#personally I think it’s beer I feel like my heart is killing itself with beer hangovers

[mr-bas00nist]

Hii! itz my bday and I was wondering if u could write a fic (or drabble if u want) of how u think jjk men (Nanami, Gojo, Toji, Sukuna, Choso) would celebrate it with top!m!reader (Sfw + nsfw is fine, whatever ur comfy with :)

feel free to ignore, I just luv ur fics ✨🏳️‍🌈

Happy belated omg, as an apology for taking so long with this I’m doing all of them lol :)

Celebration of You! Feat. Husband reader and the boys

Sukuna

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- he’s got a weird love language

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- he kinda just ignores you in my opinion

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Its his way of showing that if he’s not killing your or belittling you, you did something right

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- on your birthday though, he makes an exception

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- sends uraume on their way to get you gifts while he just enjoys your presence

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- he’ll be more love dovey with you which is weird and new!

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- but your birthday itself you two will just enjoy each other’s company in the quarters

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- I personally don’t think Sukuna is huge on sex tbh

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- not that he doesn’t like it, just to busy and doesn’t want to submit to his human/carnal desires

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- another exception he’ll make

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- if it makes you happy he’ll let you put your dick in his ass and make him sing happy birthday while fucking

Toji

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- broke ass nga 😭

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- nah im playing, but don’t be expecting no gifts

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- playing again, he’s bad with money but he’ll save up

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- nothing too expensive though, he’d probably just take you to your favorite restaurant while you two talk

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Can’t wait to get home, sucks you off in car 100%

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- then lets you shove his face into the door’s window as you rail him

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Yes people have seen, no he doesn’t care

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- night ends in cuddling

Nanami <3

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Oh Kento, oh Kento, where do I even begin

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- sweet baby angel is the best

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- he’ll wake you up with some breakfast and bed and tender kisses

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- maybe even a blowjob if he’s feeling it

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- All day is just filled with fun activities

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- making little clay figures in the house, baking together, watching tv

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- the perfect man

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- He’ll tell you all day how much he loves you and how lucky he is to have you

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Maybe even get up to some reading of those stupid books

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- you two definitely nap for a little bit

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- the night’s filled with a nice homemade dinner and some expensive wine or beer

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- While you’re finishing your food he gets on a nice tight lingerie he bought for this

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- puts his robe over it

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- he’ll pull you upstairs and let you undress him

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- even with all the fancy watches or things he’d buy you he’s still the best present

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- he’ll give you passionate head, them ride you to your hearts content

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- no working on your special day, it’s his job right now

Gojo

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- just buys you shit tbh

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- I know it’s always brought up but I think Gojo struggles with physicality to be fair

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- his money and status is sometimes the only way he thinks he can please you

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- which is a huge lie

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- but expect watches and new suits on your birthday

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Also lots of desserts and fancy dinner

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- in the restaurant he’s clawing you to fuck him in the bathroom

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- then after dinner you’ll bend him over the sink, hold his hair and watch him whine and cry

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Who gives a fuck about people hearing, he’s saved people’s asses enough to not care

Choso

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- very touchy with you

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- I think he’s always touchy because he stumbles on his words a lot

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- relationships are very new to him

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Will keep you in bed all day while you two just nap and relax with each other

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- lots of cuddle fucking and lazy sex

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- moans and groans of “I love you’s” and “feels so good”

⁺‧₊˚ ཐི⋆♱⋆ཋྀ ˚₊‧⁺- Very chill day with him to be fair

A/n: just some drabbles lol, happy belated!

[minniethemoocherda]

Am I Pretty Enough To Fucking Die?

A/N: Sorry it's been a while since I've posted! IRL stuff got kinda busy for a minute! But I hope it was worth the wait! Also this takes place before my last fic "Saying Something Stupid" Xxxxxxx

Ao3

FF.net

They should have realised the first time that they should have died.

They had spent so long in their human form back then that they had nearly been successful in making themselves forget what it was like to be in their natural liquid state. But subconsciously, they mustn't have had, as it was all too easy for Sinister to bring them back from death.

Countless of the countless experiments Sinister put them should have killed them. At times they wished that he had. But as much as it felt like he was trying too kill them, Sinister always brought them back to life.

It wasn't until when Sentinel-Trask shot a fireball at their face, and they heard Logan scream their name in a repeat of that first fatal night, that the thought first came to them. Because whilst the force of having their body ripped apart hurt like hell itself, it could only have been half an hour later that they were able to pull the burnt blobs of their body back together.

Logan refused to leave their side for at least a week after that and whilst Morph wasn't going to complain, they couldn't help but wonder if the extra protection was even necessary.

Morph had no idea about the science behind it but they knew that somehow they didn't need a brain to function. That the few times they reverted back to a full liquid state, just because they didn't have a physical brain to control them, didn't mean they couldn't. Whenever they were in a human form they would create whatever they needed to move their body, such as their heart or lungs or whatever gendered organs they were feeling that day, even though technically they didn't need them to function, as e it would hurt if one of those concocted organs were injured, as it was their cells that were getting damaged, at the end of the day, they could just shift themselves a new one.

They knew that there were other shapeshifters out there. Mystique being the most famous amongst them. Morph had never met her in person but they had read her file. They knew that she could also change their internal organs, it was how Nightcrawler had come into existence after all. And Beast theorised that she could shift at a cellular, maybe even atomic level. But her natural state was still human, a blue skinned and yellow eyed one but human non the less. Whereas Morph's natural state was as a pile of gloop.

Currently they were in what the team saw as their normal form, pale grey skin with a featureless face. The others did know that it wasn't their real form, but Morph doubted that many of them remembered that.

Except for Logan of course, who knew them better than anyone.

They were sitting besides The Wolverine now, a half forgotten game of go-fish scattered across the table between them and bottles of beer keeping them warm against the chill of the evening breeze.

Stealing glances at Logan wasn't anything new for them but this time was different. They gazed at how the last rays of sun illuminated the sharp edge of his nose, wondering how many sunsets that face had seen. Morph believed that Logan was a sight that they would never tire of seeing.

"You gonna keep starin' or are you gonna ask whatever's in that bald head of yours?" Logan grumbled after Morph must have been looking for too long.

The liver and stomach they'd created, digested the alcohol, giving their body a warm buzz, which was probably why Morph didn't think much before opening their mouth.

"When did you realise that you were immortal?"

Judging by the look on Logan's face that wasn't what he had expected them to ask but he answered anyway.

"The first time I remember getting shot in the head."

"Yeah but how did you know, for certain that you were immortal?"

"I don't. Not yet." Logan shrugged. "Beast reckons that gettin' my head cut off would probably do the trick but I ain't plannin' on testin' that out." He then fixed them with those sharp blue eyes of his. "Why?"

Morph took a deep breath. Honestly after coming out as gay and non-binary, this wasn't half as scary.

"I don't think I can die."

"Oh shit." Logan replied after a moment, rare genuine shock crossing his grizzled features. "You sure?"

"Not yet." Morph repeated back to him in his own voice.

"Well I definitely ain't helpin' you test that out either." Logan snorted as though the pair of them were just shooting the breeze, as though this conversation was a completely normal thing to talk about. As thought this was just nothing thing to add to the list of things they had in common like their love of beer, enjoying taking the piss out of Scott and past psychological torture.

But then Logan had always been the only one who understood them. It was what made him so easy to talk to. Almost too easy. Which made it hard not to tell him how they truly felt.

"Looks like you're stuck with me then old man." They said instead.

"Huh." Before Morph had the chance to reflect on that reflective tone, Logan continued. "Well I can think of worse people to be stuck for eternity with."

"Worse then me?" Morph said through the sharp teeth of Sabertooth's mouth.

"If you spend the rest if time dressed up at Creed, I'll kill you myself." Logan said, punctuating his point with the familiar snikt of his claws.

Then the crease in Logan's brow tensed into something sharper.

"Look, sometimes it's harder to be the one who survives. And just 'cus you can't die don't mean you can't feel pain." Logan stated, watching the sun as it finally sunk bellow the horizon.

They both knew that he wasn't talking about the physical kind of pain. It probably wasn't the healthiest conclusion to come to when dealing with ones own mortality or lack there of, but the thought that they couldn't stop coming back to was that it meant that they would never again be able to hurt Logan again with their death.

Then Logan put his claws away, stroking the red of his knuckles as he cleared his throat.

"So don't go looking for new ways to give us all heart attacks alright. I-we don't like seeing you get hurt."

"Trust me I'm not." Morph snorted. "You don't have to worry about me."

Steel blue eyes met their empty grey ones.

"I'll always worry about you."

It wasn't an I love you, and it probably never would be but, promising to care for them for the rest of eternity would most likely be the closest Morph would ever get and they would hold those words forever in their fabricated heart.

Morph honestly hadn't thought too deeply about their new realisation. After coming to terms with their gender and sexuality this was just another thing to add to the long lost of weird shit they'd learnt about themselves.

But it was a comfort to know that whatever life might throw at them, they would always have Logan by their side.

A/N: So the concept of Morph being made of gloop has really stuck in my head and got me thinking how they can function without organs and if they don't need them, then what could actually kill them?? Like they get blasted in the chest in the OG show?? Then Sentinal-Trask blasts them too and we even see them turn to gloop in that shot!!?? So yeah my latest headcanon is that like Logan, they too are potentially immortal! Xxxxxx

[deadgirlwalking91]

new update - 'thank you for the venom', chapter 2: 'fitting you with weapons in the form of words'

Chapter One

Chapter 2 Summary

Lute addresses the Exorcists with changes to the program.

...or at least, attempts to.

Can I just say a huuuuuuuuge thank you to those who read the first chapter of this silly little story? And another thank you to those who liked, reblogged and commented? You're all legends!!!

ao3 queue update - I'm number 24,363 in the queue, so more than halfway from where I started to an invite!

***

Chapter 2

The Common Room, Exorcist Training Centre, Heaven

There were precisely three times in Lute’s life that she could recall being so anxious she wanted to vomit.

The first time was minutes prior to her maiden voyage down into Hell. Her nerves had taken over to the point where, during Adam’s address before they descended through the portal to the realm below, she’d made sure to hide at the back of the crowd behind her sisters-in-arms. She’d hoped that the gateway to Hell would close before she had the chance to fly through, and she could stay behind in Heaven where she knew it was safe. Where she didn’t have to stress about being a disappointment if her performance wasn’t up to scratch.

As it turned out, Lute had no reason to worry. She had a natural talent for slaughter, and when she was armed with a sword, she was downright lethal. Once she stepped foot on the brimstone-covered streets of Hell, it was like a kill-switch had automatically been triggered somewhere deep inside her brain. No less than one hundred and sixty-seven Sinners were exterminated at her hands that year, earning her the highest individual amount for a rookie Exorcist ever recorded. She’d even been congratulated personally by Sera at the informal post-Extermination party that year, who didn’t usually attend such frivolous events, but she made a point of deliberately stopping past to seek out Lute and offer her praise.

