#i would make him dinner and let him berate me for letting it go cold while he played with his toys here even though

[blakeswritingimagines]

Dating Yandere Ghostface Would Include:

He's very good at stalking. He can wait in the shadows until he sees you in public, he can find your address, and he can do all sorts of things to make sure you’re together, even when you don’t know it. He is also very good at manipulating people. He’d get you to break out of your shell and do things that would feel more natural around him, letting him get closer. He’d be obsessive and possessive, and he wouldn’t let anyone else near you because you’re his.

He'd also be very protective of you like you're a prized possession. He would want to be your whole world and make sure no one or anything else got in the way of your love for him.

He'd be jealous of any friends you have, or family because they get your attention and time that you could be spending with him. He'd start off being sweet and charming and slowly turn possessive and obsessive.

He'd probably follow you around whenever you go out just so he can see who you're hanging out with. He'd question you a lot and want to know everything about your life. He won't let you have any secrets.

He’d probably be a lot more subtle in front of other people. He’d be the kind to make small remarks and throw insults that only you’d understand. In public, he might go as far as casually putting an arm around you or brushing a loose strand of hair out of your face, just to let everyone know you’re his.

He'd be very big on giving you reassurance. He'd remind you all the time how much he loves you and how important you are to him, just to make sure you never forget who he is and why you’re together. He'd probably say things like "You just don't know how much you mean to me" or "You're the only thing in this world that makes sense."

He would only need reassurance if there was any reason for him to believe you didn’t want him anymore. He very much has the mindset of “it’s me or no one”, so if you were to show any signs of wanting to leave or be with someone else, he would get very aggressive about it. Otherwise, he’d be extremely confident and smug. I hope you like clingy.

He’s really big on rewards. If you do something he likes, he’ll make sure to give you something. Whether it be jewelry, clothes, food, or anything you want really, you’d get it. The bigger the gesture, the more he likes what you did.

He’d be pretty strict on the punishments. If you lie, go out without telling him, talk about other people, or do any of the things he’s told you not to, he’d make sure you knew how angry he was. It’d probably range from him being cold and quiet for hours to full-on berating you.

He doesn’t like having any kind of arguments. He will have very strong opinions about how things should be, and if you disagree with them he’ll snap. He’ll get very hostile and start yelling, telling you that you were made for him and that you’d do well not to forget that. If you argue back, he’d probably pin you up against a wall or something.

He’s a big fan of PDAs. He’ll go out of his way to show you and other people that you’re his property; he’ll be grabbing you by your waist and pulling you close, leaning over you, holding your hand, all sorts of things. In private, he’d shower you with all kinds of affection. He’d want to be on you at all times, cuddling or holding you as often as possible.

That’ll depend on how you like to be treated. For him, he’d want to do big gestures like big surprise gifts and expensive dinners, if you’re into that sort of thing. He’d want to take you to places that you’d enjoy, but only the things that he approves of, because god forbid you find any joy without him being your source. He’d want to be constantly holding your hand and being all over you, just again to make sure people know you’re his.

He’d probably start asking questions. Asking “Why” and “What did I do?” to make you want to break up with him. If that got him nowhere, he’d probably start trying to make you change your mind, throwing his love in your face, telling you he did everything for you, and stuff like that. He’d start getting more and more desperate and upset the longer you insist that you are breaking up.

It wouldn't probably take a lot to get him to kill for his darling. Like it’d have to be a bad situation, like another person trying to hurt or take them away from him. If that were the case, he wouldn’t think twice about killing anyone who got in his way.

He’d have a whole shrine set up, like a creepy one. He’d have a picture of you at the center and it’d be surrounded by things from your relationship. Gifts you gave him, things that remind him of you. Maybe a strand of your hair or some of your jewelry. He’d probably visit it every day and reminisce and be all sappy about you, maybe talk to the shrine-like he’s talking to you.

He’d want it more than anything. He’d plan an elaborate, big wedding, something that’s just grand and he could show how much he loves you. He’d definitely be a traditionalist, he’d want the white wedding dress and a big bouquet toss and all of the cliche stuff. And if you even for a second question any of his decisions for the wedding plans, he’d get really huffy, because it’s his wedding and he gets to call the shots.

He’d definitely be all in on kids. And by that, I mean all in on having you carry the kids and do the majority of taking care of them. He’d think that it would solidify the bond you guys have, that now you’re connected for life, and that a child is your legacy together, and that it would be something no one else could have. You better like baby talk, because that’ll be a thing, too.

That would put a real damper on things. He’ll be incredibly upset that you’re rejecting giving him children because he wants to be a “father”. He’s got that whole mindset of “leaving a legacy” behind, and this would feel like your rejection of him. If you couldn’t have children, he’d probably get really angry and throw it in your face that because you can’t have his kids, you’re only “half of a woman”, in his own words.

“You’re mine. All my mine. Nothing and no one can replace you, do you understand that? You were made to be mine. You belong to me. You’re never ever leaving me. You can try all you want, but you’ll never be able to get rid of me. We’re bonded now, I’ve made sure of it. We’re all we need. You don’t need anyone but me, and I don’t need anything in the world if I can have you.”

Messy scenes - The more mess involved during sex, the better. Cum on faces, bodies covered in sweat and fluids, or even accidental spills all contribute to a chaotic, raw, and utterly filthy experience that he craves.

Impact play - Spanking, flogging, or using toys like paddles and whips to inflict pain or pleasure (or both) is a major turn-on for him. The sting, the marks left behind, and the release it provides are all part of the appeal.

Multiple orgasms - Witnessing you reach climax multiple times is incredibly erotic for him. It's a testament to your endurance and resilience, which only makes him want you more.

The chase - Pursuing someone who's reluctant or hesitant only fuels his desire further. The struggle to win you over sexually is thrilling and satisfying.

Humiliation - In certain contexts, being humiliated or degraded verbally can actually enhance his arousal and lead to more intense orgasms.

Roleplay - Roleplaying dark, edgy scenes involving themes like captivity, non-consent, or extreme dominance/submission really turns him on. Even if it's just pretend, the intensity of these fantasies is a significant part of his erotic imagination.

[hawkinsbnbg]

caged bird (love-trap)

Written for ‘fool’ | word count: 454 | rated: M | tags: omegaverse, possessive behavior, mating bite, mildly dub-con on the unplanned pregnancy part | ao3 link | @steddiemicrofic

It didn't mean anything, Steve told himself.

Sure, he spent his heats with Eddie all the time, built his nest with Eddie's clothes, lived under Eddie's roof, and well, fell in love the morning Eddie made him breakfast.

Steve was a fool.

Because Eddie had told him point blank when they first met that the alpha didn't do relationships, much less want a serious one.

Even when they had been waking up in the same bed for years, it still didn't mean anything.

Heartbreak was an old friend, one that Steve wished he never met but still welcomed anyway. And loving Eddie was a bittersweet thing that he couldn't seem to give up.

Every moment Eddie looked at him, smiled at him, and touched him, his heart would break a little, knowing none of that would ever be his.

Even a fool would learn his own lesson, but Steve never did.

He let himself be swept away in the warmth and protection Eddie provided him, and then, he would berate himself for falling too fast and caring too much.

It was pointless, however, when he kept letting Eddie claim him in every sense of the world but the right way.

Steve stared at the positive pregnancy test in his hand and trembled. Tears welled up in his eyes as he tried to think up something to make the cold dread go away.

His first thought was that he would have to leave Eddie to keep the new life inside him. And didn't that sound depressing?

But Steve considered it anyway because he loved his pup more than anything. And since he always listened to his stupid heart, he intended to do so again.

“Let's end this,” he said bluntly once they were done with dinner.

“End what?” Eddie raised an eyebrow at him.

“End this,” Steve gestured between them vaguely. “Whatever that’s been going on here.”

“No.”

Steve was taken aback at the alpha’s stormy face and flat tone.

“No? What do you mean No?”

Eddie stood up and rounded the table to cage him in his chair. Eyes dark and scent thickened, the man leaned down to whisper into his ear.

“It means you're not gonna leave me after I put a pup inside you.”

Steve’s breath hitched in astonishment. “You knew?”

“I planned it,” Eddie said calmly while holding his gaze. “Remember this: You're mine, now and forever.”

“But you don't do relationships–”

“But I do want a family,” Eddie stroked his cheek tenderly. “And I want it with you.”

Steve bit his lip until he tasted blood. This was foolish. He shouldn't–

“Put the bite on me.”

Smiling, Eddie leaned in to nose at his bonding gland.

And then bit down.

[butter-scotch-milk]

Stone x Scrap!reader headcannons

I know I said I wasn't doing any more fanfics but I just had to do Ramshackle since it has me in a chokehold rn 😭

Enjoy 😊

Stone is protective to his S/o. Can't change my mind. He would do anything in his power to keep you safe. Hurt or getting fixed up during a fight? He protect. Going out at night to look (steal) for dinner? He be standing in the shadows or walk with you. He ain't loosing his S/o.

He's very touch-starved but also not at the same time yk? Like he would give you hugs from behind from time to time when no one is watching. He also like when you hug him as well. But when there's people or when he doesn't want one, he won't let you hug him or vise versa. This also goes for cuddles and kisses.

He would NEVER hurt you in any way. (Hit, berate, ect.) He just doesn't want to hurt someone he loves. He would raise his voice at you if ya don't listen to him. But that's a rare sight to see. But don't worry, he still loves you ❤️.

FEEDS YOU FIRST BEFORE HIMSELF. HE WILL STARVE HIMSELF AND GIVE UP HIS FOOD TO YOU. CANT CHANGE MY MIND. But srs, don't let him starve. Poor boy is skinny to begin with.

YOUR PERSONAL HEATER. He's definitely someone who's warm all the time. When you get cold at night or lat evening, he WILL let you cuddle him. Even if the other two are there.

I feel like kisses will be a rare thing but it does happen. He will kiss ya when their alone but other than that ya ain't getting anymore kisses.

ABSOLUTELY LOSSES IT WHEN YOU PRAISE HIM (sfw) OR WHEN YOU JUST SHOW HIM AFFECTION OUT OF NOWHERE. TRUST ME.

I'll probably make more Ramshackle x reader fics. Anyways- Skipp is next!

[ladytesla]

Cowboy Halsin

I saw @aerynwrites musing about how Halsin would be as a cowboy or rancher. I thought I'd throw in my two cents, since I live on a farm myself.

There's more to it than just seeing Halsin speaking softly to horses, as awesome a sight as that would be. There's more to living out in the country than horses, believe me. This kind of morphed into Country Halsin and not Cowboy Halsin, but I hope y'all like it anyway. Let's go through a day in the life, shall we?

Halsin would probably be up before dawn, kissing your cheek before getting out of bed as carefully as possible, trying not to wake you. You have your own goals to accomplish today, he wants to let you wake up on your own.

Besides, he loves the stillness just before the sun rises. The nocturnal creatures are seeking their nests and burrows, the diurnal ones have yet to wake. This solitary commune with nature is one of the highlights of his day, listening to the wind in the leaves, the crickets and the frogs. It is a very referent time of morning that seems to stretch for ages and at the same time end far too soon.

As he reaches the barn, the day officially begins. Animals need to be fed. Mostly they graze in the pasture, but some need special treatment. An old swaybacked mare needs a little something extra to keep her weight up. Maybe there's a colt who managed to hurt himself somehow, and the wound needs to be tended to. Maybe it's cold outside, so he throws out alfalfa with the hay. Alfalfa is also called 'hot hay' because it raises an animal's body temperature, which is a great trick for winter.

He speaks to the horses as he works, maybe fondly berating the colt for being so clumsy in his excitement, or encouraging the mare to eat everything he's set out for her, smoothing a large hand down her side and smiling to himself when he feels her ribs much more faintly than he used to. One of the horses who is usually waiting in the mornings isn't there... that's a bit odd. He'll turn up eventually. The chickens milling around outside have heard his voice and know The One Who Feeds Them has arrived, so they peek around and wander into the barn themselves, waiting very impatiently. The goats in another small paddock nearby are just as impatient. They start yelling and bleating as if they're starving to death and He Is A Cruel And Unjust Father And They Are Going To Scream.

He likes hearing the chickens chatter as he scatters out feed for them. They don't have anything of real importance to say, but they never stop talking. Mostly it's "Food! Food! Food! Bug? Food! Scratch. Peck. Scratch. Bug!" in a dozen warbling little voices. He brought a bag of veggie scraps from last night's dinner with him to throw to the goats, which stops them yelling. "I don't think the neighbors heard you yet," he would say dryly as he throws hay to them as well. Sometimes they headbutt each other for access to the best morsels, and while he wants to prevent this to keep anyone from getting injured, he knows it's in their nature. He keeps an eye on the smallest and oldest, however, making sure they get their fair share. The twin kids born last week toddle after their mother like baby ducks. It seems like she has enough milk for both of them, though he still has powdered formula and bottles from the last kidding season, just in case they're needed once more.

Now that everyone's been fed, it's time to walk the fences, looking for that missing horse in the process. A lesser known but very important job when it comes to country life. Any breaks could not only let animals out, but predators in. He'd keep an eye out for signs of predators nearby. He hasn't seen any today, but he heard coyotes crying out in the darkness the night before. By this time of morning, though, he has company. You've made your appearance, bleary-eyed and handing him an insulated cup of coffee. You're already on your second.

The fog from earlier hasn't been burned off completely by the sun yet. It's a quiet time for the two of you to walk the property lines together. Halsin is a bit concerned about that horse. He hasn't shown up yet. Soon, though, he sees a silhouette in the last bits of fog, and sighs with relief. The horse isn't lying down from illness, he's just... trapped. The two of you look at this big strong chestnut gelding, eyes rolling and sides heaving, barricaded in the corner of the pasture because... there's a rabbit in the way. A fat little gray-brown bunny, nibbling delicately at the grass without a care in the world. Truly a terrifying sight to behold.

"Arthur we've spoken about this," Halsin sighs as he walks closer to the horse. "Rabbits can't hurt you. They eat plants, and they're tiny. Look!"

Still, Arthur isn't convinced. Halsin soothes him, stroking his nose and smiling to himself at the absurdity of it.

"My heart," he glances to you, "please convince our visitor to release Arthur."

You smile as you shuffle closer to the rabbit, gently shooing it back through the fence. Now that Arthur is out of mortal peril, he happily walks off towards the barn.

"They're majestic creatures," Halsin admits, "but sometimes..." He shakes his head, then keeps walking the fence. "Come on, my love... we're only halfway."

~~~

A round bale is delivered around lunchtime. The thing is as tall as you and just as wide and weighs an ungodly amount. But it needs to go out into the pasture somehow. Moving a round bale is a two-person job. Your job is to hold the gate open and keep the curious horses at bay... and to watch as Halsin, sleeves rolled up and muscles bulging, easily rolls it into the paddock as though it weighs nothing. He barely has time to set the feeder ring around it before the horses are nosing greedily at the fresh hay.

"I wish I could help more," you say as you close the gate.

"You help plenty," he replies, wiping sweat from his forehead. "Besides..." There's a faint glint of mischief in his eyes. "I've flattered myself into thinking you like to watch."

You grin and say he's being ridiculous, but you both know the truth.

