#i’m still gonna try and shift but i’m definitely gonna have breaks in between if i’m successful

[mrsdarkandyandere7]

Lover's Quarrel

Pairing: Dark (aged-up) Katsuki Bakugo x (female) Reader

▶ This is a yandere/dark work and it may contain triggering content so please READ THE WARNINGS before. Do not read if minor.

More at Masterlist

Female Reader

SUMMARY: You get away from Bakugo’s toxic clutches. But soon your peace comes to an end.

WARNINGS: Toxic Relationship; minor Violence/Abuse.

AN: Please, reblog and give me feedback.

I just realized today is his birthday, so here it is :) hope you guys like this.

–

“...you better damn pick up my calls, (Y/N). I’m losing my patience here so you better get that fucking attitude out of your system or I’ll do it for you. Swear to god I’m gonna drag your stupid ass back home if you don’t come to your damn senses and if you fucking think that-”

You press a button, closing the voicemail with a sigh. Throwing your phone to the bed’s edge, you turn your back to it, curling yourself into a ball. 

Your mind is an unstable whirlwind of thoughts and worries and a solitary tear rolls down your face. It’s not fair.

None of this is fair.

You pull the blankets over you, but even their warmth isn't enough to calm the cold that scatters through your body. 

A sob breaks your composure and you hastily push your face into the pillow, smothering down the ugly sobs and whines that break out. 

It takes a long time until your eyes are finally dry and you have no more tears to weep.

But even afterwards, as you finally fall asleep, the heavy feeling still weighs on your heart.

Ding. 

Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. Ding. 

Your friend looks at you and you’re quick to mute the notifications that pop up, eyes catching sight of the messages that Bakugo is spamming you before you black the screen. 

“I know I’ve asked before, but is everything really okay?” she asks, ignoring the movie on display in favor of looking at you, a concerned wrinkle settling between her brows.

“You seem… so distracted ever since you came. Is it about Bakugo?” 

You shift on the couch, uncomfortable. 

“It’s nothing.” you hesitantly tell her, measuring your words carefully. None of your friends know about the depth of Bakugo’s dark side and you’d rather not involve them.

Even though you’re almost sure that she suspects something is up, especially with the unannounced way you dropped by unannounced a couple of days ago, asking if you could stay a few days. 

“You can tell me, you know that, right? I’m not gonna judge or whatever.” 

You nod, giving her a small smile but no words come out of you despite the hefty weight on your mind. You don’t want to burden her with your problems. 

“I know, don’t worry. We’re just giving it some time. Lover’s quarrel and all.” you try to joke even though there's no humor in your smile.

"I see, okay." your friend draws a small smile, hesitating for a moment before letting it be. 

Work drags far too slowly. 

Boring paperwork to be filled, a few documents that need reviewing.

Nothing that actually manages to successfully distract you away from your current problems. If anything, it leaves you with far too much time for your mind to wander through your situation.

A definitive break-up is more complicated than what it seems as you’re aware that Bakugo won’t peacefully accept that. 

Just the idea of having to deal with an even angrier Katsuki has you cowering further into your chair and you distract yourself by opening your work email, digging into the emails that need to be answered. 

You’ll think about Bakugo later. 

“Later” arrives much earlier than what you expect.

When the clock hits 6 p.m you reluctantly turn off the computer, gathering your jacket and your purse. 

When you check your phone out of habit, the lack of messages surprises you. Strange.

Maybe Bakugo is finally catching the hints that you want to be left alone? You sure hope so.

You couldn’t be more wrong about it and you almost jump when your co-worker shrieks in delight, nudging your arm as you retrieve your car keys from the purse. 

“Oh god, he’s so cute, damn. Seems like someone was eager to see you.” 

Your heart drops at the sight of the blonde man that leans against your car, crimson eyes fixed on you.

“You’re so lucky. My boyfriend never comes to pick me up.” she whines before finally saying a distracted goodbye, throwing adoration filled glances at Bakugo when she walks away. 

For a moment, you consider leaving your car in the open parking-lot. You could take the bus to your friend’s apartment. It would be no big deal, only half an hour before reaching her place. 

But the impassive expression on your boyfriend’s face warns you not to ignore him and you don’t doubt Bakugo’s ability to cause a overly explosive scene right in front of your workplace. 

Your legs walk on their own towards him and he straightens up, pushing himself off the hood as he walks to you, meeting you half-way, far too close for your comfort.

He’s wearing civilian clothes, you notice. They make his firm muscles bulge from beneath the thin material, the veins in his arms popping out with his hands hidden in the pant’s pockets, as always.  

“What do you want?” 

“Can we talk?” he asks.

“Talk then.” 

Irritation seeps into Bakugo’s face. He’s never had much patience. 

“We can talk in your car. The keys.” 

Despite his stretched hand, you don’t deposit the keys in his palm. It’s your car. It’s your life. You have to fight for it. 

“Y/n.”

You take a step back, shaking your head. 

“If you wanna talk, then we can talk here. Out in the open.” 

The corner of his mouth twitches with ire, and it compels you to take another tiny step away from him. 

“Will you stop fucking stepping away from me?” his voice booms loudly through the empty parking lot, eliciting a wince from you. “Quit acting like I’m gonna beat you to a bloody pulp or somethin’. I’m just trying to take you back home, you idiot.” 

“But I’m not going back.”

“You are.”

You clench your teeth, hoping it would help ease out the incoming flow of angry tears that threatens to spill at any moment now. 

“I said. I’m not going back.” 

Bakugo ignores your words, losing his patience upon your refusal. 

“Like hell you aren’t. I’ve had enough of this stupid attitude of yours.”

His hand latches to your wrist, holding it in a bruising grip, tight enough for you to feel the bones in your hands being painfully compressed together. 

“Ah, Katsuki, you’re hurting me!” you cry out, attempting to release his grip by using your free hand.

But your fingers are far too weak to pull him away and he groans when your nails scratch him. It makes him grip your hand harder and you sob, body limpless following forward when Bakugo tugs you in his direction. 

You bump into his hard chest, head sharply pulled back with his callous hand enveloping the back of your neck, his large palm easily covering all of it.

The tall hero doesn’t even bother looking around, unafraid of the possibility of someone walking by. Bakugo’s never been one to be overzealous, much less now that the position on Pro Hero Number 2 belongs to him. 

“You’ve had your fun these past days. But it’s over now, y’hear me?” the tips of his fingers dig into your neck, and you’re barely able to hold his threatening gaze, already knowing that you’re not coming out on top of this.

“You’re coming back home with me. No fuckin' fuss, no complaining, and that’s final. Like hell I’m gonna let you get away from me, so you better start fixing that attitude.”  

He squeezes your neck, looking at you with deadly eyes. 

“You hear me? Brat.” 

He keeps his hand on the back of your neck when guiding you to your own car, unceremoniously pushing you to the passenger’s seat before claiming the steering wheel for himself. 

A few tears escape from your eyes and you turn your face to the window, ignoring the sharp looks Bakugo throws your way.

You hug yourself, all of your hope dissolving at the realization that you’re never truly gonna be free from him. 

[rafeandonlyrafe]

unexpected consequences

words: 700

warnings: 18+ only!, smut, p in v sex, condoms breaking, pregnancy/breeding talk, unprotected p in v sex, established relationship, mention of marriage

“oh fuck, yeah.” you moan out, fingers gripping rafes shoulders. “right-right there.”

your moans are extra loud today, having been apart from rafe for nearly a week after he had business out of the country. rafe is just as pent up as you, thrusting harshly into your cunt to the chorus of his grunts.

“close.” rafe warns, but you could tell anyways by the swelling of his cock that he wouldn’t last long.

“oh my god, yes.” you moan out, back arching off the bed as your release pushes through your body, cumming with a final shout of your boyfriends name.

rafe drops his head into your neck as he cums inside of you, pushing as deeply as he can as your cunt pulses around him. you wrap your arms around his shoulders and press soft kisses to his head while rafe pants through his orgasm, until you shift slightly and feel it inside of you.

“rafe, pull out.” you shove at his shoulder, causing him to look up in concern, but he slips his softening cock out.

“what is it baby?” rafe asks. you look down at the condom he always wears, where theres always a bit of white cum gathered at the tip, but this time it looks practically empty, like he just rolled it on.

“rafe.” you hit his shoulder, causing him to flinch and look down.

“wha-” rafe suddenly realizes the issue, rolling himself off the bed as he walks into the bathroom, no doubt to inspect the condom and tell you what you already know is true.

“it broke.” rafe says when he comes out a moment later.

“i know.” you admit, shifting your hips from side to side again. “i can tell.”

“im so sorry baby.” rafe says with a sigh, laying on the bed next to you but not pulling you into his arms, not sure if you want to be touched.

“its okay.” you hum softly, mind still reeling. “you didn’t know.”

“what are we gonna do?” rafe asks, knowing you’re not on birth control due to affecting other medication you’re on.

“well, i can take a plan b in the morning…” you say quietly. 

“or.” rafe encourages you to continue, able to tell that you aren’t finished.

“or we could wait and see. i mean i probably won’t get pregnant just from one time, right?” you shrug.

“what about if it does take? and you’re pregnant?” rafe asks, looking at your tummy.

as if you’re thinking the same thing, you lay your hand over your stomach, knowing that even if you are pregnant there is nothing in there yet, but the thought alone has you rubbing gently over your skin. “i don’t know.” you admit.

“i want to keep it.” rafe blurts out. “if-if you are pregnant.” rafe can’t take not touching you any longer, pulling you close to him and tangling your limbs together.

“are you sure?” you raise your eyebrows. you think rafe would be an amazing father, knowing how protective he is of you, and how he strives every day to take even better care of you. “we are so young.”

“i love you. i want to be with you, i want a family with you. why not start now?” rafe questions. he won’t admit it to you yet, but he’s been thinking about taking the next step, having even gone ring shopping to see his options. “besides-” rafe smiles, “why are you trying to talk me out of it? you’ve always wanted kids.”

you grin back at him. “i know.” you let a giggle free, feeling giddy about the possibility. you’ve always wanted to become a mom, especially because you have so many younger siblings. “so, are we doing this?”

“yes.” rafe says definitively, pulling you in for a kiss, a comforting one that you truly need.

“oh my god, im so excited.” you break the kiss to mumble against his lips.

rafe nods in agreement, lowering a hand between your bodies to touch your stomach. “probably too early to start talking to your tummy, huh?” 

“definitely. i mean, we don’t even know if i’m pregnant, it may take a couple tries…” you trail off, hoping rafe gets your intention.

“well, i will just have to keep cumming inside you.” rafe shrugs. “in fact, we shouldn’t take any chances and i should fill you up again right now.”

rafes hand lowers from your stomach to your thigh as he grabs your flesh and pulls your leg over his hip, spreading your thighs for him as your cunt rubs up against his quickly hardening cock.

“rafe!” you shout with a laugh, but don’t stop him as he begins to grind his cock into your core.

taglist: @drewstarkeyslut @forstarkey @f4ll-for-you @dilvcv @drudyslut @jjmaybankswifes-blog @rafescokenostril @jjsmarijuana @jjmaybankisbae @seeingstarks @angelofcigs @cece45450 @babygorewhore @vanessa-rafesgirl @michelleisheres-blog @outerbankspov @drewstarkeyswifehoe @cutielando @kamninaries @buckyswhxre @rafeinterlude @bellbottombaby @deeaardiary @rubixgsworld @emma77645 @wearemadeofstardust0 @leighbronk @starkeysheart

[try-set-me-on-fire]

Eddie drunkenly calls Buck from wine night, confesses some things. On ao3 here.

Eddie calls him at 11:34 pm, and it’s a Thursday, so that means a few things. It’s wine night, the biggest thing. It’s wine night, at Hen and Karen’s, and he knows those start around dinner time so Eddie’s got several hours of alcohol in him. It’s 11:34 pm and Buck got off work at 10:45, another thing, so it’s a toss up whether Eddie timed the call to when he was walking through the door (a feat possible after years of going back and forth between the station, the loft, and the Diaz house at all times of day and night) or if it’s just a drunken coincidence.

“Hello,” Buck answers the phone, dragging out the first half of the word, tossing his keys into the bowl on the counter.

“Buck,” Eddie says, voice bright and not very slurred, but he’s only said one word so far, and Buck sometimes secretly thinks he could probably say his name pretty steadily no matter the situation. Buck is pretty sure he could be all drunk or half dead and still be able to say Eddie just fine, anyway. “Hello. Are you home from, did you get home from work?”

Ah, so, somewhat drunk then. “Did indeed. You still at the Wilsons?”

“Did you, uh- was there fire?” Eddie sounds like he’s trying very hard to sound normal. Buck bites his lip against a snort.

“No fires. Just a half shift, remember. Pretty boring one, honestly.” I missed you probably isn’t fair to say, Buck covered the shift of his own volition, he could have been at wine night if he really wanted. But Donovan’s sister had a baby, what was he gonna do, not let the guy meet his niece? “Hope you had a better time.”

“Great time,” Eddie says, enthusiastic. “They had, uh, mini quiches.”

Buck grins at the empty room. “You’re a man who loves a mini quiche.”

A few seconds of whooshy silence where Buck assumes Eddie is nodding enthusiastically. “The- uh- they had the bacon kind. The kind, and with the- you know, there’s spinach? Can we go to Costco?”

“Sure,” Buck agrees, opening his admittedly pretty sparsely populated fridge. “Could use a grocery run.”

“And get the, get more quiches?”

Buck grabs a protein bar, smiling as fondly as he wants to with no one around to see him. “Yeah, Eds, we’ll get more quiches.”

“And you’ll take the spinach ones? And I get the good ones?”

Buck laughs. “The spinach ones are good. You can barely even taste the spinach, they’re just, like, warm and eggy.”

“Mmm,” Eddie says, doubtfully. “It’s not nice to lie, Buckley.”

“I’m not fucking lying,” Buck cackles. “Your spinach hatred is so unfair, what’d it ever do to you?”

“Taste bad,” Eddie says, adding a blegh sound for emphasis. “It’s like- like- it’s gross, I don’t believe you actually like it, actually. You just want to eat grown up food.”

Buck snorts. “Man, I hate to break it to you, we both turn 34 this year.”

“And I don’t feel like I have to prove that to anybody by eating nasty food,” Eddie says, nose definitely in the air. Buck shakes his head and takes a bite of the protein bar.

“Whatever, man. You just have to live with the fact that Chris is the one sneaking vegetables into your food.”

“You’re so mean. I’m not letting you have any of my actually good quiches.” Empty threat, they always end up sharing, both of them know it. “That’s not even what I called about. That’s not even-“ Eddie huffs so hard it sounds all crackly in Buck’s ear. “I called to tell you that I love you.”

Buck grins. Oh boy, affectionate drunk Eddie is here. He’d wondered just how much wine they’d got through and it seems like Eddie must be nearly a bottle in. “Aw, love you too, bud.”

“No,” Eddie says, and Buck can see the frown from here. “Buck. Listen. I’m in love with you.”

Oh. God. Oh god. “Uh-“ Buck says, stomach swooping all over the fucking place, “Uh- I don’t think this is a conversation we should be having while you’re-“

“Oh, fuck off, shut up. Shut up. It’s fine.”

“Eddie-”

“Buck,” Eddie says, in the annoyed voice he uses when Buck is trying to get him to eat yogurt with his fruit in the morning, or even a dastardly spinach quiche. “It’s fine. It’s fine. I knew you’d- why- stop it. Listen. I feel like this all the time. It’s stupid that I’ve never, like, I never just say this all the time. You’re, like-”

Eddie cuts himself off and Buck waits — sort of fearfully — for him to continue, but the silence keeps stretching on. Buck knows the other side effect of this level on the Eddie Diaz Drunkenness Scale is heightened distractibility, so he probably noticed a nice color or perhaps a bug. They spent a good twenty minutes hanging out with a grasshopper at Hen and Karen’s wedding towards the end of the night, because it was a lovely shade of green and a funny little guy. Oh god, Buck thinks again. I love this man. I love this man a ridiculous amount and we should absolutely wait to talk about it.

But: “You’re tall and you’re in my house,” Eddie says before Buck can do anything to stop him.

“I’m-” Buck glances around the loft. “Eds, I’m at my place.”

“What?” He sounds so indignant that Buck has to cover his mouth to hold a laugh in. “Why?”

“‘Cause I live here?”

“That’s stupid. You should live with me in my house.”

“Should I?” Buck asks, laugh escaping a little bit. “Also, wait, what does me being tall have to do with it?”

Eddie sighs, long and exasperated. “If you live with me you never have to go home and leave me because you’re already at my house. Your house. If you live with me you never have to go anywhere.”

“Never have to go anywhere?” Buck thinks he’s in shock, maybe, about all of this, but teasing Eddie is something that’s always easy to fall into. “I don’t have a job in this scenario?”

“Well you’d go to work. And other places. But you just come back to me all the time.”

“I’d like to come back to you all the time,” Buck says, choking a little on how simply it explains every ache in him. “Eddie-“

“And you’re tall because… it matters because you’re tall because…” Eddie’s voice is soft, his breathing is soft. Buck wonders where he is in Hen and Karen’s house. In a hallway, tucked away from everyone, the nice light from the stained glass lamp they have there warm on his face? On the back porch, out in the cool night air? Buck wants to tell him to come home, wants to make sure he’s warm. “I never had to look up at anybody before.”

“I’ve got like two inches on you,” Buck replies, but his voice is pretty quiet.

“It’s a big two inches,” Eddie says, just as soft. Then, also quiet but of an entirely different flavor, “That's- Sorry- that's what she said.”

“That's-” Buck snorts. “What-” and then giddy laughter bursts up out of him, baking soda and vinegar, foamy and ticklish. He cackles till he’s breathless, listening to Eddie’s responding chuckles over the line, and sinks down to the floor, back against the kitchen island. “You’re so fucking stupid.”

“I scored better on my certification exams than you.”

“That’s not even true!” Buck protests over Eddie’s continuing laughter. “Only in two categories!”

“Overall percentage was higher!” Eddie reminds him, as he does every time they have this argument.