“I’m going to keep my eye on you,” Sera had promised, her serene voice the only sound Lute could focus on despite the blaring music and drunken chanting vibrating through her ears. Out of the corner of her eye, she could see one of her fellow soldiers chugging expertly from a beer bong, golden ale dripping down her chin as other Exorcists and Adam egged her on.  “Continue the hard work, and you’ll do great things, soldier. I know it.”

The second time was a considerably less serious situation, yet an experience Lute found nothing short of mortifying: Vaggie had accidentally stumbled across her secret collection of romance novels one night when she was over visiting.

Romance wasn’t something that Lute had the patience for in her day-to-day life – in fact, she could think of nothing worse than having to share her time, her thoughts, her bed with somebody else. That would mean dropping her callous, tough-bitch façade and exposing the fact that she had feelings.

No. She had a reputation to uphold and as such, it was far easier to be alone and dedicate her focus to her work.

That didn’t mean that she couldn’t switch off at night and escape reality for an hour or two. Most nights, after meticulously cleaning her apartment and ensuring any outstanding work was completed, she’d curl up on her two-seater sofa under a blanket, hot chocolate in one hand and novel in another. She found an inexplicable comfort between the pages of those books, allowing them to stir emotions inside her that she would only allow to be felt when she was off-duty and alone. Some pages made her pulse quicken and pale cheeks flush as golden as the sun itself if they were particularly steamy. The more tender stories, however, stirred her softer side, making her stomach flutter and heart skip a beat.

She’d even shed a tear once at a particularly moving epilogue, though she’d rather tear her own arm off than ever admit it out load.

So, when Vaggie had opened Lute’s wardrobe that chilly evening to borrow a hoodie and noticed the box of poorly-hidden books – most of the covers depicting couples in various stages of undress, locked in compromising positions – Lute wanted nothing more than for the ground to open up and swallow her whole. It was the one guilty pleasure that she had for herself, and she couldn’t bear the thought of what would happen if her secret was exposed to her sisters. Her whole ‘tough bitch’ persona would be shattered, and then what?

“I swear to God, if you breathe a fucking word of this to anybody, Vaggie I will beat the living shit out of you.”  

“Relax,” Vaggie had laughed, studying the cover of one book through tears of mirth. “I won’t tell the girls that deep down, their Lieutenant is secretly a sucker for happily-ever-afters with a side of throbbing co-”

Lute seized her opportunity to tackle Vaggie to the ground and wrestle the tattered paperback from her friend’s hands, taking good measure to ‘accidentally’ whack her with it once or twice. Though she never stopped teasing Lute about her guilty pleasure, Vaggie stayed true to her word: she never told a soul about Lute’s dirty little secret, to which she was incredibly thankful for.

Those scenarios though, as nerve-wrecking and embarrassing as they were, paled in comparison to how Lute felt in this present moment: standing in front of her hundreds of peers, feeling the Commander’s eyes boring into her back, basically burning two holes directly through her shoulder blades. She knew he was daring her to fuck up, and there was no chance she was going to give him that satisfaction.

“Exorcists. Recently, there have been some concerns raised regarding the future of Extermination Day.”

Light murmurs started to ripple through the crowd of women, which didn’t help the bubbling feeling threatening to rise Lute’s abdomen. She flexed and clenched her left wrist in a feeble attempt to distract herself from her own nerves.

She was used to this. Whispering was fine. Nothing to worry about, totally normal, in fact. Besides, this happened all the time during Adam’s speeches – though usually, her sisters-in-arms were laughing at one of his inane jokes.

Reel them back in, Lieutenant.

“Be quiet.” Lute commanded sternly, and to her relief, the whispers died down almost instantly.  “After extensive analysis, we have concluded that – ”

“We? Ladies, just so you’re aware, I’ve had absolutely nothing to do with the bomb your lieutenant is about to drop on you.” Adam strode over next to where Lute was standing and bent down to mockingly rest his elbow on her right shoulder, his mask twisted into a smug grin. “If you think she’s a bitch now – and, you’re totally right, she absolutely is - you ain’t seen nothing yet.”

Lute exhaled sharply, trying not to let her frustration take over, and shrugged Adam’s arm off her shoulder with slightly more force than needed. Adam knew he had her cornered – if she reacted to his taunts, she’d be just as childish as he was. If she ignored him, she wouldn’t give him the rise that he was hoping to get out of her, but consequently she’d probably give off the impression that she was tolerating his attitude. Neither of those options were preferable – unfortunately, the lesser of two evils was to push through.

“Thanks, Commander, for your input, but I’d like to get back to the matter at hand if you don’t mind.”

“Sure thing, babe.” Adam waved a hand carelessly, indicating his boredom. “This is your gig, I’m just the supporting act, right?”

Lute ignored the jab as she felt the heat rising in her cheeks. The whispering had started again, and she knew she had to act quickly to get her sisters attention back to the matter at hand otherwise she’d lose their interest completely. She locked eyes with Vaggie at the front of the crowd, who gave her a quick thumbs up, the subtlest of reassuring smiles plastered across her otherwise expressionless mask. At least somebody was in her corner this morning. She wiped her now-sweating hands on the skirt of her training uniform and continued with the speech she’d rehearsed at least a hundred time over the past few days.

“Our Extermination Day kill count has been in steady decline over the past decade. As a result, Hell’s population continues to rise – we estimate growth of about twenty percent over the last three years alone. At this rate-”

Adam coughed loudly and pointedly. “Nerd.”

The whispers grew louder as they echoed off the walls of the room; the Exorcists now not bothering to hide the fact that they were talking amongst themselves. Their voices rang in Lute’s ears, drowning out her will to persevere with her speech. She tried to focus on her breathing to calm her stomach, but the thickness of the air around her only made her increasingly aware of just how damn suffocating her helmet was.

“What is going on with them?”

“I hope she punches him in the face!”

“That’s only because you’re mad he didn’t call you after-”

“ENOUGH!”

The chatter amongst the Exorcists stopped immediately at the unexpected sound of Lute’s raised voice, the identical eyes on their masks all widening in shock. Lute wasn’t known for losing her temper at her fellow Exorcists. Sure, on the battlefield she took no prisoners, and within the training compound she was strict, but she always known to uphold a professional demeanour in front of her peers.

Well, except for the time she threw a mug at her boss’ head. That was different, though. He deserved it.

“I don’t want another fucking interruption again this morning.” Lute growled, not bothering to disguise the anger in her tone. Professionalism be damned, she was going to get through this. “From anybody.” She looked pointedly at Adam, who held his hands up as if to say, ‘what did I do?’.

“We need to turn this decline around fast if we have any chance of improving our stats by next Extermination Day, or we risk further overpopulation in Hell. As of this morning, we’re taking a different approach with our training.  We’re going back to basics. None of you are wielding a single weapon or touching the simulator until we get the foundations right. Physical conditioning. Mental resilience. Hand-to-hand combat. When – and only when – I see significant improvement in those areas, you’ll pick up a weapon again.”

Great recovery, Lieutenant.

Lute pulled her helmet off her head, inhaling sharply and savouring those first few unrestricted breaths. Feeling the coolness of the air on her face refreshed her flustered state, grounding her once again. She set it down on a chair behind her and began to remove her gloves and boots.

“Going back to basics also means we’re not wearing these helmets during training for the time being. Or our boots, or gloves, or neck armour – you’ll never learn properly if you’re physically restricted. Moving forward, you’ll come to training in leggings, crop tops and trainers. We’ll reintroduce personal equipment once we build our skills back up. Get your helmets and armour off.”

The sound of metal clinking and armour hitting the floor echoed throughout the common room as her sisters removed their helmets and protective gear. Sensing she had a moment to herself, Lute ran her hands through her hair, separating the silvery strands that had been compressed together under the weight of her helmet. Closing her eyes, she tilted her head back and massaged her scalp where the top of the helmet had irritated it, the sensation from the pressure eliciting a low ‘mmm’ from the back of her throat.

“Is that all it takes to make you moan? You’d be such a freak in the sheets, Lieutenant.” A low voice murmured in Lute’s ear, sending tiny shock waves that pulsated throughout her entire body, causing her eyes to flutter open.

He was so unexpectedly close to her; she could practically feel the smug satisfaction emanating off his body like a radiant heat. He’d deliberately sidled up next to her as he whispered so softy that only she could hear his voice, the silk of his robes just grazing the sensitive feathers of her right wing. Goosebumps spread up the back of Lute’s neck, the uneasy feeling that had been lying dormant in her stomach for several minutes now back with an unrelenting vengeance.

“Can you fucking not?” She snapped, ruffling her feathers in a futile attempt to create a barrier between them, trying to erase the closeness between them that she was now all too aware of. Not budging, he began to laugh – not just a small chuckle either, but a proper belly-laugh, his hands clutching at the front of his robes.

“Sorry babe, but that’s not usually a sound someone makes when they scratch their head. Coming from somebody as uptight as you though, it was basically pornographic.” He turned away from Lute towards the back of the room, reaching under his mask to wipe a tear away from the corner of his eye. “Look, you even made me cry. Funny shit.”

“Hilarious. Respectfully, Sir, go deep throat a cactus. How’s that for pornographic?”

 The last word of Lute’s sentence rang throughout the room as she slowly came to the realisation that the Exorcists had finished removing their gear some time ago and had been watching the back-and-forth between her and Adam for God knows how long.

Long enough for them to confirm what they were already suspicious of: that there was some kind of unspoken, private war raging between their Lieutenant and Commander.

“Right!” Lute barked, stepping away from Adam to create as much distance between them as possible. In her peripheral vision, his shoulders continued to shake with silent laughter.

“We’re moving into Hall One, ladies. Today’s the day I start whipping you bitches into shape. If I hear any complaints, you get burpees. If I see any slacking off or fucking around, you get burpees. Clear?”

“Yes, Lieutenant!” the crowd chimed in unison, before filing out of the room, their chatter filling the awkward silence that had hung in the air moments ago. Without a second glance back at Adam, she collected her discarded uniform and strode after her peers.

As Lute made her way into the training hall, she couldn’t help but notice the feeling in her stomach had shifted. The anxiety from just under her chest had finally dissipated, leaving behind an unfamiliar, burning feeling deep in her abdomen that she couldn’t quite place.

Shaking her head, she chalked it down to relief at finally getting through the morning address and shifted her focus to the task at hand.

It was time to start training her girls.

***

Stay tuned for the next chapter! I'm not naming the chapters for this story, but if I could name the next one.. it would be 'Dangertits'.

[infiniteeight8]

Prompt: continuation for the obsession verse , like their first time together or people's reaction to their relationship. (Prompt sent via messeges.)