~~~

As active a man as he is, Halsin isn't content to spend the heat of the day indoors. There are still so many things to be done. Bird feeders to fill. Eggs to collect from the chickens. The vegetable garden to water and weed. Water troughs to top up. Finally, there's a little time to take a break. Sometimes you have other things on your schedule, but today you decide to join him. The two of you find a shady spot under a tree and settle in with a book, some whittling, perhaps a snack, and you let yourselves get lost in nature. The afternoon sounds are different from the early morning ones. There are no crickets or frogs, no reverent stillness. Now there are raucous little songbirds fighting over birdseed, the chatter of a squirrel, the crow of the rooster, maybe even the far-off braying of a neighbor's donkey a quarter mile away. The windchimes you hung from the back porch. And underneath it all, the wind humming in the trees. Halsin leans back against the rough bark of the tree, closes his eyes, and feels the undercurrent of life running through all things. You can't help but admire the sheer expression of peace and happiness on his face, and set your little diversions aside to lean your head on his shoulder. His arm instictively wraps around you to pull you closer against him, and you enjoy simply existing as part of nature for a while.

~~~

The sun is about to set, casting mile-long shadows and lighting up the fields like gold. It's nearing time to go inside and help make dinner. But first the old mare and the colt need to be tended to once more. Another helping of special feed for the mare, sequestering her in her stall so that she can eat in peace without a certain someone (whose name may or may not be Arthur} attempting to share. The colt's wound is healing nicely, and Halsin digs in his pocket for a cookie in exchange for the colt standing still enough to be treated. He tosses another cookie to Arthur who protests that he too needs special food because he is a special boy.

He comes inside to clean up and help with dinner. He'll need to go back out in an hour or so to let the mare out of her stall, but in the meantime he's happy to be in your company as you maneuver around each other in the kitchen. If you're cooking, it may be a bit difficult with those big arms around you from behind. The two of you have been busy all day, and now that you're done with your work, he has decided to make things a little difficult.

"Love, please, I need to get to the spice cabinet." "I can reach it just fine. Tell me what you need."

"Halsin, I can't work with you right behind me like this!" "I fail to see how this is a problem, my heart. I'm having a wonderful time."

Halsin is normally a mild-mannered type, but his sense of humor sneaks out in sly ways from time to time. At least he hasn't broken out the horrible puns yet. And you have to admit, it's nice to be able to feel his deep voice resonate against your back.

Halsin is ready to sleep when it's time for bed (as long as you are too, of course. He's always up for 'extracurricular activities' if the mood is right). "We did well today, my heart," he says quietly in the darkness, pulling you close. "Pleasant dreams." He can hear the faint sounds of frogs and crickets outside your window, and that coupled with your soft breathing is enough to lull him into a deep sleep.

Was it a long day full of hard work? Yes.

Would he trade away any of it? Never.

[inklore]

pretty when you cry.

— stepbro!patrick zweig x f!reader

premise: you hate him. hate how messed up the both of you are. can't stand how the two of you have been weened off of spoonfuls of poison force fed to you by your parents and the only antidote you've ever been able to stomach has been each other.

contents: messed up step sibling with benefits dynamic, p in v, plot and backstory heavy a lil, abusive parents, oral, marking, blood mention, dirty talk, degradation, dacryphilia | wc: 1.4k+

note: the demons i have inside of me when i think of this man are absolutely batshit and i should seek help. enjoy!

“What’re you gonna do?” The look on his face is aggravating. Obscene in the way it makes something burn beneath your rib cage and singe its way down between your thighs.

Your eyes ache from your efforts to not let the tears that have gathered at your ducts fall onto your cheeks. To roll down only for him to mock—lick away with the tongue that peaks out from his lips as he smirks. 

“You’re going to cry? Really? I thought you were better than that.” 

“Fuck off.” 

You can see the puff of air that ghosts through the cold night air as he laughs under his breath. Pulling out a cigarette, inhaling twice before it’s lit, and releasing the smoke from his lungs into your face. 

“No more tough girl act, huh?” 

“No more ass kissing for money, huh?” 

This time, his laugh is deeper. The look of arrogance on his face more menacing with the way the street light is beating down on the two of you. 

Family dinner. 

What a fucking joke. 

It barely took five minutes before Patrick was getting into it with his father, and your mother had a mouthful of words to berate you. You hadn’t known why they even invited you, let alone Patrick, to this wannabe Partridge family shitshow. 

Patrick’s father, having washed his hands with his son long ago, finding zero use in someone who wasn’t making him money. 

And your mother barely able to look at you without disappointment written all over her face because she can’t live vicariously through you anymore. The day your athletic career ended, so did her pretending that she actually cared about you.

“Shitty parents build character,” someone once told you. Had patted you on the back and gave you that tight lipped smile people always did when they didn’t want to pity you, but also had no idea what to say to the shit end of the stick you were dealt. 

A smile you’d love more than to smash your fist into. Over and over and over. 

It’s really no surprise the way you and Patrick turned out. No surprise, the two of you have been at each other's throats since day one. Your parents turned the two of you into their own little competitive rivals they could bet against, give love and money to when the other came out on top. When one was knocked down and the other was spitting blood with their fingers curled in the asphalt. 

Which is why it was also no surprise when Patrick found his way into your room one night. No surprise when your face was pushed into your pillow, his mouth at the back of your ear daring you to scream his name loud enough for your parents to hear. 

“Let them know who’s winning, baby.” 

And it’s no surprise how the nightly visits turned into rough encounters in the kitchen with you bent over the counter, your mother within earshot in the other room, or the countless hookups in his father's car. 

If you had good parents, maybe they would have noticed.��

Maybe your mother would have questioned you more about why your knees were all skinned up. And you would have to tell her some lie about tripping during practice when, in reality, Patrick had you on your knees in the gravel, gagging on his cock, before he fucked you against the chain link fence when he visited you at university one night. 

But instead, your mother grabbed a handful of your hair and told you not to lose her money. 

And while, yeah, you did hate Patrick. Have always hated Patrick—maybe even a stronger word that portrays the burning sensation you get in your chest and the urge you have to pick and chew at your own skin, or his—when he’s around.

There’s still a part of you that’s almost grateful that he ruined your tennis career. 

Fucked it up for you only for him to become a waste himself. 

You’ll never tell him that, though. 

Especially not with the sickening look he keeps giving you now. 

The end of his cigarette put out against the brick wall his shoulder leans against. You can smell the nicotine when he steps closer to you. Your nostrils filled with the cheap cologne you hate actually works for him. 

The tip of his nose ghosts against your cheek when he whispers in your ears, “if you want a real reason to cry, just ask, baby.” 

You hate him. 

You hate how causally cruel he can be. How it’s easier for him to bite you in bitterness and animosity than it was for him to pretend he isn’t repulsed by wanting you—just as you are him. 

Except your bites sting and mark up his pride until he’s half way across the country trying to prove himself, if only to make you bite him harder. 

But what you hate most of all is how good it feels. 

How his words make goosebumps prick your bare legs. How when he pulls back to look at you, his mouth centimeters from your parted lips, he’s blurry from the tears that have yet to fall. The tears that your mother caused. Tears that would taste so much sweeter if they were coming from him. 

Because of him. 

Your cheeks stained way too many nights with tears and come from Patrick. 

There’s a silent communication that happens when your scowl wavers and his eyes flash to your mouth. A confirmation not needing words when you feel his fingers run up the side of your thigh, getting just below your skirt before he’s gripping the back of it to pull your thighs apart. The indent of his fingers hard and throbbing when he’s let go and pushed his palm around and up to cup you through your panties. 

The nicotine on his tongue pushing its way through your open mouth as his lips feather yours as he speaks, a hitch of your breath when his index finger runs along the wet patch on your underwear, makes his mouth pull up. 

“God, why are you so fucking pathetic?” The pad of his finger pushes against your clothed clit. Your mouth twitching open in a moan you refuse to let slip out. “I bet you’ve been wet all night, trying not to rub your greedy pussy against your seat in hopes I’d let you have a taste of my cock tonight.” He smirks, “no wonder mommy’s disappointed in you.” 

His mouth finally presses to yours just as the tears left in your eyes fall. When his words make your body collide into his like a moth to the flame that’s going to burn it alive. Kill it. Relieve them of a bitter, shitty life. 

Your underwear is ruined by the time Patrick has it pulled down your thighs. Torn and stretched out, marking bruises and rashes into your skin that remind you of the nights he purposely made your skin bleed just to lick his tongue over it and smirk when your mother yelled at you the next morning for not looking like her perfect show pony. 

Only for the two of you to meet in the hall wet, hard, fucking against the wall that displayed your seemingly perfect family photos. 

Your nails dig into the brick wall. Bring dirt under them and skin the beds of them when you wrap them around Patrick’s hand against your throat. 

The sound of his hips slapping against your ass as he fucks you hard and fast fills the alleyway. The pain of your pussy never having the opportunity to truly accommodate his size—to prepare for it—is exhilarating. Your inner thighs coated in your own slick. Your own shame. Your own pain that Patrick pulls out of you, causes you, eases into you, and adores you for just as much as he hates you for. 

“I hate you.” You choke out, swallow your moan, and hold it in until tears run down your cheeks. 

He groans against your cheek, “yeah? Fuck, say it again. Tell me how much you hate me. How much you hate how you can’t finger this little cunt without thinking of me even after all these years.” You can feel your knees grind against the brick; you know you’ll have scraps. You know you’ll press your finger into them for days, weeks, while they heal, and you think of Patrick. Fuck yourself from how wet the thought of him always makes you. 

Cry into your pillow in pleasure at how much you hate him. Hate yourself. Hate how fucked up the two of you are—how the two of you need this fucked up mess in order to live, breathe, come. 

Fuck, you’ve missed him. 

You clench your eyes shut as a hoarse cry is strangled from your lungs by his hands, cock, mouth against your jaw. 

“No one cries as pretty as you do, baby.” 

[zg0nuwa]

Can i have a little request, where SO GN!reader loves to cook, and every time Leon arrives home, there's a nice and tasty meal. So, in return he tries to cook dinner for them?

I have the thought that he's terrible at cooking, and if he does something it's just... Edible.

Poor leon, juat tries his best to impress their SO :'3

𝐥𝐞𝐨𝐧 𝐬 𝐤𝐞𝐧𝐧𝐞𝐝𝐲 ; “ 𝐜𝐡𝐢𝐧𝐞𝐬𝐞 𝐭𝐚𝐤𝐞-𝐨𝐮𝐭 ”

tbh it’s a 50/50 for me when it comes to leons cooking skills. at the same time i think he sucks ass but on the other hand ( i still strongly believe he’s part italian ) just him cooking his childhood recipes for you because it’s his love language. the struggle is real.

leon s kennedy x gn!reader

warnings ; leons near death experience in the kitchen, medical inaccuracies

usually it was the other way around. leon was the one that you had to wait for for hours or sometimes even days at a time but not this time around. it so happened that the DSO finally let him have his vacation uninterrupted.

so he decided to repay your kindness. with all this free time he started to get restless and frustrated. he was so used to always being somewhere, doing something and living of off this adrenaline rush. leon thought it would be a nice change of pace to try something in the kitchen but he couldn’t have been more wrong.

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

it was nearing 10pm when you finally came back home. for the past week your boss was not going easy on you. in fact it felt as if he was pushing you to your limits.

as you unlocked the front door all you could think about was a nice bath and going to sleep wrapped up in leons arms. you were expecting him to be in the living room watching tv but instead you could smell something burning in your kitchen.

before you could process what was going on you heard a loud thud and a string of curses coming from leon. it ripped you away from your train of thoughts and you quickly walked towards the entrance to your kitchen.

the sight in front of you was amusing. leon holding his hand under a stream of cold water, a pan of what you suppose used to be tomato sauce that was now all over the floor and cabinets.

“ lee, honey, what happened here? ” you asked as you slowly walked up to him trying to maneuver your way without walking into splashes of still hot sauce.

“ i burned myself on the handle of the pan and well, the rest i think you can figure out yourself. ” you couldn’t stop the chuckle that escaped your lips at his beat up expression. to think that a top tier government agent had struggled with the task of making dinner was hilarious. of course you would never berate him for that or make him fell bad about it but the situation was just amusing.

“ it’s not funny. ”

“ i’m sorry, i’m sorry… but it is a little bit funny. ” you turned off the water and inspected the burn on his hand. it wasn’t bad but you could already see the bubbles slowly forming and as you slightly pressed around the mark left by the handle he hissed.

“ okay, keep your hand under the cold water. i’ll go grab something to soothe the burn and we’ll clean up the mess. ”

⋆｡ﾟ☁︎｡⋆｡ ﾟ☾ ﾟ｡⋆

in the end you ordered some chinese take out from the only place still open at this hour. it wasn’t some fancy dinner but right now you could eat a horse with the hooves so it didn’t matter.

leon unfortunately was still grumpy about the whole ordeal. even more so that the injured his dominant hand and for the life of him couldn’t operate around with the other hand, so you ended up feeding him yourself.

“ come on, don’t be like that. ” you grinned at his dissatisfied face as you held a bite of rice noodles in front of him with your chopsticks.

“ this is fucking embarrassing. ”

[hardlyinteresting]

Can I request an Aaron x f!reader story based on the song “One of Us” by ABBA? Like they’re together but going through a tough time and separate. They get back together in the end tho 😊 Completely up to you if you wanna write it!

PS I love your Aaron stories, you write him so well hehe

One of Us

I am so so sorry this took so long. I am also so sorry to Aaron Hotchner because he is in a constant state of sleep deprivation in all of our fics.

Warnings: none that I'm aware of As always Request here! | Masterlist

Each decision he’s ever made has been made with someone else in mind. After a year of tremendous heartache, and life-altering losses, Aaron had been convinced that a life of simple joys was not in the cards for him. 

His relationship with Haley had been tumultuous towards the end of their marriage, but they had both been young and optimistic in the beginning. He had thought then that marrying his high school sweetheart was the perfect way to rail against his mother's expectations, but in hindsight, he had only met them. 

Despite the reservations his mother harboured about the social status of Haley Brookes's family, a wedding was a surefire way to get her off his back. He loved Haley, just not as he should have or maybe even could have if his life had been a little kinder. 

Her idealism and compassion were admirable but quickly began to clash with the realities of the life they had built together. A life he could not afford to change. Yet, Haley was who paid the ultimate price. It's a debt he knows he cannot repay. 

He had not expected to find another love in his life, and certainly not as soon as he did with you. Right place, right time. it's too good to be true; like a real love he's undeserving of. Worse perhaps, even still, it might be a love he's had too much of already. 

There's a warmth in his chest that refuses to shift when he's around you, it lingers after you leave. New smile eyes form by the corners of his eyes, and he'd hate them if you didn't love them so much. 

You are a beacon of a life that has not been his to live in many years. He thinks about Haley; how it had felt to fill a similar void in his life with simple kindness and gentle joys. History repeats itself in his mind's eye and he wonders if this might just be a warning. Maybe it is too soon. Too good to be true. He works too much anyway, he tells himself. 

And so he breaks your heart. And he breaks his own too. 

Half his bed is too cold. His apartment is so silent it's unnerving; he yearns for more than he misses, the sounds of dinner or baked goods being made in the kitchen. Uncontrollable laughter is never heard on the nights he's alone. The warmth he carried in his chest started to ache. 

He knows he's made the wrong choice, and berates himself for it as he stares up at the ceiling every night. He curses himself for thinking he deserves a second chance to make it up to you.

The knock at the door in the middle of the night should startle him. The sudden interruption would usually have him reaching to unlock his gun safe before heading to the door, but something about the hesitant knock, knock, knocking is too familiar. He pads slowly to his door, unlocking it without hesitation. You’re a sight for sore eyes, the very picture of everything he’s been missing the last few weeks. Like himself you stood in the doorway pyjama clad, and weary with a lack of sleep. Your name is a whisper on his lips, some kind of prayer, a near-silent plea. “you need to let me in, Aaron,” You tell him.

He knows you don't just mean into the apartment as your hand reaches, resting on his chest right above his pounding heart. “I know,” he says, “I will”.

[worstghost]

When they have feelings for you (f!reader, sorry guys u_u)

(Soap, Ghost, König, Alejandro)

Soap

♡He would try to ignore it, push it away as long as he could. You two were teammates, partners in crime, best friends even. He knows there's nothing more that a woman hates than thinking she had a friend only to find out they had unrequited feelings.

♡Soap would do everything he could to pretend, make sure you're not uncomfortable. You would continue as normal, joking and drinking together on your time off, sparring as you usually do. You would accuse him of taking it easy on you, and he'd defend himself, swearing up and down that you two are simply matched in strength. He couldn't even fathom the thought of actually hurting you.

♡He's so lovesick it hurts, it seems that everyone notices except you. It all comes to a head one night at the base, it's your turn to cook dinner for the team.

You bustle around the kitchen, hair pulled back out of your face, three different pots on the stove. He notices the slight sheen of sweat across your brow, the way you bite your lip in anticipation, 'this is taking so long to boil', you're frustrated. You throw the oven mitts on to the counter and move back to chopping onions.

His heart is beating so fast he's sure you can hear it. It's so sickenly sweet, so fucking domestic. He fools himself for a moment, imagining that you're his wife, in his home, cooking him dinner. You'd have him test the sauce to make sure it's sweet enough, he'd wrap his arms around your waist and assure you everything looks beautiful and you're doing amazing and fuck-