“Well, I remember building construction and related hazards better than you and that’s written down on official paper somewhere.”

“Not fair,” Eddie says, as he always says. “You- you did- you built those. Unfair advantage.”

“I think you’re overselling the kind of experience I got in a few months working construction like a decade ago.”

“It wasn’t a decade when you took the tests,” Eddie points out. “Whatever. Nevermind. And I don’t want to sound like- you’re good at remembering things. You’re not stupid. I don’t want to sound like you are.”

Buck taps his boot against the sink counter in front of him. “I know. You’re not either.”

“I know,” Eddie says, soft again. “But your hands are big, and… you’ve got stubble sometimes, and…” he trails off into just breathing on the other end of the line for several long moments. “Buck,” Eddie whispers in sleepover voice. “Have you ever kissed a boy before?”

“Yeah,” Buck says, knowing Eddie knows this, but playing along anyway. “I have.”

“What's it like?”

Buck hums, closes his eyes. He thinks about the few guys he’d made out with but never followed home when he got to Los Angeles. Thinks about the room he’d crashed in with Connor in Peru, with it’s one mattress and both their clothes living in suitcases because they were too broke to buy any other furniture. He’s still got a t-shirt for a school he never went to, a few sizes too small. The way they hadn’t shared a room once they were in LA, the girls Connor started seeing. He thinks about John from the ranch who left town the next day. He thinks about high school, Len McGuinty under the bleachers in the summer before senior year, both of them giggling and half terrified and the way they’d pretended to barely know each other when school started back up. Hard jawlines and stubble and muscles and height. Having something, for however long you get to have it. Wanting something, very badly. He opens his eyes and it’s almost a surprise that he’s still in the loft. That he’s not at Eddie’s house. All the time in the world there wouldn’t be enough. “It’s good, Eddie. It feels good.”

“Buck,” Eddie breathes, shivery.

“I want to live in your home all the time, and never have to go anywhere,” Buck says, repeats. “I’ll kiss you, if you want.”

“Buck-”

“I’ll love you, if you want.” Eddie is still drunk, Buck tries to remind himself. But it might actually kill him not to say it out loud when Eddie had said he feels like this all the time. How could he not say he feels like this all the time, too? “I’ll love you back. I love you back. I’ll eat all the spinach quiches for you.”

“Buck,” Eddie says, and Buck doesn’t know what expression is on his face, doesn’t know what look is tied to this tone of voice. Is desperate to find out. Quiet down the line for a few moments. And then: “It’s late.”

Buck pulls his phone away from his ear for a second to check the time. Nearly midnight. “Yeah.” His hands feel clammy. It was too much. They should have waited to talk. Eddie wants out now, and that’s fine. Buck will —somehow, skin of his teeth — find a way to be fine with that.

But: “I want to go home,” Eddie says. “Buck. Come and take me home.”

“And then-”

“And then stay.”

“Okay,” Buck gets to his feet, tosses the half eaten bar in the trash. Eddie’s house has food. His home has things to eat.

“Okay,” Eddie says, confident now, everything decided, everything for sure. “I’ll see you soon.

“Minutes,” Buck says, grabbing his keys, half running to the door. “I’ll be there in minutes.”

“Minutes,” Eddie says back. And Buck can hear his smile.

[fastandcarlos]

Personal Hairdresser : ̗̀➛ Lance Stroll

summary: you finally get the chance to play with lance’s hair and you’re determined to make the most of it

The empty space beside you brought a huff from you, expecting Lance to be there beside you, you were instead greeted by a cold space, leaving you disappointed. Much of the day was already gone, but with you opting to work the late shift you were desperate for rest regardless of what time of day it was.

You stretched your arms up into the air to try and wake yourself up a bit, rubbing your eyes to try and shake off the remaining feeling of sleep. Just outside of the room you could hear some banging and clattering around, not even wanting to imagine what carnage Lance was getting up to around your apartment. You went to shout for him, but your voice was still groggy, so instead you reached across and took your phone out from under your pillow.

Lance’s contact was number one as you pressed it and hoped he’d answer your call.

“Hey sleepyhead,” his familiar voice softly spoke as he answered, “how are you feeling? Bit better now you’ve had a bit of a rest.”

“Why did you leave me?” You groaned, running your free hand through your messy hair. Lance could only chuckle at the desperation in your voice, letting him know that you were still pretty sleepy too.

“I had some things to do,” he chuckled, “we can’t all sleep all day.”

“Hey, some of us have work to do,” you murmured, pulling the duvet even further around your frame. “Everything hurts Lance, I swear this feeling in my stomach better be my period arriving otherwise you’re gonna have to fast track me to hospital like the roads are a formula one track.”

A frown formed on Lance’s face as he listened to you, heart breaking at your anguish. “I’m sorry that it’s hurting love, do you need me to get you anything? I was going to go to the gym and try and get a quick session in, but I can stay here with you instead. I managed to get all my other jobs done whilst you slept,” Lance informed you. He was desperate to get everything sorted so that when you were awake, he was able to place his undivided attention all on you.

You thought for a moment before finding the energy to respond, “I think all that I want is you right now.”

“I can definitely do that,” Lance smiled, moving around the living room and tidying the last few little bits up so that it was exactly how you liked it.

“You know where I am to come and do that.”

“Can’t we stay on the phone?” Lance teased.

Your scoff was so loud that he managed to hear you from the other room.

“I hate you,” you muttered under your breath.

Lance chuckled at your response, “I’m only messing with you babe, I’m coming.”

As soon as your bedroom door opened the expression on your face softened. Lance dropped his phone into his pocket before closing the door behind him and making his way across to you where you laid impatiently.

You shuffled over slightly so that there was enough room for Lance to sit down beside you, brushing his hands through your hair before tracing a delicate trail of kisses along your jawline and against your mouth.

What captures Lance’s attention the most though is the mess of your hair, how some strands have fallen in front of your face, how other strands have knotted together where you’ve tossed and turned, or how some have beads of sweat attached from where you’ve ended up getting too hot whilst you rested.

And the feeling of Lance’s eyes looking at your hair soon made you feel unsettled. “There’s a hairband in my top drawer, I can tie it all back out of the way.”

Lance’s smile dropped into a frown as he realised what he had accidentally done. “No, I didn’t mean it for that love, your hair is fine,” Lance assured you, opening up the drawer and taking the band out of it anyway.

“What are you doing with that then?"

Lance twirls the band between his fingertips a few times before stretching it out and closing it again, he pretends to aim it a few times at you to flick it but quickly stops himself when he meets the fear in your eyes. “These could do some serious damage, how are these not classes as a weapon?” He chuckles to himself, surprised at the resistance in the band. You just stay where you are, watching in disbelief as something so simple ends up fascinating him to no end. There had been plenty of them scattered around his apartment over the years, but Lance had never quite realised how important they were to you, or how strong they really were to hold your hair up so well.

But he’d only seen yours.

You can see him thinking, poking against his arm to capture his attention. “Want to tell me what’s making you smile like that?”

Lance glances across at you, “would you be uncomfortable if I laid down here?”

Lance pointed to the gap between your legs, looking at you with a hopeful grin on his face. You immediately began to worry about what his attentions were, knowing him too well.

It didn’t take long for Lance to realise what it was that you were thinking too. “I’m not going to sleep with you baby, I just thought you might want to try something out.”

“I-I knew that,” you stuttered, trying to brush Lance off, but his eyes rolled, knowing he had read you and that mind of yours perfectly.

Lance moves from where he was sat, positioning himself between your legs and leaning himself back. “I can’t believe you think of me like that.”

You allow Lance to lower himself back, resting your hands against his shoulders to make sure he lays himself in a spot that is comfortable enough for you too. Meanwhile, his hands reach up and brush through his hair.

Slowly you begin to pick up on the hints that Lance has dropped, understanding why he had decided to lay there. “Are you really giving me the chance to play with your hair? You’ve turned me down every time I’ve asked for years.”

Lance nodded nervously, “I’m trusting you, which is very brave of me to do.”

You moved your hands, beginning to brush through the volume of Lance’s hair, “I’m so glad you decided to grow this out now.” Whilst you begin to entertain yourself with Lance’s hair, he picks out his phone from his pocket and begins to read through some of the messages he’s been sent. He’s used to having his hair messed with, despite stubbornly telling people on shoots that his hair is fine, they still protest and use their products to make sure that Lance’s hair looks as good as it possibly can.

Your touch is surprisingly gentle for Lance, you carefully scoop the strands up and twirl the hairband around them. On the odd occasion you pull too hard, he hisses, before assuring you that he doesn’t mind a little bit of pain.

Lance stuns himself with how comfortable he is, almost relaxing into your touch too much, feeling himself having to fend off the urge to go to sleep.

Eventually your attempt is complete. You’ve taken as much of Lance’s hair as you can, tying it into a small ponytail at the top of his head. You couldn’t help but proudly smile at what you had done, although you weren’t sure whether Lance would be as big of a fan of your masterpiece.

“You look amazing,” you chuckled, letting Lance know that you had finished with him.

Straight away he turned the camera of his phone onto himself, keen to see what you’d done. A snigger came from him as he lifted the phone up to see the little bun that you had tied to the top of his hair, loose strands sticking out in all directions where they had either slipped out or hadn’t quite been long enough to reach the band. Lance shakes his head, but you know deep down from his expression that he’s mightily impressed.

Behind him, you’re struggling to hold back your own laughter, impressing yourself with how well it had actually turned out. Lance’s free hand reaches up and brushes his hand over the bun a couple of times. It’s thicker than he imagined, and surprisingly suits him more than he had imagined too. He didn’t want to quite compliment the job you had done, worried that messing with his hair would become a regular occurrence.

“What do you think to showing this to the stylist next time you have a shoot at work?” You proposed, telling just from his shift in posture that Lance’s eyes had widened. “You might start a bit of a trend amongst drivers, I’d go as far to say as you’re not far enough managing to get yourself a manbun here Stroll.”

Lance finally takes the chance to tilt his head and look back at you, his expression full of disbelief. “Something tells me that it might be a little bit tricky for me to be able to put a helmet on if I’ve got this sticking out of the top of my head, I’ll end up ripping half of my hair out or something love.”

As you study Lance, your mind is beginning to fill with all sorts of ideas as to what you could do with him. He could tell your mind was hard at work as he watched you, Lance was slightly fearful as to what came next. However, after hearing your groggy voice earlier, he knew it was worth it to finally be able to see you smile again and hear that cheeriness in your voice that he was so fond of.

You found yourself unable to take your eyes from Lance, he’d hate you for saying it, but he looked cute. Adorable, in fact. “Stop,” he spoke, making you jump. Your smile was only getting bigger which made him sense that more danger was on its way, particularly after he had offered to let you play with his hair.

“I can’t take you seriously like this,” you admitted, reaching to where you had left your phone and opening up the camera. Lance reluctantly smiled as you told him to, snapping a photo of him with his hair still upright, the stubble on his face finishing the look off perfectly for you.

“Is this it? Can I take it out now?” Lance hopefully asked, only to have that snatched away from him when your head shook. You’d managed to get most of his hair in one band, but you were sure that you could do a little bit better.

With one quick movement you took the band out of Lance’s hair let it fall in all sorts of directions around his head.

You turned Lance’s head around so that he was facing the other way again, using your fingertips to part it so that it sat perfectly on either side of his head. “Do I even want to ask what you’re doing?” Lance enquired, catching you reaching for another hairband out of the corner of his eye.

There was a moment before you spoke, wanting to find the perfect answer to catch Lance out. “You don’t need to worry bub, I’m just making you look even more handsome then you already do.”

“What are you trying to say? That I’m not handsome enough.”

“I mean…” you trailed off, “there’s always room for improvement.” In response, Lance reached back as best as he could and tickled against your waist. It took you by surprise as you flinched, accidentally kicking your leg into the small of his back as you tried to move him away. His hair slipped out of your hands as you moved back, letting Lance fall back slightly which made him stop.

You groaned as you tried to recompose yourself again, “what did I even do for you to be so mean to you?”

“You said I wasn’t handsome enough,” Lance huffed as you returned to your job and started to fix Lance’s hair back up again. “This is the point when you tell me that’s not true.”

“Hang on,” you spoke, tying one half of his hair into a hairband, before taking the hair on the other side of his head and tying that up into another band. “Now you’re handsome enough,” you smiled as you moved back and admired your handiwork again, knowing Lance would never quite know how to react to it.

“Babe,” he sighed as he grabbed his phone once again and noticed the two buns now on the top of his head. Lance turned himself around so that he was now facing you, pressing a kiss against your lips. “No one at work would ever take me seriously again if they saw me looking like this.”

“Really? Cause I don’t think you’ve ever looked better,” you couldn’t help but tease.

“At least everyone will know what a nice boyfriend I am if they see that I’ve done this,” Lance tried to reason, searching for a way to make himself feel better.

You hummed in agreement with him as you fixed a few of the strands that weren’t quite where you wanted them to be. “Everyone knows how good of a boyfriend you are, you trend more for your loving gestures then you do for your performances on the track these days. You’re the driver that all the teenage girls wish they could date, that’s got to count for something?”

Lance didn’t tend to involve himself with that side of things too much, but you loved to tease him about it whenever you got the chance.

Some people weren’t particularly fond of others commenting and gushing over their partner’s on social media, but you on the other hand, adored it. You loved knowing that the guy they spoke about was the guy that you got to go home with at night. Or how behind closed doors Lance managed to prove those people wrong – many would never expect Lance to let someone play with his hair, how wrong they were.

“You’re the best,” you suddenly spoke, taking Lance by surprise too as he took a hold of both of your hands.

“Where did that suddenly come from?” He questioned, searching to meet your eyes as he waited for your answer.

“Nowhere, it’s just the truth."

The two of you sat in a comfortable silence for a while, as embarrassed as Lance wanted to be that he sat with his hair in space buns, he wasn’t. It was a memory that he would hold onto, mostly because of the smile that was on your face. Knowing that you had enjoyed messing around with Lance was by far the most important thing to him.

You snapped a couple more pictures of Lance, moving to take the hairbands out of his hair, only for him to stop you. His grip wasn’t tight, but it was strong enough to move your hands down back into your lap. Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion, but Lance sat proudly in front of you, almost as if to tell you that he was happy for his hair to be left as it was for a little while longer.

You continued to stare for a few moments, expecting Lance to change his mind, but he didn’t. He sat with the same smile on his face, knowing that he had left you in a state of utter bemusement. “You actually don’t mind this?” You eventually asked, finally allowing your smile to reappear. “Does this mean that I’ll get to play with your hair more often now?”

He hated to admit it, he hated to give you the satisfaction, but Lance had surprisingly found it all very relaxing. Now he got it. He got why you always asked him to play with your hair whenever you weren’t feeling yourself.

“I guess I wouldn’t mind if you did it again.”

“I knew it!”

Lance’s head shook, “you really are impossible sometimes.”

˗ˏˋ 𝐌𝐀𝐒𝐓𝐄𝐑𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓 ! ´ˎ˗

[theemporium]

“Oh, fuck.” 

It was a week out until the next full moon, and he was already starting to feel angsty. 

The day had been dreadfully long. From the early morning start to nosy colleagues and stupid office drama, all leading up to the fact he wasn’t able to get lunch until an hour before his shift even ended. It was safe to say that Remus was just done with the day.

When he had finally managed to escape the office, he was ready to just shove whatever quick meal he could make before falling face first into bed to enjoy a long lie in before his day off tomorrow. He hadn’t even gotten the chance to call you today during his break, and he kicked himself a little knowing that you’d probably be asleep by the time he arrived home. 

But you weren’t. And you weren’t in your own apartment either. 

You were here. You were here and you were sprawled on his bed, dressed in some lacy number that he definitely did not remember you owning before. You were here and every exhausting thought in his head was long gone when his pretty girlfriend was waiting for him with a knowing look and a sweet smile. 

“Welcome home, baby,” you said to him, propped up on the mattress on your elbows. “Rough day?”

“You…” Remus trailed off, letting out a breathless laugh. “You’re a fucking menace.” 

“I thought you liked trouble, Moony,” you said in a teasing voice. 

“Don’t call me that,” Remus said, shaking his head as his eyes wandered down your figure. “Not when you’re dressed like that.” 

“No?” You raised a brow. 

“How did you…” he trailed off, still shaking his head in disbelief as he took a step closer to you. 

“Spare key,” you answered before you nodded towards the bedside table. “I thought you could use some…relief after I didn’t hear from you today. Thought I could give my boy a little surprise.” 

“Love—” he started but you continued. 

“And you should know better than to think you can hide from me,” you said as you shot him a look. “We’ve been dating for three years, Remus. I know how you get before a full moon. And I know what makes you feel better. Stop pulling away. Stop pushing me out.” 

“I don’t mean to,” he whispered, a little sheepish as he shrugged his jacket off and kicked his shoes off too. “I’m just—”

“I know,” you reassured him as you reached for his hand and pulled him towards you. “And I know what else makes you feel better,” you continued with a sparkle in your eyes. “Chocolate.” 

He paused. “Chocolate?” 

You grinned. “Chocolate.” 

The lacy number was ripped to shreds on the bedroom floor, your body was arching off the mattress and Remus had never been more glad to have the next day off. 

“Merlin,” he groaned, his head ducking down to lick the dribble of melted chocolate that dripped between your tits. “Why have we never done this before?” 

“Remus,” you breathed out, aimlessly trying to tug yourself free but his hand kept your wrists pinned above your head. “Please.” 

“Nuh uh, honey,” Remus murmured, lips brushing against your skin as he kissed along your skin before licking a long stripe up your stomach. “Gotta keep you still. Thought you wanted to make me feel better?” 

“I do,” you whined, nodding your head.

“You gonna let me fuck you, baby?” Remus taunted, his eyes darkening as he took in your flushed cheeks and glossy eyes. “Gonna let me taste that pretty cunt of yours? Bet it tastes better than the chocolate.” 

“Remus,” you cried out, squirming beneath him. “Please—”

“I know,” he cooed, throwing your words back at you. “Gonna take care of you, gonna fuck you, gonna make us both feel so fucking good.” 