I do want to write their first time, I swear, but for now you are getting Rhodey’s reaction to their relationship.

*

“Rhodey-bear!” Tony greets him, grinning broadly and slapping him on the shoulder. “It’s been too long since we’ve had some us-time. I’m glad you could make it.” He leads James into the kitchen, opens the fridge, and pulls out a beer to hand to him.

James takes the bottle, smiling back, if less broadly. “I wouldn’t miss it,” he promises. “I’m only sorry the brass have kept me so busy.” Some of the developments in Tony’s life lately seem… Well, Pepper had sounded genuinely worried.

“You know I can fix that,” Tony says, taking a beer for himself and leading them back out to the living room couches. He flops down easily. “I may not have the pull that I did back in the day, but the military still wants me for my body armor, among other things.”

“And you know I don’t want you boosting my career,” James counters. He sits on the couch opposite Tony and puts his feet up. “Not any more than being your friend does all by itself, anyway,” he says wryly. Tony makes a derisive noise but lets it go. “So,” James goes on, trailing his voice off leadingly for a moment. “What’s this I hear about you dating Strange? Aren’t I supposed to vet your partners?” James laughs a little, because that’s always been mostly a joke between them. It feels less like a joke this time.

Tony’s chuckle is more honest. “What can I say? He swept me off my feet. Almost literally: we turned that corner at one of the Superhuman Defense Fund galas.”

Damn. That’s longer than Pepper had thought. “And you really like the guy?”

Tony’s eyes light up and he sits up out of his sprawl, leaning forward instead. “He’s amazing, Rhodey. I mean, obviously he’s gorgeous, but he’s also brilliant. Magic is one thing, but you should hear him talk medicine. Plus, he looks at me like I hung the fucking moon. He’ll drop anything short of a life or death emergency just to talk to me. It’s like… I think he thinks I’m the most important person in the world. Not just to him, either, the most important person, period.” 

James sits up, too, and chooses his words carefully. “He sounds a little intense.”

“Intense, or obsessed?” Tony asks, smirking. 

Of course he sees right through James. “Pepper’s told me some things,” James admits. “Honestly? I was a little worried he wouldn’t want you to see me.”

Tony scoffs and takes a swig from his beer. “Look, I do actually get where that concern comes from, I’m not blind, but Stephen knows how important you are to me. Taking some time for the two of us to hang out tonight was his idea, believe it or not.”

“Seriously?”

“Cross my heart and hope to die,” Tony says, making an X over his heart. “Except not really, Stephen would kill me. And with his power set, I’m not ruling that out as a literal impossibility.”

A laugh escapes James despite himself. “You know I’m in favor of anyone who gets you to take care of yourself,” he says, ��it’s just… Pepper says sometimes he just pops out of a portal and sits there watching you. I did some checking, and it seems like he might have been poking around your confidential records. And weird shit has been happening to people who talk shit about you in public.” 

Tony doesn’t look surprised by any of this. “What kind of weird shit?” He takes another sip of his beer.

“One guy swears after he made a comment about you and reckless driving, every stoplight he approached for a week went red,” James says. “A journalist who published an article speculating that you were still dealing in weapons under the table claims they couldn’t tell a lie for a month. The woman who wrote that so-called ‘exposé’ about your ongoing drug use had to be checked into the psych ward for three days because she started seeing monsters all over New York.” James could go on, but Tony’s smirking. “It’s true, isn’t it? All of that, it was Strange.”

“Is it such a bad thing that someone wants to come to my defense?” Tony asks. “None of them were hurt, right? None of those three, and none of the others, either.”

“Well, the wife of the guy who couldn’t lie left him,” James says. “But other than that… no.”

“There you go, then.” Tony takes another swig from his beer.

James hesitates. “Just because no one got hurt doesn’t mean that it’s okay. This is not normal behavior, Tony. If you’re not worried about what Strange is doing to these people, aren’t you a little worried that he’s keeping such close tabs on you that he knows about these things what seems to be the second they happen?”

Tony finishes his beer and sets it aside. “Look,” he says seriously. “I am absolutely aware that this isn’t normal behavior. Stephen isn’t normal. And neither am I. I’ve tried to do normal relationships. I tried really fucking hard with Pepper, Rhodey, you know I did. But you tell me: was I happy?”

“No,” James admits, sighing. Tony had put on a pretty good show with Pepper. James thinks that he even convinced himself he was happy, for a while. But it wasn’t real.

“Stephen makes me happy,” Tony says. After a moment he snorts and flops back against the couch again. “And like everything else that’s ever made me happy, if it blows up in my face I know you and Pep will be there to help pick me up after.”

Despite everything, James smiles and says only, “Always, Tones.

Because that’s the first time Tony has ever said “if it blows up” instead of “when it blows up.”

[neonmetro]

Sorry for the second ask, but I'm really Ulysses brainrotted, and Ulysses, to be quite honest deserves its own ask. . .

I love this guy so much chat, everything I see this dude it just makes me so happy. He's so miserable and such a loser !!!!

I also just love seeing new content and art of him :)) so if you have any of that I would really appreciate it. When I get around to drawing it, IT'S SO OVER FOR ALL OF YOU TRUST.

I fear we are in the same boat if I may suggest such a thing because what the hell. He's been rotting my brain since day one, I fear you infected me with whatever disease he's giving out /SILLY /POS

I JUST LOVE THIS DUDE, THANK YOU NEON 🫶🏽 I really need to thank you for bringing back my Odyssey and Iliad hyperfixation because that was a peak time in my life

-Ulysses loving anon

ULYSSES NUMERO UNO ALWAYS MY GOAT!!! (GRANDPA OF ALL TIME) ️‍🔥️‍🔥️‍🔥️‍🔥️‍🔥

OF COURSE!!! i love the odyssey and iliad and i love putting him in situations... it's a fair trade imo

idk if i have any new lore to really share but i do wanna elaborate on his obsession with penelope...

penelope was the first person he's ever truly loved with all his heart, she could match and outsmart him at every turn and he wouldn't even feel that bad about it, in fact he'd only create more and more elaborate schemes and its their little game. her joy wasn't rare, but her smile was always a reward for ulysses and he would kill a hundred and eight men just to see it another time if he could.

but at a certain point, ulysses completely changed as a person and he can't keep up with her without self sabotaging or tearing down others. he honestly valued his family to the highest regards but the war slowly chipped away at that, making him even more distrustful of everyone and being just. physically isolated from everything he's previously makes him insane

AND ON THE CHERRY ON TOP IS HE WAS JUST SO DISTRACTED FROM THE WAR THAT HE DIDN'T REALIZE HE WAS DESTROYING ALL HIS RELATIONSHIPS ️‍🔥️‍🔥 the divorce was another game as a warning to ulysses that he WILL lose penelope forever if only now he tries to talk to her and suffice to say. he did lose her

he does genuinely try to get over her (rebounding like every other week) but the way he does it is STILL SELF DESTRUCTIVE AND OBSESSIVE. ALWAYS IS FINDING PARTS IN EVERYONE THAT IS LIKE HER AND HIS LONGER RELATIONSHIPS ARE ALWAYS PEOPLE WHO SHARE A OBVIOUS SIMILARITY TO HER.

so while his love life is burning like the walls of troy, it throws itself in it's work, constantly cycling through jobs and trying to find something that's somewhat fulfilling (nothing feels good so he just puts up with shitty jobs just to buy beer (WHICH ALSO HAS SOME FREAKY DEAKY SHIT TO IT.) and eventually when he becomes a corphead he literally stresses out all his employees by giving them five thousand different research projects just to feel something

one of his most favorite/important memories is him and penelope sharing crypiot and in lcb his base ego is depicting him in his house eating w/ penelope and he drinks only beer bc it reminds him of her (bc she'd drink it. and he'd drink it with her.) he prefers wine taste wise but will always drink beer for her

i do think the one true love trope is a little toxic but i do think penelope would try to give ulysses another chance after so many years bc telemachus is trying to bond with his father again (plus he just killed a hundred people in her name so its kind of hot)

sorry this one is less linear and more rambly... sighs and looks into the distance

[miraakulous-cloud-district]

5 songs tag! 🎼🎵🎻🪕🥁🪘

My dear @bougainvillea-and-saltwater tagged me to list 5 songs that fit with my fic, 'Wherever you go, there you are' so here it is!

1. "Follow you" by Imagine Dragons. This is the first song that came to mind because it fits so well with the friendship and found family theme of the fic. This is the fellowships anthem more or less, because it really shows how close they are and how they'd always be by Ravonna's side! The chorus is especially fitting here: "I will follow you way down wherever you may go/ I'll follow you way down to your deepest low/ I'll always be around wherever life takes you"

2. "Soap" by the Oh Hellos! I see this as *the* song for Ravonna and Miraak. The lyrics are absolutely perfect for them, and it encapsulates their relationship extremely well. I love the line: "I think that you're worth keeping around/ I think you're worth holding onto" -> this is very fitting especially from Ravvy's point of view! :D

3. "Can you feel the love tonight" by Elton John VERY SAPPY, I KNOW, but I can see it as a Miraak and Ravonna song! I thing she relates to the "And can you feel the love tonight?/ It is where we are/ It's enough for this wide-eyed wanderer/ That we got this far/ And can you feel the love tonight/ How it's laid to rest?/ It's enough to make kings and vagabonds/ Believe the very best" because at first she definitely considers herself to be the vagabond, a wanderer who doesn't have a place to call home while Miraak is, or better, was the king, as the leader of the Dragon Cult. He also makes her feel like a good person. He's her chance to redeem herself and become better and let go of the vengeful person she once was AND FORGIVE, so really, he brings her hope, he makes her believe the very best ;) AT the same time, Miraak sees Ravonna not killing him as his second chance at life. He gets to live again because of her, and he is very grateful for that.

4. "Dance Macabre" by Ghost. I'm twisting the lyrics a bit on this one, or ignoring them a bit. But the song itself really encapsulates the "dancing our way through the apocalypse" vibe that Ravonna and her fellowship have, I can really see them all dancing and having fun to this song. They will take all the chances they can get to have as much fun as possible, because they don't know when it's going to be the last time they do.

5. And last but certainly not least, a song that I associate with my version of Miraak: "Iris" by The Goo Goo Dolls! It's so fitting that it actually hurts my heart! Just these lyrics are perfect. Purely him!

"And I don't want the world to see me/ 'Cause I don't think that they'd understand/ When everything's made to be broken/ I just want you to know who I am" BECAUSE HE DOES WANT HER TO KNOW WHO HE IS. SHE SAW MIRAAK BUT THAT WASN'T HIM. HE WANTS HER TO KNOW HIM FOR REAL, THE MAN BEFORE THE DRAGON CULT. FENRIK. BECAUSE MAYBE IF SHE DID, SHE'D LOVE HIM AND AAAAH I'M GOING TO STOP BECAUSE I'M ALREADY YELLING.