He's so in love with you. He doesn't know how to hide it anymore, not when you look over the counter to him and stick your tongue out teasingly. He's fucked.

Ghost

♡You would have thought he detested you, truthfully. He doesn't speak, rarely makes eye contact. He's rough with his commands, and he always expects the most from you. You figure it's because you're new, your Lieutenant is simply testing you, making you prove yourself. You swear you had proven yourself already though.

♡The team assures you he doesn't dislike any of you, he's hard on all of them. It's in his nature. He knows what they're capable of and won't accept anything less. You believe that he can't see what you're capable of, that he doesn't trust you enough.

♡It turns into an argument one day, when you two are alone in a hallway on base. He had pulled you aside to berate you about a mistake you'd made this past mission.

He had you cornered in the cramped hall, looming over you. "Explain to me what you were thinking back there." It wasn't any sort of question, it was a command.

Oh great, nows the time he wants to make eye contact.

"I don't think you made the right call." You muttered, turning your head away.

Ghost leaned in closer and asked you to repeat yourself. He valued honesty, but he couldn't let this go. You had disobeyed him, rushed a building he told you to stay out of. Although the mission was successful, he couldn't lose control of his team.

"I don't think you made the right call!" You raised your voice, stepping closer to him. You held searing eye contact, encouraged by the vague shock on his limited expression. "I had it, I knew what I was doing. You want me to trust you, then trust me!"

Ghost sucked in a breath, standing up straight. He valued honesty, but he loved self assurance. You were confident in your decision and it struck something in him. It wasn't losing control of his team, it was trusting them.

It was trusting you.

Alejandro

♡He loved your attitude, cold, blunt, sarcastic. You were always entertaining to talk to, even when you were snapping at him. He loved to tease you, to push your buttons. It was a little game between you to see who could be the most frustrating.

♡Banter, teasing, talking over one another. You two worked together seamlessly, always quick and efficient. But that's all it was, work.

♡Until you have downtime between jobs, you and 141 travel with him across the little villages between your temporary bases. You bother him to stop so you can eat something, he huffs and pulls across from a fruit stand.

You hop out after asking the boys if they had wanted anything, and approach the older man selling what you can only guess is food he's grown himself. You greet him and begin picking through.

You can see over the stand two children peeking up at you, giggling. Smiling wide, you ask them if they helped their papa work.

Alejandro watches from the window intently. This is a new side to you, he'd never seen you smile so much. His heart leaps when you kneel down, presumably having the children approve what you're buying.

The terrible thought of you being a mother seeps into his mind, his heart skips a beat. What would you look like every day, in your civilian clothes, possibly glowing with pregnancy. He's almost embarrassed to be thinking this about you.

Something he wants but could never have. He wonders if you ever wanted the same thing.

König

♡He's completely obsessed with you. Will watch you from a distance but look away the second you glance at him. He notices the small things, the way you lick your lips before you start speaking, the tapping of your fingers on your thigh.

♡He feels silly to call it a crush, but that's truly it. He's barely spoken to you but he's so enamored. Once after a mission you pat his back and mutter 'Did good, big guy' and he almost faints.

♡Loves when you do actually talk, how you have to angle your neck to look up at him. Once he swears he sees you blush when he responds and he rides that high for a week. The thought that you could possibly reciprocate makes his heart soar.

♡And you do, and he doesn't know until you try to ask him out.

You and König are the last on base, neither of you bothering to travel home between missions. If you didn't know any better it would seem as if he was avoiding you. You try not to let it hurt your feelings.

When you finally find him in the little kitchen, crouched down and digging through the fridge, you clear your throat in an attempt to not scare him.

It doesn't work. He jumps, knocking the shelf out completely, sending containers of leftover food tumbling out.

"Fuck, König, I'm sorry!" You apologize profusely, meeting him on the ground to pick it up. "I was trying to make noise so I didn't surprise you."

He swallows at the sound of you saying his name, and shrugs it off, putting everything back where it was.

Now you're embarrassed, and asking him to go out with you sounds silly. You stand awkwardly, looking up at him, trying to force the words out of your mouth. Finally-

"Would you, if you're not busy of course, care to go out and have a drink with me?" You chew on your lip anxiously, struggling to keep eye contact.

König hesitates and tilts his head. "I don't drink."

Fuck of course. Now you look insensitive.

"O-oh. Right of course. Sorry for asking." That must be his kind way of turning you down.

Before you can turn and walk away completely, König surprises the both of you by speaking.

"But I'll cook, if you'd like. I don't much care for going out."

You try to hide your grin, relief washing over you. "I'd really like that."

[zweigsons]

stress relief

childe x fem!reader smut

summary: childe comes home from a hard day at work. you decide to help him out.

warnings: a lot of biting, not beta read at all, i think he might be ooc but i don't think i care ?

a/n: happy birthday mika but considering the holiday and me being 2 months late - merry christmas !

word count: 1708

Childe had come home pissed. The first thing you noticed when he came home was how the door slammed as he walked in.

“Hi, babe! I’m making dinner if you want some,” You said from your place at the stove where you were stirring a pot of pasta.

“No thanks,” He grumbled. He went up to you and gave you a quick kiss on the cheek before storming into his office, and slamming that door, too.

You sighed a little, turning off the heat and pushing the pot to the back burner. Placing the lid over the pasta, you abandoned your attempt at dinner and went to see what was wrong.

You opened the door to see him sitting at his desk, documents splayed all over it. “Ajax,” You said, walking over to him and placing your hands on his shoulders.

He flinched, tensing under your touch. “Hi, honey,” He said, bringing one of your hands down to kiss your palm. There was a certain roughness to his touch, though. More than usual, and it was one only you could detect.

“Rough day?” You asked, bending down and placing your chin on his shoulder.

He let out a dry laugh. “You could say that. Some of the Harbingers just need to remove the massive stick that's up their ass is all,” He said, and he squeezed your palm a little.

“Are they making you do their paperwork again?” You leaned forward to skim your other hand over the documents on the desk.

“Yup. It fucking blows,” He seethed.

You bit your lip and smiled a little. “I have an idea,” You whispered into his ear.

“Hmm, and what’s that? If it’s berating my coworkers to their faces, I think I’ll have to decline,” He mused.

You giggled. “No, no. Not that. I was thinking something a little more, um, physical. A way to take some stress off of you.” You slipped your hand out of his and then pressed both of your hands on his chest, sliding them down slowly.

A small laugh left his lips, “Seriously?”

“Why would I joke about this?” You asked while unbuttoning his shirt to the best of your ability.

A raspy groan left his lips and he nodded a little. “Okay, yeah, good point.”

You kissed his neck and he tilted his head to the side, giving you more room to place kisses. Your teeth scraped over his jugular and he flinched a little, a thrill of excitement going through him.

You pulled away from him and he whined at your absence. He scooted the chair out a bit and you slid into his lap.

He placed his hands on your hips before placing them underneath your shirt. You shivered at his touch, his hands were always cold.

He moved one hand to cup your chin and dragged his thumb over your lips.

You leaned closer to him until your lips eventually met and he smiled against you. His tongue teased at your lips but you kept them sealed.

One of his hands went down and firmly grasped at your ass. The action caused you to gasp a little and he took that opportunity to slip his tongue into your mouth.

You let him, of course. Who were you to deny your boyfriend the taste of you that he really wanted?

He groaned into your mouth as if this were the first time he had been with you like this in a long time. It wasn’t like it had been, the man’s libido was insatiable.

He nipped at your bottom lip, savoring the soft gasps that came from you. He moved to sucking on your neck and you wrapped your arms tight around his neck.

“Ajax,” You groaned, a hand going up into his hair and tugging at it.

He hummed against your skin before biting into your flesh. You flinched a little, the grip on his hair tightening.

He made a satisfied noise, enjoying the slight pain that you were giving him. You slid off of him, much to his dismay, and sank to your knees between his legs.

He seemed less disappointed when he realized what you were doing. You slowly unzipped his pants and he squirmed restlessly.

You giggled a little as you pulled his dick out of his underwear. “Aw, you’re not fully hard yet,” You said with a sigh, stroking his half-hard cock with your hand.

He chuckled a little, running his hand through your hair. You started by licking softly and shortly at his member as he grew to his full length in your hands.

Then you took languid strokes of your tongue on his cock and he hummed, his hand tightening in your hair.

You took him into your mouth and he groaned out a small, “Finally.”

You innocently bat your eyelashes up at him, though you supposed it might’ve been hard to look innocent with a dick in your mouth.

You hollowed your cheeks as you sucked more vigilantly and he moaned, his hand roughly forcing your head down. You choked a little and he wiped spit away from the corner of your mouth.

He continued to move your head, his hand gripping your hair and your eyes watered as his dick ravaged the back of your throat.

“Fuck, that’s good,” He moaned and you felt your heat pulse between your legs at the praise.

He bucked his hips up into your mouth and you choked again. “You’re so good, you feel so good, honey,” He purred, tugging on your hair.

After a couple more minutes of you pleasuring him, his movements became more erratic as he neared his climax. “Oh, God, honey, I’m gonna cum,” He moaned and he brought his hand up, biting into it.

With a few more thrusts into your throat, his seed spilled into your mouth. You pulled off of him, some of it dripping out of your mouth before you got the chance to swallow.

He stopped biting his hand and let go of your hair. He slipped his hands under your arms and easily swooped you up onto his desk.

“Ajax?” You asked with a grin and a tilt of your head.

“Oh, I’m not done yet,” He said as he hastily slipped you out of your pants and pulled your shirt over your head.

You gasped a little, “Baby, I’m literally sitting on papers for the Fatui.”

“Fuck that. You can cum all over them for all I care,” He said, beginning to kiss your chest. He slipped his hands under your sports bra before taking it all the way off.

He ran his tongue over the hardened peaks of your nipples before taking one of your breasts into his mouth, gently biting at the flesh. You moaned softly, threading your hand into his hair.

He sucked on different places of your chest and you knew that come morning you would be littered with hickies.

His hands moved down and one of your fingers snapped your panties’ waistband against your flesh.

“Ajax!” You gasped and he pulled away from you, chuckling.

“What?” He cooed innocently.

You huffed a little, “You’re kind of a brat.”

He hummed, placing a kiss on your shoulder. “You love me.”

You laughed, “I can’t deny that.”

He carefully took your underwear off of you and his fingers teased your folds. You shivered a little at the small touch and he nibbled on your collarbone.

“You’re so wet,” He teased and you flushed in embarrassment.

“Not my fault you’re so fun to suck off,” You taunted right back.

He ran his tongue over his teeth and suddenly sunk two of his fingers into you.

You gasped, flinching at the sudden entrance. He thrust his fingers in and out of you and you bit down on your lip, stopping yourself from moaning.

He shook his head and mumbled to himself, “Can’t wait, sorry, hon.”

He took his fingers out of you and you whined, disappointed at the absence. He took his dick into his hand and positioned it at the entrance. “I’m gonna be a little rough, is that okay?” He asked, kissing your cheek.

“Mhmm, sounds great,” You said with a soft smile.

“Alright,” He replied, nipping at your collarbone before starting to push himself into you.

You moaned a little, throwing your arms over his shoulders. He suddenly thrust all of his length into you and you practically yelped.

He groaned, placing his hands tightly on your hips. You dug your fingernails into his back and he hissed a little as he sloppily fucked into you.

“Fuck, Ajax!” You moaned sharply.

He hummed softly, “You’re doing so good for me.” His hands moved from your waist to cup your face and he pulled you in for a messy kiss, forcing his tongue into your mouth.

You welcomed the roughness, wrapping your legs around his torso and pulling him tighter into holding you.

He bit your lips and one of his hands moved down to rub roughly at your clit.

You whimpered into him and he switched to sucking on your neck. He sunk his teeth into your flesh and you groaned at the slight pain it brought.

It wasn’t hard for him to push you to your climax. He knew every spot inside of you and on your body to make you feel good.

Your walls fluttered around him and he groaned. “You’re so tight, you feel so good,” He moaned softly and he bit your neck again.

“Ajax,” You moaned again, your nails digging into him once more. You scraped them up his back and his pace sped up as he realized how close you were.

“Are you gonna cum for me?” He asked, his words soft and teasing.

“Fuck you,” You replied as the knot inside your stomach began to unravel.

You cried out his name as you came, your eyes rolling back in your head.

He tensed and his thrusts stopped as he came inside of you with a groan. He pulled out of you and tapped his cock against your folds.

You sighed and laid back, your back arching up off of his desk as you stretched.

“One more time,” He said, already lining himself up again.

“Babe, come on—” You tried to argue but he was already fired again.

It was going to be a long night, you realized.

[whoahoney]

glassy eyes, hazy afternoons pt. 5

Eddie Munson x anxious!stoner!Reader

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 Part 4

Summary: Y/n and Eddie pick up where they left off on Saturday night with another late night rooftop smoke session, complete with stories, shared joints, and mutual pining.

Content Warnings: descriptions/mentions of alcohol/drug abuse, recreational use of drugs, adult language, descriptions/mentions of traumatic childhood memories, fluff, a dashling of angst, mutual pining, descriptions of anxiety and depression, intrusive thoughts, & Eddie’s pervy thoughts

A/N: Thank you all SO much for all the love on my fics this lately, I cannot express to you how every single note makes me feel when I check my phone 🥺 You guys have made me more confident in my writing and I wouldn’t be diving back into this if it weren’t for your uplifting response. 🥹🤍

I hope y’all like a slow burn 😌 I want them to kiss so bad but just you wait 😏 this picks up where part 4 left off! Reader finally remembers to call Chrissy, thank god. Don’t mind me healing my daddy issues through Reader and Johnny, it’s fine.

Also, should I make a playlist for this series? 🧐 let me know!

─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───

Y/n and Johnny decided on lasagna for dinner that evening. The pair stood next to each other as they alternated the uncooked pasta with ricotta and meat sauce. Y/n’s stereo played at a louder volume, Led Zeppelin’s Good Times, Bad Times had both of them swaying to the beat.

Johnny’s usually stoic disposition masked his content smile, though it stretched when he noticed they were dancing in sync, swinging their hips side to side. “You’re alright, kiddo.” He said fondly, his heart swelling with pride looking down at her. Johnny felt the same way about both of his children; his love was no different for either one of them despite their differences, but he had always struggled with expression.

‘I love you’ was hard for him when he was small and lived with his parents, it was still uncomfortable when he met their mother, but when he met them both he couldn't help but only think ‘I love you’

He was convinced he’d never experienced real love until he became a father. Sam made him get himself together and Y/n encouraged him to keep going. Now that he had the both of them almost grown, he still found it hard to express it verbally.

But his kids knew exactly what he meant when he covered them up on cold evenings in front of the television, when he brought home the movies they had been talking about, when Y/n faked sick to get out of school and take mental health days, when his son turned into a shell of himself the day he got his heart broken, his efforts didn’t go unnoticed, not once.

Johnny was there for Sam that night, finding him quietly sobbing in the garage with a bottle of whiskey. Instead of scolding him for the alcohol and berating him for the tears, he held his son and took him to bed with a glass of cold water, sitting with him and talking about everything Sam needed to until he fell asleep.

Y/n hadn’t needed Johnny in a moment of crisis, but she knew she could go to him if she needed to, though she fought the constant internal battle of feeling like a burden. Her dad had held her hand every morning at elementary school drop off, until his kids started riding the bus in middle school— that’s when Sam would give her shoulder a reassuring squeeze before they parted ways in the morning.

From time to time her dad will still reach over and give her hand a squeeze, which she’d return as an ‘I love you too’ whenever the affection occurred.

Y/n and Johnny watched the Dukes of Hazzard as they grazed their plates that rested on the TV trays in the living room. They had all of the windows open, the breeze trickling in and tousling the curtains gently.

She noticed the gradient of blue to pink the sky reflected this evening and ached to get outside. After wiping her mouth with her napkin, she stood from her seat and excused herself for a walk outside. Y/n admired the sky in every state it lived in, though sunsets were in her top two.

She observed how the trees in the distances stretched up to scrape the sky, prickling at the satin sweep. Y/n loved to get high and watch the sun disappear and see day fade to night, which is exactly what she did, high up on a branch along the tree line separating Piney Oak and Forest Hills.

She admired the periwinkle clouds that bounced pink reflections across the endless fields of cotton. She wondered for a moment what it’d feel like to lay on a fluffy cloud and decided it’d probably feel like a water bed or a pool floatie.

Johnny stood at the window and looked out onto the porch, watching how his daughter sat on the step with her hands folded under her chin, content with the view in front of her. He smiled and scrubbed harder at the casserole dish.

Y/n wound up back in her room for the evening, the day subsiding to deep blue outside and her room glowing orange with light. She dug around in her backpack for the slip of paper Chrissy gave her Friday.

She grabbed the yellow rotary phone and set it in front of her on the bed with a clank. It’d been a long time since she’d phoned a friend, let alone a new friend.

‘She’s just gonna ask about Eddie, it’s what girls do.’ Y/n thought.

‘What if she makes fun of me? People in her group seem to dislike him, what if she just wants me to tell her things about him she can use to embarrass him?’

‘Chrissy’s too nice, if anything she’d want to help me work up the nerve to do something about these weird feelings.’