.

[asbealthgn]

(based on this post. it ended up longer + less lighthearted than i anticipated)

The ding as the microwave timer finishes lines up perfectly with a frantic pounding on the front door, and it makes Steve jump. 

He just got home from the championship game twenty minutes ago. Now he’s heating up a TV dinner because he forgot to eat beforehand. He spends about one and a half seconds dithering over whether he should get the tray out of the microwave before or after answering the door, but the pounding has only gotten louder. So he leaves it where it is.

“Alright, I’m coming,” he mutters as he heads for the front door. “Goddamn.”

When he opens the door he barely even has time to process that it’s Eddie before the other man is tumbling inside, jetting out of sight back towards the kitchen.

“Eds?” Steve calls after him, shutting the door and locking it. “What’s wrong?”

There’s no answer. Back in the kitchen, Steve can’t see Eddie at first. Then he hears the shallow breathing coming from under the table. Steve leans over and sees Eddie curled up there, arms wrapped tight around his knees, eyes wild. 

“Baby, what happened?” Steve asks. He gets on the floor and crawls under the table, pushing a chair out of the way so he can sit next to Eddie. He wraps his arms around Eddie’s shoulders, pulling him in. Eddie’s shaking like crazy and as he leans into Steve, his shallow breaths turn into sobs. 

At a loss for what else he can do, Steve strokes Eddie’s hair, murmuring soothing things in his ear. He doesn’t know what caused this, but he’ll do everything he can to make it better. Eventually, Eddie’s sobbing subsides and his breathing evens out. He’s still shaking, but this is progress.

He lifts his head and looks at Steve. His eyes are puffy and red, cheeks streaked with tears. Steve brushes them away, tucking a lock of Eddie’s hair behind his ears. “Can you tell me what happened, sweetheart?” he asks softly, “It’s okay if you don’t want to.”

“I—” Eddie says, eyes welling up again. “I don’t—” He shakes his head sharply.

“Shhh, it’s okay,” Steve says, “You don’t have to.”

Eddie shakes his head again and takes a shuddery breath. “I don’t understand what happened,” he says, voice strained. “It was like—shit from a movie. It shouldn’t be possible.”

Something about that is a cold drop of fear in Steve’s belly. Impossible things that happen in Hawkins are never short of catastrophic.

“What was it?” he asks. 

“She—she started lifting and—and breaking—”

“Who?”

“Chrissy,” Eddie whispers, voice tiny and fragile. 

Steve rubs a hand up and down his arm, trying to transfer comfort through his fingertips. “Cunningham?”

Eddie nods. Steve sort of knew Chrissy when he was still in school, only because she was on the cheer squad so they ran in similar circles. He thought she was sweet, but didn’t really know her that well other than that. He definitely didn’t know that she and Eddie knew each other.

“So—” Steve shifts. “When you say breaking—”

Eddie lets out a distressed sound, somewhere between a whimper and a sob. “I don’t know how else to explain it,” he croaks, shaking his head. “It was like someone was pulling on her, lifting her up, and—I don’t know how, Steve, because there was nothing touching her but she just lifted off the ground and then—all her bones—”

He cuts off as the tears take over again. Steve holds him tight as he cries, his own dread pooling in his stomach. This definitely sounds like some Upside Down shit. He needs Dustin, or Robin. Someone who can investigate this and figure out what’s happening. But for now, Steve can hold his boyfriend, do what he can to help. 

When Eddie’s breathing starts evening out, he lifts his head off Steve’s shoulder. “The cops—they’re gonna think I did it,” he whispers, “I—I don’t know what to do, I don’t—”

“Eds, breathe,” Steve says, running his fingers through his hair. “You’re safe here. No one knows we’re together, so they won’t come looking for you here. You can hide out here until we can clear your name.”

“But—how is that even possible?” Eddie asks, eyes wide. “What happened��no one will believe me. I don’t know why the fuck you even believe me.”

Steve nods. “I can’t really explain it, like, literally, I don’t know how to, but this kind of thing has sort of happened before,” he says. He takes Eddie’s hand and squeezes it. “There are people who are smarter than me who can help. I promise.”

Eddie keeps watching him with those big eyes. 

“Do you trust me, Eds?” Steve asks softly. After a moment, Eddie nods. Steve smiles. “Good,” he says. He kisses Eddie’s forehead. “We’ll figure it out.”

After a while, he coaxes Eddie out from under the table and sends him upstairs to change into pajamas. Steve takes Eddie’s keys and goes outside to pull his van into the garage. Dad’s car is currently at the airport, so there’s an empty space. If this is still going on when his parents get home in three weeks then he’ll just have to figure something else out. 

Back inside, he spares another second and a half’s thought to the TV dinner still languishing in the microwave. It’ll have to wait. His boy is more important. 

He takes the stairs two at a time, only slowing when he hits his room so he can ease the door open. Eddie is in bed, curled up under the covers, staring blankly at the wall. Steve changes quickly into pajamas and then gets in bed next to Eddie, pulling him into his arms. 

“You’re safe, Eds,” he murmurs against Eddie’s hair. “I promise.” 

The problem is, he can’t really promise anything. If the Upside Down is open again, Steve can’t guarantee anyone’s safety. He thought it was over, that the gate was closed for good when Joyce blew up the Russian machine. He thought he could keep Eddie away from this dark and twisted world. But if Eddie has to be dragged into it, then Steve will do everything he can to make Eddie feel safe. 

They fall asleep clinging tight to each other, like maybe it’ll stave off the shadows.

“Hey!” 

Steve looks away from the TV at Family Video to see Dustin and Max barging through the door. “Steve,” Dustin says as they approach the counter.

“Did you guys see this?” Steve asks, gesturing to the TV. He’s not sure he can reveal how much he actually knows without revealing how he knows it, but it’s definitely important to get the kids aware that the Upside Down could be involved.

“How many phones do you have?” Dustin asks, completely ignoring the news broadcast. 

“Someone was murdered,” Steve says. 

Dustin gives him an exasperated look. “How many phones do you have?” he repeats.

The hell is this about? “Uh, two,” Steve says, glancing at Robin. She looks just as lost as he feels. “Why?”

“Technically three if you count Keith’s in the back,” she adds.

Max and Dustin share a significant look. “Yeah, three works,” Max says.

Nodding, Dustin slings his backpack off his shoulder and plops it on the counter. Steve frowns. “What are you doing?” he asks just as Dustin shoves the backpack hard, sending it tumbling to the floor inside the counter along with several tapes. “Whoa, what are you—”

“My pile!” Robin shouts as they back away and Dustin launches himself over the counter.

“No, no, no, no, no!” Steve says, throwing his hands up as Dustin’s feet knock over another stack of tapes. “Not my tapes!” Dustin completely ignores him, heading straight for the computer. “Dude! What are you doing, man?”

“Setting up base of operations,” Dustin says matter-of-factly, typing away on the keyboard.

“Base of operations?” Robin asks as Max joins them behind the counter, having gone the long way around.

“Stop,” Steve tells Dustin, “Get off of that.”

Dustin doesn’t budge. “No,” he says, “I need it.”

“Need it for what?”

“Looking up Eddie’s friends' phone numbers.”

Steve’s stomach drops. What the hell does he know about Eddie? Why does he need to get in touch with his friends? Shit, Max lives across from Eddie at the trailer park. Maybe she saw something. Maybe they think Eddie’s guilty.

“Seriously, guys,” Robin says, collecting tapes and rearranging them on the counter. “Maybe on a Monday you can play around in here like toddlers, but it’s Saturday. It’s our busiest day.”

“Alright, look, Robin,” Dustin says, putting up a finger in her direction but not turning around. “I totally empathize but this cannot wait until Monday.”

“What, ‘cause calling all of Eddie’s friends is an emergency?” Robin asks. 

“Correct!” Dustin says. 

Shit shit shit. What do they know? Steve needs to get them the hell out of here before they decide to go calling the cops on Eddie.

“Do you want me to strangle them or do you want to do that?” Steve asks Robin, trying to distract himself from his panic.

She grins at him. “We could take turns.”

Dustin turns to Max. “Can you just fill them in while I do this?”

“Fill us in on what?” Robin asks. She and Steve both turn to look at Max, who sighs. 

“We think there might be something going on with the Upside Down,” she says. 

Steve feels Robin’s hand shoot out and lock around his wrist. He glances at her and sees the panic on her face. Weirdly, all he feels is relief. So Max and Dustin’s investigation is about the Upside Down, not about accusing Eddie. That’s definitely positive, all things considered.

Max glances at Dustin and then back at Steve and Robin. “The murder happened right across the street from me,” she says, “The girl that got murdered was Chrissy Cunningham, and I saw her going in with Eddie. Honestly, he might be guilty, but the lights were flickering around when it would have happened. And when he left, he looked terrified.”

Yeah, Steve can vouch for that. Who wouldn’t be?

“So, we’re trying to track down Eddie to find out what really happened,” Max says, gesturing to Dustin. “We need to use your system and your phones to call around and see if anyone’s heard from him.”

Steve swallows. “Uh, that might not be necessary,” he says. 

“I know you have a weird vendetta against him,” Dustin says, not looking away from the computer as he keeps typing, “But it is imperative that we find Eddie immediately.”

“No, I get that,” Steve says, sighing. “I’m saying I know where he is.”

Dustin stops typing and turns around. “What?” he asks, looking dumbfounded. “How?”

Steve scratches the back of his neck. No taking it back now, he guesses. “He, uh, came to my house last night,” he says, “That’s where he went after Max saw him leave.”

“Did he tell you what happened?” Max asks.

“Sort of,” Steve says, “He was really upset, obviously, so he couldn’t really—”

Dustin waves his hands frantically. “Hold on, wait,” he says, shaking his head. “I thought you and Eddie didn’t even know each other. Now suddenly you’re close enough that he went to your house?”

“Long story?” Steve offers weakly.

Robin nudges him with her elbow and gives him a significant look. “One that I would really like to hear,” she hisses. Okay, so she’s on to him. Maybe that’s not so surprising; they basically share a brain. And he came out to her a few months ago, so the pieces are all there. 

At the very least, the kids accept that Steve and Eddie know each other and abandon their ridiculous scheme to call all of Eddie’s friends. They want to go to Steve’s house right away to talk to Eddie, but Steve refuses to drive them until his and Robin’s shift is over. They threaten to bike there, but Steve eventually manages to convince them that there’s no way in hell Eddie is opening the door for anyone. 

So once their shift wraps up, Steve, Robin, and the kids bundle into the Beemer so he can take them back to his house. He’s apprehensive about this, not sure exactly how Eddie will react. But he knows Dustin well and will probably recognize Robin and Max by sight, so surely he’ll know Steve didn’t bring strangers around. Right?

He parks in the driveway on the off chance that someone drives by at the exact wrong moment and sees Eddie’s car in the garage. Urging the others to be gentle, Steve unlocks the front door. 

“Eddie!” he calls, not wanting to worry him with the sound of the door. “It’s me!”

“Hi!” Eddie’s voice calls from the kitchen, sounding significantly less distressed than he did this morning. “Baby, did you know you left a TV dinner in the microwave?”

He appears in the entryway looking soft and a little rumpled in a pair of Steve’s sweatpants and a green crewneck. His eyes widen in surprise and horror as he sees the others, but their heads have all snapped to look at Steve. Dustin’s eyes in particular are bugging out of his skull.

“Did he just call you baby?”

[bobafetts-princess]

Stranger and the Bear Pt2

Summary: Logan has literally tossed your ex out of the bar and taken you upstairs to your apartment. Sexy stuff follows 👀👀

Pairings: Logan Howlett x Fem!Reader

Word count: 2.3k

Warnings: Smut. Lots of it. Oral (both receiving). PiV. Condoms don’t exist on this blog (use them irl, pls). Hair pulling, Logan talks dirty. God I want him to blow my back out.

A/N: If you’ve seen this on ao3, I’m the same person! I have Logan brain rot 😩

Pt. 1 can be found here!

“Thank you, Logan. I really mean that.” You said, trying to interject as much appreciation into your voice as possible.

“There’s nothing you need to thank me for,” Logan said, glancing over at you. You finished your first beer, getting up off the couch again to get another. You heard the couch shift and heard Logan ask where the trash can was but when you turned to tell him, he was right there. Logan was close enough that you were almost chest to chest, the only time you’ve ever been thankful for a small kitchen. He’s tall, definitely taller than you, and when you glance up at him you can see the desire in his features. You aren’t sure which one of you makes the first move, you just know that one second he’s in front of you and the next second his lips are on yours. Their softness surprises you, but the way he grabs at your body is anything but soft.

“God, please tell me you want this,” he groans, his lips sucking at a soft spot on your neck. “I’ve wanted this for weeks,” he says, large hand cupping your ass.

“I want this. I’ve thought about this so many times over the past couple months.” You admit, gasping at the feel of his mouth on your skin. And you had, countless nights you’d envisioned what he’d be like in your bed. Would he be rough? You thought so. Would he be vocal? Definitely, you felt like. Was he dominant? Did he like to pull hair? You definitely felt like your questions were going to be answered soon and you couldn’t wait.

“Fuck, Bear. I’ve thought about this so many times. Do you understand how much I've wanted to bend you over the bar top?” He told you, running his hands up and down your sides, kissing you in between his words.

“Me too.” You admitted, hot at the fact that he thought about you in that matter.

“You’re gonna look so fuckin’ good stuffed with my cock.” He said and his words made something hot shoot through your body as his hands worked their way into your hair, pulling your body against his. Vocal was definitely a yes. His lips seal over yours and you lean into him, hands on his strong shoulders.

“Fuck Bear,” He grunts, breaking the kiss to work his way down your neck. Suddenly, his hands grasp under your ass, lifting you and settling your core against his hardening length. You gasp, arching, and his lips find a sweet spot on your collarbone, making you groan. He walks through your apartment, but his legs were so long and your apartment was so small that it only took him four large strides to make it from the refrigerator to the bed where he laid you down. Your legs were still hooked around his hips, but he stood as straight as he could and looked down at you. His hand cupped your cheek and he slid it around to grasp your neck. "I'm gonna fuck you so good tonight." He promises and you shiver, grinding down on his cock through your combined sets of jeans.

His hands reach behind his back and unlock your legs from his hips, placing your feet on the floor. You whimpered at the loss of contact but Logan chided you.

“I gotta get these off, you impatient brat.” He said, his tone affectionate. He undoes the button on your jeans with a flick of his wrist. “And this,” He says, shifting the material of your top up. “As much as I love it, it’s gotta come off for all the things I’ve got planned for you.” His promises make you pant with need and excitement. His strong hands pull your jeans down your legs, admiring the little pink panties you had on. His fingers tug at the little bow on the front before his attention switches and he’s taking your top and bra off.

“God,” he says, cupping your breasts. “They’re as perfect as I thought they would be,” you flush and gasp when his rough fingers find your nipples and pinch. He takes his time worshipping your body, finding all the spots that made you arch, groan and let out breathy moans tainted with his name. His mouth works across your body, sucking on some spots and nibbling on others. His hands cup your breasts, his teeth pulling at your nipples and you found yourself already heading towards the edge. His hands finally work their way into your panties, covering the tips of his fingers with your slick before moving up to circle your clit. You gasp his name and he pulls back from your breast to look at you. “Can I take these off?” You nod and he strips you of them as he drops to his knees.

“What a pretty pussy,” he whispers, almost to himself as he presses two fingers inside you and It feels so good that you can’t even get a full sentence out. You need more but your words are stuck in your throat.

“Please,” you choke out, making Logan’s ears prick.

“Ask me again.” He demands.

“Please. Please more,” you tell him, voice stronger. His other hand comes down to touch your clit and you cry out his name.

“You like that, baby?”

“Fuck. Yes Logan.” You tell him, rocking your hips down on his fingers at a steady pace. He lets you take what you need, keeping the pressure steady. Fuck, you’re so close to the edge but you need something more. You don’t even have the chance to ask for more because Logan senses it. He shifts so one hand is inside you, one hand is pulling at your nipple, and then he leans down to give your pretty, neglected clit some attention.

“You’re going to taste so good,” he says before he leans down to get a taste. He groans before increasing his pace, pushing you closer and closer to the edge until you can’t hold off any longer. “Cum for me,” he tells you, “please,” and it’s his need to see you get off that finally pushes you over the edge. He works you through it, talking to you the entire time but everything sounds like you’re underwater so you couldn’t recall what he said even if you tried.

“Fuck.” He says once your breathing returns to normal, “you look so pretty when you come.” He kisses his way up your body before reaching your lips, this kiss full of passion and need. His clothes are still on and you make it a personal mission to get them off. You push the jacket down his shoulders, refusing to break the kiss. You toss it in a corner of the room before lowering your hands to work his belt buckle and jeans.

You get the belt off and the button popped, using your toes to get his jeans pushed down his well muscled thighs. He steps out of them, kiss becoming more rough and needy as he does. You slide your body off the bed, breaking the kiss, but when your hands go to pull off his underwear, you’re surprised to find he isn’t wearing any. He smirks at you then his pulls his white tank off, leaving him completely naked. You take a moment to enjoy the view, his hairy and well muscled body standing before you. You move and take Logan’s cock in your hand. He hisses through his teeth at your touch, his muscles rippling with restraint. He was thick. Thick thick. Not uncomfortably long, but definitely big enough to stuff you full. You take his head into your mouth, swallowing him down. His hands dig into your hair, the slight tug sending jolts down to your pussy.

“Ah. Fuck.” He grunts as you wrap your hands around him, swallowing his thickness inch by inch. “Fuck. That mouth is as good as I imagined.” He tells you, spurring you on. The hands surrounding him worked what you couldn’t fit in your mouth, eliciting more moans from him. You did your best to deep-throat him, going until you gagged. You started a good pace, taking as much of him in as you could, his hands in your hair encouraging you along. The longer you sucked, the rougher he got, pushing and pulling for you instead of with you. You loved it though, it turned you on. You let go, allowing Logan to work your mouth up and down his cock, hands stroking what you couldn’t fit. His grunts and growls became louder and louder as he raced towards his end but before you knew it, he was pulling you off. He grabs you by the elbow, roughly but carefully, and tosses you face down on the bed.