Honorable mentions, because fuck it:

"Drink" by Alestorm for the "we are here to drink your beer" lyric.

"Perfect Day" by Lou Reed for the "You made me forget myself/ I thought I was someone else/ Someone good" from Ravvy's pov is just *chef's kiss*

And "Fish in the sea" because no playlist of my fic would be complete without at least one sea shanty! And it's in my fic after something really important happens 👀 also, storm motifs, important stuff happens during a storm 👀 Ravonna is kind of associated and compared to a storm 👀

Tagging @kiir-do-faal-rahhe @thelavenderelf @sheirukitriesfandom only if you want to, of course.

[lindsaywesker]

Good morning! I hope you slept well and feel rested? Currently sitting at my desk, in my study, attired only in my blue towelling robe, enjoying my first cuppa of the day.

Welcome to Too Much Information Tuesday.

Venustraphobia: the fear of beautiful women.

Drinking alcohol doesn't actually kill brain cells.

One-third of people over 70 are still sexually active.

The Victorians made tiepins out of badgers’ penis bones.

Having large breasts can take five years off a woman's lifespan.

The word pencil comes from a Latin word meaning ‘small penis’.

That friend that always gives relationship advice … yet is still single!

No response is a response. And it's a powerful one. Remember that.

In Australia, there are spiders that are so big, they can even eat snakes.

Cocks don’t have cocks. In 97% of bird species, the males don’t have penises.

Climacophilia: where someone is sexually aroused by falling down the stairs.

Meupareunia is sexual activity enjoyed by only one of the participants.

If you can’t send an Excel file because it’s too big, save it as .xlsb. This will shrink the size.

A report by the World Health Organisation says that alcohol kills one person every ten seconds.

80% of the time, it's not that a person changed, you just never knew who they actually were.

In Sweden, it is legal to be a prostitute, but it is illegal to be a customer of a prostitute.

‘Synesthesia’ is a neurological condition that can cause a person to see, smell and taste music.

It takes longer to say "www" than it does to say "world wide web" because of all the syllables.

Beer and marijuana are cousins, beer's hops are in the same family of flowering plants as marijuana.

A person that truly loves you will never let you go or give up on you, no matter how hard the situation is.

95% of women say they would opt for true love over great sex. Though most have to settle for neither.

A lot of problems in the world would disappear if we talked to each other instead of talking about each other.

Due to the new discovery of many brain parasites, scientists say that a zombie apocalypse is actually possible.

Due to the release of endorphins, shopping can help relieve pain, reduce stress and boost your self-esteem.

Go where you are appreciated, not where you are tolerated. Your confidence, health, and life will be much better.

Sometimes you can't explain what you see in a person. It's just the way they take you to a place where no one else can.

You should delete your browser cookies before buying airline tickets. Ticket fares go up when you’ve visited a site multiple times.

Marrying your best friend eliminates the risk of divorce by over 70%. These marriages are more likely to last a lifetime.

When you remember a past event, you are actually remembering the last time you remembered it, not the event itself.

80% of people keep their feelings to themselves because they believe it's hard for others to understand their pain.

Ironically, the human mind tends to forget the things it should remember and remember the things it should forget.

Twerking is actually good exercise. It works the deep muscles of the hips, as well as the core muscles of the lower back and abs.

Americans are less likely to wear nightclothes than people in Japan and Germany, while British people sleep naked the most often.

Psychology says staying quiet doesn’t mean you've got nothing to say. It means you don’t think they're ready to hear your thoughts.

A chemist who tested drugs for police departments in thousands of court cases was high almost every day she went to work for eight years.

When Ashton Kutcher was 13 he almost committed suicide by jumping off a hospital balcony so he could donate his heart to his dying brother.

There are roughly seven people in the world that look exactly like you and there is a nine percent chance you will run into one of them in your lifetime.

In 1992, six visitors to the Memphis Zoo demanded a refund after discovering that the ‘Dinosaurs Live!’ exhibit did not contain any living dinosaurs.

In 2008, a microbiologist compared samples from 33 computer keyboards with those taken from a public toilet seat and toilet door handle. One keyboard had to be removed from the premises as it was five times dirtier than the toilet seat and had 150 times the acceptable limit of bacteria.

Okay, that’s enough information for one day. Have a tremendous and tumultuous Tuesday! I love you all.

[fragmcntedsouls]

“Believe it or not most of them were gifts” Asher murmured nonchalantly, still on the topic of his expansive arsenal. “Who knows, maybe other seven year old would have been made up with a renetti pistol for their birthday, but that year - I asked for a bike.” Humor had been intended in his words, but that intention didn’t quite meet his eyes. Simple tell tales of his unhappiness that seemed to be coming worse in Briggs’ company.

Now taking a swig from his beer, Asher caught the momentary glimpse of genuity on the hybrids features, but chose not to comment. No matter how desperate he was to .“Underage drinking isn’t a joke” he taunted with laughter of his own, before throwing a dish towel at Briggs as the hybrid flipped him off. “Oh right, how could I forget that you were a silver spoon Mikaelson kid. What’s that like by the way? What’re they like?” For once, Asher was asking out of general curiosity, not for an intention to expose weakness. He only hoped that Briggs could now see that he was genuine and not prying for answers. 

Nodding as Briggs spoke more of his birth family, Asher felt a heaviness return to his chest. Presumably the emotion settling heavily against his heart. “I’m sorry.” He only hoped that her cause of death hadn’t been the OEA. He had been the cause of plenty of orphans over the course of his ‘career’ and the idea made him sick to his stomach. To offset the unpleasant sensation that threatened him, he took another swig of his beer. 

“I almost did kill you” he found himself quick to correct, albeit against his better judgment. He didn’t want Briggs to be making excuses for him, he wasn’t deserving of that yet. “The OEA are good at convincing broken birds that they’re responsible for mending their wings” the hunter released a shaky breath, “they take the weak and make them feel strong. Doesn’t matter who’s back’s they have to step on to get there. I’ve been one of those spreading that very same message, i’m not deserving of the good parts yet.”

The tension residing in his frame had since began to settle once again, his acquired techniques calming him when necessary, but their effectiveness was becoming less with each day. Giving his weary hands something to do, he held his bottle with one and picked off its label with the other and returned his focus towards his idea. 

“You might not say that when you hear it” he breathed, preparing to share his idea. “There’s a new boss in the city. Nobody really knows much about him which is kind of suspicious in itself. I’m thinking, he’s our fall guy. Well, my fall guy. After today, you’re not getting involved with any of this, understand? Once they find the hunters, it doesn’t matter what the truth is, they’re gonna be blaming the supernatural. I just need to find a way to cast some doubt. Plant some ideas before they’re found and I know just the person who can help me."

Plenty would need to fall into place for Asher to execute his plan and execute it well, but he was confident that he could manage. "Her name's Delainey. She's kind of terrifying, but she keeps her tabs on me because she's in with my sister.” Hesitation rose once again, clearing his throat as he proceeded to spill his guts some more. "Not Jordyn, my uh other sister. Speaking of, she's out of town, but if she does come back - don't go there. We don't exactly share the same ideas." Asher was weak, Aliyah was not. "Anyway, if I get Laine onside that's half of the battle won. I just need to talk to her before they're found. Make a connection somehow, but i'll figure that part out."

"Did you?" Not that he blamed him for old habits, it was unusual ground for both. It would have made way more sense to already be dead, not be chilling in a private, sanctuary-like space.

"Probably. Just thought it might be rude to be like 'holy arsenal, Batman!'" Briggs retorted, a light grin tugging on his lips as he gave a nod in approval for the choice. He didn't like drinking alone anyway, always better with a--whatever this was. "Yeah, you did," he disagreed. He didn't know Asher well, not really, but it just tracked somehow. "No shame, darling, we all love Buffy."

Lifting his shoulders, he almost seemed to acknowledge the thoughts. He couldn't read minds, that was another's skillset, but he got Asher. Weirdly enough. "Mhm. Well, you know me, I'm full of concern." The act wavered only a little as a genuine smile peeked ever so slightly through, maybe he did give a shit.

"How old do you think I am?" He replied with a laugh that was louder than the others before, flipping him off as an answer. "I'm used to higher quality alcohol, and that's the thanks I get for keeping my comments to a minimum." He'd rather laugh, keep above the heaviness, and as soon as he'd said anything, he was already wanting to take it back. The faces Asher kept making made all the more sense now. This was too open between them, they had to quit that.

"It's what happens sometimes," he said, as if disagreeing that it was heavy. "I don't really remember my mother--my biological one--she died, so he was just it, ya know. He was the parent, and it was what it was. I got out, live like a prince now basically, so worked out." He did not want to dwell there, liking it much better when they were diving into Asher's stuff. Yet, here he was, still sharing. It was gross. Then the hunter's question broke through the silence, and he didn't hesitate in response, "it's not." He let that sit for a beat before adding, "your brainwash programming told you to kill me today. You didn't. That makes you A. stronger than you think and B. a person deserving of a home where you actually belong."

His eyes drifted to the fists, recognizing a calming attempt when he saw one, and his gaze then returned to the hunter's face. He at least understood that, emotion you desperately want to control. "A man with a plan! I like it," he replied, bringing the beer up to his lips, "hit me."

[lokis-army-77]

Safe With Me Pt. 2

Eddie Munson x female reader

Word Count: 2340

This is a fix-it fic of season four of Stranger things. It follows the show, for the most part, I have just changed a few things so that I could add the character of the Reader.

The day after Eddie is found, he and the reader go into Rick's house.

Warning: Weed, that's it I think.

Main Masterlist (taglist linked here) Series Masterlist

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Early the next morning, I woke up to the peaceful sound of water sloshing about and the warm tug of a pair of arms around my waist. Yawning, I turned over to snuggle into the chest of the person holding me. 

“Good morning Sweetheart.” Came his gruff morning voice. 

I smiled. “Morning Eds.” I could feel his breath tickling my hair as he kissed the top of my head. 

“How’d ya sleep?” He asked, rubbing his hands along my side.

“As good as a person can on a wooden floor. I think I might have a crick in my neck.” I laughed. 

He chuckled at my response, “Yeah, me too.”

I gripped onto him harder, having just woken up, my body went from being comfortable to freezing in the cool spring morning air. Eddie’s arms tugged me in closer to him. 

“You cold?” He asked. All he needed for an answer were my chattering teeth. 

Setting us up, he quickly tugged off his vest and leather jacket and laid them over my shoulders. The warmth of him permeated from the jacket through me, calming my shakes and shivers. 

“I should have brought a sweater yesterday.” I chastised myself.

“It’s okay, I’ll keep you warm, baby.” Eddie smiled and pulled me sideways into his lap. I leaned my head on his shoulder as I looked down at my hands on my lap. 