Y/n shook her spiralling head and started dialing the number. It wasn’t long before Chrissy picked up, her cheery “Hello” ringing through the receiver. “Hey, it’s Y/n! Is now a good time?” She asked.

“Y/n! Oh, is it ever! We need to talk about you and Eddie, we’ve gotta make it happen.” She gushed. Y/n rolled her eyes playfully, fidgeting with the chord. “You were telling me about how you guys ended up at your house and then fell asleep?! In your bed?!” Chrissy whispered urgently into the mouthpiece of her pink phone knowing her mother would flip if she knew Chrissy had a friend who’s engaged in such activities.

“Yes, but it wasn’t as crazy as it sounds! We looked at the moon and talked on the roof for a while, and— I don’t know, sometimes we stop talking but it doesn’t feel weird, like I don’t feel the need to fill the air space, and he looks at me like… I don’t know,”

“Like he wants you to do something??”

“Ugh, maybe. I just wish I had the guts to.” She said, reaching over beside her and shoving her bedside window open to light a cigarette before she started a joint.

“So you are willing to admit you like him? Ugh, finally! When you get married please don’t forget to let me make a speech about how I got you two together!”

“Oh yeah, so you can tell my closest friends and family the story of how I hit up the head cheerleader to direct me to the nearest drug dealer that just so happens to theoretically turn out to be my groom? Love it.” Y/n scoffed before exhaling a plume of smoke out the window. The glowing blue lense over the outdoors sank into black, the only lights coming from orange glowing windows or street lights.

Chrissy cackled, “It’s the perfect story. Your kids are gonna love it! And if you have a daughter you gotta name her Chrissy!”

Y/n shook her head , “And If it’s a boy?”

“Easy, Christopher.” Chrissy said with a shrug of her shoulder and laughed with her friend on the other end. “You know… I’ve always thought that friend of his was real cute. What’s his name? Garrett? Jareth?”

“Gareth?!”

“Yes! With the fluffy, pretty hair. Ugh. I catch him looking at me like a lovesick puppy in every class I have with him and it takes everything in me not to wink at him.” She swooned.

“Chrissy!” Y/n hissed in a shocked whisper. “What about Jason?” She asked lowly.

Chrissy sighed, “I’ve known Jason for a really, really long time. Like, our parents grew up together, we’ve grown up together, and it’s like we’ve been expected to end up together since we were kids. And for a while it felt right, I had the biggest crush on him for years. But now Jason is just like his dad, you know? He acts so above everything, and he doesn’t even care about half the things I think or say… I think I’m just a part of some checklist, honestly. But I know one thing for sure and it’s that Jason has never looked at me the way Gareth does.” She sighed dreamily.

��Chrissy, if you’re not happy with Jason, then you should break it off. Other people's emotions aren’t your responsibility! So what if Jason gets butthurt? He has it coming! Maybe it’ll humble him.” Y/n suggested and then took a couple more drags on her cigarette before lighting a joint with the lit end of the cancer stick between her lips.

“True, but I’m more worried about my parents. My mother, specifically.” Chrissy said in a slow and careful whisper, which told Y/n Chrissy didn’t feel safe to speak on her own line as freely as she should. “I gotcha, maybe we can elaborate on that some other time?” Y/n asked carefully.

Chrissy sighed in relief, “That sounds nice! Thank you, Y/n/n. It’s nice to have a friend I don’t have to… hide parts of myself from.” She whispered.

“Me too, Chris.” Y/n smiled, her chest warming. “I feel like you’re gonna be a friend I have for a long time, you know what I mean? When the rest fall away after high school.” Chrissy said.

Y/n’s heart leapt, “Aw, thanks, Chris. I-I think our friendship is gonna be a lasting one too,” She nodded though her friend couldn’t see her and took another drag, “But, if you don’t name your kid after me, we’re history.” She joked, laughing when she heard Chrissy’s cackle over the receiver. “Of course I will! I hope Eddie’s ready for me to infiltrate his life as his best friend's girlfriend and his girlfriend's best friend, or whoever your future husband is.” Chrissy jokes, Y/n giving weak laughter in return while a snap resounded from the backyard through her open window.

She decided to shrug it off, not used to all the animals that roam around here at night quite yet. “Hopefully the future husband is on board with Christopher, or else it isn’t gonna work.”

“Who’s Christopher?” A voice asked from outside. Y/n gasped, raising the phone in her hand and poised to strike when she realized it was none other than the lovable figure of Eddie Munson leaning up against the side of her house with a cigarette between his lips.

“Y/n/n? Y/n! Is everything okay?” Chrissy shouted over the receiver, as Y/n collected her breath and burned red in the face with embarrassment. “Uh, yeah, I, uh forgot Eddie was stopping by, I’ll… talk to you tomorrow, kayloveyoubye.” Y/n quietly rushed out before hanging up the phone and turning her attention to Eddie.

He stood leaning up against the windowsill, his chin resting on his hands patiently. “Did I scare you, sweetheart?” He raised his eyebrows and nodded to the joint in her hand, a silent request for her to pass it to him which she obliged and took his cigarette to puff on in return.

Eddie stepped back to keep the smoke away from the interior of her room, shoving his other hand in his jeans pocket for warmth on the crisp night. “Oh me? Haven’t you noticed my nerves of steel yet, Munson?” She asked.

He smirked as he took another hit from the joint, “So, uh, who’s Christopher— Is it Christopher Lacey from the swim team? Who’s your future husband??” He asked in an eager rush, as if he were excited for her, though really he was bursting to get the question out as soon as he overheard her phone conversation. Y/n’s eyes flashed embarrassment, “No, no, I was—Chrissy told me to name my future kid after her and I told her I hoped my future husband was on board with it.” She shrugged, playing it off as no big deal when inside she was experiencing heart palpitations.

“Oh, well who’s your future husband? Not Christopher Lacey I presume?” He nodded to the joint he held out in front of her lips as she leaned her head further out. Y/n rolled her eyes playfully before closing them as she took a drag. Eddie’s stomach twisted when she went for it without hesitation, his shy girl was getting comfortable with him.

He wanted to know what it was like to run his hand down her neck, only stopping to squeeze his hand around her throat just a little, her neck too delicate for unnecessary roughness. He wanted to slip the straps of her tank top down her shoulders and pull the middle apart so she’d be left bare, but then reminded himself she was an ethereal being and not his to touch or objectify, then he felt icky.

‘Stop, you fucking perv. What are you, 12?’ He scolded.

Y/n inhaled and exhaled, smiling and shaking her head. “Uhh, Matt Dillon? I guess?”

Eddie scoffed and shook his head, “Matt Dillon, are you kidding me? That Neanderthal?!”

“Wha- He’s pretty! He’s so pretty, why do you have to dig at him like that??” Y/n defended with her voice raising an octave and embarrassed laughter spilling out in between.

“Is it cause of the Outsiders? Nah, cause if it was, you would’ve picked Rob Lowe… surely..” He trailed off as though he were thinking aloud, biting his thumbnail in contemplation as realization struck, “Of course you picked Matt freakin’ Dillon. You like the bad boy, the one everyone says ‘stay away’ from, huh? Tell me, did you bring home a lot of strays growing up?” He asked, amusement dancing behind his eyes as he watched her sit there and puff on the cigarette he brought and giggle madly, shaking her head in her defense with no words to back it up.

“You must think I’m pretty damn good lookin’, huh?” He smiled, his eyes glittering in the way only his could. Y/n bit her lip and shoved the window all the way open and leaned out on her elbows, her cleavage heavily accentuated as she towered over him the way he typically did her.

“What are you doing here?” She asked quietly, excitement exuding from her eyes in the form of a glint. Eddie’s mouth twitched into a smile when she didn’t deny it.

“Well, I was partaking in my nightly smoke, but sadly my view of the sky wasn’t as satisfactory as yours is. Thought maybe we could hang out and look together.” He shrugged, suddenly nervous.

‘Maybe this was a bad idea.’

Y/n grinned and bit her bottom lip, watching him fidget while he waited for her to answer. “I’d love that.” She said simply and took a drag from the joint, feeling the familiar warmth and buzz from the nicotine and herb.

Eddie’s eyes brightened, his normal goofy smile returning to his face. She ducked her head back inside to pull on a hoodie and grab her stoner bag before threading her legs through the window and hopping out. His eyes stayed on her as she moved and flipped her hair back over from where it had fallen over her face.

She’d insisted he go ahead of her up the tree, watching his careful movements and gingham boxers made her smile. When he stepped onto the shingles, he bowed to her with a cocky grin. “Very nice, I give it a ten out of ten for the graceful dismount.” She commended.

Eddie squatted down, readying his hands to catch the bag she held in her hands. Y/n threw the bag up to him, smiling when he caught it with ease and finding her grasp on the tree. “Y’know with skills like those, you should definitely try out for the basketball team.” She teased on her way up to the limb that acted as their bridge.

Eddie scoffed, “Oh yeah, because my true passion lies on the court, sweetheart.” His eyes never left her as she crawled across the limb and stood with a waiting hand, which she accepted. “There you are.” He whispered, lingering too closely to be considered friendly.

“Here I am.” She confirmed, looking from his shining brown eyes to his lips, and feeling his light breath fan across her face. He smiled and pushed some hair behind her ear before turning carefully to sit where they did previously.

“Y’know if I was a basketball player, you’d have to be a cheerleader?” He asked and looked over his shoulder at her for her reaction, still holding her hand. “W-Why?” She stammered, not understanding. “Cause it’s fair!” He shrugged as if that made sense.

“Pfft, I have no business jumping around or shaking pom poms.” She scoffed and set her now burnt out joint back between her lips to relight. Eddie rolled his eyes, the thought in his head unbearable. How he’d love to see her in that uniform, even if it was just for fun.

‘Maybe someday I can see her in Chrissy’s…’

“If I’m on the basketball team, you’re a cheerleader, it just makes sense!” Eddie reasoned and patted the spot next to him. Y/n sat down scooting closer to Eddie. She held out the joint for him to take, though it was too short for him to grasp. Instead he leaned his head over and took a drag, his lips brushing her fingers in a light kiss as he sucked.

The tingles crawled up her arm as he sat there inhaling slowly, her eyes trained on his profile and feeling his fingers take hold of her wrist under the guise of holding her steady, as always.

Eddie pushed her hand back towards herself to take a hit, though she decided against it and stubbed it out on the shingle. “So, you think my view tops yours? Over at Forest Hills?” She asked, nudging his arm with hers and taking the bag from his lap, which made him jump.

“Oh, absolutely.” He said, his eyes trained on his favorite view; his dream girl under the moon.

‘Rhiannon rings like a bell through the night and wouldn’t you love to love her..’

Stevie ran through his head as he looked at the girl lighting up next to him; shielding the small dancing flame from the breeze with her hand, wind swirling around her tresses and carried them gently to and fro. She ran a careful hand to tuck them behind her ears and handed over the new joint.

“Y’know, sometime I’ll have to show you mine—the top of the trailer, I mean. It isn’t as high up as this but it’s still one of my favorite places.” He shrugged and took a hit.

“What are your other favorite places?” She asked, leaning her head over on the brick to look at him. “There’s this spot out by the quarry that’s really nice in the spring and summer months, there’s flowers all around the water, everything’s green, birds are always talking to each other, and there’s this perfect tree…it’s almost magical looking, really.” His eyes projected excitement and wonder as he talked about his special place.

“It does sound magical… D-Do you ever take anyone out there?” She asked, her eyes on the joint between his lips. Eddie caught her glance and handed it back to her. She reached out to take it from him, but not before he could jerk it out of reach. Y/n looked to him with wide eyes, suddenly feeling the last wave of warmth roll over her, her previous tokes catching up to her.

Eddie smiled playfully and held it back out to her closer to her mouth. Y/n looked to Eddie for confirmation and noticed the hungry look returning to his eye as he nodded for her to lean in.

Y/n obliged him, letting her eyes flutter shut as she took a slow drag. Eddie watched the thick hem of lashes that framed her eyes and then traced his gaze down to her puckered lips. He resisted the urge to yank the joint away and crash his lips upon hers and absolutely wreck her quiet demeanor.

But he didn’t. Instead, he admired the way she looked at him when she opened her eyes, smiling around the filter when she noticed how intensely he was admiring her. “I, uh, I haven’t taken anyone out there before, but I think I will soon… if you’d want to see it.” He mumbled nervously. Y/n gasped in intrigue before she exhaled, the excitement draining from her face as the building, fluttery pressure swelled up in her chest and throat.

Eddie knew exactly what was going to happen and couldn’t help but laugh as he watched her eyes get wider than he’d ever seen. As she leaned over to the other side in a hacking fit, he fondly patted her back giggling innocently. “You got it, let it out.” He cooed, deriving joy from the contours of her back he could feel under his hand as he rested it there.

“My bad,” she squeaked as she recovered and wiped her face with her sleeves. “Can’t get off without the cough, right?” She said watching him take another drag. “I’m sorry, what?” Eddie asked in amused disbelief. “What? You’ve never heard that before?” She asked, looking almost offended. Eddie shrugged and shook his head. “Coughing helps you get high, something about your blood and oxygen circulation, makes it happen faster. I dunno, ‘s somethin’ our parents used to joke about. Sam told me what it meant back when we started smoking together, so it’s kind of like one useful thing we learned from her.” She laughed and rolled her puffy pink eyes.

Eddie gave a weak laugh at her dark humor, something he wasn’t unfamiliar with, something he typically enjoyed, but it was then he remembered where they left off in conversation before their evening was interrupted last Saturday.

“I hear that, my old man taught me how to hotwire a car when I was eleven.” he chuckled, bringing the joint to his lips, the nostalgia playing behind his eyes. “You’re shitting me.” Y/n gaped, accepting the joint when he held it out to her. Eddie laughed at her surprise and shook his head, “If you ever lose car keys, let me know, I’ll get her started for ya.” He winked with a shoulder nudge that sent her smiling for him. Y/n scoffed and thanked him, taking a deep drag, her eyes closing for a second. ‘Like a butterfly closing its wings for a moment or two,’ Eddie noted, allowing himself a sinful glance down at her puckered lips and hollow cheeks.

“Our car died on us during an.. impromptu road trip,” he began before he could slip further into madness at her unknowing hands. “W-We walked to this motel off the highway, an-and found an unlocked door. The old man always had his tool bag, which had a lot more than tools in it by the way, but he showed me the needle nose pliers and cutters I needed, how to pry the paneling off, which wires to cut, which ones to cross, you know, father-son bonding things.” He shrugged nonchalantly, earning a laugh from her as she handed the joint back to him and reached out for his cigarette, which he gladly handed to her.

“It was probably one of the only good stories I have about him. And it’s only good cause—“ he stopped himself, noticing he was sliding into the same comfort he’d been chasing since they parted ways Sunday morning. Y/n looked at him with her eyelids heavy, her slightly raised brows told him she was invested in listening, concern laid on her face bare.

“Cause why?” She asked softly, watching his lips to catch the words in case he didn’t say them loud enough. He took a generous drag and sighed his exhale, “Cause he wasn’t… angry. Felt like we were on the same team for a night, you know? Felt like a real son, just for a minute. You know?” He asked, looking at her finally.

Y/n nodded, her heart swelling. “Yeah, yeah I do.” She chewed the inside of her cheek nervously, her mind drifting back to the story she never finished on Saturday, wondering if he’d remembered or cared. “D-Did you have any moments like that with your mom?” He asked, his eyes gentle and softer than before. His hand on her thigh sent a crawling warmth up her body, flushing her neck under the sweatshirt she wore.

Y/n stared at his hand for a minute, trying to decide if she was just feeling more movement than usual due to her high, but she observed as he rubbed small circles on the inside of her leg and waited patiently without knowing he was driving her wild.

“I—not to my knowledge.” She said quietly, trying to slow her fast paced thoughts, feeling guilty for the way she felt while he wanted to share vulnerabilities. Eddie stopped his movements to both her relief and dismay, “Oh,” he said lowly, his mouth agape and eyes hiding too many thoughts to comprehend, though at the very least she knew he was floundering inside.

“It’s okay, though. Maybe there’s a memory somewhere in here I’m not remembering right now.” She shrugged, trying to reassure him. Eddies face lifted a little, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his mouth. “Well if you think of any, let me know. I’d love to hear about them.”

Y/n nodded, laying her hand on his, “I will, I promise.”

“Or anything else that you feel like sharing, good or bad, past or present, whatever’s good for you.” He rushed, his nervousness evident by the tremble in his hand. Y/n flashed him a smile, “Does that have anything to do with the story I didn’t finish last time we were up here?” She asked quietly, leaning toward him a bit to hand him his cigarette back, fighting the urge to put it between his lips for him.

Eddie’s facade melted immediately, only leaving a shy smile. “Ah, you got me.” He shrugged, taking a drag as she nodded, “Only if you want to finish it, don’t feel like you have to. But I can’t say I haven’t been thinking about it.” He revealed, her heart leaping in response. He was thinking about her unfinished story for days.

Y/n nodded reassuring him this time, “I can tell you, it’s not a problem, it can just be kind of embarrassing. The way things were, the story itself, so much of my life.” She rolled her eyes, trying to shake the uncomfortable feeling off her back so she could tell him the story of the last time she saw her mother.

“I didn’t get very far, did I?” She forced a laugh, rubbing her hands on her jeans to dry the moisture that started to prickle at her palms. Eddie’s hand found hers again, the stillness of the air allowed the faint sounds of her stereo to filter up to the roof, where they sat under the moon, Tuesday's Gone by Lynyrd Skynyrd played.

“You mentioned a ‘Tina’?” He asked casually, picking her hand up carefully and placing it in his own, thankful to the marijuana gods for this strain that calmed them so. “Oh, yeah. Her.” She chuckled dryly, keeping her focus on their intertwined hands.

Eddie noticed her breath quicken a bit at the act, a satisfied grin threatened to work its way onto his face though he kept it at bay by nodding at her to continue. “Tina was best friends with my mom. She was insufferably loud, by the way,”

“Tinas can be that way.” He shrugged, easing her back into relaxation, hoping he can use this time to show her how willing he is to listen to her life, how eager he is to comfort her if she needs it. Y/n chuckled and scooted closer to Eddie, her anxiety lifted like shrugging a jacket off your shoulders.