“As fuckin’ amazing as that mouth is, I wanna come inside this.” He said, two finger stroking down your pussy before plunging inside. He thrust into you roughly and you meet him stroke for stroke until he pulls out. You whined, close, but the head of his cock lined up with your entrance instead.


"Don't worry princess, you'll be full in jus' a second." He begins pushing inside, the stretch deliciously painful, Logan taking it slow so he doesn’t hurt you. He feeds you inch by inch until he bottoms out with a feral grunt.

“Fuck. Bear. This pussy will be the death of me.” He tells you, hand finding your hair and pulling you backward, asking if you were okay. When you tell him that you’re fine, you like it, he pulls a little harder. Your back arches, and he starts a rough pace, the angle allowing him deep with each thrust. You’re so keyed up already that it doesn’t take you long to reach the edge again. You reach between your legs to circle your clit, clamping down on Logan’s cock as the pleasure shoots through your body. “Fuck,” he grunts, “that’s right baby girl, touch your pretty pussy for me. I want to know what it feels like when you come all over my cock.” His words send you spiraling and you come again, crying out Logan’s name as you do.

When you come down, he let go of your hair and lets you fall naturally onto the bed, his hands digging into your hips as he holds you in place. He’s giving it to you, snarling his pleasure as he thrusts in and out of your ‘sweet pussy’ (his words).

Eventually he pulls out, flipping you over onto your back and sliding back in. One hand finds your breasts, pinching and pulling your nipples while the other finds the back of your neck, holding you in place so that he can kiss you as he fucks you. Your hands found his wrist instinctually, but you weren’t worried, you had a feeling that your stranger, your Logan, would never hurt you. His breathing is heavy in your ear as he sucks an earlobe into his mouth, biting down on the sensitive skin. It makes you gasp and tug at the hairs on the back of his neck, where your own hand was. His hips sputtered, his consistent pace breaking and you knew he was close. You fluttered your walls around him, and the hand that was around your neck moves to stroke your clit instead. You come undone for a third time, screaming your pleasure as you squeeze around him.

“Can I come inside you? Do you want me to pull out?” He asks and you think you’ll die if you don’t feel him coming inside you. So you tell him to come inside you and he groans, dropping his head to the curve of your shoulder.

He buries himself to the hilt and lets out an animalistic snarl as he reaches his end. His upper body collapses onto yours, his heavy build a nice pressure to ground you. He lays there for a moment, slowing his breathing until it was normal. He wraps both arms around your lower back, lifting the both of you as he locks his lips with yours. He starts the short walk to the bathroom and you wish it was longer because the man could KISS. He fumbles around the sink, grabbing the washcloth on the edge and running it under warm water, kiss never breaking and Logan never setting you down. He walks out of the bathroom, but turns, pressing your back up against the wall. He was still hard and you were still wet, so he slipped in easily and thrust lazily into you, never breaking the kiss.

“Fuck. This pussy is so good.” He says, thrusts becoming stronger and deeper as he finally broke the kiss. “I’m sensitive. I won’t last long.” He admits, teeth catching the shell of your ear as another orgasm built inside you.

“Me too.” Was all you could manage. His fingers plucked at your nipples and his teeth nibbled around where your shoulders and neck met. His thumb circles your clit, his thrusts hard and rough now, his hips moving at a relentless pace. Your orgasm hits with a vengeance and you clench hard against him, triggering his own orgasm. He roars, driving himself upwards and biting down on your shoulder, harder than any bite before this but god, it feels so good. Sated, he walks back to your bed, but he’s more exhausted than he’s letting on because once he lays you down gently, he collapses next to you.

“You okay?” He asks and your hand cups his cheek as he rolls to face you.

“I’m great,” you smile. “How about you?”

“Never been better,” and you get the feeling he’s being completely honest. After a few moments he takes the washcloth and wipes you clean, then himself and tosses it into the hamper.

He settles back in next to you, the both of you naked but Logan is warm and his natural heat wraps around you as he does. It doesn’t take long for the exhaustion to hit you and once Logan covers you up with the blankets, you’re quick to fall asleep. Logan, for the first time in years, sleeps soundly next to another human being.

[lafrexniere]

It was and is You - CL16 - part 1.

Note: First of an idea I had after Monza today, and didn't realize how long this would end up so it's going to be in three parts!

You had just gotten back from a run, feeling messages vibrating on your watch the whole time. When you arrived to the front of your apartment building you took a breath before stepping inside and looking through your phone. It was your three best friends in your group chat together discussing some vacation plan for you four to go on. 

Mila: We have to do this pleaseeeee

Allie: Italy sounds fun

Liv: Okay I’m in, where’s Y/N

There was some discussion about seeing some sporting event in Italy, and if Mila was organizing it was definitely racing. It was offseason for the four of you, and training was getting a little exhausting, the four of you needed a nice break from running, cycling and swimming in Switzerland, and it wasn’t skiing season. You had exhausted all of your summer activities. 

You: I’m going, definitely!

The four of you got on a call and booked your hotel rooms, and figured out splitting up the cost of the rental car and tickets for the weekend. It was Wednesday and you had to be there by Friday. You planned to leave tomorrow afternoon and arrive at the Hotel thursday night, you would split up the driving between you and Liv as you two were the ones not as into this F1 thing.

Thursday morning came and the four of you met at the rental car center. 

“Ahh there you are!” Mila exclaimed, pulling you all into one big group hug.

“To Monza!” Allie shouted throwing her fist in the air. You and Liv laughed at their excitement.

“I brought you two something,” she grinned at you and Liv. She pulled two red hats out of her purse and handed one to both of you.

“You both packed red right?” Allie said sternly.

“Yes of course,” you nodded.

“Yeah we got your thousand messages,” Liv rolled her eyes. The four of you explored the parking lot finding your car and loading it up with your bags.

“Do you want first shift?” Liv asked you.

“They are gonna be screaming the whole way either way, but sure” you smiled. You hopped in the car plugging the address of the hotel you had booked into the GPS system and were on your way. After a long way of driving hearing blah blah blah with the occasional giggle and squeal it was finally your turn to take a break and not get distracted by the stuff going on in the backseat. 

“So this whole race thing, why is it three days?” you asked. You shouldn’t have asked because it became a whole big long talk, you heard this and that about this person and a lot of mentions of Ferrari.

“Oh Y/N you are going to love it!” Allie said. 

“Sounds fun,” you said putting the hat you were given on. 

“And that’s where it stays,” said Mila cheering. You four continued the rest of your ride and finally after many karaoke songs later you had finally arrived at the Hotel. You four had gone up to your respective rooms and spent the night hanging out in Mila and Allie’s room. They were trying their best to educate you on the race and what was going to be happening during the weekend. You would be seeing a practice, qualifying, and the actual race itself. It was pretty easy to follow along with the more they explained, you even thought you would be able to talk about someone with it if they asked you, however you still knew nothing about the specific race or Ferrari. It was getting late and you and Liv went to your room.

Friday

You woke up early the next morning, before Liv, before Mila or Allie. You went to the elevator and went down to the lobby to get some coffee to clear your early morning headache. You were alone, somewhat sleepy in the elevator when it dinged and stopped. A man joined you in the elevator, there was something familiar about him. You exchanged a smile noticing that he was your type. You two stood awkwardly in the elevator until he broke the silence. 

“Nice hat,” he said.

“Oh thank you, it’s Ferrari,” you smiled before realizing the same logo was on his shirt, “sorry you know that already,” you laughed.

“You going to the race?” he asked.

“Yeah, it’s my first one, can you tell?”

“Maybe,” he laughed. 

“My friends pulled me into it for this weekend,”

“Well I’m sure you’ll have fun.” The elevator dinged and you were in the lobby. 

“Are you going too?” you said walking out beside him. He nodded.

“I’m getting coffee do you want one,” he asked.

“Sure,” the two of you sat down, he pulled the shirt he was holding on over his other shirt, and putting the hat he was carrying on as well. 

“What’s that for?” you asked.

“Oh nothing, maybe you’ll see?” he smiled. He began asking you some questions about yourself, but when you asked about him he gave vague answers.You knew one thing, his name, Charles. He realized the time and had to go after your conversation.

“Will I see you at practice today?” you smiled.

“Definitely,” he said rushing out of the hotel. You waved with a half smile at his abrupt leaving. You had felt that there was at least a little chemistry, but were also attracted to the mystery of him. You finished your cup of coffee and headed back up to your room, finding Liv, Mila, and Allie all waiting. 

“There you are Y/N, I was worried you had wandered off,” Liv said as you got back.

“Aww your wearing your hat, good,” Mila said.

“We would have been able to find you,” Allie said. 

“Relax I was just getting some coffee with this guy I met in the elevator,” you shrugged trying to pass it off as nothing.

“Guy, what guy?” Liv asked, as you began getting bombarded with a million questions that you couldn’t answer, you could only give his name. 

“No way, like Charles Leclerc,” Mila squealed.

“Who?” You asked.

“Oh my god you’ll see today, he’s so dreamy, Y/N if it was him you have to tell us, we have to meet him,” Allie chimed in.

“Omg stop, there gonna be delusional now,” Liv laughed. The four of you continued getting ready sporting your red hats. You had chosen a black skirt with a white tube top, and a sweatshirt just incase there was a breeze. The four of you were all somewhat matching and were off on your way to the track. You found your seats and there was cheering surrounding you as different drivers came on and off the track. There were screens lighting up showing you the parts of the track you couldn’t see from their seats.

“Wow they are fast, they didn’t look this fast in the videos,” Liv yelled over all the noise.

“Isn’t it cool,” Mila yelled back. You all nodded and tried your best to communicate with eachother. Practice had finished and you and your friends rushed down to some spot where you could possibly see the drivers. Mila and Allie wanted their hats signed. As drivers started rolling out you saw him, the same brooding eyes and dark hair from the morning, he noticed you in the crowd smiling at your screaming friends through the fence, Liv even took her hat off and started waiving it at him when she saw him. He came over and signed the three hats, asking Mila,

“Come on your friend doesn’t want her hat signed,” he smiled at you. You thought she was going to faint after he talked to her.

“Come on Y/N, hand it over,” she yelled at you. You took your hat off and handed it to Charles through the fence. Within a second he was done signing there’s but yours he took a bit longer on. He handed the hat back to you and winked.

“See you tomorrow - CL16” was written on the hat followed by a phone number. Your friends swarmed you trying to get a glimpse of what was on your hat, but you hid it quickly until you got back to the hotel. 

“Y/N Please,” they all begged and pleaded.

“Fine, but none of you can take the number,” you gave a strong look.

“Number?” Mila screamed. You turned the hat to show them what was written filling all of them with shock. You quickly turned it back after it had been almost enough time for them to memorize the number. 

“So are you getting coffee again,” Allie asked.

“I don’t know, honestly, but now I know why he was being so secretive,” you shrugged.

“Well you have to text him now,” Liv nudged you.

“I know I know,” you said hitting the air, to brush it off. The two of you talked about this the rest of your night, but made sure to kept your voices down in public. As the day was coming to a close you sent him a message

You: Coffee again?

Charles: Same time?

You: Perfect

Charles: It’s a date 😊

You drifted off to sleep smiling about what was waiting ahead of you the next day.

[afterglowkatie]

enchanted to meet you: paris ˏˋ°•*⁀ steph catley x mccabe!reader, short fic/blurb

steph catley x reader | 1.3k | based off of this ask

‘Y’know Steph’s not gonna disappear if you take your eyes off of her for a second, right,’ You rolled your eyes at your sister's teasing comments. It wasn’t often that you got to actually be at and watch one of Steph’s matches with the matildas. Normally playing for Ireland, countries apart, you would still try to stream and watch Steph’s matildas matches whenever you could while on international break.

But actually getting to be at her international matches was a completely different feeling and you were going to soak up every minute of it. You were already insanely proud of Steph but getting to watch as she represents and captains her country at an olympics, your heart was sure to burst with how much admiration you held for your fiance. 

‘Like you can talk,’ You playfully nudged Katie while she sat down next to you. Both of you in Australian football jerseys, yours with Steph’s number and name on your back while Katie had Caitlin’s. 

‘Look at us, matching for our girls,’ Katie pointed to each of your jerseys, both of you wearing the ones from the Australia v Ireland match of the world cup. This jersey for you always brings back the best of memories. Looking down at your hand where your engagement ring sat while feeling Steph’s ring sitting on a chain hanging around your neck. Steph had asked you to keep her ring safe while she played, so you kept it close to your heart, hoping for it to be some kind of good luck charm for her.

Your eyes never once left Steph the entire time she was on the pitch, nor did the smile that appeared the minute you saw your fiance running around on the pitch. Even if it wasn’t the preferred result, you were quite happy to be there and you knew Steph was happy you could be here.

You wanted to play it off that you couldn’t be at the matches and just show up to surprise Steph but your sister ruined that before you could even come up with the plan. Steph found out Katie was coming and knew that you wouldn’t be missing these matches either.

Leaning over the barrier a little you took Steph’s hands in your own, ‘Don’t you look cute,’ Steph was the first one to break the silence between the two of you. Taking her hands from yours and twirling your hair in her hands, ‘The little green and gold ribbons, my jersey, what more could a girl ask for,’ You felt your cheeks heat up and wrapped your arms around Steph, hiding your face in her neck.

‘I’m proud of you,’ You whispered against her neck, trying to shift the focus back onto Steph and off of you. Though you’d be lying if you said you didn’t like the extra attention Steph had been giving you lately, even more after knowing you’d be at her matches in her jerseys, ‘You’ll get the next ones, I just know it,’

-

The next match, you felt like you’d had years taken off your life. The amount of stress you had while watching the girls play, you’d be surprised if you didn’t find grey hair the next day. The highlight of the match for you was definitely watching Steph score two goals. Katie always loved seeing you so happy, especially while you were cheering and celebrating Steph’s goals. 

For you, there was nothing better than getting to watch Steph play. If you didn’t love football like you did then you would happily live this life. Travelling around to support your fiance, honestly felt like a dream. But you loved football too much and it spurred you on to work even harder to qualify for the Euros the next year in hopes of getting Steph into one of your jerseys and in the stands for one of your Ireland matches. 

Maybe you might also have another addition in the stands with Steph if both your plans worked out. How you felt just from being in the stands watching Steph play, you could imagine the roles reversed and how you would love for that to happen. 

‘My stargirl,’ You beamed while wrapping your arms around Steph. As soon as Steph could she was making her way over to you, jumping up on the barrier and wrapping her arms around you, pulling you in closely. 

You leaned back a little, Steph’s arms still holding you close, your hands cupping her cheeks, holding her gently. The smile on your face was soft while your eyes showed how proud and in love you were with her and Steph’s smile matched yours. Rubbing her cheeks, you leaned in to place a kiss on her cheek until Steph turned her head catching you off guard and locking your lips together. 

Both your smiles grew against each other's lips, ‘I’m so proud of you,’ you whispered against Steph’s lips before kissing her again. In this moment, no one and nothing else mattered. 

‘Get a room,’ You felt yourself get knocked a little off balance from your sister. Pulling back from Steph you pushed Katie back.

‘You’re so annoying,’ Keeping your arm around Steph while she sat on the fence next to you. You both took in the atmosphere and your surroundings, Steph enjoying getting to experience this with you by her side.

While you were watching all the other players with their families, Steph was admiring you. Your hair littered with the green and gold ribbons, wearing another one of Steph’s jerseys but this time you had a new addition. 

You smiled and turned your head to face Steph while she traced over the ‘SC’ and ‘7’ you had face painted on both of your cheeks. You really were Steph’s biggest supporter, you loved Steph and you loved her loudly, just like she did with you.

-

For a moment you really thought that the match was going to end in a draw. So you were disappointed for the girls, especially for Steph, when it ended. You knew firsthand how hard Steph was going to take how their olympic campaign went, even more with it being her first major tournament solely as captain. You knew how hard they all worked for this tournament, but it just wasn’t their time. 

There weren’t any words you could say to Steph right now that could make her feel any better but you knew there was someone who could potentially cheer her up. Seeing Steph eventually make her way over to where you were, you quickly got your phone up and put it into her hand. A small smile appeared on Steph’s face when she came face to face with Calvin through the phone. 

No words were exchanged, only a tight hug that lasted as long as Steph needed. You understand this feeling all too well, even if you’ve competed at an Olympics, you still had experience dealing with these feelings from other kinds of tournaments and important matches. 

‘Whatever you believe, know that I am and always will be so proud of you,’ You whispered in Steph’s ear, rubbing her back gently. You leaned back a little, taking her in. Placing little kisses on her cheeks, you leaned your foreheads together, ‘Tá grá agam duit,’

You placed a small soft kiss on Steph’s lips, ‘I love you too,’ Steph whispered, ‘Thank you for being here. I’ve loved being able to look over and see you there, it really helped and I’m just so glad you could be here,’ You leaned into Steph’s touch.

‘I’ll always support you wherever I can. Calvin’s mum’s number one supporter,’ You said proudly, causing Steph to laugh at you a little bit, ‘Go be with them baby, I’ll be right here,’ 

‘I’m proud of you,’ You would continue to tell Steph as many times as she needed to hear it.

[littlespoonevan]

I watched the first three seasons of 911 back when that was all that had aired and just didn’t keep watching after the break between seasons for whatever reason. I also didn’t really get buddie, I just thought it was a beautiful friendship. I’m now on a rewatch and just got to the end of season 4 and boy am I all in, Buck’s reaction to Eddie getting shot and the aftermath really made me get it. Anyway, I was wondering if you have any fic recs for a buddie newbie? I’m probably gonna speed through the rest of the show in a few days and need something else to occupy me hahah

hey bud, welcome back to the world of 911!! 🥰 okay so i have some previous fic recs that i've posted here and i also have 489 bookmarks on ao3 which you can have a scroll through here (i only ever bookmark something for rereading or reccing purposes so can confirm i've read and loved them all)

but i'll do my best to make a somewhat cohesive list below of some of my personal faves. i have no doubt i'll probably leave some out accidentally but they'll definitely be in my bookmarks so 100% check those out too!! ❤️

The Nearness of You by allisonRW96 / @homerforsure

Eddie reassured himself that he could do this. Other teams coming in were probably going to be staying at the same hotel in the same double rooms and it was very possible that none of them were going to be having sex. Or even lying awake at night thinking about it. Or: Buck and Eddie go on a work trip.