“When do you think the others will be here?” I asked.

“No clue, but it better be soon, I’m fucking starving. I haven’t eaten since I ran out of those snack bars at lunch yesterday.”

“Yeah, I don’t even think I ate yesterday come to think of it. Dustin and Max woke me up at half past twelve looking for you and then it was just hectic after that.” To further prove my point of having not eaten, my stomach growled. 

Eddie’s laugh jostled me in his lap. “Yeah, I think your stomach is fixing to eat itself.”

It was then, that we heard the sound of a vehicle. Not knowing if it was our friends or someone less friendly, Eddie and I jumped up in a panic. Eddie grabbed his weapon of choice, the broken beer bottle, and ran to look out the window.

“Do you see anyone?” I whispered.

“No, probably someone just driving by.” He visibly relaxed a bit as he turned away from the window to look back at me. 

Suddenly the doors to the boat house slammed open. In shock, I let out a scream, only to realize it was our friends with bags of groceries.

“Jesus Christ.” Eddie spat, holding his chest like he was having a heart attack. 

“Fuck you guys. You could have knocked or something. You know, make your presence known?” I said exasperated. 

“Sorry,” Dustin cringed. “But we brought sustenance.” He and the others held up a plethora of bagged food and drinks.

“Oh thank god.” Eddie cried out as he went straight for the bag that had a cereal box in it. Tearing it open, he stalked over to the boat to take a seat inside. The others followed and sat on various things surrounding the boat. 

I took my time finding digging through the bag of food before settling on two Rice Krispie Treats and two Yoohoos for me and Eddie to drink.

“Did you guys only buy junk food?” I asked as I stepped over into the boat, handing Eddie his drink as I sat beside him.

“Uh, yeah?” Robin replied, sounding like she was questioning herself. 

I just shook my head before tearing into the Rice Krispies.

“Okay well,” Distin clapped his hands together. “We have some good news and some bad news. Which would you like first?”

“Bad news fists, always.” Eddie stated in an almost ‘duh’ tone.

“Bad news it is. So we tapped into the Hawkins PD dispatch with our Cerebro and they are definitely looking for you. They are also pretty convinced you killed Crissy.” Dustin broke the news.

“Like one hundred percent convinced.” Added Max.

Eddie's face slackened, the Honey Comb cereal he had shoved into his mouth, falling out. 

“So what’s the good news? I asked after taking a swig of my drink.

“Good news is that Eddie’s name hasn't gone public, but if we found out,” Robin raised her hand in a gesture to the group, “it's only a matter of time before others figure it out. And when it gets out, everyone in this town will be gunning for you”

“Shit.” I groaned under my breath.

“Ha, Hunt the freak, right?” Eddie scoffed. 

“Before that happens,” Dusting interjected with his plan. “All we need to find Vecna, kill him, and prove your innocence.”

“That's all Dustin. That's all?” Eddie asked sarcastically.

“That’s easier said than done there kid. We don’t have El, we don’t have Hop, and we are missing half the group.” I pointed out. “Like I know we have fought monsters before but we had help. We had real help.” 

“Uh, it’s more like a uh-” Robin started.

“A brainstorming phase.” Max finished and everyone agreed with her. 

Eddie sat beside me looking concerned and completely lost. 

“Look, Eddie, there is nothing to worry about.” Dustin smiled and Steve struggled to keep a laugh in. 

Eddie and I just looked at them like they were crazy. Eddie groaned and leaned his head on my shoulder, but I moved him off of me instantly when the sound of sirens blared down the road. 

“Get down.” I panicked, pushing Eddie down into the hull of the boat before jumping out. “Grab the tarp.” Eddie did as I said and the rest of us went to the windows to watch what was happening. 

What seemed like the whole of the police department along with the fire department and an ambulance came racing past Reefer Rick’s and on down the road. 

“What do you think happened?” I asked.

“Don’t know, but I think we should go check it out,” Steve muttered. 

“Come on, we can come back by later.” Dustin grabbed my hand but I tore it away. 

“No, like I said last night, I’m not leaving Eddie by himself. You guys go, leave a walkie here with us.” I moved back over to the boat to pull the tarp off of Eddie. 

“Okay, but be careful. Radio if anything happens.” Dustin dug around in his backpack before handing me his walkie. 

“You guys stay safe too.” I waived after them as they walked out the door. 

Huffing, I sat down. “So? Now what?” 

“Um, well, I think Rick has some cards in the house. We could break in and play, TV has been broken since before he was arrested so we are SOL on that.” Eddie pointed out.

“Wait, hold on, you’re telling me we could have slept inside the house this whole time and not in a fucking boat house?”

“Yep.” He said, popping the p.

“Eddie,” I whined. 

“Don’t Eddie me, we can go up there now. We just have to make sure no one is on the lake.” He jumped out of the boat and took hold of the bags Dustin and the others had brought. 

I left the building first, watching the area to make sure the coast was clear before waiving Eddie on. I followed him to the back porch where he kicked open the screen door and went directly to a rusty-looking grill that obviously hadn’t been used in ages. Taking the lid off, Eddie dug through the ashes and picked out a key. 

“Ah-ha!” He exclaimed, holding up the key like it was a precious treasure.

“Who keeps their spare key in a barbeque grill? That's nasty.” 

“Well, you obviously wouldn’t have looked there,” he said as he unlocked the back door, pushing it open and gesturing for me to go in. “M’lady,” He grinned. 

The place was stuffy and definitely what you would think it would look like on the inside. Dirty and dingy. 

“I see why you never brought me along to buy your supply.” I ran my fingers along the kitchen counter, making a face of disgust when they came away covered in dust. “How long did you say he’s been in jail?” 

“Uh, like four months, but before that, he had only been three weeks from being in jail for almost six months,” Eddie answered as he placed the grocery bags on the table beside me. 

“Wow, okay then.” I thought for a second. “Wait, if he’s always in jail then how does he sell you all the weed?”

“Well,” Eddie started to unpack all the food from the bags. “I usually just buy the whole lot off of him, which lasts for a while, I’ve never run out before he’s gotten out of jail so,” he just shrugged. "Plus, I have other people I buy from."

“Huh, I guess that makes sense.” I moved on from the kitchen, and walked through the house, being nosey. The place looked awful, and I could feel my nose starting to tingle with an oncoming fit of sneezes because of how dirty it was. Going around the house, I tested the lights, and they worked but I immediately turned them off, not wanting anyone to see that they were on.

“What are you doing?” 

I jumped at the sudden sound of Eddie’s voice behind me. Although, I couldn’t jump far since his arms had wrapped around my waist. 

“You scared me.” I laughed, throwing my head back onto his shoulder. 

“I don’t you why, I’m the one who should be jumpy.” He teased. “But really, what are you doing?”

“Nothing,” I brought my hands to rub at his which were clasped together at my front. “Just thought I would look around. Maybe find some contraband and those cards you spoke of.” I giggled as he leaned into my neck, his hair tickling my skin.

“Ah, I see. Well, you won’t find any drugs in the guest bedroom.” He kissed my neck before pulling away, keeping a pair of our hands clasped together. He pulled me along the hallway to a dark room which, from the sliver of light coming in through the window, I figured must have been Rick’s bedroom. “Wait there.” Eddie left me by the bedroom door so he could go digging around in the closet. A moment later he came back to me with a little baggie of weed and rolling papers. 

“Now what about those cards?” I asked, taking the baggie from him. 

“Those would be in the living room.” He smiled before tugging me along once again. 

The rest of the day went by slowly, the weed and the excess boredom of not being able to go anywhere contributed greatly to the almost nonexistent passage of time. There were only so many times we could play Go-Fish or Old Maid since having smoked, that we couldn’t figure out the rules for anything more complicated than those two games. 

“I am so fucking bored. What time is it?” I asked, laying back on the floor, using Eddie’s discarded jacket and best as a pillow. We had both been seated criss-cross on opposite sides of the living room coffee table. 

“It’s a quarter past three.” Eddie sighed.

“Ugh. I’m dying of boredom.”

“Come here, baby.” Eddie made grabby hands at me for the other side of the table. I smiled and crawled my way to him on my hands and knees. “Let’s finish this blunt and then we can just take a nap. How's that sound? Hum?” 

I nodded into his shoulder before taking the blunt from his fingers and taking a few long drags. 

It wasn’t long before we had finished smoking and Eddie was sluggishly leading me to the guest bedroom and tucking us both under the dusty covers. 

“Hey, Eddie?” I asked as I curled up into his chest. 

“Yeah, baby?” 

“Are you scared?” I clung to him, my mind fuzzy from smoking.

“More than I care to fuckin’ admit.” His arms held me tightly and even though we were warm under the covers, I felt Eddie shiver.  “Never thought I’d be the one to run when things got tough, but here I am, a coward.” He sighed into my hair.

I looked up and him, bringing my hand to caress up his neck and cradle his cheek. “You aren’t a coward Eds, you’re human.” He stared at me with his big chocolate brown eyes, they looked even bigger as his pupils dilated in the low light. “I would have run too if I didn’t know what was going on.” 

He gave me a lopsided smile. “Thanks, sweetheart, you always know how to make me feel better.” I smiled as he leaned his head down and pressed his chapped lips on my forehead in a tender kiss. “I just,” He choked out, “I just feel awful for leaving her there you y’know? Like I didn’t try hard enough to save her.”

I pushed myself up in Eddie’s hold so his head was not westing against my chest and I was holding onto him protectively. “There was nothing you could have done, nothing anyone could have done Eddie. We know nothing about how Vecna operates or what he wants, there was nothing that could have saved her.” 

Eddie sniffled, burying his head into my chest. “I just keep thinking, what if it had been you? What if it was you dangling from the ceiling with me standing there helpless.” He started to weep, tears dampening my t-shirt. 

I just held onto him, not knowing what else I could do or say. My hands rubbed circles into his back and across his bare arms. “Shhh, it’s okay,” I whispered, trying to soothe him.

He cried into my chest for a while before his breaths evened out, becoming more relaxed as he fell asleep in my arms. The grip he had on my waist was tight, but I didn’t mind, it let me know he was going nowhere. 

So, I pulled the covers up around us and drifted off to sleep with him.

Eddie Taglist: @loveofmylife12@ellabellabus07@wickedwitchofwest@siriusstwelveyears@ameliakf13 @milly-louise @darkscrossfire @harrypotter-posts @dedeinspire @ccosmic-illusion @eddiesbirdie @castiels-gracex @luvwanda

[classic80sand90smovieloves2]

Meeting and Dating J.D.

(Not my gif)(Requested by anonymous and @poruchik-logy​)

(Sorry about the inactivity lately. With the holidays coming up, I’ve been a bit busy. Plus, I’ve written a post or two on my other blogs which means no post on this one. Anyways, hope you enjoy!)