“So, my mom and Tina would sit around and get high all day, and Sam and I, we were in the back room with the other kids— back then that felt fun, does that one count? As one of those good memories? Anyway, we got to eat junk and watch whatever we wanted on tv all day as long as we stayed quiet and in the room… I can still smell the ammonia and cigarettes sometimes…” she trailed off with a sigh, looking to Eddie to see if he cared to hear more of the embarrassingly depressing story of her life. He nodded, his eyes soft and his hand stroking the skin of her palm.

“This time in particular, we climbed over the baby gate and tried to sneak to the bathroom because we hadn’t been checked on in forever. But I was so scared. The adults were always so shitty if we left the room, let alone made any other mistakes… Y’know like kids do,” She chuckled bitterly before continuing, “I couldn’t make it to the bathroom,” her laughter continued as tears formed on her waterline, the memory playing behind her eyes, though her voice didn’t waver. If he weren’t looking at her he would have no idea she was on the verge of tears.

“A guy was passed out inside against the door, and while Sam was trying to shove it open… I couldn’t hold it anymore. The floor was soaked, I was soaked, and Sam was so upset. But he never made me feel bad about it, not once.” She sniffled, Her face not visible because of the curtain of hair that now hung between them. “And I can’t tell you how many spankings he took because he ‘wasn’t watching’ me, as if it was his job! Isn’t that wild?” She asked in a faint half sniffling half giggly haze.

“Then our mom found us cause Sam couldn’t get me to stop crying. She was so pissed.. unbelievably pissed—and embarrassed. That’s something she kept telling me over and over was how much of a baby I was and all that shit.” She rolled her eyes and wiped her face. Eddie kept his eyes trained on her carefully, his tongue poised to intervene and tell her to stop.

“Dad ended up catching her when she tried to get us home and clean us up before he was supposed to get off work. But when no one answered the phone all day he came home early, so, that… sucked.”

Eddie felt like he’d been punched in the gut, seeing her so comfortably numb to her hurt, a weeping callous never healed properly.

“She was trying to convince him he was being crazy and irrational, but he insisted he wanted to talk to me and Sam, so when it came my turn, he asked me how many times I got taken to the bathroom that day and I didn’t know what to say cause the answer was none.” She acted annoyed with herself to Eddie’s dismay, his brow knitting together in disapproval.

“Then he asked if anyone ever hit me over there, and I knew the answer to that one, so I said yes, which my mom overheard and freaked out about, calling me a liar, and a lot of.. other things.” She trailed off, taking the joint from Eddie as he put out the cigarette they shared on a shingle, tossing it off the side of the house.

“They had their fight and got their licks in, then Sam took me to our room and turned some Heart on the Walkman before it got out of hand—full blast I might add. Gave me his headphones and told me ‘Just sit here and stay quiet for a little while, I’ll go find a snack.” She smiled at her brother's kindness.

She took a drag, tear tracks kissing her bottom lashes as she closed her eyes to center herself and savor the bitter taste. “She, uh, turned the whole situation on my dad, in the end. Talked about how he didn’t want to help her even though she was sick, yadayadayada..” she rushed, exhaling the toke fully before continuing. “So she claimed she was taking off to go ‘rest’ and ‘get better’ for a few weeks and then never came back.” She giggled bitterly, the story somehow humorous for her to tell, the ripples of her laughter extending into a full blown fit.

“Like, what the hell, right? Can you believe people actually do this shit?” She breathed, Eddie nodded, a small smile on his lips as he watched her, letting her react any way she needed to. “I-I’m sorry, Y/n. I hope already know this but none of it was your fault—the way she treated you guys.” He said softly, bringing her hand closer to his face and playing with her fingers, nodding assuringly as he spoke.

Y/n’s laughter had fizzled, Eddie’s words being the conclusion. “Y-Yeah. Yeah it wasn’t.” She said, though she knew it wasn’t her fault, she’d never had anyone try to make sure she didn’t believe it was. “Thank you for listening.. I didn’t mean to cry, I don’t know what that was.” She brushed it off.

Eddie brought his hands up to trace her tear stained cheeks, feeling braver the longer he sat with her. He angled her face up to his own, looking down at her with shining brown eyes that made her stomach flip.

“Eddie—“

“Don’t ever..” he said lowly and leaned in close—so close his nose touched her nose and her breath hitched, warmth flooding her core. Eddie's breath fanned across her mouth, her lips opened slightly like they were going to chase after his as if it were the only source of oxygen.

He looked into her eyes earnestly, “—ever, EVER, apologize for crying. Not in front of me, okay? I wanna be the last person you have to worry about impressing.” He whispered, trying to discern whether or not she was moving closer or if he was.

“I—okay. I won’t.” She mumbled, too high to figure out anything else to say the didn’t have to do with the burning desire she felt inside. “I think you’re…” his eyes searched the sky for the right word, second guessing whether or not now was the right time to do all of this.

“Everything.” He decided. The word shot right through her chest, the bricked layers of her heart shattering like dropped ceramic. “Everything?” She almost whimpered, looking for his eyes and holding his hand on her cheek. Eddie smiled and nodded, “Absolutely everything, sweetheart. The only person I can pour my soul out to and be unafraid. The only person I like sharing weed with. Hell, you’re the only person I wanna hang out with anymore.” He revealed, trailing his fingers down to her jaw that he traced with his thumb.

“I feel some pretty deep things for you, Y/n, I don’t know if that makes sense right now, but I do.” He said, his hands falling to his sides as his brown eyes bore into her. Y/n’s hand bravely grabbed his, putting it back next to her face. “I think you’re everything too, Eddie.” She managed in a whisper, leaning into his touch as he stroked her cheeks with more purpose, burying the rest of his hands in her hair.

She felt as though they were floating, as if time had stopped and they’d been transported back into their own little world again. Eddie’s breath caught, his lips parting in surprise. He resisted the urge to crash his lips against hers, and instead leaned forward slowly.

Y/n’s heavy lidded eyes watched his lips carefully, finally feeling brave enough to stand her ground as he began to pull her to him. Her body lit ablaze as she let herself melt into him.

“Y/n! Kiddo, you up there?” Her father called from her bedroom window, their eyes shooting open and bodies separating as if Johnny were already on the roof. “Uh, yeah! Just a sec.” She called.

“I-I, I’ll be right back, Sam probably called or something, I’m so sorry—“

“Don’t worry about it, I’ll be right here.” He whispered close to her face and held her wrist gently, giving her a reassuring squeeze as she turned to climb down.

Y/n’s heart hammered in her ears with each step down from the tree trunk, though she knew her old man didn’t suspect anything. “Hey, kid.” Her dad sat with a cigarette burning on the ashtray that rests on her windowsill. “Hey..” She approached the window, leaning against the house like Eddie had been not long ago.

“Just, uh wanted to say goodnight. I know I don’t always do that, so I thought I would tonight. Sooo… goodnight.” He nodded as though he was trying to remember a line and did with success. “Good night.” She nodded back, unsure if that was the end of the conversation or if he expected her to crawl through the window again. Instead Johnny smiled at her and stood up from the bed, taking the cigarette with him.

“Don’t stay out there too long, it’s getting colder at night time. The stars and the pot will still be here tomorrow.” He said before closing her door behind him. Y/n gaped at him, shouting a flustered, “Okay! No problem!” She backed up, noticing a head of curls perched just above her window, a satisfied Eddie smiling with a joint ready to be lit between his lips.

“Looks like we got the answer to our question.” He mumbled around the filter as Y/n laughed, thinking back to their conversation from earlier. “You, uh, wanna burn one more out so I can look at the stars longer or do you need to get to sleep?” Eddie asked as she climbed up the tree to be with him. “Well how could I say no to that?” She sighed contently, walking over to take her previous seat next to him.

When Eddie saw her figure up against the starry night sky he couldn’t help but think about her being his favorite star of them all as if she came from them and not this earthly plane.

She smiled at him, noticing his thousand yard stare and just chalking it up to his high sending him into a daze. “What are you thinking about?” She asked bravely. Eddie’s ears perked at her confidence and smiled. “Jus’ the stars.” He shrugged. Y/n snickered at his blushing cheeks. Eddie sparked the joint up and handed it over to Y/n, letting her have the first real drag.

Y/n took a slow and strong pull, hoping to cough enough she’d feel a tad bit more comfortable. She inhaled it through her nose, the thick cloud slithering out of her mouth and through her nostril, “Damn, okay.” Eddie said with an amused smile as she took a deep breath and broke into her coughing fit while he lit a cigarette. Once again he saw the opportunity to pat her back and comfort her. “You’re very brave, I admire you for that. I throw up if I cough too hard. But here you are, iron stomach and steel nerves and all. Are you a fuckin’ robot? Who are you really?” He rambled, the warm and fuzzy high mixed with love washed over him from head to toe.

Y/n’s coughs were interrupted with laughter, her lungs starved of oxygen, “Oh god..shut up—can’t breathe.” She managed through the laughter and focused on controlling her breath. “If I’m a robot, what are you?” She asked once she regained composure. “Easy, a clumsy hobbit and a raccoon in a trench coat.” He fired back with a smile. “A clumsy hobbit and a raccoon in a trench coat?? You’re not even wearing a trench coat, I’ve never even seen you wearing a trench coat.”

Eddie took a drag and shrugged, “Guess we’re just that good aren’t we?” He high-fived himself as Y/n broke into hysterics, causing him to break with her.

“Ah shit, you’re lookin’ a little blue, babe.” He chuckled, the pet name sending warm and fuzzy feelings to both her heart and her core, which made her shift in her spot uncomfortably as she forced out another chuckle. “Y’know one time—actually the first time Gareth and I smoked together, we were in the woods, behind my trailer, in the summertime, at night, mind you.” He started his hands already moving and eyes animated with the story.

“Basically, we were smoking out of a beer can, and I ask him, ‘This isn’t your first time smoking, right?’ and the kid says to me ‘Oh, no, I smoke all the time.’ and I think nothing about it. After the first hit he’s coughing like crazy, I think nothing about it, everyone coughs. But then we smoke about a gram, and it’s 2 in the morning, we’re drunk, we’re high, it’s still hot as hell outside, and he gets quiet on me right before I say we call it a night and crash in the house, when he looks at me nods, turns his head and—BLEH!” He exclaimed, his hands miming the projectile vomit he was describing from Gareth’s mouth. “Blows chunks everywhere,” he laughs, his eyes on the moon in front of them as he finishes the story as he relives it, “—takes three steps and falls over, knocked out cold.” He shakes his head. “I thought he died. I was terrified. I carried him in the house, got Wayne involved, but Gareth came to before I called the police on myself to get an ambulance out there. He gives me shit about ‘almost killing him’ all the time.” He laughed, settling back in his spot and took a drag of his cigarette before switching her for the joint.

“Holy fucking shit, I have to tell Chrissy about that, she’s gonna—“

“Why Chrissy?—Oh yeah, that’s who you were on the phone with earlier..” He cocked his head in confusion. “Yes! That’s who thought I was being murdered when you showed up at my window,” she chuckled as he made a face that imitated embarrassment and rubbed the back of his neck, “Oops.” He said quietly as she rolled her eyes playfully and nudged his shoulder with hers before continuing, “Anyway, we gotta play Cupid if she dumps Jason, cause Chrissy’s gotta crush on none other than the drummer of Corroded Coffin, himself.” She said with widened eyes for dramatic flair. Eddie gasped, practically shitting a brick, “I KNOW! But you gotta swear you won’t say anything to him or anyone else about it until after she’s ready to ask him out, okay?” She turned to him urgently, holding up her pinky for him to hook.

Eddie nodded without hesitation, wrapping his pinky around hers and kissing it, only thinking afterwards he hoped it went over okay with her. His eyes darted up to hers to gauge her reaction. Y/n smiled at their hands and then met Eddie’s gaze. “You wanna go hang out in my room? Listen to some music before I gotta go to bed?” She shrugged, playing with his rings absentmindedly.

“How can I say no to that?” He asked in response.

They quietly made their way into her bedroom, the blackness of night swallowed up by the closing of her lace curtains. Eddie entered first, standing by the window and helping Y/n through, squeezing her hand once before he let her go.

The look of an idea crossed Y/n’s face, “You wanna snack?” She whispered close to his ear. Eddie couldn’t deny his knees feeling weak as he nodded, “Yeah?” She asked with quiet excitement. “Would you wanna split a bowl of cereal?” She shrugged as she walked to her door and Eddie nodded, knowing he’d be ready to sharing anything with her; a joint, a cigarette, a drink, a meal, a bite, a piece of gum, his last breath if it kept her alive a second longer than him, maybe?

He sat on the end of her bed until she returned with a heaping bowl of Froot Loops, “Here, go ahead. ” She said in a whisper. He smiled, stepping out of his shoes and creeping over to her, his dark clothes contrasting beautifully with the glowing and homey oranges surrounding him as he took the bowl from her so she could lock the door as he took a big bite, sighing softly at the satisfying sweetness of the milk and cereal.

The gold knob on the dark wood door clicked softly. Eddie turned, watching her work at cozying the space and clearing off the nightstand and windowsill around her bed. Eddie smiled as he chewed when she brought out the blanket they took to the roof last, wondering if it still smelled like that night. He knew he wanted to live in the stale smoke and the scent of her perfume and laundry detergent forever.

“You wanna pick some music?” She asked as she spread the blanket across her bed and straightened her pillows. Eddie nodded, setting the bowl down on her nightstand and stepped over to the stereo, narrowing his eyes at the rows of titles in front of him. When she was satisfied with their space she joined him in his search. “I must say, I’m kinda in the mood for some Fleetwood Mac.” He retrieved the tape from its spot and grinned when he met her eyes, all puffy and tired looking behind the pink that contrasted so beautifully with her iris, the colors amplified in the warm light of her lamp.

“I love the way you think, Munson.” She smiled and took the tape from him, loading it into the deck and pressing play and adjusting the volume while Rhiannon trickled in.

“This one’s my favorite.” He sat down toward the end of her bed, more comfortably this time than last time. Y/n joined him, tossing him a couple pillows as she got under the blanket in the very corner opposite him. “Mine too.” She agreed, looking rather comfy, “Will you get the bowl, pretty please?” She asked quietly, contently. Eddie couldn’t help but smile, wondering what domestic bliss would feel like with her as he handed her the bowl.

They passed it back and forth between them for a little bit before finally getting shoulder to shoulder to pass only the spoon until they finished and split the milk. “At the rate we’re going we’re gonna get sick someday.” He joked as he set the empty bowl on the nightstand. “Then we just won’t share when we don’t feel good, simple.” She shrugged, settling in under her blanket, her thick fringe of eyelashes looking awful heavy now.

“You look pretty sleepy, sunshine.” Eddie teased softly as he leaned closer to her. She giggled and shook her head, “I’m not tired, my eyes are just heavy, there’s a difference.”

“Mmm, no, that’s what old people say right before they get in trouble for resting their eyes, you need to get to sleep.” He chuckled and bent over for his shoes. “No, no, stay for a little longer.” She urged in a whisper, one hand reaching for him as he turned around. He couldn’t resist the smile breaking across his face at the sight of her sleepy eyes. “Okay, just a little longer. You mind sparing some of this blanket though?” He nodded at the space next to her.

She smiled and opened up the blanket as an invitation for him to join her. He stealthily dove in, unable to resist pulling her close, his heart lurching when her hands found his shoulders while his arms found her waist. When he had the chance to overthink his decision he began to withdrawal, “Sorry, sweetheart—“

“Oh my god, Eddie, you’re freezing!” She exclaimed while taking his hands in hers and rubbing them and his arms the best she could and held them close to her without even thinking. Eddie thought he could keel over from their proximity and her touch alone, her mouth being close to his hands always did something to him.

“How’s this?” She asked, snatching him from his thoughts. “Th-That’s a lot better, thank you.” He mumbled, his eyes desperate to soak up every moment of her caring for him.

“Anytime.” She said, letting their hands rest between them on the bed, their fingers overlapping just the slightest though no one moved. “I think you might be the best friend I’ve ever had, Eddie.” She said, her eyes fluttering closed as she began to draw small circles on his knuckles with her finger.

Friend? The best of them all? Eddie smiled bitter sweetly at the girl in front of him. “I’m honored, Princess.” He whispered, matching her volume. “I wanna be the best friend you’ve ever had.” He whispered as he watched her breaths deepen, her jaw going slack and lips parting just the smallest bit, falling through the floor of consciousness and into sleep.

Eddie allowed himself a couple more minutes of soaking it all in, tracing the shapes of her face with his eyes, brushing a strand of hair off her face, trailing his fingers down her cheek softly and grinning when a faint smile crossed her face in her dream.

He sat up and retrieved his shoes as he tried to minutes before, slipping on the reeboks without lacing them. Eddie glanced down at her sleeping figure tucked under their blanket and smiled, wishing he could be there to tell her good morning.

He quietly walked over to her desk, spying a notepad and pencil cup to use at his disposal. He picked up the blank notepad and wrote quickly.

“Hope you sleep as soundly as you look like you are. Good night and good morning (: -E”

He nodded approvingly and set it on her nightstand next to her bed and eased across the end of her bed to open the window all the way for his escape. He tried to keep as quiet as possible so as to not wake the sleeping angel he was begrudgingly leaving.

As he stepped out into the unkept flower bed, the cold swarming him like a moth to a flame, he closed the window quietly. Giving her one last look, he pressed a kiss to his finger and stuck it to the glass where her head rested on the pillow. “See you tomorrow, friend.” He smiled half-heartedly and made the chilly trek home.

Part 6

-

-

-

@thincrusttheworks @navs-bhat @afternoonzephyr @bl0ssommanddie @wendyfawcett @vea-vea-vea @munsonsmel0dy @sana-li @drdvlss @certifiedtrashmouth @okaymunson @cestpresqueparfait @astrolockley @lovelyvivii @likedovesinthewnd

[bethanydelleman]

Charlotte Lucas Steps In

Henry Crawford proposes to Fanny Price. She tells him to wait a minute and consults her good friend, Charlotte Lucas, on whether she should accept or not. Charlotte sets love at zero, so let's take a look at the practical matters:

Most important: despite disliking Henry’s principles/behaviour towards her cousins, Fanny says twice that Henry has a good temper. She’s not afraid of him.

The Bertrams have no plan for Fanny’s future. Sir Thomas finally brings Fanny “out” into society, probably to try and secure Henry Crawford, by hosting a ball. We are told it was a whim, there is no mention of an actual plan for her to enter society. Also, there is no guaranteed provision long-term and Tom is a wasteful gambler WHO BLEW THROUGH HALF OF EDMUND’S INHERITANCE. Fanny might well be left in poverty by him if he runs MAnsfield into the ground like Sir Walter Elliot (this of course, is pre-personality transplant)