Leave the Light On (I'll Be Coming Home) by HMSLusitania / @hmslusitania

“We’re here for our grandson,” Helena says. “Chris is still sleeping,” Buck says. “I meant, we’re here to take him back to Texas,” Helena clarifies. “Yeah,” Buck says. He’s too tired, way too tired to be tactful. “Over my dead body.” -- An accident on a call leaves Buck with custody of Chris after Eddie is... missing presumed. While they navigate their new family circumstances -- and fight to stay together, despite Eddie's parents' best efforts -- a John Doe wakes up in a coma ward with no memory of his own life beyond the knowledge he has a son named Christopher and, somehow, he needs to get home.

To Build a Home We Deconstruct Our Rituals by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels /@letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

After the shooting, Eddie realizes he needs to put some things in place. Like who will get his assets if he dies. Who will speak for him if he ends up in a coma. What might happen if his family contests Buck's guardianship. Luckily, he's got a simple easy-peasy solution that won't result in insanity, catastrophe, or heartbreak: Marry Buck.

standing on the brink of emptiness by woodchoc_magnum / @woodchoc-magnum

In which Eddie is struggling in the aftermath of being shot, learning how to take care of himself and realising he's in love with Buck; and Buck is dating Taylor, taking care of Eddie and Christopher and trying to figure out why he's so goddamn confused about everything.

across our great divide (a glorious sunrise) by catchingpapermoons 

“We’re working on it,” Maddie explains, shooting Chimney a look. He nods seriously. “In couples therapy.” “Huh,” Eddie says, and then he thinks about it. "Do you think Buck and I would benefit from couples therapy?" — or, Eddie gets Buck to come to couples therapy with him.

darling, the future's better than yesterday by rarakiplin (gmontys)

Eddie, ten years younger, in this awful 2010, blinks up at him. He's still sitting slumped on the curb, and for a second Buck thinks he might tell him to fuck off, but then his eyes fall shut and there’s something — aching and painfully vulnerable in the bend of his mouth, the faint tension in his brow. “My…um, girlfriend, I guess. She’s pregnant.” “Holy shit,” Buck says. - or, buck deals with some wonky dimensional/time travel and then breaks up with his girlfriend. eddie, obviously, is involved.

i'm here (i’m yours for the taking) by farfromthstars / @buckactuallys

“Everyone!” Around forty heads turn, and Buck shifts on his feet uncomfortably at the attention. “This is my old friend Buck and his husband, Eddie.” “Uh,” Buck makes, turning to Eddie with wide eyes. Eddie's looking just as stunned. “Connor, I think you got–” He cuts himself off when Eddie wraps an arm around his waist. ~ at the winter wedding of an old friend, buck and eddie pretend to be married to each other. the plan has no weaknesses, obviously, not even mistletoe or anyone’s secret feelings… they call it the season of giving i'm here, i'm yours for the taking

Your Fingerprints Smeared on My Heart (Lead Me Back to You) by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

In 1880, Evan Buckley of the arriviste set is sent out west to oversee his family's railroad and recover from a broken heart - and meets Eddie Diaz, cowboy. When fate tears them apart, they make a promise: find each other again. In 2018, Buck walks into his fire station in Los Angeles - and meets Eddie Diaz, new recruit.

no kingdom to come by waywardrenegades

Family, FaceTime, guilt trips, phone calls, church, heart healthy meals, and learning how to let yourself be happy. Whatever that looks like. or; when his father experiences a health scare, Eddie flies to El Paso.

when i was shipwrecked (i thought of you) by catchingpapermoons 

Buck walks toward Jee-Yun’s room, still talking, and Christopher trails after him, asking excited questions in response, and Eddie’s smile grows. He wants this forever. Everything, every part of it; Buck, Christopher, and him—that’s all he needs. And— Oh. Oh no. He shuts his eyes for a moment, inhaling sharply. He’s looking at Buck, and feeling something strictly not platonic at all. or: Eddie needs to learn how to let himself feel, and one step at a time, he learns how to do just that. (And he falls in love with Buck along the way.)

i don't swim and you're not in love by hattalove / @hattalove

She turns to Eddie and says something else, but Buck is busy fighting the headrush he gets at the sound of Ana Flores calling Eddie and Christopher 'the boys'. Like they belong to her already. God, what’s wrong with him? What is this? or, eddie cooks, chris domesticates a slug, and buck tries to figure out why he hates his best friend's girlfriend. to everyone's immense shock and surprise, it goes badly.

everything's coming up milhouse by hammersmiths / @bucktommys

LAFD Updates (@L*A*F*D_Metro) LAFD Alert: Red-level traffic on Gardiner Road this morning. If you are trying to get into the city centre consider taking Westerley Lane. buck 🔥🔥 (@firebuck) so true bestie or, Eddie mans the LAFD Twitter account. Buck tries to be supportive.

said i couldn't stay, but it's different now by hattalove

“I think,” he says, watching Karen pull Hen out onto the dance floor, their eyes never leaving each other’s, “I think I’m just—sad.” Maybe. That feels like a close enough word to describe this gaping maw right in the center of his chest. It’s only really there sometimes, taking little bites out of him, easy enough to ignore, but today is worse. “About being single at a wedding,” Eddie says, not a question. Buck shrugs. “Sounds stupid when you put it that way.” or, the one with the four weddings (feat. a drunk karen wilson, shania twain, a single cheerio, and some confessions over cubed fruit).

cause i'm tired of sleeping alone by rarakiplin (gmontys)

Buck goes on dates now. Not often, and never with the same girl twice in a row, but he goes on dates. And the thing is — the thing is, Eddie can’t be mad about that, because he goes on dates too. - or, five (ish) times eddie and buck go on dates with other people, and one time they go on a date with each other

so far from being free by allisonRW96

"That’s Daniel. He was our brother. Buck doesn’t know what to do with the past tense. He never had a brother. He’s always had a brother. He gained one and lost one in the same breath and it feels impossible. But even if Buck was capable of doubting Maddie, the truth of her confession is evident in the way it throws every facet of his childhood into sudden perfect clarity. That yawning, arctic absence. The unnamable fear. The impenetrable target of his parents’ approval that he was never, ever going to be able to hit. That they didn’t want him to hit. He has a brother. A dead brother who has haunted Buck’s steps for his entire life."

don't let the tide come and wash us away by writerforlife

Buck develops a relationship with the ocean, avoids talking about the day Eddie was shot, realizes he might be in love, and drives. Order may vary. (a fic for the "Buck is going to break all the way down in season 6" truthers)

dance, for all that we've been through by catchingpapermoons 

The Los Angeles Ballet’s 2022-2023 season ends with a bang with their fresh take on a ballet staple, Swan Lake. Artistic Director Bobby Nash is in his eighth season with the Los Angeles Ballet, and it has flourished under his direction. However, his associate, Eddie Diaz, is the one whose reimagining of the choreography has caught our attention... (or, Eddie Diaz moves to L.A. to restart his dance career, and ends up choreographing a show, finding a family, and falling in love. Not necessarily in that order.)

I'll Scrawl it on Every Wall I See by letmetellyouaboutmyfeels

When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other. When Eddie joins the 118, he and Buck don't exactly hit it off on the right foot. Or continue to walk on the right foot. In fact they kind of can't stand each other. Good thing they each have a beloved anonymous pen pal to share their daily woes with, someone completely unlike their insufferable coworker. Or, in which Buck and Eddie love each other before they know each other, and know each other before they love each other.

never felt this way before (yes i swear) by withoutthetiger

It’s the summer of 2022, when Buck no longer wants to be called Evan, and it only occurs to his parents to mind. It’s after the pandemic – or so they say – and before whatever hell will befall the world next, when Buck can’t wait to join the LAFD in September, and he doesn’t know if he’ll ever meet someone as gently strong and fiercely protective as his big sister. It’s the summer he goes with his family to the One Eighteen Ranch & Lodge. *** A Dirty Dancing AU, set in Texas in 2022, featuring a whole lot of familiar faces in a not so familiar place.

Fragile lines (and wasted time) by Mellaithwen / @mellaithwen

“Hey Buck,” Christopher says a little shyly, before reaching out to grab Buck’s foot through the hospital blankets—shaking it in the same way he’s woken his father up on many a bleary-eyed morning. The familiarity of the gesture makes Eddie’s head spin. But of course, there’s no response from the comatose man on the bed. “I thought you said he was sleeping,” Chris mumbles, angrily swiping at his cheeks, and Eddie’s already broken heart shatters all over again for whatever hope his son had just lost when his expectations were so cruelly dashed. . While Buck sleeps, and dreams in the aftermath of the lightning strike, Eddie tries desperately to hold himself together.

Don't Take the Money by HMSLusitania

“You know, being stuck here isn’t actually the end of the world,” Chimney says, coming up to the table and picking up one of the smoke detectors. “It just feels like it, Buck. Trust me, I know.” “I’m pretty sure it might actually be the end of the world,” Buck says. “Considering this is the sixth time I’ve lived this day.” Chimney stares at him for a beat and then his eyebrows lift. “Wait, are you like – dude, are you in Groundhog Day?” OR The post-lawsuit time-loop AU literally no one asked for.

keep your eyes on the road by iriswests / @fcntasmas

Buck used to speed through yellow lights; now they’re his favorite part of the drive. -- or; a glimpse into buck and eddie’s developing relationship, told through ten moments stopped at a traffic light

Hot Ghost Problems by ebjameston

The ghost would prefer to go by Buck, if Eddie wouldn’t mind. +++ [Eddie is the newest firefighter at the 118. Buck is the ghost haunting the 118. Unfortunately for both of them, Eddie's also a witch and needs to put Buck's spirit to rest, because that's what witches do. Turns out, Buck's spirit? Super not interested in being put to rest. Very interested, however, in flirting with Firefighter Diaz, who is just trying to survive his candidate year. (Also turns out, Buck? Super not dead.)

as lucky as us by hammersmiths

One of the first things Ravi learned when joining the 118 was to, under no circumstances, think too hard about Buck and Eddie’s relationship. But brother, they could try make his job easier. “I mean, I get it,” Buck’s saying, overhead, and Ravi’s knee-deep in literal human crap and even he can smell that shit from a mile away. “You and Tommy have a lot in common.” or, Ravi continually suffers as a third-wheel.

[pedgito]

i just saw your post about glasses!eddie munson and whenever you have the time, would you be able to write a cute series of reader finding out about his glasses ITS JUST ADORABLE

author’s note: this was meant to post sooner than now but here it is lol, i finished this pretty quick but got sidetracked. glasses!eddie has invaded my brain and it’s never leaving.

cw: sfw, glasses!eddie, eddie’s not so subtle flirting, acquaintances to friends, once again another fic where everyone bullies eddie (give this man a break), if i missed anything lmk!

word count: 2.5k

“Do you wanna switch seats with me?” Your voice is soft, leaning back toward Eddie, whose eyes are nearly closed from how hard he’s focusing on the board, blindly scribbling something down on the paper. He’s lost on where the voice comes from until you’re in focus, looking back at him with a smile.

Eddie wasn’t a friend, but he wasn’t an enemy either. He was the boy who got picked on relentlessly and as much as you wanted to help, you weren’t sure it would change anything. Plus, he didn’t seem that bothered by it—or he was just really good at faking like he wasn’t.

“Oh,” Eddie replies, still confused, “I’ll be fine—Mr. Donahue’s handwriting is always shit, I can barely understand it.”

It wasn’t a total lie, but it was still legible.

“Munson!” The teacher's voice rings from the front of the classroom, “let's stop trying to distract other classmates and focus on our own work, okay?”

And if it wasn’t the condescension in his tone that pissed you off, it was the way he so quickly blamed Eddie for the interaction. He shrinks slightly, sending you an apologetic look.

It happens a few more times that week, catching Eddie glancing at the board as if it’s nearly impossible to see—and maybe he was telling the truth, but it’s also obvious that Donahue hates Eddie for no other apparent reason than just because he thinks he’s up to no good, which isn’t fair to Eddie.

You show up early to class the following week, bag resting in the chair of the desk beside you—Eddie’s usual seat, waiting. He’s always bordering on being late, making it to class as the bell rings, looking more frazzled than the others.

You weren’t sure what he got up to between classes, but he definitely seemed overwhelmed.

“This seat taken?” He asks with a smug smirk, pointing at your backpack. You smile slightly, reaching for it.

“Sorry—I just wanted to make sure I could sit beside you.” You tell him honestly. It throws Eddie off, his eyebrows furrowing together slightly before relaxing, eyes roaming over you curiously. “You said you can’t understand his handwriting, I was gonna let you copy my notes.”

“Can I copy your work too?” Eddie asks jokingly, but you can tell he means it. “I’m barely scraping by with a D in this class.”

You snort out a quiet laugh. “Let’s worry about the notes first.”

Eddie spends most of the class still struggling, forehead creased up as he sifts through your notes, writing things down sparingly. It’s almost like he’s trying not to be mean, focusing a little too hard on one word every now and then as he looks over, your papers perched on the corner of the desk.

“If my writing is horrible you can tell me,” You say, which makes Eddie chuckle, “seriously, I won’t be offended.”

“It’s not that,” He assures you, “it’s just—the angle, it’s a little hard to read them—“

“Oh, well,” You grab the papers in a bunch, extending them toward him, “here, just take them.”

Eddie ignored you, his fingers wrapping around the leg of your desk to pull it flush against his—it’s quick enough that it doesn’t make much noise, only a slight shifting that draws a few eyes.

“Or…that works too.” You say shyly, face heating up at his straightforwardness. “Better?”

He glances over, shifting the papers to his side and gives a subtle nod as his lips pull together in a tight line, “Yeah, actually.”

And it’s almost blissful silence as Eddie copies them down, asking a few questions when your words meld together out of habit when you’re writing too quickly, he still leans in slightly but you don’t pester him on it—eventually Eddie’s actions are noticed, all eyes shifting toward the back of the classroom.

When you look up, everyone is staring back, including the pensive and threatening eyes of your teacher.

Eddie mumbles a soft, “Sorry.” as he pushes your desk back.

“Do I need to remind you two that this isn’t a matchmaking class?”

And it’s a ridiculous comment to make, but it has Eddie scoffing slightly underneath his breath.

“I’m letting him copy my notes,” You say innocently, “is that okay?”

You can’t remember having a problem in any of your classes, either flying under the radar or one of the usual favorites—you’ve never felt this tense, staring down the entirety of the group that was staring right back, though your gaze was focused on Mr. Donahue.

Eddie looks at you briefly before settling his eyes toward the desk, fiddling with pen in his hands to soothe his anxiety.

“If Eddie has a problem, he can come sit up front,” He says coarsely, “I don’t think you have the wiggle room to be socializing, do you?”

And suddenly his gaze on you is forgotten, flicking toward Eddie.

Eddie doesn’t give him the satisfaction, shuffling his shoulders forward in an effort to hide himself, scribbling something random down on the paper in front of him—it’s something he did when was bored or uncomfortable, even, a comfort.

You catch Eddie toward the end of class, gripping his sleeve before he can sneak away.

“How far behind are you?” You ask him, peering up at him curiously. Eddie looks sheepish, glancing away for a moment.

“Uh, I haven’t really taken notes all semester—I kinda just..scribble shit down so it looks like I’m working.”

Your eyes slant down slightly, in an ire of disbelief as your mouth parts, “Eddie, are you serious?”

He shrugs, reaching a hand up to scratch his jaw. You huff through your nose, snatching the pen perched in Eddie’s pocket and uncapping it before shoving it into his hands.

“Give me your address.” You insist, holding out your arm to him. Eddie seems skeptical, fingers wrapping around your arm gently, shifting your sleeve up, “I’m getting you caught up—don’t look at me like that.”

And truly, he’s not sure how to respond. Kindness and niceties weren’t at all familiar, feeling like there was always some ulterior motive. Still, he scribbles down the information with slow strokes, careful that it doesn’t smudge—leaving a small smiley face out of spite, forcing a similar expression onto your own face.

“I’m free after six,” He tells you, “so unless you want to get caught up in awkward conversation with my uncle, wait until then.”

You laugh at that, pulling your sleeve down.

“How else am I supposed to uncover all of your secrets?”

Eddie smirks slightly, eyes averting toward the floor.

“I’ll tell you whatever you want to know—you just have to ask.”

He spends most of his nights—sans the ones where he’s performing for the small audience at The Hideout or hosting Hellfire meetings—organizing campaigns and writing down random things that come to his mind, feeling the need to get the thought out on paper, even if it’s song lyrics or a drawing.

He adjusts the thin rimmed glasses up his nose, eyes hurting from the strain he’s forced them through all day. He knows he should spend a few minutes resting, even just closing his eyes for a moment, but he can’t help it. Eddie knows it’s his fault, the beginnings of a headache forming as he tries to focus, his finger sneaking up to rub at his eye—he can feel the haziness, willing it away.

But then you’re knocking at his door and every thought is thrown out the window—part of him never expected you to show, his heart thrumming in his chest as he leaps from the bed, tossing the papers away haphazardly and forcing the glasses up into his hair without a thought, pushing his bangs away from his face.

Eddie whips the door open, causing you to startle slightly.

“Hi.” You say wearily, a soft smile on your face.

“Hi,” Eddie responds slightly out of breath, before clearing his throat and offering a smoother, “Hey.”

Your eyes glance up, noticing the difference in his face. His bangs were like a trademark, constantly hiding his eyebrows. You point up curiously, speaking before you can think things through.

“You wear glasses?” You ask, eyebrows knitting in confusion.

“No—no uh, of course not.” Eddie responds quickly, adamant in his refusal. “Why would you—“

He’s clearly caught off guard, standing awkwardly in the doorway, eyes crossing as he follows your finger, only realizing his mistake when you drag the glasses down slowly, pushing them gently up the bridge of his nose.