- You meet J.D. when he transfers to your school. You’re in study hall when you just so happen to look up and make eye contact with the boy while glancing around the room. 

- For the rest of the period, you feel like someone's watching you, and lo and behold, every time you sneak a glance his way, his eyes are on you. He doesn’t even try to hide the fact that he was looking, he just raises an eyebrow at you when you turn and meet his gaze. 

- You spot him in the lunchroom later that day and ask your friends about him though they don’t have much information besides his name and where he moved from which they got from one of their teachers forcing him to introduce himself to the class. He was a mystery …and boy were you intrigued. 

- You have your first conversation at the local Snappy Snack Shack. You’d just popped in to grab a little junk food, only to find him stalking through the store in his black trench coat. You figured you’d dance around each other until one of you left but before you knew it, he’d sauntered up to you and interjected that you looked familiar. 

- Before you knew it, the two of you had introduced yourselves and began a sort of flirtatious conversation. He bought you a slushy and offered you a ride home on his bike which you coyly accepted after a moment of nervous hesitation. 

- It was that same night that he returned to your house, rapping at your window and damn near giving you a heart attack. Even though it was terrifying at first, it was also sort of endearing and you soon found yourself joining him outside.

- Now, It’s your choice whether or not you sleep together that night. If you do then consider yourself kissed and claimed from then on. If you don’t, he’ll continue to show up at your house or hang around you at school until he gets what he wants. You. 

- You suppose that your first date happened at the Snack Shack so from then on, the two of you were sort of seeing each other. Well, one of his favorite things to do with you is not be at home so the two of you were hanging out in an empty lot.

- The sun went down and you were sitting in the dark, the glow of the moon being the only thing lighting up your date. You were sitting down and he was lingering on his feet somewhere behind him, sorta pacing from what you could hear. 

- He knelt down beside you and you turned your head to look at him, only to immediately get pulled into a kiss that all but had you melt into the floor. It was passionate and somewhat rough, exactly what you’d expect from him. And you wouldn’t have it any other way. 

- Well, he most certainly isn’t letting you go after that. I hope you like him babe because you’re not getting rid of him anytime soon. 

- This man is fully willing to makeout with you in public. So yeah, there’s a lot of Pda.

- His hands are pretty much on you at all times.

- Pecks on the lips. He loves when you just give him a kiss for no reason at all.

- Rough, passionate kisses. He asserts his dominance by hooking his arms around you and pulling you into a searing kiss until you can’t breathe.

- He definitely calls you “woman” and a ton of other pet names ranging from cute to just plain annoying. 

- He never would have imagined a girl like you would actually put up with him for so long …but boy is he thankful you have.

- He’s a little shit and that’s just something you’ll have to live with. He’s blunt, conniving and sarcastic, but he does care about you.

- He pretends like he doesn’t give a shit a lot of the time but he does, more than he cares to admit.

- Surprisingly enough, JD actually really likes cuddling. You’ll usually lay with your legs intertwined and your head resting against his chest while he wraps his arms tight around you. 

-  Jason's father sort of ignores him, they aren’t very close and certainly not close enough to be sharing affection besides; maybe, a pat on he back or something similar. So he craves attention and affection.

- He yearns for you to touch and love him but he doesn’t know how to tell you that he wants you to suffocate him with your own body. He’ll just try to repeat whatever it is he did to make you touch him or touch you until you do something to him.

- Hugs from behind.

- Husky whispers in your ear. He does it on purpose because he knows what it does to you.

- Motorcycle rides. 

- Trying to get him to quit smoking. It never actually works but he; somewhat, tries to cut down on it for your sake. He thinks the fact that you care is sorta amusing. 

- Cutting class together.

- Going shooting with him. The beer bottles and porcelain plates kind of shooting, not the Ram and Kurt kind of shooting. 

- Dark humor. Although, sometimes you genuinely don’t know if he’s joking or not. 

- He can always seem to make you laugh, even if it makes you feel guilty to laugh at some off the stuff he says.

-  Hearing an alarming amount of gun and bomb facts. 

- Going to Snappys Snack Shack with him.

- Junk food binges.

- He’s kind of a stalker if I’m being honest. He follows you around without you knowing, finds out everything he can about you, etc. You’re sort of like an obsession of his and that can be good or bad depending on the situation and to what extent you know about his feelings. 

- He knows practically everything about you, ranging from your birthday to where you are at pretty much any given time.

- He’s not too great at all that lovey dovey shit but he tries. It might take him a little while to get the hang of it but he eventually will. 

- Getting him to play the sax for you.

- Having his hand on your thigh whenever he’s driving. 

- Making out.

- Hickeys.

- He likes when you wear his clothes, it’s like marking his territory without getting in trouble for making your neck different colors.

- Listening to morbid music.

- Deep existential conversations. What else do you talk about with your girlfriend besides the meaning of life and why society will ultimately cave in and destroy itself in a violent revolt?

- Late night phone calls from him. Be prepared to rush to your landline at three a.m. so that you don’t wake up your parents. You can’t even really be mad at him because he’ll just immediately launch into either a spiel about how he missed you or ask what your opinion on Manchurian candidates are; successfully silencing you in bewilderment. 

- Getting random knocks at your window whenever he decides he just has to see you. 

- Your parents either love or hate him, there is no inbetween. He’s generally pretty good at playing the role of the upstanding young man who cares a lot about their daughter; that parts real of course, but occasionally a parent will just get a bad vibe from him and his charade; though convincing, just won’t work on them. 

- If that’s the case with your parents then you’ll sort of be forced to sneak out if you want to see him, which he’s particularly good at helping you do. 

- Getting kept away from his father. He tries to keep your interactions to a minimum, especially if you have a much different personality than to the man.

- Incredibly jealous though he’ll always try to hide just how upset whatever situation you’re in makes him. He makes jokes and “forgets about it” as soon as you join his side, convincingly acting like nothing happened or that he saw nothing wrong with it but staying up the rest of the night wondering what he can do about it. 

- Possessive. You’re each others, aren’t you? He’s yours and you’re his. Everybody belongs to someone and the two of you belong to one another. 

- Is he protective? What do you think? If you ever complain about a person bothering you, he’ll almost immediately ask if you want him to kill them. You think it’s a joke. It’s not. 

- Although it may seem like he does things just for his own benefit, he would genuinely do anything you ask of him. Sometimes he’ll surprise you with the lengths that he goes to make your life easier and happier. 

- He’s hot tempered and kind of an asshole so the two of you are; most likely, almost constantly fighting. You’ll usually be yelling at each other or arguing passionately which is a problem because he thinks you’re hot when you’re angry. He’ll usually wind up trying to kiss you which succeeds in making things worse and having you give him the silent treatment/break up. 

- He tries his best to give you your space but the instant you want him back, he’s all over you. He usually never actually apologizes but he doesn’t force you to when you’re in the wrong either so you suppose it’s fair. 

- I love you’s are few and far between. He doesn’t really want to make himself seem too vulnerable so you only get them on rare occasions. 

- The two of you tend to not talk about the future. He wants to be with you forever; which is obvious, and he wants you to be his; which is also obvious. But you don’t know if you’re entirely sure you can handle him. So, you try to just enjoy the time you’re spending together and not think about how things may end. 

- You’re either the Bonnie to his Clyde or his blissfully unaware darling. Pick your poison. 

[unwrittenlibrary]

Champagne Problems

Summary: a companion piece to What Kind of Man. Harry never meant for things to end up this way. 

Warnings: Cheating. Forgiveness after cheating. Don’t read if you don’t agree with that. 

Notes: some of the scenes from harry’s pov & some new scenes to dive deeper into harry. this is just march! so it’s a companion to the first piece only & is short!

-

Left you out there standing

Crestfallen on the landing 

Champagne Problems

-

March.

-

Harry wasn’t exactly sure when you and him had drifted apart. Logically he knew every relationship had points where things may feel repetitive or where both people struggle, but the two of you had never felt this cold. 

That doesn’t stop the guilt that sinks his stomach and causes his lungs to constrict when you hang the phone up. “Y/N?” He asks in response to the obvious dial tone. 

The guilt doesn’t stop him from staying at the pub. Niall had left hours ago with a hurried goodbye. Jennifer had declined going out at all, saying all she wanted was rest. All who was left was Mitch, Harry, Ally and their semester law intern, Hannah. 

“Everything okay at home?” Ally asks kindly as Harry slips into the booth. Mitch raises his eyebrows as Harry shrugs. “She sounds pissed, but no emergency.” 

“If she sounds pissed why are you still here?” Mitch laughs. It sounds uneasy to Harry as his friend looks him up and down confused. “I remember when you used to refuse going out with us because you didn’t want Y/N upset.” 

Harry takes a sip of his beer and looks away. The pub was mostly filled with other suits. More lawyers from the firm who worked in offices Harry never visited. Doctors from the hospital two blocks away.

He turns his head back to look at Mitch when he feels a hand graze his knee. “I think you deserve a break.” Hannah says quietly. Harry watches as Mitch shakes his head, but turns away before his friend can say anything else. 

(Because Mitch’s stare just forces the guilt up Harry’s throat and he’s afraid it’ll come out in vile. Things were never supposed to go this far with Hannah. It was supposed to be stupid flirting and compliments. Nothing that could break you. It was never supposed to break you.)

(Harry hadn’t done that good of a job.) 

- 

Harry wasn’t drunk. He hadn’t been drunk since law school. He was an adult. With a high paying position at a sought out law firm. He didn’t get drunk. 

You didn’t leave the porch light on though, so it’s a little hard for him to focus on getting the key in the door and also being quiet. But he’s not drunk, so he can do it. He does it. 

He pauses as he drops his keys onto the entry table. The entire first floor is dark. He slips his shoes off as well and leaves them by the door in order to avoid trying to find the correct cubby for them. 

You had left the hallway light on upstairs, so most of the staircase was illuminated enough for Harry to make it up them without missing a step. That didn’t stop him from stumbling up the last three though. 

He can see the bedroom light had been left on as well. He listens for the sound of you talking to Jack or even just the baby’s giggles, but when all he hears is silence, he assumes you had fallen asleep writing. He pushes the door open. 

You’re sitting on the edge of the bed and twisting your ring around your finger as you gnaw on your bottom lip. Your head shoots up when you hear the door open and Harry’s eyes widen. “Y/N?” He feels his eyes squint at the bright overhead light feeling much harsher with your glare. 

He ignores the pit in his stomach as he lifts his wrist the check the time, “Why are awake? It’s almost three in the morning. (He never meant for this happen. He was never supposed to be in this scene.) 

You shrug and let out a laugh that Harry could only describe as empty. The pit in his stomach grows as you whisper harsh words, “I’m well aware of how ridiculously late it is, Harry. I figure I should be awake though, it’s the only time I’ll see you.” 