If we believe Mary, who says Henry will fall out of love, she also has complete confidence that he will take care of his wife and treat her properly. A sentiment that probably includes having discreet affairs if he has them.

Fanny is sickly, which everyone knows, and yet the Bertrams ignore her medical needs. She is not given a fire in either her bedroom or sitting room. When Fanny’s pony dies, her aunts do not think it’s important to replace her medical device, this is actually NEVER FULLY FIXED in the book, Fanny keeps using Edmund’s horse.

Mrs. Norris berates Fanny constantly for daring to exist, she also forces her to walk beyond her strength, doesn’t actually care about her well-being, and makes her feel like she deserves next to nothing. Fanny lives in fear of Aunt Norris’s “interminadable reproaches”

Lady Bertram, who claims to love Fanny, is entirely selfish in her love. Lady Bertram’s needs always come first: Fanny wants to go to Sotherton? Who will sit with me? Fanny wants to go to dinner? Who will make my tea? Who will arrange my sewing and do the hard bits? This is the second most kind person towards Fanny. What a fun life!

Edmund, who actually loves Fanny in a relatively unselfish way, still constantly forgets her and hasn’t fixed that many of her problems. He actually tells her not to get too cold in her room, instead of maybe ordering her a fire? Maybe, Edmund??? He gets her a horse and then lends it out to his crush. Oh Edmund.

Henry has already proved his influence in the navy, Fanny has two more brothers in the navy, probably two more to enter it, which means her family will significantly benefit from the Admiral’s interest.

Despite being the informal ward of a rich baronet, Fanny owns exactly 1 nice dress and 0 pieces of jewellery until William, Edmund, and Mary/Henry give her some. She is not being properly provided for by the Bertrams.

Fanny is currently entirely at the mercy of arbitrary charity from the Bertrams. A marriage contract would legally obligate Henry to give her things like pin money and for the first time, give her control over her environment. Like having a freaking fire in her freaking bedroom!!!!

So Fanny takes her friend’s advice and marries Henry. She now is in charge of fires, she can have all the fires she wants, all day long if she so chooses, she can be as snug as a bug in a rug. She will own her own horse! No one will force her to go on long exhausting walks. She can sew whatever and whenever she damn wants. She no longer needs to be the constant companion of The Well-Dressed Slug (Lady Bertram). She can buy many of the books, all the dramatic poetry she wants. Henry would buy them for her. Everyone is nice to her, so she’s free from constant streams of verbal abuse. And if she doesn’t love her husband, who cares if he flirts with other women? He’s at least discreet (remember Maria was the one who exposed the affair).

Honestly, call me Charlotte Lucas, but I would take that deal in a heartbeat. I think part of the point of Jane Austen’s novels is that it takes herculanean moral integrity or maybe ever a little insanity not to take these deals. 

[devildomdisaster]

Idk if you read Lore Olympus but chapter 129 gave me an angsty request idea.

So Persephone, who’s the goddess of spring, goes into a hibernation-like state and when her emotions go out of control, she ends up growing her hair really long and her body sprouts a lot of plants from her; to the point of covering her and whatever area she’s in with her plants.

So I would like to request head cannons of the Brothers reacting to an MC who gets really sad whenever the brothers insult or threaten them and after several weeks of being berated by demons it causes MC to shut down and go to their room but mistakes a comfort spell with a plant curse that causes their hair and plants to grow continuously long. The plants fill up MC’s room and while they would normally be surprised at the mistake, they don’t care any more. They allow the plants to to grow, even wrap around their neck and body, and hopes the curse kills them off before the brothers notice as they go in the “hibernation” stage of the curse (The curse causes the victim to grow a lot of plants and vines from their body until they die, which can take a few days).

I’m sorry for being so long and descriptive, I just wanna see the Bros panic and feel guilty that MC felt pushed to do this to themselves but I understand if you don’t want to do it

I don't read Lore Olympus but you described the situation really well so I hope this is something close to what you wanted.

Comfort spell gone wrong

Lately, nothing seemed to be good enough for the demons. No matter what you did one of them would find something to berate you for.

“Mc, your grades are subpar even for an exchange student. You’ll have to try harder in order to not be a disappointment to Diavolo and myself.” Lucifer warned over breakfast.

“Mc, you burned dinner. You should learn to be a better cook.” Beel grumbled. As if you had ever seen any of these ingredients before ending up in the Devildom.

Even Mammon seemed to be in a particularly unpleasant mood. A never-ending string of complaints about how hard it is to protect an ordinary human. “Geez, you’re such a hassle human.”

Taking refuge in the library to study and to give Mammon a break from you proved disastrous and nearly deadly. Somehow you’d managed to spill your cup of tea all over an old somewhat rare text after Asmo had barged in and startled you. Your string of bad luck continued when Satan rounded the corner and saw the soggy tea-stained pages you’d been trying to decipher. In his fit of rage, he’d called you several unpleasant names and asked if you were “capable of doing anything right or if all humans are as stupid as you?” You’d left as quickly as you were able to avoid any more of his wrath.

No matter where you went you kept walking in on Belphie napping and without fail he’d say something nasty to you, that would make tears burn the backs of your eyes.

Levi had angrily called you a “useless normie,” who he wished would “never come back.” and had pushed you from his room with a slam of his door.

Even Asmo who usually just ignored you when he was upset found every reason imaginable to critique your every aspect. Physical and personality. Not a single one of which made you feel any more than worthless.

So was it any wonder when at the end of a long week you’d locked yourself in your room and decided to try that comfort spell you’d heard Solomon talking about? It seemed simple enough. But then your tears had blurred your vision as you’d recited the words and your Latin was still shaky at best. But it was just a few lines! And there was no way you were going to go to one of the brothers for comfort when they had seemed perfectly happy to make you miserable for the last few weeks.

You’d read the spell aloud and curled up hoping that the spell would kick in and you’d feel even just the slightest bit better. The blinding green light and sudden drop in energy was the first and only warning the spell had gone wrong. But being new to magic meant it still sapped your energy, so you didn’t stop to think something might be wrong. By the time you realized what was happening, everything was out of control. Plants had begun to sprout from your skin and the floor around you, growing and growing. With each inch they grew you felt your exhaustion creep up and consume you. You were just so tired. Your eyes fluttered closed. This was wrong! You forced your eyes open again. You need to fix this. The spell! But a short nap wouldn’t hurt, would it? You’d have more energy after you woke up. Then you could go get one of the brothers. Satan would know how to fix this. Or Lucifer! He’d clean the spell up easily. Yes, after you woke up…

Lucifer hadn’t seen you all weekend. He figures you’re most likely studying. But you don’t show up for meals and none of his brothers have seen you either… and oh Diavolo! He can feel the spell from the dining room. How did he not notice sooner? The cold pulling sensation of the spell, like it was sucking the warmth and life from its surroundings.

When Lucifer reaches your door Mammon is already there. Knocking and shouting for you, but there's no answer. He all but breaks your door down, his brothers behind him, and finds you at the center of the spell. Unresponsive and covered in the plants using your energy to grow. The plants had begun climbing up the walls and twisting through your hair, sending out snow-white flowers.

“Beel! Don’t!” Lucifer warns as Beel reaches out to pull a handful of plants from you. “We don’t know what did this and what will happen to Mc if we just rip the spell off like that.”

“Lucifer, Mc did this to themself,” Satan points to the open spellbook. “It looks like they got a comfort spell mixed up.”

Fortunately, your last tired thoughts were correct and Lucifer is able to break the spell quickly. You wake surrounded by the brothers.

Lucifer:

All this happened for a comfort spell? Because you didn’t feel like you could come to him, to any of them?

He’s so sorry Mc. Enough that as he leans down to pick you up out of the mess of withering plants you can feel tears fall onto your face.

“Nothing I did was good enough for you Lucifer. Any of you. I just wanted to feel… I just wanted-”

His heart breaks when he realizes this is his brother’s fault, his fault. “You are always good enough, Mc. Much more than I could ever ask you to be, and if I ever made you feel like you weren't. No, the fact that I made you feel like you weren’t, means I have been truly terrible.”

You’re choking back your own tears now and you curl further into his arms as he carries you down the hall. “You said I was a disappointment.”

“My dear Mc, you have never been, nor could you ever be a disappointment to me. Forgive me for ever making you feel as if you were.”

Lucifer takes you to his bathroom and draws you a bath to wash away the last of the plant matter from your body.

Afterward, he’ll bring you anything you ask for. He wants to wrap you in his arms but doesn’t want to push you, so he asks softly if he can hold you.

He’ll spend weeks trying to make this up to you, even after you forgive him, he’ll be sure to tell you how much he loves you more often than he did before.

Mammon:

Shit human! Why didn’t you come to him? He loves you so much and oh. He made you feel like a burden.

How could he be so stupid when he knows how his brothers make him feel?

Mammon begs for your forgiveness in front of all his brothers.

“Please can ya forgive me? I never meant to make ya feel like a burden. You're the only human I- I want to protect you Mc. I’m so sorry.”

Mammon helps you up and since your room is covered in plants he offers to let you sleep in his room for the night.

He wraps you in blankets and brushes the hair from your face with trembling fingertips.

There are still a few stubborn leaves sticking to your face and in your hair so Mammon takes a warm washcloth and wipes them from your face before gently untangling the plants from your hair.

You’ll be getting little gifts and tokens of mammon’s affections for the foreseeable future.

Levi:

He threw you out of his room when you came to him for comfort and the guilt at seeing you almost die because of it is eating him alive.

He feels frozen

Maybe you would be better off without an otaku shut-in like him. He starts avoiding you like the plague.

You start to think that Levi is so disgusted with the fact that you did that spell that he doesn’t want anything to do with you anymore.

Despite this Levi still checks up on you. He wants to know that you are ok, he just does it without you knowing.

He’ll ask his brothers about you and discreetly glance at you during meals to make sure you’re eating enough and look healthy.

A few days later when your favorite and manga anime start showing up outside your door you confront Levi. “Are you mad at me? Do you just not want to be around me after what happened? Levi, I miss you!”

He is shook, and he can’t believe he messed up so badly.

He’s happy that he can invite you to hang out again, and he makes sure to spend long nights gaming or watching movies with you until you fall asleep against him. He’ll even stutter out how much he treasures his time with you, blushing fiercely all the while.

Satan:

Satan feels anger swell up inside him. How could he have let this happen? How could no one have seen how upset you were?

Once the spell has been dissolved he is at your side instantly. Brushing vines from your skin. His fingers are shaking in anger but his touch is so gentle.

When both you and your room are cleaned up Satan sits at your bedside, book in hand, reading to you.

He just wants to be close to you now. He wants you to know how much he cares about you but is still too worked up to get his thoughts out properly.

Eventually, his thoughts calm and he stops reading in the middle of a sentence. “Mc, I am so sorry. I never meant to make you feel unwanted. Every day I spend with you is infinitely better than a day without you. I know the spell was a mistake but… we almost lost you. I almost lost you.”

He wants to talk about what pushed you to do this. He won’t push but he really does think that he will be better able to help you if he understands.

Satan makes sure to spend more time with you from now on. He makes a conscious effort to check his temper at the door and be with you when you need him.

Sometimes he’ll just read to you until one of you confides in the other in quiet voices.

Asmo:

As you blink your eyes open Asmo gently brushes some plants from your cheek.

You are so pale and his heart breaks as you flinch away from him. You feel like a mess and you know you must look like one too so curl your body away from him trying to hide. Trying to avoid his critical gaze.

This is the moment Asmo knows he screwed up.

He draws his hand back, for a moment, before reaching out to you again. Cupping your cheek and wiping your tears away with perfectly manicured hands.

Lucifer has him take you to his bathroom to clean up while the rest of the brothers work to clear the plants from your room.

Asmo is quiet for a long while as he untangles plants from your hair.

“You’re so loved, Mc,” he says softly. “You are.” he insists when you shake your head no.

“More than you could ever know, and it’s our fault for not telling you. My fault for not making you feel worthy.”

After this incident, Asmo wants to make sure you know how beautiful you are. He starts self-care days once a week that soon turn into whole family affairs. Each week different combinations of his brother attend and you all work to pamper each other.

Asmo makes sure nothing like this happens again, he never wants to be part of the reason you feel unloved ever again.

Beel:

At first, Beel thinks you did this on purpose. Once the brothers realize you messed up the spell he is less angry but no less distraught.

Once you wake up, he wants to take you to get desserts. He’s heard humans eat Chocolate/ other sweets to feel better. And this makes sense to him, food does make everything better.

But you don’t want to go to Madam Screams or the kitchen to make your own. You’re still so tired. Not to mention embarrassed that you screwed the spell up this bad.

And now they are all staring at you like they care so much when none of them had any time to notice how they were making you feel before.

When you become unresponsive to the brother’s questions and apologies Beel scoops you up in his arms and walks away with you.

Something about the way he holds you close to his chest and his warmth causes you to finally let go.

You bury your face in his shirt to muffle your crying.

“I just… I felt so alone! And… I...but no one” you gasp out shakily between sobs.

Beel soothes you with soft murmuring as he gently cards his fingers through your hair and strokes down your back.

Once your crying quiets he starts to speak “Don’t do that again. You can always come to me Mc. I’m so sorry you felt like you couldn’t”

Belphie:

Belphie thinks it’s a joke at first. “Man, how could they mess up this bad?”

Then he sees Lucifer’s panicked expression and it hits him how serious this is.

Belphie is immediately by your side. Hands frantically feeling your wrist for a pulse.

After Lucifer breaks the spell and your eyes flutter open Belphie is filled with relief until a wave of guilt washes through him.

He can’t believe he fucked up so badly again. Sure this time he didn’t directly cause you physical harm, but he did play a role in causing you to almost die again.

“I am so very sorry Mc, I never meant to hurt you.”

He does everything he can think of to make it up to you. Anything you ask him for, as long as it’s within his power, is yours. No questions asked.

He asks permission just to hold your hand for weeks afterward as if he thinks you’ll come to your senses and decide you don’t want anything to do with him.

He wants to comfort you so bad.

To make sure you don’t feel like this again Belphie pulls you away to nap with him as often as he can get away with it. Most likely only a few times a week (much less often than he would like). Sometimes he uses this time just to talk with you. Others you really do nap, and Belphie curls himself around you. Occasionally he enters your dreams while you nap together to make sure no nightmares can touch you.

[imthebadguyyy]

Loved your first fic of Lewis!💛

Can you make one where Lewis Hamilton and Y/N have a fight and have been living separately and then Lewis comes to meet Y/N one evening and makes an excuse that his toothbrush is with Y/N? And then Lewis confronts Y/N that he knows Y/N still love him but won't admit?

..

* I know this is a very specific prompt. Bare with me. I just wanted more Angst/ Fluff with Longing for each other and Deep feelings and keep it Non-explicit. *

A/N - I'm so glad you liked the fic 😊

We're Meant To Be

Pairing - Lewis Hamilton x Reader (female)

Fandom - F1

Summary - After a messy fight, you don't know where your relationship stands. But when love is that strong, an argument can't stand in the way.

Warnings - Angst, fighting, swearing

Angered shouts. Tears of frustration. White noise. Desperate pleads. And then silence. That's what your neighbours would describe if they were asked to describe what they had heard from your house. An argument that seemed to have started over nothing, had blown up into a full scale fight. When had it become this bad? Only yesterday, you two had had a date night at home, with movies and wine. Everything was perfect. But then, suddenly everything seemed to go down a downward spiral.

Your relationship with your boyfriend had always been calm, it had been the type of love where you just loved each other with all your hearts, where fights were an incredibly rare appearance. You were both working, and he was away at races most of the time, so usually, you didn't waste time fighting, something that was an unnecessary waste of time in your opinion. But then, something had just switched for a second. It was after the race in Baku, and it hadn't gone well. Lewis had been heartbroken, after coming P15, and had heavily berated himself for it. To make him feel better, you had taken a couple of days off work. to just be with him and give him company to feel better.

It had been on the third day of you spending time with him that he had made an offhand comment that had struck a nerve with you. "I wish you could be there at race weekends more often. It's like you don't care enough about the races" The comment had pissed you off, to put it lightly. "What do you mean, I don't care about the races? I watch all of them Lewis, I'm always supporting you" you had practically seethed at him. "Don't get all huffy, darling, all I'm saying is that the other girlfriends and wives come quite often, but you only come to like three races a year" he had said, already regretting his words. "Maybe that's because I have a job?! I work for my living, and I love my job. I don't have time to fly around the world to accompany you to your races, and its damn hard to get leave off of work anyway, I was lucky to even get a week off of work, and you want me to be there every weekend? It's not possible for a working person, Lewis" you had said, anger bubbling in your voice, pulling away from him to sit up straight. "I know, I just meant-" "No, I know what you meant. I'm sorry I can't always be there, and don't you think I feel bad when I can't be there for you ?" "I know you do, I shouldn't have brought this up. But can you come for the next race?" He had asked, not looking at your eyes, regretting the answer. "I... can't. I have a really big meeting coming up and-" "And you can't come I get it"