“Well, that is definitely an interesting pair of non-existent glasses.” You say jokingly, grinning at his embarrassment, cheeks flushing a deep red.

It’s hard to explain how perfectly they fit his face—like it’s the missing piece that pulls him together. He’s not dressed up like usual, in a faded graphic shirt and gray pair of sweats, no jacket or rings in sight. It’s natural—and it’s in that split second you can see the real Eddie. Not the threatening, menacing Eddie Munson that everyone played him out to be.

Eddie nods wearily, beckoning you inside.

“I won’t tell anyone,” You promise him with a tinge of amusement, rounding on him as he closes the door, shoving the stack of papers at his chest, “—if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Eddie pulls the glasses off of his face, folding them up.

“It’s not that,” Eddie tells you, “—didn’t mean for you to find out about them, it kinda ruins the whole image, you know?”

Image. It makes you laugh to yourself silently.

“You didn’t seem like you were trying to hide them,” You giggled slightly, “besides, I don’t think they ruin anything.”

“I kinda forgot you were coming.” Eddie lies, knowing he had been riddled with nerves since he stepped foot inside of the trailer that evening, not understanding why he was so anxious to begin with.

“Look, I don’t mean to overstep or anything—“ You stop briefly, sighing softly, “but if you need a tutor or even just…some help, I don’t mind.”

Eddie doesn’t really know how to take it, staring at you like you’d grown a second head.

“I study with Nancy a lot,” You explain, “it’s really not a big deal.”

“I’m a lost cause,” Eddie admits with half-smile, “there’s no saving me.”

“I don’t believe that,” You tell him honestly, approaching him to shove the glasses back toward his chest, his other hand still stuffed full with the papers containing your notes, “—seriously, put them back on and I can spend a couple hours seeing where you’re at.”

Eddie listens, though skeptically, placing the glasses back onto his face—you smile without really thinking, causing him to react similarly.

“It’s okay to let someone be nice to you,” You assure him, “as many assholes as there are at Hawkins, there’s still a few of us who mean well.”

“I can’t be taught, I’m just warning you now.” Eddie remains adamant, leading the way toward his room. You follow behind eagerly, taking in the abstract way of decoration littered around the trailer.

“Fine—you can at least show me your drawings then.”

Eddie looks back at you briefly, a confused grin on his face.

“I’m really observant,” You tease, “and curious.”

“Promise not to tell anyone?” Eddie asks.

“I’ve already got one secret to keep,” You respond, teasing him lightly, “what’s one more?”

“How bad is it?” You ask him, staring up expectantly.

“What—oh, my eyes?” Eddie asks, “Uh, kinda bad. It’s okay, though—I manage.”

You crease your eyebrows together, motioning for him to remove the glasses. He does, watching as you reach for a paper, holding it up in front of him.

“Tell me when you can read it clearly.”

Eddie nods, squinting as you move the paper closer and closer, until it’s only a few inches from his face, your eyes widening in shock.

“Eddie,” You stress, “you can’t be serious?”

“I told you I manage,” He argues with a slight laugh, “but it’s bad, I meant that.”

Your expression remains the same, arms falling to your side as you discarded the paper.

“They look weird,” Eddie defends, “that’s why I only wear them at home—I already get enough shit at school anyways.”

“Bullshit,” You say boldly, “they do not look weird.”

Unfortunately, you did see all of the relentless teasing he caught at school, that wasn’t lost on you.

“You don’t have to lie,” Eddie says, “it won’t bother me.”

“I’m not,” You counter, smiling as the glasses returned to his face, his eyelashes touching the lenses, bangs brushing against the rim, “they fit you—they’re…cute.”

Eddie snorts in disbelief, “Okay, enough.”

You smile to yourself, watching as his cheek flushed a faint pink.

“Can I try them on?”

Eddie doesn’t answer outright, pulling them away from his face and handing them over—they’re a little bigger, his more prominent facial structure different from yours and causing the glasses to slide down your nose slightly. You push them up with your finger, squinting at the strain it puts on your eyes.

You can see Eddie smiling over the rim, admiring how perplexed you look in the moment, “Don’t look at me like that,” You say playfully, “these things are really strong.”

Eddie shakes his head, “It’s—nothing, nevermind.” He pulls the glasses from your face gently, placing them back on his own.

And Eddie’s never been shy, but suddenly he can’t force the words out, afraid of the mix of both rejection and embarrassment.

“I like you like this,” You tell him, hoping it eases him, seeing how tense he was—clearly unloved by many, “I mean, I like you both ways but this—it’s nice.”

“You’re the first.” He says flippantly, not aimed at you for any specific reason. He’s not immune to the words thrown at him, they do start to wear on him after time, even if he brushes them off for the most part.

“They’re insane,” You tell him with a surety, “all of them.”

“Careful,” Eddie treads, “Jason would have a fuckin’ field day if he heard you say that.”

You shrug, smugness in your expression.

“He’s terrified of me.”

“Jason—terrified of you?” Eddie asks, begging for more clarification.

“Our parents are friends—I’ve seen…a lot.” You say cryptically, not wanting to dive into details, “I’m not one for blackmail but I’m not totally above it.”

“You’re so interesting,” Eddie speaks candidly.

“I’ll take that was a compliment?” You respond, “Hopefully.”

Eddie nods with a subtle smile.

“Well—like you said,” You start, repeating his earlier sentiment, “I’ll tell you anything, just ask.”

You hold your finger up as his mouth opens—

“But, notes first—secrets later.”

Eddie pushes his glasses up comedically, forcing a quiet laugh from you—it’s the exact reaction he wants. He settles, agreeing with your rules.

“Deal.”

Please consider a reblog if you enjoyed this fic! It’s makes a huge difference. ♡

[sandwitchstories]

Challenge Accepted

Witch writing more Rengoku smut? It must be a day that ends in Y!

Please, sit down and have a helping of some more of my Rengoku brainrot! Feast away!

If you prefer to read it on AO3, click here ! Summary: Two hot blooded 20 year olds. Alone in a house. With a storm outside. No company expected for several days. One thing leads to another quickly, and the two slayers not only confess their feelings, but give their first time to each other.

AKA - The one where they lose their virginity.

WC: 3400

CW: MDNI, Smut, loss of virginity, AFAB terms used to describe reader's naughty bits, oral sex (f!receiving), fingerings, hand job, cum

Thunder clapped and lightning flashed outside, making Y/N wince where she sat on a Futon near Kyojuro. She had never liked storms. 

He chuckled at her. “I have seen you take on demons the size of buildings without flinching, but a little bit of thunder makes you jump. Such an odd little mouse you are.” 

“Don’t call me that,” she thumped his arm playfully. 

“What? Little?” he teased.

“If you make another ‘mouse’  joke I am going to make you regret it,” Y/N pointed a finger in his face, her features scrunched up in mock seriousness.

He threw his head back and laughed, “I had no intentions of it before, however…” “I’m gonna get you!” Y/N lunged, tackling Kyojuro playfully like she had many times before in the years since they had become friends. 

He grabbed her, rolling her under him. He pinned her lower body with his legs, using his size to his advantage as he pinned her hands above her head. “What was that you were saying?”

“You haven’t won yet, Rengoku!” she thrashed under him, trying to break free.. 

The feel of her moving like that under him caused something new to come over him and it suddenly bothered him that she used his surname. It may be the fact that that was not the name he wanted to hear her utter when she was under him. He moved to hold both of her wrists easily with one large hand as his other gently but firmly held her chin, forcing her to look him dead on. “Say my name.”

“Rengoku.” 

His hand moved slightly and his thumb brushed across her pouty, full, lower lip, watching her eyes change from playful mischief into something else entirely at the intimate contact. The look that appeared in those big (Y/E/C) eyes went straight to his cock. He said a small prayer that she couldn’t tell. But he was not willing to change course now. “Say. My. Name.”

“Fine… Kyojuro…” she drew out his name before turning her head and nipping the tip of his thumb. 

She needed to not wonder what this look in his beautiful eyes was about. She needed to not think about how good he felt on top of her. How good he smelled. Wondering what he would taste like, how he would look naked and above her live this… she DEFINITELY needed to not think about the fact that they were completely alone in this big old house with a private onsen, with no company of any kind expected for the next few days … the things they could do…

He rubbed her lip again, almost looking hypnotized. “Say it again.”

“Make me.”

There was that defiance he had always loved about her. He looked at her lips again before meeting her gaze head on. “I accept your challenge. Good luck.”

“Hu-”

He pressed his lips against hers, pulling back just a little, his heart sped up when she followed after his lips, chasing his kiss and closing the distance between them again. 

Their lips met and parted several times before he slid his tongue along the seam of her lips. 

Y/N instinctively opened her mouth, allowing his tongue to thrust in and brush against hers. The kiss quickly became messy and passionate. Teeth bumped each other and pinched at lips as they excitedly figured out what they liked. 

Y/N ripped one of her hands free from his, bringing it up to bury in his golden locks, holding his head to hers. The hand still holding her wrist shifted to be holding her hand, their fingers intertwined, clasping each other. 

She moaned softly into his mouth when his leg moved to rest between hers, pressing against her center. Her kiss turned desperate as her hunger and instincts took over and she rubbed herself against his thigh. Y/N felt his erection pressing against her thigh and she wondered how it would feel for him to be inside of her. She felt dizzy and almost desperate to know. She whimpered as he pulled back from the kiss to look down at her with a scorching hunger in his eyes. 

“If you tell me to stop I will.”

“If you stop… I am going to poison your morning tea… unless you want to stop which-”

He stopped her mid sentence with a passionate kiss. He pressed his hard length against her. “Does it seem like I want to stop?” He leaned down to kiss her ear. “I haven’t done this before…”

“Good. Me either…” she ran fingers through his hair, squeezing their still interlocked hands.

“Is that so? Why?” he pulled back to look into her eyes.

“You really want to have a discussion about that right now?” she almost whined.

“Not a discussion. Just an answer. Please.”

Y/N looked up into his eyes, moving her hand to cup his face. “Since the day we met, I have never wanted anyone but you.”

“That is music to my ears.” he grinned at her.

“Well now you have to answer too!”

“It is the same for me,” he kissed her again. “You are the only one I want in all ways.”

“Now that that has been discussed, will you please kiss me again?” she asked. “Gladly,” he muttered before capturing her lips passionately. He moved to be fully between her legs, the shift in positions forcing her robe to open part way. He kissed hungrily down her neck, mouthing at the slope and reveling in the whimpers falling from her lips. “May I go lower?”

She turned his face back up to hers, making him look her in the eyes before she spoke. “Kyojuro… You don’t have to ask. The answer for you and only you, is always yes.” 

He kissed her again before moving his lips back to her neck and began his descent again. He ignored the nervousness he felt, instead focusing on the excitement and desire pumping through his veins. He let go of her hand above her head to work with his other one, untying her belt and gently spreading her robe open, exposing her to his gaze. He let out a soft sound of appreciation as his eyes took her in, “You are so beautiful.”

Kyojuro kissed her again as their hands began to hungrily roamed each other’s bodies, gripping, scratching, stroking, digging in. He fervently kissed down her neck to her chest. His hand moved to cup the large soft mound of her breast as he lowered his mouth to draw her nipple in, sucking on it and rolling it with his tongue. She cried out, holding his head to her chest and rocking against him, arching herself to press her breast even more against his mouth.

With his mouth still attached to her nipple he undid his robe and discarded it behind him, leaving him fully nude as well. His hands moved to slide her robe the rest of the way from her shoulders, pulling it out from under her to toss it aside with his. His large hands began sliding over her skin. His touch was gentle but hungry, setting her more on fire with every single caress.

He switched breasts, sucking harder and nipping until he got a noise from her. His hands slid lower, down her sides, pausing to grip her hips. They traveled down her legs and back up to grip her thighs. He kissed down the valley between her breast, continuing lower onto her belly and across her hip.

“Are you alright?” Kyojuro asked, noticing her propped up on her elbows watching him intently with flushed skin and half lidded eyes. 

“More than,” she said, her breasts moving with her heavy breathing. “I just don’t want to miss a thing.”

“Good,” he smiled, kissing her stomach one more time.

Y/N pushed aside her anxiousness as his hands spread her thighs wide open, opening her center to his gaze. She fought the urge to cover herself by tangling her fingers in the sheet spread out below them. He stared at her reverently, slowing down his prior frantic pace. He placed gentle kisses on her mound while running a long calloused finger up and down her open slit, opening her more and gathering her slick on his finger. She moaned softly as his finger slid inside her slowly, until it hit her barrier. 

He moved his finger slowly, watching her like a hawk for even the slightest sign of discomfort or unease, cataloging her every reaction and sound. “Good?”

“So much more than,” she answered immediately, biting her lip as she watched him. She rocked her hips the slightest bit, wanting him to keep going.

Kyojuro picked up on the que and smiled at her as he went back to what he was doing, thrusting his finger at a little faster pace, remembering every single tip Uzuii had given him. He had three wives, the man had to know a thing or two about pleasuring a woman, right? Gods, he hoped so.

Going off another piece of advice from Uzuii he took one of her hands in his, kissing her palm before he guided  it to her slick slit. He looked up at her bright red face. “Show me how you like to be touched. I want to watch you.”

Y/N always loved how blunt he was. She did as he asked. She slid her fingers through her slick before circling her clit and applying pressure. As she neared her peak her hands began to move faster. She decided to throw her insecurities aside. “Please… move your finger faster…”

He did as she asked, carefully pushing a second one into her incredible tight slit. He curled his fingers just slightly, smiling when she let out a cry of pure pleasure and he abused the spot. 

“Oh shit, oh shit… I’m gonna cum…”

“Do it, that’s what I want,” he told her, his free hand draping an arm across her and holding her hips down, forcing her thighs to stay open with his elbows. “I want to watch you fall apart. Don’t worry. I’m here. I will always catch you.”

“Oh fuck Kyojuro…” she threw her head back and called his name as she came, coating his fingers in her pleasure. 

He gave her a huge grin as she came down from her orgasm and he removed his fingers from her. He kept her eye contact as he sucked his fingers clean. “You taste incredible.”

That was all he said before he leaned forward and licked her center. She cried out as his tongue slid deeper. He lapped at her folds and began to move his fingers once more. With how sensitive she was coupled with the sight, sounds and feel of him eating her out with gusto it didn't take long for her to cum again, loudly crying out his name.

Kyojuro was pleased with himself. So far she had called his name 2x. But he was far from done. He was proud of having reduced her to a shaky mess twice already. It was his first time too after all. 

He kissed back up her body, groaning when she moved her hands to pull him into a hungry kiss. He braced on his hands by her shoulders as her hands hungrily roamed over his body before sliding down to grip his ass and then around the front. He moaned softly at the feel of her hand snaking around his cock hesitantly. It felt incredible. He moved a hand to close over hers, showing her how to push back the foreskin and how he liked to be touched. He moaned again,  pulling her hand off of him before he came right there and then.

He slid the head of his cock back and forth through her creamy essence, he shivered at the feeling of her pussy against the sensitive head of his cock. “Are you sure about this?”

“I am,” she said without hesitation. “It was always going to be you, Kyo.”

“Only me..” he said, looking down into her eyes with a burning gaze. 

“Same for you. Only me.”

“As you said, it was always going to be you,” he kissed her as he lined himself up with her tight opening and began to push in. 

Y/N’s mouth hung open slightly as he pushed his thick length into her. He hit her barrier and stopped. Moving his hands to capture hers and interlock their fingers again, pinning them above her head. Her legs locked around his hips.

“I’m sorry this may hurt,” he said softly.

“It’s okay. I trust you.”

He captured her lips before he drew back his hips and thrust the rest of himself in, tearing past her barrier and spearing her with his cock.

She groaned and her nails dug into the skin of his fingers and her legs locked around him, forbidding him to move. “Give me a second…”

“We have all the time in the world, my love. You tell me when to move,” he said. He released her hands to slide them under her back, his hands coming up to cup her shoulders from behind. He rested his weight on top of her and kissed her gently, wanting to distract her from her discomfort, but not moving an inch until she told him when. 

Y/N returned his kiss, letting his passion sink into her bones and reignite her flame like he always did. She rocked her hips and loosened her legs' death lock on his, signaling she wanted him to move. 

He propped up on his elbows, starting to thrust, slowly, pulling out more and more with each thrust until he was withdrawing all the way out to just the tip and sliding back in. He groaned softly as he moved, the feel of her on his cock was incredible. Better than he had ever imagined. 

“Oh shit, you feel so good inside of me, Kyojuro,” Y/N gasped, her nails now raking the skin of his shoulders.

“So do you. You feel amazing,” he said, adjusting to be more up right and to rest on his knees. Kyojuro’s hands caught her legs behind her knees, pressing her legs back into the bedding and spreading her open. The slight rolling back of her hips allowed to go even deeper inside of her. As her moans filled his ears he watched himself moving in and out of her. The sight of her blood mixed in with the creamy ring forming around the base of his cock bothered him, but it was anatomy, he couldn’t change it. All he could do was make sure she was thoroughly satisfied. And he would do that, every single time, he vowed. 

She was so tight and hot, it wasn’t going to take him long to finish. She was tightening on him the harder and faster he went. Her nails raked lines down his back as she threw her head back and arched her body against him, lost in the pleasure of the moment. “Kyojuro… More.. More… don’t hold back… Give me everything you’ve got… give me everything…”

Her words unleashed something Kyojuro could only describe as feral inside of him. His large hands gripped her hips, fingers definitely going to leave bruises with the strength he used as he pulled her back against him so her ass was almost in his lap. He moved to be more over her, pressing her down into a mating press as he began fucking into her hard and fast. 

Y/N found herself savoring not only the physical aspects of this moment, but also the symphony of sex coming from their pleasurable exchange. Moans, gasps, groans and growls. The squelching noises of his cock working her pussy, the slapping sounds of their hips clashing together. Even more turned on by those thoughts, Y/N’s hand moved down to press her fingers between her plump pussy lips and stroking her bundle of nerves that so desperately needed attention. She felt his cock twitch inside her as he watched. His thumb soon replaced her fingers, taking up the circular motions and pressure. 