Harry looks away as he pulls his jacket off and lays it on the bed beside where you were sitting. “What are you talking about?” In order to avoid your stare he focuses his attention to his white button up. He hands fumble and he notices you stand in his peripheral version. 

His hands pause for a moment, like he expects your hands to steady his shaking ones like they normally did. You almost do, he notices, but a look crosses your face and your arms cross over your chest defensively. 

“The kids missed you.” You say quietly. 

Harry knows what’s coming as his hands fall completely away from the shirt and he finally looks at you. He feels tears rush to his eyes as the guilt from earlier in the night returns tenfold. “I missed them too.” He says quietly. 

“Seph asked me if you were leaving us.” The words feel like a punch to the gut as you just watch him stand and process them. Seph asked that? Had he really been gone so often his first daughter, his best friend, was worried he wouldn’t come back one day? 

“She what?” Harry flinches when he hears his voice crack. “I would never leave you guys, I love you.” 

You look away. “Do you?” And if your words about Persephone had felt like a punch, these felt like a gunshot. Pain splintering from his chest throughout his entire body. 

“What?” He almost yells. But he knew the kids were asleep. He never wanted to wake his kids up to fighting. He feels like he’s sobering up fast and it’s making him nauseous. He takes a hesitant step towards you before placing his hand gently on your cheek. 

Or at least, attempting to. You flinch away and Harry’s hand falls to his side. “Y/N,” He starts quietly. “Don’t think-”

Your laughter cuts him off as your eyes flick angrily back to his. “if you wanted me to believe that, you wouldn’t come home smelling like another woman.” Harry’s heart freezes as his eyes widen. You pull his left hand up, “You wouldn’t leave your wedding ring out for me to see every time I was my hands.” 

Harry tries to pull his hand back, ashamed at the idea of his ring haunting you, but your grip only tightens. “You wouldn’t have a hickey. One I didn’t give you considering we haven’t had sex in months.” Your other hand is point hard into his chest to where a mark lays covered partially by his shirt. 

You let go of him as you fall onto the edge of the bed and look up at him with tears. He feels his chest constrict as he sits down next to you. He pulls both your hands into his, “Y/N...” He says quietly. “I am so sorry.” 

Tears threaten to spill from his eyes as you try to pull away from him. “Am I not good enough?” You ask quietly. He pulls you to him but you thrash in his arms. “Seventeen years of my life. Four kids. Everything. I gave you everything.” You’re crying but your voice is cold. 

You’re thrashing stops and it’s silent. Harry reluctantly lets go of you and you immediately stand up again. You look at him expectantly and Harry feels like he’s going to throw up as he looks down at his hands. 

“It didn’t mean anything.” he says quietly. Truthfully. “It never meant- I love you.” He stresses. He falls from the bed to his knees in front of you. “You’re the love of my life.” He thinks of college. His law school graduation. He thinks getting promoted and buying your home. 

He thinks of divorce papers as you look away from him. “How long?” You ask quietly. 

“Please.” Harry begs. Where would he go if you kicked him out? Mitch would tell him he was an idiot. He loved you. Would his mom take your side? She should, he thinks. Gemma would want to kill him. 

“How long?” You ask coldly. Your face has steeled itself. Harry can see the tension in your jaw and almost feels his dinner coming up. 

“A month.” He wraps his arms around you. He nuzzles his face into your stomach. He sees your hand twitch, almost like you want to run a hand through his hair. “It meant nothing. Y/N. I’ll end it right now.” 

Stupid. His head screams. Stupid. Stupid. Stupid. 

“Okay.” You unwrap yourself from his arms and step away. Harry watches you confused as you move towards your side of the bed. “I’m going to bed.” You rub a hand over your face before laying down. 

Harry stands awkwardly unsure of what to do with himself. He knew he couldn’t sleep in the bed. That something like that was probably the last thing you wanted to do. 

“Take a shower. Sleep in the guest room.” Your back is facing him and he sees your arms wrapped around yourself. This bed is too big for one person, he thinks. That’s selfish of you; His conscious tells him. 

He moves quickly to get pajamas from the closet. He debates showering in the ensuite, maybe he’d be able to see you again before sleeping, but he turned out of the room. 

He would shower in the kids bathroom. 

-

The guest room was cold. It was the only bedroom downstairs and that made it felt ten times lonelier to Harry. It was rarely used too. Gemma would stay in it when she visited L.A, but she had gotten her own apartment in the city and it was no longer used frequently. 

Your parents lived only an hour away and had no need to spend nights at your house and his mother was rarely able to make the flight over the ocean. It felt like something staged for the sale of a house. 

Harry sighs as he sits on the edge of the bed. With his head in his hands he thinks over where he went wrong. He had never meant for this to happen. For any of this. 

The distance had been a byproduct of the stress. He was worried about the kids. He had done the numbers and sure you two were well off, but four kids was expensive. You had stored any more you’d made from your book in savings. A rainy day fund didn’t calm Harry’s nerves.  

So he worked more. And he went out after work for a drink or two. And he talked. That’s what it had started out as. Just talking numbers over with Hannah, who helped him work them out. She wanted to be a divorce lawyer. Or maybe it was just broad family law. 

Harry thought that was ironic now that his marriage would probably be over. It was running through numbers. Maybe there was a hand on the knee or feet that were just too class together. Things he had brushed off as accidents and completely unintentional. Then it had been him walking her to her car. Then she had kissed him and well- Harry isn’t blameless. 

It would be ridiculous for him to say he was. 

He falls back onto the bed and lets out a shaky breath. How had he been so stupid? 

He sits back up immediately and pulls out his cellphone. He hadn’t even saved her number. They almost never texted and would usually just see each other at the bar. It had only been two weeks since they had kissed by her car. They had only-

He can’t believe he had let it get this far. He can’t believe he’s sitting here justifying himself with onlys. 

He’s unsure of what to say. Should he apologize? It wasn’t anymore her fault than it was his own. 

I have kids and a wife I love. This was wrong. I’m sorry. 

Harry flinches. He felt gross and guilty. The shower hadn’t done anything but sobered him up. He felt everything over and over. Nausea, a headache bound to come on, guilt and just pain. 

He pulls up Mitch’s message strain. Won’t be in tomorrow. Not feeling great. 

He responds within minutes. Hope she doesn’t leave your ass. I’d take her side. 

Harry lets out an empty laugh. Wouldn’t everyone? His mother loved you. She had since the two of you had met in college. When you had found out you were pregnant a semester before graduation his mother had been nothing but supportive; Especially when your parents had poorly hidden their own disappointment. 

Gemma thought of you as the sister she never had. Her and Harry were close, but over the last almost twenty years you and her had grown closer. 

His mind drifts to the kids. How could he do this to the kids? Force them go through what had been devastating to him. He may not practice family law, but he knew how it worked. You worked from home all the time and had been taking care of them their entire lives. 

They would ask the kids where they wanted to go, they would refuse to leave their mother. Harry would too, you were home to everyone in the family. Life without you sounded meaningless. 

Why did you do it then? He shakes his head. He doesn’t know. It wasn’t like you had stopped giving him attention, there was no time for sex and work got in the way of dates. It was his fault. 

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck. The word repeats itself over and over again in his head. . Even if he could find ways you had ignored him or cast him to the side it would be pointless. It would be placing blame on a blameless person. It was his fault. 

He crawls under the comforter. It’s nowhere near as soft as the one you had chosen for the bedroom. The sheets weren’t slept in so they didn’t feel as soft and worn. Harry thinks of having to find his own sheets and bed, his heart drops. 

He doesn’t sleep. Unable to stop the back and forth of how do I fix this and will she even let me try? 

-

Harry’s fingers tap incessantly on the drivers wheel as he makes his way home from Serena and Oliver’s school. Persephone had been pretty silent to entire drive to her high school, but Oliver had done more than covered for her with his stories. 

How had it gone from breakfast together at least once a week and and family game nights to Oliver wanting nothing more than to be in his mother’s car and Persephone sitting in pure silence. 

Harry’s mind trails back to you as he drives. You had barely spared him a second glance as you sat down to join them at the breakfast table. He had felt his hesitant smile drop when you looked away from him. And even though talking to the kids all morning had caused his happiness to jump, there was still pain steadily flowing as he thought of what your plan was. 

Would you kick him out? Selfishly, he thought that was his biggest fear. Not having you and the kids to come home to everyday and losing the comfort it had always brought him. he had taken advantage of it and now that it could slip through his fingers at any moment he felt disgusting. 

The drive allows him to wallow in his thoughts, but pulling into the driveway is a far worse feeling. Knowing that you were inside and could give him news that would kill him.

Was he allowed to feel that way? He asks himself. Like you leaving him would kill him, when it would be because of his own choices. He takes a deep breath and forces himself to straighten himself out as he steps out of the car and begins the walk towards the front door.

He mumbles apologies and empty words as he walks up. Unsure of what he could say to you to break the silence. When he opens the door, you’re sitting with Jack as he babbles and plays with his toys on the floor. 

“Forgot how much Olly could talk.” Harry settles on starting with. He lets out an awkward laugh as you stand and lift Jack up before placing him in the play pen. You lean down and tickle him gently. “Please don’t escape, little Houdini.” Once you let him go and step away the young boy crawls away with a giggle. 

You make your way towards the kitchen silently and Harry walks behind you with a nervous buzzing feeling in his chest.

You take a deep breath and Harry watches as you slide a piece of paper over the counter and towards. As his eyes scan down the list he feels a sliver of hope creep into his heart.

“What’s this?” He asks quietly. It’s names and phone numbers that have his heart beating a million miles per second.

“A list of marriage counselors.” His eyes follow your finger as you point towards each name and number. “For us to see once a week.”

The hope in him is growing by the second as words keep coming out of your mouth. “You’re not leaving me?” He blurts out in shock.

Your stance turns defensive and Harry takes a deep breath trying to calm himself. “No.” You answer quietly. “Not yet anyways.” Harry can’t help the furrow of his brow as the words hit him. It wasn’t definite and this was a test. You sigh which forced Harry to move his attention back to you. “We have four kids together. A life. And no matter how much you hurt me, I still love you.”

Harry bites back the smile threatening to cross his face. Because despite everything, you love him. You still did. You both glance at your ring finger when he notices you twisting the ring around it. “You’re the love of my life. I don’t want to throw that all away without trying first.”

Harry can’t stop the smile this time as happiness bursts inside him. “Y/N.” He says quietly.

He kind of zones out as he watches you go over what you want to do from here. Counseling and cutting hours back at the firm. Neither a punishment in Harry’s mind.

“I’m not sure if you like, ended it with her.” You start and he nods hastily. “I have. I did last night. I’ll never talk to her again.” He promises. He feels guilt again but part of is held back by the unadulterated hope he has now.

He debates taking the steps towards you before finally deciding it was necessary. When you don’t move away, he pulls you into a cautious hug, one that he’s shocked to feel returned.