And he had just left. You had felt your heart shatter, hating yourself for being so harsh with him. But it was true, you were a very hardworking person, and you had worked damn hard to get to where you were, successful at your job, one of the best in your field. It took years of hard work and perseverance and you were proud of it. But a part of you also knew that Lewis didn't deserve any of the crap you had given him, and you also knew that he was right, the other guys had their partners to support them during various race weekends, and you only showed up to one or two of them. He was well in his rights to tell you that. And you hated how it had ended.

You all alone, in your house, in a cold and empty bed, in a quiet house with silence that was much, much more deafening than words ever could be. It was heartbreaking, to see a future you had dreamed of just shattering in front of your eyes, dreams of having a family of your own with him fluttering away like wisps of smoke, the burning flames leaving only a heartbroken mess of a human being behind. Was that what it felt like? To be burned and left to turn to ashes, when a person that knew exactly how to ignite your flame just left you to burn away? To have someone who could ignite your all consuming passion, and turn you to putty in his hands, who could mould you back into shape, leave you to melt into a liquid through his fingers to just lay on the ground, a sad, broken, person.

And here you were, lying on your bed, the sheets that had warmed the both of you on cold nights, or been home to your pleasure laced activities now offering only some of the warmth it used to, cold and unforgiving, as you turned your pillow for the fifteenth time, neither side cool anymore. Even the pillow didn't want to forgive you, the sweat settling in on your neck again, beads of sweat running down your forehead again. The pulled curtains shielded you from the over bright sunshine, your damp hair sticking to your shoulders and neck. Your eyes, red rimmed and tired, shut to protect them from the faint light in the room, the tiredness not permitting you to even open them to look in the dim light of your room.

Somewhere near you, your phone buzzed again, for what felt like the hundredth time in three days. It had been three days, three long, painful days since you and Lewis had fought and not seen each other, and those 72 hours had ripped a part of your soul out. You had spent those three days in bed, your leave days still saving you from getting out of bed and dragging your body to office. Was your relationship over? Were you never going to meet the love of your life, the man you were destined to be with again? Sighing, you rolled over, pushing the damp strands of hair away from your face. Using strength you didn't know you had, you pulled yourself up, feeling your head spin.

Slowly, you made yourself walk into the kitchen, grabbing a piece of bread and popping it into the toaster. Then you splashed some water on your tired face, shuffling over to the bathroom to brush your teeth. After finishing your toast, you peeled off the sweaty shirt you had pulled on when he had left, realising with a pang that it was Lewis's nightshirt you were wearing, a purple one he loved. Dropping it into the laundry basket, you turned on the shower, stepping under the warm shower. The warm spray untangled the knots in your matted hair, as you soaped your body and hair, fresh tears rolling down your cheeks as memories of your showers together with Lewis came flooding back, as heartbroken sobs wracked your form again.

An hour after the not so great shower, you found yourself in another shirt belonging to Lewis, the bed in fresh sheets and covers, your pillow finally cool on both sides. You were clean and refreshed, albeit heartbroken, waiting on your takeout Chinese food and ice cream. Just as you lay there, scrolling through your Netflix account to watch some episode of FRIENDS to help you keep your spirits up, the doorbell rang. The thought of flavourful Chinese food and ice cream was enough to lure you out of your bed again, bare feet padding across the wooden floor to go to the door. You grabbed your wallet, opening the door, to find not your dinner, but Lewis, at the door, in one of your favourite sweatshirts on him. Did the clothes make you feel better? No. In fact, it just shattered your heart further.

"What are you doing here?" was the predictable line that left your lips. "I um, I left my toothbrush at your place. Can I have it back?"

"I beg your pardon? You left your toothbrush? You came back for a toothbrush, but not for me? Is that all I mean to you?!" you said, anger and a hint of sadness creeping into your tone. "You do mean a lot to me" he replied in a sigh. "Look, I didn't actually leave my toothbrush. That was a lie, and wow, I'm just realising how stupid that sounded, I'm sorry" His words were met with silence. The sadness in your eyes said it all. You were upset. Of course you were. "I don't have any toothbrushes except mine, so please leave" Before you could shut the door in his face, he pushed it back open, stepping into the house on his own.

"No do not come in here, please just get out!"

"No" was his frustrating reply. "What do you mean no? I said get out of my house!" "Not until we stop fighting and talk about what the hell happened!" Lewis yelled back, matching your tone. "Why the hell do you care?!" "Because I still love you damn it, I always have, and this stupid fight cannot, and should not break us apart!"

Your burst into tears. Sliding down against the wall, you buried your face in your hands, the sweatshirt arms covering your face as you sobbed. In an instant, Lewis was walking across to you, strong muscled arms wrapping around your shaking frame. "I'm sorry" you managed to blubber out, "I thought it over, and I don't go to support as often as I feel I should, and I'm sorry"

"No my darling, I'm sorry. I shouldn't have said all that to you. You work so hard baby, and I'm so proud of you. And I know that you try to come whenever you can, and I love you so much for that. I'm sorry, and I never shouldv'e asked you to prioritize my passion over yours" rubbing your shoulders softly, he let his chin rest on top of yours. Sniffling, you let your head rest on his shoulder. The soft hiccups that left your lips broke his heart even further, something he hadn't thought possible.

The last 3 days had been pure hell for him. He had missed you, God, he had missed you. He had missed having you in his bed in the morning, tracing patterns on your bare skin. He had missed leaving kisses on your soft cheeks and hands and on your cute nose, missed smiling against your skin as you giggled. He had missed you playing with Roscoe, the doggo following the both of you around the house. Even Roscoe had missed you, sniffing around the house for your familiar smell, cocking his ears up and looking at his dad questioningly.

He had missed your perfume, the scent filling his senses, intoxicating him in the best way possible. He missed you curling up to him, playing with his hair or tracing his tattoos, leaving little kisses around the compass tattoo, tracing his 'Still I Rise' tattoo, missing the goosebumps that would rise on his skin when you traced Michelangelo's Pieta on his skin, and kissed the family and faith tattoos on his sternum. He missed you everywhere, and it had taken three days for him to realize that your presence grounded him. Your presence was something he needed, not to survive, he had done that before, he needed you for his happiness.

And having you in his arms, crying over what he had said? It shattered his heart. And he wanted to just fix everything, to bring everything back to normal. Stroking your hair softly, he kept his lips pressed to your ear, whispering soft "I love you's" and "I'm so sorry baby's" and "I'm here for you's" into your ear, feeling his heart lighten ever so softly when your sniffles decreased and your grip on yourself relaxed.

Moving up to meet his eyes, you moved so you were at eye level with him. "So we're both idiots who are sorry?" You murmured, running your hand up to his collarbone. With a soft laugh, he nodded taking your hand into his, rubbing his thumb over yours. "Fighting sucks" he mumbled pushing a stray strand of hair behind your ear. "It really does" your replied, moving so you were straddling his waist. "Let's never do that again, and let's just make a schedule. We can figure out when you can come and visit me, and I'll just deal with the fact that my ethereal girlfriend won't grace the race tracks every race weekend-" "It all sounds lovely but all I want right now is your lips on mine" you interrupted, bringing a smirk to his lips.

Leaning forward, he pressed his lips to yours, hand moving to maneuver your head closer to his, your hands moving up to cup his cheek, as your traced his jawline, his thumb running over your waist. Breaking apart softly, he let his forehead rest on yours. "I love you" he whispered softly. "I love you too" you mumbled back. Before he could lean back in, the doorbell rang again.

"Damn it. That's my chinese food and ice cream" you sighed, smiling when he laughed. "Was it that bad?" He asked, letting you get up to open the door. "Like you wouldn't believe it"

After getting the food and paying for it, you set two plates on the table and put enough on your plates. "You know what the worst part was about fighting?" "What was?" "Not waking up to you tracing my tattoos" "Aww that's what you missed?" You giggled, walking up to kiss the tattoos on his hands. "I really did. You're cute and adorable and you're all mine. That's why I don't wanna fight. Let's keep it that way" "I love you so much" "I love you too"

***

A/N - I'm so, so sorry I took so long to write this, I really suck at angst, and I hope this is what you wanted, the last thing I want to do is give you subpar work 😭😭

Anyways, have a great day 💙

[subpar-ghoulfriend]

Let’s have a baby

yandere!EraserMicx PREGNANT!Reader 

A terrible mix up leading to an accidental pregnancy? Or something more intentional? Either way now you were pregnant with (none other than the beloved power couple heroes) Eraserhead and Present Mic’s child. Time to discuss how co parenting is going to work. 

TW: pregnancy, artificial insemination, yandere elements, mentions of stalking, alludes to potential custody battle

You had been avoiding the two men for the past week, which was challenging seeing as they managed to find your phone number, address, and place of work. Any time you blocked their calls they got a new number. Two Pro Heroes versus a twenty something civilian, it was only a matter of time until you were cornered.

Now the couple stood between you and your apartment. You had a long shift at your job as a pet groomer and just wanted to get some rest.

Present Mic was the first to speak. "Hey lil momma, we heard you had work today so we brought you some dinner. We thought we could talk over a nice meal."

You had no response. You were tired, both physically and emotionally. You had been put through the ringer ever since meeting them at your doctors office. It was a total Jane the Virgin situation. You went in for an assessment about some supposed ovarian cysts and unknowing left artificially inseminated. There was a supposed mix up, a digital glitch that somehow merged your chart with the surrogates - apparently your names were super similar. Two weeks later you were called back into the doctor's office and informed of what took place. And now you were in this living nightmare.

And the two heroes had nothing to do with the error. There was totally a surrogate. They hadn't paid off your provider. And why would they? You had never met them - although given their patrols they may have seen you once or twice...

They were tearful when they were informed of the mix up, they had been waiting patiently through the whole process and now everything was thrown in chaos. They offered to compensate you for your service which sent you into a blind rage. They just assumed you would carry a child, a child with half of your DNA, and then give YOUR baby away. Rationally you understood that they had planned to be be the only parents to the child, but that was with a professional surrogate who understood the process, who didn't want the child in their life, just happy to help out a loving couple. But that wasn't you, you grew up wanting to be a mom, and now they would take that from you.

What if they tried to legally take sole custody of the baby? Surely they had some pull in the judicial system. Besides, they were a solid couple with money, while you were alone with no family and working two jobs. The thought made you sick to your stomach.

You were shaking as you tried to push past them. Maybe they would just disappear if you ignored them, a girl could dream. But instead they tagged along inside. Albeit you weren’t fighting them on it, you knew this had to happen eventually.

Aizawa easily found the cluttered dining table in your small apartment. You flinched when the loud one tried to help you shrug off your backpack. Taking a seat on the couch you waited for them to start berating you.

"Come sit at the table, dinner is getting cold," Eraser spoke for the first time.

"I'll eat later, I'm not hungry."

"You may not be, but the baby needs to eat."

You glared, how dare they insinuate you didn't know what your child needed. If your body was hungry, you ate. If you were full the baby was full too.

But, you complied, not wanting to argue, "Fine, but I ate a snack not too long ago."

As you ate, Mic kept you company, picking at some left overs, they clearly ate before their visit. Aizawa was rummaging through your place but you managed to hold your tongue until he began throwing things out of your fridge.

"What are you doing?" You hissed, getting up out of your seat.

"Mic and I will bring you groceries tomorrow. The food you have is barely safe for an adult, let alone a fetus."

"Are you kidding me? It's not like I'm chugging alcohol and living off Twinkies. Hey! I just bought those turkey slices. How is turkey bad?" You whined.

To make sure you wouldn't dig the food out trash he dumped it out of his container.

"Zashi, don't let me forget to empty the trash on our way out. Do you know how much salt is in deli meat? And there's no way you can drink any of this while you're pregnant." He gestures to the cans of soda.

As the frustration built you had to fight back tears. They couldn't come in to your home and start throwing out your things.

"Some of us don't make ridiculous money, I'm buying what I can afford and the doctor never had any problem with my health." You hissed.

Hizashi felt the tension thickening, "Hey hey hey, it's okay. Sho and I will go get you some good stuff. We just gotta watch out for you and baby."

And that was the end of your resolve, you stomped past the Hero and locked yourself in your bedroom. Finally tears began to drip down your cheeks.

Back in your kitchen Mic was chiding his boyfriend for being so tough on you.

"So I should just back down while she stuffs herself with junk food?"

Mic gave him a shrug, showing him a bottle on your counter, "At lest she's taking her prenatal vitamins?"

Grabbing the keys to your apartment Aizawa instructed Mic to wait with you while he got you better groceries. He would make copies of your keys on his was back.

You prayed they would leave soon. You were laying in your bed having cried yourself out. Barely into your second month of pregnancy. You still had to endure this for at least seven more months, but most likely much longer.

Next thing you knew you were opening your eyes and the clock read seven AM. By now your uninvited guests must be gone. Nervously you sat up, praying that you'd skip the morning sickness just once this week. You had always had a weak stomach and even the doctor was surprised you were already experiencing the symptom. Unfortunately the minute your feet touched the floor you knew what was coming. You sprinted to the restroom, not even checking to see if the duo had left.

God this was terrible, you didn't just hate throwing up, you were terrified of it. What if you started and never stopped? But it did come to an end. You wiped the water from your eyes and took a moment before standing from the floor. You screamed when a hand slid under your arm, helping you up. Another set of feet rushed to the bathroom.

" What's wrong?" Hizashi huffed as he skid to a stop.

You pulled arm free from Aizawa's grasp. "What are you two still doing here?"

You turned in the faucet to rinse your mouth. Trying to calm your stress, the nausea was trying to return.

Undeterred the scruff pulled your hair into a bun before rubbing your back. You debated returning to bed but that wouldn't get them out of your apartment. You told them you need to sit down, both of them nodding, still wearing their concerned expressions. They got you a glass of water before joining you on the couch. Stubborn men, you sat at the end of the couch so they couldn't both sit, but Mic decided to perch himself on the armrest.

He started petting your hair, "You feelin better little listener?" You nodded in response.

"I got you more food, let us know if your hungry."

You sighed in defeat, "I'm barely two months pregnant, I can fend for myself. What did you all want to talk about?"

You anxiously placed a hand on your stomach. Both men felt their hearts flutter recognizing your maternal instincts kicking in.

Aizawa let Mic begin, he was the more gentle of the two.

"Well, we figured we got off to a rough start. You got put in a tough situation. We shouldn't have assumed you didn't want a child so we're not mad at how you stormed out. But either way we expect to be in our baby's life. The two of us talked it over and we don't want to fight you if you want to be in their life too. So if you wanna be the mommy we're cool with it."

You could blame your reaction on your hormones for your response but you didn't, "Geez thank you so much for allowing me to be in MY child's life."

Aizawa placed a hand on the back of your neck, giving you a gentle massage. "Okay then, the three of us are gonna have a baby. That means you have to stop ignoring us. We can raise the baby together, without involving anyone else. But if we have to, we can always go the legal route for the baby's best interest." 

He knew it was a low blow, but the couple needed you to stop fighting them. Your eyes snapped to his and you shook your head in protest.

"Okay then we're all the same page," Aizawa reassured you.

Mic cheered, "Now we can focus on the fun stuff."

"Hun," Eraserhead caught his attention. "There's still a few more important things to figure out. We don't want you going back to that doctor. They're incompetent. We scheduled you an appointment with another's clinic for next week. Okay?"

You couldn't find your voice after how easily he threatened to take your baby. So you just nodded. Half listening.

"Good. We also went ahead and programmed our numbers into your phone. We need to be able to check in with you."

"Okay, but I can't use my phone at one of my jobs."

"About that lil momma," Mic started. "You work a lot, which is totally bad ass, but we don't think you leave enough time to rest and take care of yourself."

You tried to protest but Aizawa cut you off, "You also shouldn't be working around so many animals. Even though we love animals, they can be unpredictable and one dog can trigger all the rest into a frenzy."

You were dumbfounded, "I've never heard of anything like that happening. One of my coworkers was pregnant last year, she worked until her maternity leave. Plus I need to be able to pay my bills. And don't offer to compensate me again."

"Why do you have to view it as compensation? We just want to take care of the mother of our child. Just think about it. Mic and I have to go take care of some business but we'll be back later this week."

---

Back at their home Hizashi was dramatically splayed on their bed.

"Babe why are you pouting?" Aizawa asked.

"Why can't we just bring her home already?"

Aizawa sympathized with his better half, but they needed to be methodical. He reminded Hizashi that they didn't need to cause her even more stress, especially so early into the pregnancy. If they played their cards right they would have their happy little family soon enough.

If they could ease you in to the relationship everything would be easier in the long run. They had been managing just fine until now, they could wait a few more months.

He joined Hizashi on the couch. Mic was comforting himself the way he usually did when he felt like this. He was scrolling through the countless photos they had collected since their chance encounter with you over a year ago. 

[5sospenguinqueen]

COLD HAND, WARM COCK - Bucky Barnes

