ran around B&N Union Square. That’s not important at this time.)

LONG LIVE EVIL has been on US bestseller lists for 4 weeks.

Farewell, September. Farewell, Evil Tables. You were a hell of a birthday month. I’ll miss you. I’m happy you happened.