“Oh shit… Kyojuro…yeah, just like that, oh fuck… it feels so good… you’re gonna cum…”

“Good. That is what I want. I want to feel you cum on me. I want to feel your pussy clench and pulse on my cock,” he uttered those filthy words, letting go of her hips to brace on his hands at her sides. His thrusts were getting sloppy and no longer had any sense of rhythm. “Where should I finish? I’m not going to last long. You feel too good. Better than I ever imagined…”

“Anywhere,” she answered, claiming his lips and kissing him frantically before she threw back her head and cried out his name. 

He may have stopped counting how many times she had said his name, but he would never get tired of hearing her say it in these broken, breathy cries. His lips moved to her neck, marking her skin with a soft bruise as he chased his own orgasm. The feeling of her cumming again - the way her cunt tightened on his cock, the way her cream covered him and made a made of both of their groins and inner thighs,  the way she babbled incoherently as she rode her high out on his cock - was his undoing. 

He moaned her name as his orgasm slammed into him, burying his face in the crook of her shoulder as he came. He pulled out at the last second, spilling his seed on her stomach. He panted above her, trying to catch his breath.

“Holy shit,” Y/N smiled, looking up at him, feeling fully sated and happy. She moved a hand to cup his face, smiling when he turned his head and pressed a kiss to her palm. “Hey Kyo?”

“Yes?” he asked, a hand moving to rest over hers on his face.

“I love you.”

He blinked at her slowly before his lips met hers in a gentle kiss. “I love you too. I always have and always will.”

Y/N stretched as she came awake. Someone stirred behind her, wrapping an arm around her and pulling her tight against a rock hard body. She smiled as she remembered the previous night and just whose arms she was in. Her Kyojuro. 

She bit her lip as his hand wandered to her breast, still bare from the night before. Why bother with clothes when it was hot outside and they had just been intimate? His breathing was still even, eyes still closed. She was pretty sure he was still asleep but she wasn’t sure. His hardening cock pressed against her ass, she pressed her hips back harder against him.

“Good morning,” he muttered against the top of her messy head.

“A good morning it is,” she said, turning her head back to look at him over her shoulder. He looked so incredibly handsome, just waking up and his wild hair going all over the place. Her fiery angel. 

He took advantage of the angle and caught her lips in a kiss. “I know how to make it an even better morning.”

“How?”

“Cardio workout!” Kyojuro answered happily.

“You’re absolutely kidding me! That doesn’t make for a good morning!” Y/N groaned, turning her head back to resting away from him, contemplating pretending to fall back asleep.

“Why? Are you sore?” he asked, concerned.

“Well, not really. I mean a little, obviously, of course… but I don’t wanna work out!”

“It’s cardio!”

“I don’t wanna!”

“I think you’ll like what I have in mind,” Kyojuro  said, mouthing at the junction of her neck and shoulder.. 

“I’ll hear you out.” she huffed. 

Her breath caught as his hand slid down her body, over her hip, and squeezed her ass. He pressed her thigh forward to give himself better access, before sliding his finger through the arousal already glistening on her pussy lips, before pressing it inside her. 

“Well… the workout I have in mind starts just like this.” He smirked and added a second finger, scissoring them inside of her. He mouthed her neck before speaking closely to her ear so his hot breath fanned across her skin. “Are you listening?”

“Not at all. Just keep doing that thing with your fingers.”

[theidiotwhowritesthings]

I am IN LOVE with your writing!  I’m a dedicated reader! 💓💓 thanks for taking the time to do it!

Hear me out. Reader pulls a 24 hour shift in the local clinic on a busy day and we get a protective worried din?

He would also be busy but he would definitely pull reader out and make her take a nap AT LEAST. 😂 anyway, I just thought that would be cute to think about.

I hope you have a wonderful day and keep up the good work! 

[a/n: anybody wanna guess how many times it took me to try and post this b/c tumblr wanted to keep glitching and destroying it?? FUCKING FOUR. lord, im gonna go scream in a pillow. anyways, thanks anon for the great idea! also pls consider this my apology for the cliffhanger that i am so sorry (but not really) for.]

'A FRESH START' DELETED SCENE

Din Djarin x Female!Reader

Warnings: reader overworks herself, mentions of injuries (burns specifically) but not in great detail

Word Count: 1,934

Summary: Everyone needs a break, and Din is hell bent on ensuring you don't skip yours.

#MID 17: TAKE A BREAK, DOC

[so not between chapters, but a scene within one of the time breaks in chapter 17.]

.

"be with someone who will take care of you. not materialistically but take care of your soul, your well being, your heart, and everything that's you." -unknown

.

Trying to get the emergency clinic established was not easy. You agreed to the job, and Karga had given you free reign. The High Magistrate was essentially allowing you to run the clinic as you saw fit. Which in part was fantastic because it gave you incredible freedom, but it was also your worst nightmare. All your training had taught you was how to handle the medical aspect of an office. The business and organization side was a whole other issue. Especially because the people of Nevarro were not understanding that this was for emergencies only. 

“My ankle hurts.”

“Alright, when did this start? When did you get hurt?”

“I twisted it while jogging three years ago.”

“You⏤ Wait, what?”

In order for this to work the way it needed to, you’d have to focus on actual emergencies only. Alone you would never be able to handle the patient load that would come with servicing an entire city. Plus, you really didn’t want to. The amount of time it would take to even attempt that was insane, and Din needed your help with Grogu.

So, the plan would be to establish that this clinic was emergencies only, emphasize it to everyone who walked in the door, but for today you’d manage all the small, routine problems.

Just for today.

By lunch time, you had already seen 47 patients. None of which were emergent. In fact, the biggest injury was a young man who had dropped a glass plate at home and accidentally cut his hand. He needed four stitches. 

“Aayla?”

“Four more in the waiting room, doctor!” Aayla called out without even having to be asked the question. She was a gift from the Maker today. Already, you had decided to try training her more in depth medically and hire someone else to work the front desk. “You also have a guest.

“What?” You breathed, barely able to catch her words.

Aayla didn’t need to repeat herself because that was the moment Din swept into the room with the same confident strut he naturally seemed to have. At the sight of him, you couldn’t help but let out a sigh of relief as your lips curled up into a smile.

“What is going on?” Din asked as he drifted closer to you. There were still two patients sitting on cots waiting for you to finish with them, but Din commandeered your attention by settling his hand on your lower back and staring down at you. Even through the helmet you could feel his concerned gaze. “Why are you so busy? I thought you were hired for emergencies only.”

“I was, but apparently nobody told all of Nevarro that.”

Din stiffened. “Did Karga⏤”

“No. I don’t think he tricked me into this or that this was on purpose.” You said quickly. “And everyone who comes in, I’m telling them that from now on it’s emergencies only.”

“But today?”

“Today, I am seeing every Nevarro citizen.” You chuckled. “You want a check up, Mando?”

“Ner kar’ta,” Din shook his head, “Have you taken any breaks at all?” You shot him a sheepish smile. “Come. Let’s get lunch.”

“I can’t. I’ll just get further behind.” You mumbled. Din looked like he was ready to argue with you. In fact, his hands even drifted to his hips as his head tilted. You had seen him take on the same stance before lecturing Grogu. You wrapped your hands around his forearm and gave him the most reassuring smile you could muster. “It’s fine. I’m just sorry I’m bailing on you for lunch.” He sighed. “You poor thing, now you’ll have to spend more time with Mayfeld.”

Din huffed and you chuckled. Aayla called out that more people were filling the space, and for a second you thought the Mandalorian Marshal was considering sending everybody home just so you could have a moment for lunch. You squeezed his forearm. 

“Fine.” Din grumbled.

“Also, I know this won’t help my argument or convince you of anything, but,” You scrunched your nose with a small wince, “Do you think you can pick up Grogu today?”

Din seemed taken aback based on his voice alone, “How long do you plan on staying?”

You knew his question was one more focused on the concern of you staying here for too long versus him being upset that you couldn’t get Grogu. When you shot him another sheepish smile he just grumbled under his breath in Mando’a. Din caught you off guard by leaning forward to lightly rest his forehead against yours for a second. 

“This conversation isn’t over.” Din said simply and you just chuckled in response.

He squeezed your hand once before leaving and you were forced to return to the patients you had. Ten minutes passed at the most, you got two patients out with Aayla’s help, when Din’s heavy footfalls returned. You glanced over your shoulder to see he was holding a bag of food. He crossed the space to set the bag in your hands and you peered in to see it was your favorite sandwich from the local shop. Your eyes glanced back up at him with a grin. The warmth of being seen and known settling in your chest.

“Eat.” Din said firmly.

“Thank you.” You replied. “I’ll eat it as soon as⏤”

“No.” He interrupted. A tilt to his head and a challenge in his voice. “I’m not leaving until I watch you take a few bites. At the least.”

You rolled your eyes, in good nature, and handed him the bag so you could wash your hands in the sink off to the side. On your way back to Din, you asked Aayla to bandage one patient’s knee and get imaging of another patient’s hand. Din had already pulled out your sandwich to set on the desk you had brought into the corner. Before you could reach for it, Din pointed to the desk chair. With a chuckle you dropped down into the seat, the first time you were off your feet all morning, and only then did Din push the sandwich toward you. 

“Thanks.” You said after your first bite. More sincere than your last. Din was leaning against the desk beside you. Close enough that your arm could press against his thigh if you moved it over even an inch. “You didn’t have to do this.”

“Apparently, I did.” Din chuckled. “Otherwise, you wouldn’t have eaten at all.”

You couldn't argue. Instead, you just shook your head, “Not gonna lie, I always did have a bad habit of getting caught up in my work.”

“Why does that not surprise me?”

“Doctor, can you take a look at this?” Aayla called out.

You quickly took one last, large bite of your sandwich before standing. Din pushed off the desk to tower over you again. He nodded. “I’ll pick up Grogu, but if you’re not home by 5 I’m coming back to drag you home.”

“Is that a threat or a promise?” You teased.

Din leaned over to lightly tap his forehead against yours and you chuckled. He reached over to pick up your sandwich and held it up towards you. You raised an eyebrow at him, but he didn’t budge. Rolling your eyes, you leaned over and took another bite. Holding a hand over your mouth, tucking the food into your cheek, you spoke. “Happy?”

“Yes. Be careful. Message me if you need anything.”

You watched him leave with a bemused smile.

Never before had you been so acutely aware of the saying ‘when it rains, it pours’. Today had already been stressful and busy so it would make sense that at 4:25 in the afternoon an actual emergency rolled in. Nothing to test and stretch your skills like having to handle a trauma case after a full day of working. There had been an incident, on the other side of this world deep in the lava plains, where a group of smugglers got a bit too close to a river of lava with their weapons and nearly blew one another sky high. 

The least injured of the three had flown them in. She had some superficial burns all along her left side. Then the other two had third degree burns that required some serious fluid replacement. You didn’t stop working, barely paused to take a breath, until all three were stable and resting comfortably. Only then did you drop down into your desk’s chair and rest your head on your arms with a sigh. 

About twenty minutes later, a pair of hands settled on your shoulders, squeezing in comfort, and you would’ve been startled if you didn’t recognize the creak of Din’s leather with the comforting smell of his flight suit’s detergent and the polish used on his beskar. 

“What time is it?” You groaned.

“8:42.”

“You’re nearly four hours late.”

Din squeezed your shoulders once more before letting a hand settle on the back of your neck. You found the weight of it grounded you. “I got here at 4:50. Saw you were busy with something important. Left then came back.” His thumb caressed your skin, and you pushed your head up to glance at him. Din had the hand not on your neck resting on the desk. “You alright?”

“Just tired.” You mumbled and rubbed your face with one hand. “Grogu?”

“He’s with Peli. Missed you at dinner though.” Din replied. “He acts up when you’re not around.”

“No, no. He’s a perfect angel, always.”

Din snorted at that, and the sound made you chuckle. You glanced over at the cots that held the three smugglers who slept soundly. All their vitals still stable. Din’s hand slipped down to rub your upper back soothingly. “You coming home?”

“I can’t. Not until the emergency shuttle gets here to pick those three up.” You sighed. “They have to be at a facility with a higher level of care than just me.”

“‘Just you’ saved their lives.”

“You know what I mean.” You shrugged. “You should go though.” Din tilted his head. “There’s no telling how long it’ll take for the ship to get here. I already sent Aayla home. I’m just babysitting right now. You should pick up Grogu and head home. Get some sleep.”

Din shook his head as if it were the stupidest thing you had ever said. He gently wrapped his hand around your upper arm and pulled you up from your seat. You let him drag you along to the fourth cot in the room which was currently empty. “You sleep. I’ll babysit.” 

“Din…”

He lightly pushed down on your shoulders until you were seated on the cot. You stared up at him in question, but he just shook his head. “If something changes with their status I’ll wake you.” Din pushed you down a little further so you were laying down. The moment your body hit the relatively soft bed you felt yourself sink into it with exhaustion. Din went to walk, but you grabbed his hand and tugged him toward the cot as well.

“You can babysit while laying down, can’t you?”

“My armor isn’t gonna be much of a pillow.”

“Neither is this cot.”

Din chuckled and dropped down to lay beside you. You rested your head on his chest, the cool metal of the beskar biting into your warm cheek, and just sighed. It hadn’t occurred to you how tired you truly were until now. Din had an arm wrapped around you so he could grasp your shoulder with his hand and use his thumb to trace patterns there.

“Take a break, doc.” Din hummed. “I got you.”

taglist:

@aheadfullofsteverogers @yyiikes @kneelforloki @c-ms1ut @sgt-morgan @luthienaliceisilra @fawn-kitten @missbabyjay @coldlamaspersonspy @dilfsaremyfavourite @jamesbuckybarnes @yorkeylover @teawrites01 @emily-roberts @djarinxore @impala1967666 @shelbyteller @faithrenner @dindjarindude @dankfarrick29 @rh1nestonecowg1rl @garbo-lesbo @anythingforattention @tearfulsolace @onceinamando @catharinaroxastova @uwu-i-purple-you @modiddys-blog @stagerightlauren @mini-bees @xxinvisblexx @adoringanakin @sagegreensensei @spidey-3 @sydney-1209 @thepascalofus @hrtsforpascal @banana-lol @daybleedsintonightfall11 @lil-dragon-draws @guccistardust @ideajpeg @harriedandharassed @leithatnight @elfamosotoga @damnzelsoul @the-anchored-sailor-girl @morks-watermelon @katelynmarieyt @taylorann2013 @chonkercatto @dheet @liadamerondjarin @fallinallinmendes @missdicaprio @jennaaaaaaaaaaaaaaa @alphaash99 @djarinsmixtape @pcrushinnerd @closedaddition @thelovelyhann @harrys-sunflower-bakery @mayaaaaah @theway-thisis

[lurkingshan]

Japanese QL Corner

ICYMI: There are so many Japanese qls airing weekly, so I’m going to start posting this little round up at the end of each week. Most of these shows are on Gaga and I highly recommend watching!

Chaser Game W

We've reached the stage with this one where I'm just gonna say we should keep watching for the ratings and enjoy the pretty gifs.

Tsukuritai Onna to Tabetai Onna 2

I got to watch episodes 5-8 of the new season this week, and I promptly lost my mind over how good this show is. It somehow got even better between seasons; the creators have some things to say about the experiences of women under heterosexual patriarchy. I already wrote about Kasuga's family trauma storyline and how much it meant to me, but these episodes also gave us Nomoto's ongoing queer awakening and journey to define her sexuality, the introduction of a new queer bestie in Yako, a better understanding of Nagumo and the careful and steady deepening of her relationship with the gals, a new confidant for Kasgua in Fujita, and Nomoto and Kasuga inching ever closer to defining what they are to each other. The world of the show and the support network around our leads continues to expand, and I am loving every moment. This drama is excellent and I cannot implore you enough to go to @furritsubs and catch up.

My Strawberry Film

Kicking off the last Drama Shower show of the season! This is a high school story featuring a classic trio—the Pining Gay, the Chaos Bisexual, and the Budding Lesbian. Obviously, I love them. I like the mood of this one—it's quite a tonal shift from the last show in this series—and the color grading is blue, blue, blue. And there's a mystery afoot as they try to track down the beautiful girl captured on film. Looking forward to more!

Sukiyanen Kedo Do Yaro ka

I continue to love this show, though I am not entirely sure how I feel about the turn things took with Mizuki this week. I did not really want this to go the full blown love triangle route; I am more interested in a version of this story where Sakae and Soga try to figure out these adult complications from the foundation of being in a relationship, not with the constant interference of a third party. So few dramas are willing to get the couple together early and let them face things together rather than constantly playing the will they, won't they game, and I was hoping Sukidoya was going to be one of them. That said, I like that Mizuki is sticking around in the story because he's an interesting character, and I like the conflict with Soga's job (we have a preponderance of Japanese shows about unreasonable work conditions airing atm) and the temporary nature of his time in Osaka. That he's worried about eventually leaving tells you all you need to know about how much he likes and respects Sakae. If he felt casual about him he would not be worried about complications that far down the timeline. Let's see where they take this love triangle thing next week; I'm hoping it will be brief.

Perfect Propose

Great episode this week, and I love the way they continue to deepen the backstory for these two. Hiro being the first person to need Kai rather than pity him makes so much sense for their dynamic and why Kai would be so attached to him. And of course, when Kai returns the situation is the same; Hiro definitely still needs him. I love that they took a source of shame for Hiro and turned it into a reason why he and Kai are so compatible. Kai wants to take care of him—and he's not the only one! Loved seeing Hiro's coworkers express concern for his well-being and recognize how this job is grinding him down and breaking his spirit. It was so validating to hear from another high performer that the job is miserable and he should quit. It has nothing to do with failure; as Kaneko said, it's about seeking the life he truly wants. He sees Hiro's talent and knows he will not be able to flourish in this hellish work environment, and I thought it was so kind and compassionate of him to try to help Hiro see that. Also shoutout to Hiyori for sitting her ass back down and missing the last train when she realized prime gossip was about to arrive to her table, she's just like me fr.