PLOT: Bucky watches you train and you’ve had enough. Sam and Steve catch you. This is a fic from the Avengers Tower days where they all lived together. Based off this picture.

WARNING: Unprotected sex

Fists smacking into the bag, you step back so that it doesn’t knock you onto your arse, before darting back towards it and booting it with your foot. Grunting as the impact reverberated up your spine, you knew Nat would criticise your poor technique if she had been training with you. Your mind was otherwise preoccupied to think about your stance. For weeks you had been tense and coiled tightly all because of the newest resident of the Avengers Tower.

Bucky Barnes had been living across the hall from you for almost a year now and yet you still hadn’t relaxed fully around him. You were constantly aware of his presence and it had taken him a few months of Steve forcing the two of you to spend time together until he had relaxed around you. However, you had developed a strong bond since the night you found him on the balcony at 2am, staring up at the moon and shaking. It wasn’t a cold night and the distant look in his eyes informed you that something was wrong. You had pulled him in for a tight hug and he had spilled his heart to you about his nightmare. Happiness bubbled in your chest when - a few days later - you had teased him about his metal arm. Biting your tongue, you waited for the usual stony glare he shot you (or even an indifferent remark) but instead he had let out a small chuckle before responding with his own quip.

The first time the two of you had been sent on a mission alone, he had lost control for a millisecond when you two had returned to the motel room. Deep in thought, he had been startled when your small hand touched his right arm. Before you could speak, you were pressed against the beige wall and a vibranium arm was crushing your windpipe. Despite the fact that you were gasping for air, you refused to hurt him and instead begged for him to let you go. Looking down at your bloodshot eyes and tear stained cheeks, he dropped you instantly. Cowering in a corner on the other side of the room, he pleaded for your forgiveness; apologies spilled from his mouth with every other sentence. The pair of you had spent the night cuddled up in the small motel bed, your hand stroking his hair as his tears dripped onto your neck. Flowers had been left outside your door out of gratitude for your help and your silence. If you had told the other team what had happened, he would’ve been forced back to the ‘luxury psych hotel’.

As the bond between the two of you grew, so did the sexual tension. Electricity coursed through your veins each time he brushed past you. His cock jumped every time you smiled at him like he was one of the best people in your life. Sarcastic comments had been traded for teasing comments. Lingering touches and “incidental brushes” of your chest and his ass had you spending numerous nights with your fingers deep inside you and Bucky’s name tumbling past your lips. Exhaling deeply, you felt those piercing blue eyes that haunt your dreams staring at your figure.

“Can I help you, Mr Barnes? I know in your old age your memory starts to falter but this is a training room. You should be training, not lounging about.” You say, snarkily.

A heat ignited in your core when you turned to look at him. Seated on the bench, his legs were spread wide open, elbows resting on his knees. Hands dangling in between them, the veins in his right harm rippled as he flexed his muscles and his metal arm gleamed in the fluorescent lighting. Mouth hung slightly open, his tongue darted out to wet his bottom lip as he brazenly looked you up and down.

“And you should be training, not shaking your ass at me,” he smirked, leaning forward to see how you would react.

Taking a step towards him, you circle him before coming to a stop behind him. Leaning down, you whispered in his ear and smiled at the goosebumps that appeared on his neck. “I shake my ass for myself and myself only. Anyway, Barnes, you should be keeping your eyes to yourself. I’m far too young for you, Grandpa.”

“Oh, Doll, I could show you things that would have your legs shaking.” Bucky taunted, grabbing your arm as you tried to move away and swinging you into his lap.

Gasping at the sudden movement, you felt your panties dampen when he forced your legs on either side of him so that you were straddling his lap. One warm hand and one cold hand rested on your bare waist, an erotic combination that had your heart quickening. Forehead resting upon his own, your breath mingled with Bucky’s. Once more, his tongue licked his bottom lip but with your close proximity, it tickled your own lips slightly. Both of you knew that there would be no backing down or running away this time. Needing something to soothe the fire within your stomach, you made the first move.

Leaning forward, you connected your lips, hands sliding into his hair and giving a slight tug. Moaning into your mouth, Bucky bucked his hips against you. Tongue brushing against his, you squeaked in surprise when you found yourself on the floor. Your hands grip the bottom of his shirt and he pulls away from you to allow you to pull it over his head. Instead of reclaiming your lips, Bucky trailed open-mouthed kisses down your neck, sucking against a small spot that had your hips bumping against his.

“Buck!” You shrieked in shock when his metal arm grasped your breast. The coldness of the metal hand had you crawling away.

“I’m sorry, Doll. I didn’t mean to scare you.” Bucky frowned, lines forming between his brows as he backed away. Leaning up on your elbows, you reassured him that his metal arm didn’t scare you at all.

“You don’t scare me, Buck. I trust you completely. It was just cold.”

However, he still looked doubtful so you grabbed his metal arm and placed it on your stomach. Waiting to see what you would do next, Bucky’s cocky persona returned once you pushed his hand under the waistband of your shorts.

“Y/N, are you sure?” “Buck, if you don’t fuck me right now, I will go and jump one of those newbies.”

A rip sound echoed throughout the training room and your mouth dropped open at the sight of your shorts in his hand; torn in two. Before you could berate him, his mouth pressed a kiss to the skin above the band of your underwear and you begged him to touch you. One finger brushed along your core through your lacy panties, grinning at the dampness of them. Raising your hips so he could pull them down your leg, you protested when his right hand teased its way up your leg.

“Metal. Use the metal one.”

Cocking his eyebrow, Bucky shook his head in amusement before a cold finger circled the small nub of pleasure. Tracing your slit, Bucky blew gently on your wet mound before he slid a finger inside of you. An elicit gasp escaped your mouth when he curled it, pumping in and out slowly. Bucking your hips against his touch, you begged for more.

“Love the sounds you make, Doll.” Bucky murmured against your clit before he sucked gently.

Your hands pulled on the dark locks of his hair, shrieking slightly when he groaned against you.

“Buck, please, I need you in me.” “So desperate.” Bucky taunted as you made grabby hands at his shorts. “I’m gonna fuck you until you beg me to stop.”

Pathetic whimpers poured out of your mouth as Bucky pulled down his shorts, revealing his hardened cock. Gripping both your wrists in his metal hand, Bucky pinned your arms above your head, enjoying the way you squirmed. You were helpless under him. Attaching his mouth to your nipple, Bucky slid his tip inside you.

“More,” you begged. A shocked scream came out your mouth as Bucky slammed himself inside you, revelling in the warmth of your walls. Barely giving you time to adjust to the sheer size of him (apparently the super soldier serum enhanced more than his muscles), Bucky pulled out before thrusting deep inside you once more.

“Eyes on me, Y/N.” Bucky demanded as your back arched off the floor and your eyes fluttered shut. Bucky’s other warm hand gripped your hip tightly as he pounded into you, hard enough to leave bruises. Hips pistoning back and forth, Bucky grunted as your walls clenched around him. A mix of curses and his name poured out of your mouth as you fought against his grip, wanting nothing more than to touch him.

“Wanna touch you. Please, Bucky.” You moaned, pleasure rippling through you. His hips came to a stop and you cried out, wanting him to resume the pace that had you teetering on the edge of an orgasm. Wrapping his arms around you, Bucky leaned back so that he was seated and you were in his lap. Both of you moaned at the sensation before Bucky was bouncing you on his cock. The new angle had Bucky sliding in deeper and you screamed as he reached the right spot.

“You like that, doll.” Bucky said cockily, enjoying the sound of his skin slapping against yours.

“So close, Buck. Gonna make me cum.”

Bucky’s movements became sloppy as he thrust faster, eager to watch your face as you came undone. Your hands wrapped around his biceps, nails digging in and as you matched his pace. Pressing your mouth against his neck, you sucked lightly as your walls clenched along his thick member.

“The thing you do to me.” Bucky muttered. “Been wanting this for ages. Come on, princess.” His metal hand reached down and his thumb connected with your clit, rubbing circles onto it.

Head dropping into the crook of his neck, you moaned his name loudly as your orgasm washed over you. Waves of pleasure had you arching into Bucky, nipples brushing against his slick chest. Bucky fucked you through his orgasm, chasing his own high. When he finally came, his teeth sank into your shoulder to muffle the growl that rumbled through his chest and out his mouth. Hot cum splashed against your sensitive walls and you pulled him closer to you, basking in the after-sex emotions.

“Maybe now you’ll get the hint that I’d like you to take me to dinner.” You smiled, pressing a lazy kiss to the underneath of his jaw. Neither one of you were ready to move from the position you were in and Bucky was in no rush to slip out of the warm walls that perfectly encased him.

“AHHH! Are you fonduing?!”

“Ya’ll nasty.”

Two loud voices pulled the two of you out of the bubble you had created. Cursing, Bucky pressed himself against your body, shielding you from his two friends. Steve had turned his back on you both, hands covering his face as if he would somehow still be able to see you. Sam was staring at the ceiling but his body racked with laughter. Apparently the gym wasn’t the most private place to sleep with your super soldier.

[apocalypticgargoyle]

Dream smut or fluff where reader and him are high key mean to eachotjer despite having so many mutual friends, but then something (very vague i know I’m sorry) makes them have to get close and the develop feelings? Sorry I’m shit at requests but thank you!!!

i know this is shitty im sorry akjsdh bls forgive me

𝐄𝐋𝐄𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐎𝐑. ♘ 𝐝𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐦 𝐱 𝐫𝐞𝐚𝐝𝐞𝐫

± warnings: dream being a dick, slight slut shaming, toxic behavior, vulgar/suggestive mentions and language, sexual harassment on a bus (not by dream, you can breathe)

⋆ song recommendation: When the Night is Over by Lord Huron

You pulled a blanket beneath your chin, yawning slightly at whatever the tv was playing. You only had it on in an attempt to drown out the noises coming from your roommate's bedroom as she smoozed her date. You were honestly shocked the two hadn’t moved in together yet with all the time they spent wrapped up.

Her door opened, her eyes widening slightly at the sight of you sprawled out on the couch. He marched toward you quietly, hovering over your shoulder. You peered up at her hesitantly. “What are you watching?” She asked, voice barely above a whisper. You furrowed your brows, opening your mouth to speak but she hurriedly cut you off. “Do you mind watching it at Nick’s instead?”

You raised your eyebrows. “You’re kicking me out again?” She gave you an apologetic smile, making you roll your eyes as you stood up and pulled on your jacket. “This would hurt less if they also paid rent,” you mumbled, with a small glare.

She thanked you repeatedly, holding onto your arm as you gathered what little belongings you needed for the night. “I promise I’ll make it up to you,” she courted, opening the door for you. “Tomorrow, dinner’s on me okay?” You sent her a tired look and she apologized again. She stopped you as you stepped out into the cold night, leaning through the space between the door and the frame. “Maybe you can cozy up to that Clay guy? You guys have such a good vibe,” she mocked, making you chuckle lightly.

You shook your head, waving to her. “Enjoy your night. Please, for the love of God, clean the bathroom afterward,” you called, hearing her laugh at your statement.

The bus ride was quiet due to the time of night and the weather, both of which you didn’t mind. You knew Nick’s house would be warm and loud. Before you knew it, you found yourself in front of his apartment door, kicking at the concrete ground as you heard someone stumbling to let you inside. The door opened swiftly, Clay’s large frame blocking the light from the kitchen. He leaned against the doorframe mockingly as he looked at you.

He wet his lips. “Who’s the lucky guy tonight?” He joshed.

You rolled your eyes, brushing past his body to get out of the cold. “Whoever’s dick you’re not sucking, I guess,” you quipped back, making him laugh darkly. You kicked off your shoes as he shut the door. “Where’s Sapnap?” You asked, shrugging off your jacket. You’d texted him ahead of time to ask if you could stay over, which he readily agreed to.

Clay sent you a smug look. “You guys have a fun night planned?” He made a gesture with his hand to insinuate you were there to give Nick a handjob.

You bit back a chuckle. “Why? You wanna join?” You shot back. He bit his lip and moaned pornographically.

“Cut it out, Dream,” Nick grumbled as he walked into the room. He pulled on your arm to follow him.

Dream scoffed exasperatedly. “Me? I’m not the one who started it!” He called after the two of you.

As Nick pushed you out of the room, you turned your head. “You most certainly did!” You answered. You heard him chuckle at your words as Nick shut the door to his room. You plopped down on his bed as he sat in his chair, swiveling to look at you. “Why does Dream pick at me so much?” You mumbled, fishing in your pockets for your phone.

“He’s jealous,” Nick answered absent-mindedly. “What's the date look like tonight?” He asked, referring to the reason you were there in the first place. This wasn’t the first time or the last time your roommate had kicked you out. It was becoming a more frequent occurrence for you to end up on Nick’s couch or at their place in the middle of the day with your toothbrush and a change of clothes.

You moved to lean into his pillows. “I don’t know, it's the same granola fucker she’s been hanging around,” you answered.

He rubbed his chin with a slight smirk. “There’s a subtle justice to knowing she’s still with that asshat,” he commented, making you snort.

A week later, you were on your way back to your apartment after a lecture when someone felt you up. It was the straw on the camel’s back for you as you spin around to smack the guy, stirring up a few of the bystanders. You’d walked the rest of the way home, stepping through the door to be met with your roommate and her hookup twisted together in the kitchen.

You clamped your hand over your eyes, mumbling about how you just wanted to take a nap when you were once again sent to Nick’s. You let subtle tears fall as you trudged your way across the city, hoping to get out whatever darkness you had to your attitude. The last thing you wanted to do was confront Clay looking like you did. He was like the troll with the keys to the bridge. That was really the only reason the two of you ever talked, so you knew he’d be waiting to berate you before you could get to Nick.

As you walked into the building, you spotted Clay carrying a large box, his hair slightly disheveled and his hands dirty. You knew almost instantly that he was probably attempting to fix the kitchen sink and got a call because of the size of the package. That sink had been dripping since they’d moved in, making it Clay’s mission to futz around with it every Friday afternoon. You tried helping him one time, only ending up with a deflated sense of confidence and the second wave of your childhood anger issues.

He nodded at you as you held the elevator door open for him. “What’s up, babycakes?” He chirped, popping his gum. When you hesitated to answer, he looked at you fully, scoffing. “Damn, walk of shame gone sour?”

You crossed your arms over your chest, inhaling deeply to try and calm your nerves. “I’m not really in the mood today,” you muttered, tucking your hands between your back and the wall.

He snorted, setting the box down between his feet. “You’re always in the mood! Isn’t that like your thing,” he continued to jeer. “You look like you had a fun night though-”

“Clay, stop. I’m serious,” barked at him. His expression twisting at your use of his name.

He raised his hands in mock defense. “Sorry, I thought we had---like a bit thing, um-” he cut himself off, awkwardly shoving his fists in his pockets. After a beat of silence between the two of you, the elevator came to a sharp halt on the wrong floor, the light switching to red. The two of you shared a look, knowing that the landlord was probably flipping the wrong switches again. Clay texted Nick to see what was going on.

It began to grow colder in the elevator, as it usually did. When it was off, the cold from outside usually seeped in through the elevator shaft. There was one time you were stuck in the elevator for a few hours with one of your neighbors and Karl when he had come to visit. Back then, the three of you played Uno on the guy’s phone. It was also summer, so the chill creeping up your legs wasn’t as intolerable as it was now.

You rubbed the arms of your sweater in hopes of generating some kind of warmth. Clay watched you carefully, his hands moving to grip the bar behind him. “Do you want my sweatshirt?” He offered. You shook your head, sliding onto the ground and hugging your knees to your chest. He hesitantly slumped down beside you, kicking his long legs out towards the door. The red light filling the space made his features look softer.

He nudged your arm gently with his own. “I know I’m not Sapnap, but…” he chewed on the inside of his cheek, shrugging slightly, “I mean, we’re stuck in here. We can talk about it.”

You blinked away the tears threatening to spill once again, your eyes burning and tired. “I haven’t slept with him, you know?” You stated, turning to look at him briefly before moving to sit cross-legged, planning with your fingers. “I’ve never even kissed him. I’ve never kissed anyone,” you scoffed. Clay was silent, but out of the corner of your eye, you could see him watching you intently.

Being this close to him, you could smell the smoky vanilla undertones of his cologne. The scent reminded you of a masculine version of the candle your aunt always burned when she went out for a night to spite her ex-husband.

Clay leaned his head back against the wood paneling, his soft blond hair flattening in the back to spread against the wall. You swallowed, sighing slightly. “I haven’t even had my first kiss yet and I’m getting groped on the bus and kicked out of my damn apartment because my roommate and her fucking boyfriend have to hook up on every surface. Nothing is sacred.” You shook your head, wiping away some stray tears with the back of your hand and sniffling pathetically. “You can keep making slut jokes, I don’t care. But I swear to God, I haven’t done anything with Sapnap. Or Karl, or Quackity. No one.”

He chuckled softly. “I know. That’s why I used to make those jokes,” he mumbled. “It was like… ironic humor. And then it got so far that the only way I knew you’d talk back to me was if I was fucking around with you,” he admitted. You chuckled slightly at his words, taking a deep breath.

“Oh, Dream,” you sighed. “I would have hooked up with you if you weren’t such an ass,” you chided. His laugh made you feel better. He held his hand out to you, more for support than anything, but as you laced your fingers with his, your heart eased, feeling safe beside him.

After a beat of silence, he spoke up again. "I can ride the bus with you now... if you want..." He offered, a shyness that seemed so foreign to his character shown through his eyes. "I promise I won't grope you," he joshed, making you roll your eyes.

"That's really not something we should be joking about," you mumbled, wiping away the rest of your tears on your sleeve.

His thumb brushed against the back of your hand soothingly. "I mask my awkwardness around you in dark humor. I'm sorry."