Ossan's Love Returns

We are clearly in the drama spiral for the season now, and this show seems to be coming for my beloved Kurosawa. Thanks, I hate it! But the show found its humor again this week even as the sad plotlines for the side characters continued, and I was very happy to see it back in top form. I loved this story with Maki and Haruta caring for Goro for the week, and how it affirmed for them that they are actually not interested in having children. I told @bengiyo and @twig-tea when we saw last week's preview that Maki seemed like the type who wouldn't like children, and I was glad to see that affirmed by the show, and crucially, that he didn't change his mind via the power of Goro's cuteness. Not all people want to be parents, and it's so nice and refreshing to see a loving couple decide they just want to focus on each other, and that you can like kids and spend time with them without needing to have one of your own. I loved, too, that we got some focus on Chizu's struggles as a single mom, and her family rallied around her and made it clear she has support. Takegawa's sudden not-at-all-selfishly-motivated interest in polyamory was hilarious, as was Chief's journey to figure out what was causing his stress—until it wasn't, of course. I was glad Chuoko was with him when he got the news. And I am really hoping that rooftop kiss was Kiku's goodbye, and we will be seeing him move on from Izumi soon.

Bonus: Kimi no Koto Dake Mite Itai 

Shoutout to @my-rose-tinted-glasses for giffing this show and reminding me I still hadn't seen it! It was not accessible to me back when it came out and it fell off my radar for awhile. I watched today and thought it was just delightful. A short, sweet, warm hug of a friends to lovers high school bl with two very lovable leads. I highly recommend checking it out.

[treedaddymcpuffpuff]

Beneath Miles of Stone - Part two - John Wick x Plus Size Fem Reader

Summary: John has been in prison for nine months. He’s content to stay if it means appeasing the high table and keeping peace between the owners of each continental. However, he meets someone who erases that willingness. Peace be dammed.

Trigger Warnings: violence against women ; fat-shaming

Part one here

She’s sore and exhausted by the time her shift ends, and all she really wants to do is snuggle up on the couch and re-watch The Exorcist III to do fair comparisons between here and the actual movie, but when she walks into the break room, Benny is sitting at the table with an empty, stained Pyrex container and smashed can of Pepsi.

“Hey,” he says, looking at her expectantly with what she interprets as perhaps a smile.

She nods at him, hoping they might have gotten off on the wrong foot. Hell, maybe they can be friends. “Hey, just heading out.”

“So soon? Wanted to talk to you for a minute.”

She grabs her bag from her locker, almost fumbles and drops it, and clutches her house keys between her knuckles (as if the thin blunt metal could even penetrate this guy’s beefy skin). Turning around to face him, her heart lurches to her stomach when she sees he’s standing up, blocking the doorway with a massive frame. No, it was definitely going to be the wrong foot after all.

“I really have to get going,” she tells him. Her voice is scared and quiet.

“Settle down, honey,” he says, “just wanted to ask you if you’d like to go camping next weekend? Me and some guys from work and you. How does that sound?”

It sounds fucking awful. It sounds like she needs to get out of here. Now. “I can’t, I have plans, maybe next time-“

“Don’t gimme that bullshit.” He takes a few steps toward her and she contemplates bolting for the door. “I know you don’t have plans. Who do you have them with? Your fridge?”

Her body recoils like he punched her in the gut.

He chuckles, and she can smell the onions he must’ve eaten for lunch. “Didn’t mean it like that.”

But he did. He absolutely did. And it shouldn’t make her feel like it does. This man is not nice, and his words should theoretically hold little value.

Her back hits the wall before she notices he is crowding in on her personal space, rabbit heart lurching when he gets close enough that his stomach almost touches her chest. Fear slashes through her like a cold blade.

“C’mon,” he urges, “live a little. We’re gonna have lots of booze, some weed if you like, you can get some attention.” His grin turns disgusting, just like his breath. The sudden, acidic urge to vomit clenches her stomach.

“I cant, sorry.” She tries to step around him but he clutches her shoulder and presses her back against the wall. Clumsily, she attempts to reach out and grab his arm but he catches her wrist and pins her other hand by her head.

Her body reacts instinctually and wildly to the entrapment. She flails out with her right leg to kick something—hopefully a vital body part.

Her thrashing doesn’t go over well with Benny. He lets go of her shoulder, grabs her by the side of her head, palm full of her hair, and slams her face against the grimy wall hard enough to make her vision turn static for a few moments.

Pain diffuses from behind her temple into the rest of her face. A pathetic noise of distress hisses from her mouth and nose.

“You don’t need to be so fucking rude,” Benny spits. “I’m offering you a good time and you’re being bitchy about it and trying to hurt me?”

She yelps like a dog when he grinds her face harder against the wall.

“Now, you gonna come camping?”

“Yes, yes.”

Thankfully, as soon as she frantically agrees, he drops her and backs off. “Great. I’ll hold you to it.” There’s a sinister promise in his tone, and she curses herself for not just agreeing right off the bat and saving herself some of the foretold agony.

She watches him pack up his food while standing still and shocked against the cold wall. It’s when he walks out that the tears begin to soak her cheeks, because she’s not going to give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry again. She slides to the floor, sobs and pants and chokes on thick emotion that she can’t control.

She can’t form a thought right now, can’t move. Has a full blown panic attack on the dirty stone, but she can’t stop it…All she can do is curl up into a ball and hyperventilate and sob like a baby.

At home, before her shower, she looks in the mirror and cringes at the dark bruises spreading from her hairline to her cheekbone. They are swollen and tender, making her wince when she scrubs her face, desperate to rid herself of the lingering feel of Benny’s touch.

She needs this job. It was hard enough finding another one that would take her after so many had failed before it. But, also, she doesn’t want the backlash of reporting Benny. He’s worked there a lot longer than her and she feels like management will be favorable to him because of it.

It will be worse if she calls the cops. They will take her report and then confront Benny, which would place an even bigger target on her back until the investigation clears. And she can’t just quit. Rent is due this week and her bank account has been barren for a while now.

She doesn’t know what to do, so she cries some more. In the shower, in the kitchen making ramen, on the couch where she falls to sleep, vowing while nodding off, in some desperate attempt to feel less helpless, to look for functioning security cameras in the break room, because she knows that actual evidence is hard to dispute.

If she’s being honest with herself, she’s terrified to see Benny again that night when she goes into work. She’s had a lot of curses in her life, but one blessing is the learned knowledge that men prone to violence will always utilize it again. Still, to be cornered by him and hurt is enough of a thought to chase her brain out of rationality. He already knows he can get away with whatever he wants and it’s too late to make a report now…If she was ever even planning to. A good 15 hours has passed since the incident and no cop or supervisor will take her seriously with the time gap, at least not without camera footage. Going into the break room and looking for cameras, however, means the possibility of running into Benny alone again.

She looks, for a long time, at her face in the rusted, cracked locker room mirror, at the ugly discoloration on her skin. She smooths her hands over her fleshy body, the paunch of her stomach, the jiggle of her arms and thighs, and wishes, for surprisingly not the first time, she were bigger*. No, maybe not bigger. Taller. Stronger. You’re already big enough,* her brain reminds. And that’s when she has to step away, because the negative thoughts will just avalanche and she can’t cry at work again.

She stays out in the open for the majority of her shift, exists where other people are and keeps her head down to avoid eye contact. She eats her employee provided turkey sandwich at the nurses desk. It works for the most part; she doesn’t see the burly guard and no one talks to her about the giant bruise on her face. She does, however, see some of his companions from last night, and she vaguely wonders which ones he’s…she’s…going camping with. The feeling of disgust, not at them but at herself for agreeing to the outing, bites at her heels.

And then John—his inquiry catches her off guard. She wonders if he’s genuinely concerned or if there is some motive behind his questioning because she’s not used to having someone be worried about her or even really asking her about herself. It’s the price of living in a big city with no family or friends around. Everyone is very good at ignoring everyone else, unless they have sinister intent. It makes her want to start bawling all over again.

But.

It also…feels strangely nice, this illusion that someone might care about her well-being, even if he’s a prisoner and her patient and she can’t think about him being anything other than that for professionalisms sake.

She really does need this job, but she’s not sure how to handle any of this. Unwanted attention from the prisoners is one thing here and there. Most of these men are lonely and haven’t seen any women in years besides the sparse ones that work with them, so she knew taking the job that they would possibly cat-call and say stupid shit just to get a rise out of her.

Between quietly burning with shame and staring intently at walls and floors instead of eyes, she has been pretty efficiently avoiding negative remarks, but feels hopeless thinking about circumventing someone she works with, someone who’s not in cuffs and not under control of the state. How the fuck is that supposed to work?

She guesses Benny is not here, does some counting on her fingers regarding time, figures that John’s guards change out roughly every six hours. Most of them sleep during the time that they are supposed to be watching him.

He can’t be that dangerous.

Healthcare liability and rules are a funny thing; you come to learn that most are for show, and policy-making CEO’s don’t even walk onto the field, but dictate what happens in it.

On top of all that, she doesn’t want to be afraid of John—mainly because she’s becoming afraid of everyone else here and her tolerance for feeling like a helpless woman is reaching its peak. That tolerance was never very high to begin with, though; when you live all your life as a larger girl, you get used to being strong and taking lead and defending your smaller friends and being tough. If you’re in a situation where you don’t feel that way, it’s quite uncomfortable.

So she’s not as scared of him tonight while she is changing his dressing, giving him water, and making sure he’s medicated. It’s kind of disgusting how these inmates are treated by the doctors and even some of her coworkers. She understands completely having problem patients that are rude and awful, but none of hers have been like that, especially not John. However, they all seem to severely lack hydration and pain control when she takes them on her assignment board.

“You can ask for pain pills every four hours,” she tells John while her hands work on his wound. It looks better already, edges beginning to turn plump pink and shiny. He bleeds a lot, soaks gauze pads and then the top of his pants, but he heals fast.

“Thank you, I didn’t realize.” There is barely any pain in his tone while she works on him, because her touch is soft—feather light when she’s not shaking with fear.

When she laughs, it makes him curious about what’s funny.

“You can also ask for water every now and again,” she reminds, once again baffling him with her concern. She almost sounds like she’s chiding him.

His mouth twitches into a tiny half-grin. “Thank you, nurse.”

It kind of sounds like he’s mocking her, so she stops the motion of her hands and looks up at him, matching his little smile with one of her own. “You’re welcome, patient.”

“Sorry,” he says, “I don’t know your name?”

She backtracks, not wanting him to think she’s upset about something so petty as him not knowing her name. How could he? She’s not allowed to wear her badge in the rooms because of liability, and the prisoners rarely know the names of their nurses. “No, that’s totally fine,” she rectifies, shaking her head. “You wouldn’t know my name.”

He is still grinning at her, like he’s won something. “What is it?”

“What?” She asks him.

“Your name?”

It just slips from her mouth, that sensitive piece of information. She is surprised at how comfortable she feels telling him.

He hums in approval, but still itches to ask about her bruise again. It’s lightening slowly, fading back into her hairline. He knows he will get angry, though, when she lies to him or brushes him off about it, and he has no desire to lay chained to a bed seething with nowhere to go and nothing to hit. He’s learned quickly that boredom, despite being terrible, is better than rage, especially when the rage has to stay inside, eating and burrowing deeper.

She feels awkward in this silence, like something is not being said, and she tries to let it go, but eventually has to say something to fill the tension. “This is healing up already.”

“Thanks are to you for that.” He loves to watch her blanch under the deserved flattery.

“Are you feeling any better?” She asks, changing the subject.

“Much,” he says honestly. “Again, my thanks for that.”

He’s not very good at this light conversation; he’d rather, if they are talking, delve into questions about her life. However, that would undoubtedly inspire her deer heart to sprint away and never come back, so he tries for minimal talk because it’s the only thing he can do while chained to this bed. He’s not used to speaking this much. It’s been months since he’s held an actual discussion and he’s never been a good conversationalist, but if it’s the only tool he can utilize to interact with her then that’s what he’ll use.

“Do you ever ask them to let you change positions?” She asks. “Getting bed sores sucks.”

There she is with the recommendations and concerns again. He tilts his head at her, and certainly does not look adorable while doing so.

“Yeah, you know, bed sores, they develop on your back or butt and burrow until they hit bone?”

“What?” He asks.

She laughs, and John loves the sound. “A hole in your ass..?”

He huffs playfully. “I know what they are. Why does it matter?” It’s a sincere question, one that he hopes doesn’t make her shrink back.

She looks from his bloody stomach to his eyes, blinks. “You are my patient,” she tells him, “I am taking care of you.”

How did this wicked world, instead of eating her alive as it should have, spit her out directly into his path? Maybe it knew that he would have more taste for her?

His face softens into a playful smile. “I can turn on my own.” To prove this, he pivots on one hip to face her with his body. She jumps back a little, but laughs at him.

He motions to her cheek, the bruise that muddles her pretty skin, skin that he knows will be softer than silk. “And who takes care of you?”

“I do.” There is defiance in her innocent eyes, now, the set of her jaw.

He is not smiling at her anymore, not when she means to oppose him. If he listens to her advice, now she will listen to his. “It doesn’t look like you’re doing a very good job.” The tone of his voice matches how low it cuts her, the addition to her name at the end of that sentence driving the knife hilt-deep into her flimsy sense of self defense.

She can’t help it. Defiance crumbles and reveals sadness. She looks back down at his wound with water tickling her eyelashes.

He wants to tell her to look back at him, wants to see her vulnerable and raw and admitting defeat. Admitting that he is right. That she needs someone to look after her. At her word he will gladly break from these shackles and follow his nurse out into the cruel world.

She doesn’t say anything else, doesn’t utter the chant to release him from his bonds. A few tears roll down her face and drop onto his bed as she finishes the dressing. His frustration turns to empathy in milliseconds, because he didn’t mean to make her cry, but is an absolute imbecile for not anticipating it.

“I’m sorry,” he tells her quickly, desperately, then reaches for her hand.

“It’s okay,” she responds, looking down at where they connect, at where her pudgy fingers are dwarfed by his stocky, warm hold. “Do you need anything else?”

He feels his heart rip into two pieces. “No.”

She gives his pinky a little squeeze, proving his theory that she is made of satin and cashmere, then leaves him alone to clean this sickly sweet gore in his chest all by himself.

[thebellearchives]

hihi can i request fluff prompt 22 with mephisto??

𝐁𝐑𝐄𝐀𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐈𝐂𝐄

~ mephistopheles ; obey me

✧˚ · . S Y N O P S I S : Mephisto is a man who’s not easy to decipher, how many times do you have to break the ice for him to warm up to you?

‧₊˚ c o n t e n t s : gn!mc, fluff, a tiny little spoiler from the OG last season?

‧₊˚ a / n : omg i’m so happy i got a Mephisto req, i’m forever unfortunately in love with him 🖤 enjoy ~ (this one isn’t proofread either jsjd sorry)

Being part of the student council was draining to say the least, there was always something to do. Most of the chores related to dealing face to face with the students were usually given to Beel or Satan, but when it came to paperwork and similar tasks? Those were reserved for Lucifer, Diavolo and you. It was Friday afternoon, and the Newspaper club windows had been closed for a while. Still, the chill of the wind from outside somehow found it’s way into the room, it almost felt like someone had left the A/C on. And to be fair, you weren’t sure if the cold was due to the weather or it was just Mephistopheles’ presence next to you.

You had definitely talked to him a couple of times before, you had even shared some drinks with him at a party once, but he was such a complicated man. It just felt like no matter how many times you broke the ice with him it would just come back the next time your eyes met. You started shivering slightly, shifting in between newspaper pages and trying to use the silence in favour of your concentration. You weren’t successful, specially when you felt Mephisto’s eyes drilling into your frame from the side.

“Are you cold?” he scoffed.

“No”.

Silence. Your eyes scanned words as fast as you could, knowing you weren’t actually reading any of the words. He groaned loudly, you could almost see him rolling his eyes from the sound alone.

“This is completely unnecessary, I told Lord Diavolo I could do this on my own. Quite frankly it’s not like I need a human’s help” he desperately moved away the papers and grabbed new ones, never losing that classic prideful tone in his voice.

“Trust me, if I could I wouldn’t be here on a Friday afternoon” you mumbled in annoyance “specially not with this weather.”

“What was that?” his voice almost perked up, probably ready to jump into a five hour rant about how you couldn’t handle the cold.

“Nothing. I'm only here because you got demoted from your Leader position at the Newspaper Club.”

He scoffed once again.

“I don’t regret anything.”

“Really?” raising an eyebrow, you turned to him “you’re so into journalism I imagined getting demoted felt like a punch in the guts. Specially since it was Lucifer himself the one who downgraded you.”

“Well, I’m still here aren’t I?” his gloved hands made sure to fix the stack of papers neatly “that arrogant prick’s gonna need more than Lord Diavolo’s favour to get rid of me.”

You smiled, watching his almost glowy green eyes examine files thoroughly. There was something about Mephisto’s haughty perseverance that somehow seemed captivating to you. You watched as his fingers elegantly reordered the newspapers, he fixed a magenta hair strand away from his eyes before looking back to you.

“What are you all smiley for?”

You shrugged, smiling wider.

“Those stickers you made are awesome”

The compliment made him smile too. Smirking, he turned back to his papers.

“Of course they are. Every time I see people at RAD using them I know it was worth it. I just know it grays Lucifer’s hair each time someone sends that sticker.”

“Lucifer looks so happy riding that adorable unicorn” a hearty laugh left your lips, Mephisto started chuckling too, you went back to your papers as well.

“I specially like the unbothered expression in the unicorn’s face”

You snorted, both of you shaking in contained laughter. You sighed and switched the files, another shiver running down your neck and causing goosebumps on your skin.

Mephisto’s curious eyes studied you for a second, before grabbing your stack of papers and moving them over next to his.

“Hey!”

“You’re cold, come here” for someone so elegant, the way he dragged you closer to him had zero class. But when he placed an arm around you and rubbed your shoulder to warm you up you just couldn’t complain.

Blushing, you smiled and brought your papers closer to the table’s edge.

“Thank you”