“Thank you.” He whispers and you nod.

He would fix this. He swore it. This wasn’t a maybe in his head, it was necessary.

-

Your heart was glass I dropped it.

Champagne Problems.

-

Notes:

Just a small piece while you all wait for third main part to wkm! thank you for the endless patience. hope you all are safe & healthy.

[whumpzone]

Tomas and Rowe - Part 18

Masterpost

@sola-whumping @just-another-whumper @misspelledwitch @looptheloup @briars7 @black-polarf @zipadeedooda-drabbles @just-a-whumping-racoon-with-wifi @rosesareviolentlyread @thingsthatgo-whump-inthenight @jazz-0307 @kestrelsparverius @whumpsy-daisies @whumpersworld @memoriesneverforget @sky-or-something-idfk @cupcakes-and-pain @frankieswhump @ihaventwritteninsolong @mybrokenlittletoy @kiretto-laorentze @morelikepainsley @lavmars @tears-and-lilies @whump-me-all-night-long @newbornwhumperfly @itaina-anta @whump-it @haro-whumps @simplygrimly @alex-ember @rippedjeansandfadeddreams @mnmlover2002 @jordanstrophe @princessofonward @xmonster-under-the-bed @as-a-matter-of-whump @5boys1house @crystalrainwing @starnight-whump @chifechi @unicornscotty @penny-for-your-whump @getyourwhumphere @likeit-or-whumpit @jasm0307 @lightdrinker @hurting-fictional-people @captainseconds @glamrockgregory

CW: recovering pet whumpee, environmental whump, references to an amputated finger, paranoia/hallucinations

-

As he turned to lock the final door behind him, Rowe could see that he had been in a warehouse, evidently a rarely-used one. A single floodlight was on, illuminating nothing but a bare wall and the road leading up to it. Rowe had been correct- it was night. The open air was a thousand blessings as he breathed it in. His eyes felt clean, he could stand up properly, he wasn’t wearing that fucking collar anymore.

The happiness was short-lived, but he let himself have it. He was free. He just had to get home, now.

Rowe would have panicked, at that moment, but instead his heart toughened, because Kasia hadn’t been able to break him down. He was missing a finger, and the throbbing pain made sure he wouldn’t forget in a hurry, but he was still there, still himself. His nightmares would probably take a new form, and he wondered if he’d ever be able to sleep alone again, but he was fine. He was a Pet. He was a person. Surviving was a skill of his.

He rested a hand on the wall, making sure he was hidden in shadow, and let himself take some of the weight off his scarred leg. Burnt, smashed, sewn up and burnt again. He would be limping, by the time he got home. But get home he would, and in some way, it was thanks to his leg. He had been sat on his bed, back when he couldn’t walk, looking for something to distract him from the feelings of anger and uselessness and what if he throws me out?

So he’d looked down and practised his reading. He remembered it perfectly. Tomas G…Grz…. something… 12 h-a-r-t… Hartland Road… your Pet… s-p-l-i-n-t…. bed rest for up to one week…

Rowe had read the address, and perhaps even then he’d known he might one day need it. It didn’t solve the problem of knowing whereHartland Road was, or whether he’d make it there without being stolen or beaten up or killed, but he had to try.

Kidnapped, he thought. You’d only say stolen for a piece of property.

The warehouse was evidently on the outskirts of town. Was it the right town? Rowe thought so, as he studied the lights shining down the road. Several of the shapes were familiar to him. The colourful string bulbs that were hung up along the shopping streets, the glow from the theatre on the hill, the dark spot where the graveyard sat. From his bedroom window he had to crane to get a good look, but he could see it well from the office. He ached to be back there. In the warmth and familiarity of it. Back with- Master? The word sounded strange now. Especially since- since Rowe felt like he understood him now. Understood his intentions.

He started to walk. Kasia’s jacket rested on his shoulders, and he couldn’t bear to put his arms in. The idea alone made him feel trapped. The thing smelt distinctly of the bastard, but Rowe knew it was preferable to the cold of a dead night. He found a main road soon enough, built up above the rest of the grassy flatland, so he gingerly climbed down the hill and walked alongside. He would be hidden from passing cars well enough, but his bare feet soon began to take the brunt of the choice of rough land over tarmac. Stones, sticks, was that roadkill, oh, god, all were littered through his journey which was only sparsely lit by the occasional road light. After a particularly sharp stone, or possibly even a discarded glass bottle, Rowe knew his foot was bleeding. He ground his teeth together. It wasn’t real if he couldn’t see it. And right now, he couldn’t see his own hand in front of him.

He kept his eyes on the lights from the town before him, slowly drawing closer.

He thought he heard footsteps behind him, running closer with horrifying speed. As they drew near he could hear Kasia screaming at him.

You think you can fucking get away from me? You think you locked that collar? You really think I won’t come back?

He kept his eyes fixed on the town. “It-it-it’s n-not real,” he whispered past the lump in his throat. He was trembling with fear. “It’s not real, I locked him up, I st-stopped him, it’s not real, it’s not.”

The paranoia wouldn’t leave him, though. Every passing car, though they were few and far between, made him jump and crouch down, hands clamped over his mouth. He couldn’t shake the fear that it was Kasia after him, out searching for the rotten escaped Pet. His leg burst with pain every time, making him whimper and cry when he tried to stand back up.

The sounds of footsteps gradually stopped, and Kasia’s voice faded, but Rowe could still feel his hands clawing at him. His back tingled with the overwhelming sensation that someone was behind him, creeping up and reaching out to grab-

Against his better judgement, he turned back. Darkness there, and nothing more. “Fuck, f-fuck, keep it together,” he muttered.

Just up ahead, he could see streetlamps. Proper ones, glowing a gentle orange. He went as far as he could along the grass, then climbed up, wetting his hands in the dew. He checked for cars, and seeing none, scrambled fully onto the road.

He realised he couldn’t run anymore- his leg would give out, or he wouldn’t be able to contain a howl of pain- so he limped as quickly as he could towards the next patch of shadow, over and over.

Eventually he came upon a sign: Welcome to….

It was half shadowed, but it was a map. He pushed himself up on his tip-toes, eyes scanning the jumble of letters and lines and symbols. Eventually he spotted it. Hartland Road. He traced the direction in his head, making sure it was committed to memory, although he knew he wouldn’t forget it even if someone tried to beat it out of him. And then, he started walking.

He couldn’t tell exactly what time it was, but he would have guessed around three or four in the morning. The pub, as he passed it, was quiet, although he still kept his distance, hugging the shadows.

He soon reached the base of the hill he knew he’d have to climb. As he started to ascend, he saw the Pet hospital in the distance. Oh god, would he have to go back there to get his finger treated? He pushed the question to the back of his mind. If he did, there wasn’t anything he could do.

A few cars drove by, as he walked. He wanted to duck into one of the smaller streets that branched off, but he had only memorised one route home, and he didn’t trust himself to improvise in the dark. So instead he squared his shoulders, stopped hunching, tried his best to look like a person walking home in his heavy jacket, not afraid, not prey. It didn’t feel quite right, but it was easier than he’d expected. And it worked- no cars stopped, no one seemed to give him a second glance.

He finally reached the street, the name lit up. Hartland Road. The sign was scuffed, like kids had popped the cap off their beers along its edge. It was fixed to the wall of a garden, weeds poking out through the bricks, a flyer from the council tied at eye-level to the neck of the streetlamp. Rowe took everything in as he walked. The bicycle clipped to a fence, the parked cars, the black bins left out for collection. Before, he never would have taken notice. None of it had mattered. But now, Rowe felt as if he had a new connection to the world around him. He could interact with it. He wasn’t leashed or under the watchful eye of an owner, he wasn’t crawling or blindfolded in the boot of a car. He was in pain, yes, but he was always in pain, so constantly that it hardly registered anymore. He was free.

Rowe didn’t recognise the house itself. The only times he’d ever left it, he’d been unconscious, or practically so.

But when he turned around, he saw the same view he’d had from his bedroom window every morning and night. He was home.

He remembered Kasia’s key, but it no longer fit into the front door. The lock must have been changed. Rowe hated that the alternative was to make a loud noise, at this hour, but perhaps that was the smarter way than simply slipping inside like- like Kasia. So he hesitantly pressed down on the doorbell, hitting his fist against the wood as well. He waited. He thought about how he’d never rung a doorbell before in his life.

Silence. Rowe wasn’t exactly surprised, but his heart still tightened. Suddenly the fresh air didn’t feel freeing, it felt exposed. He rang again, knocking harder, not giving up. Surely he would know it was urgent? Surely he would come down, and Rowe would get to see his face again?

Faintly, he heard the creaking of the stairs. “I-I-It’s me!” he said, hushed. “It’s me, I…”

His words died as the door slowly opened. Half a face, an eye framed by blond curls peered out, full of apprehension. In a heartbeat it landed on Rowe and widened, and the door flew open.

“Tomas,” Rowe said, loving how it felt to say his name, loving him, loving everything. “I’m back, I, I’m back, I’m back.”

Tomas raised a hand over his mouth, and for once he was the one shaking. “Oh my god… oh my god.”

And then he was reaching both arms out for Rowe with a sob. Rowe threw the horrible jacket to the ground and fell into him, wrapping his arms around his waist and holding on tight. He couldn’t have known whose knees failed first, but suddenly they had collapsed on the floor, clinging onto each other, not leaving a shred of space between as they both cried. Soaked in the orange light that pooled through the still-open front door.

[storiesbymads]

GIVE IT UP ( tyson jost . )

You find yourself at your ex’s house party despite the fact that you’ve pretty much convinced him and yourself that you hate him. Apparently, he’s not that fond of you either. At least, that’s what he wants you to think.

warnings: smut, hate sex, unprotected sex

wc: 2.6k

add yourself to my taglist + masterlist

It was shocking of how quickly the sweet boy who once would’ve done anything to see you smile turned into the man before you that managed to get a rise out of you without even directly speaking to you.

Granted, most of that was your fault. All he’d wanted was a break, a few weeks, maybe a month apart to think things over. You’d been the one to suggest a full breakup.

“Tys-“ you stopped yourself. “Tyson.”

His pacing stalled, the hand that had been furiously running through his curls fell to rest on his hip as he turned to face where you were sitting on the couch. The couch you’d helped him pick out when he’d first moved into this apartment. The one he’d first kissed you on three years ago, though it was a bit more beat up now than it had been then. It was a faded blue in color now.

“What,” he halfway snapped. The tone of his voice caused you to flinch at his words, which almost sent Tyson into a deeper downward spiral had he not been so desperate to get through this evening without you killing each other.

“You know this isn’t working,” you said. “Not like it used to.”

“Then why are you fighting with me about taking a few weeks to figure things out,” he sighed before moving to sit on the matching ottoman in front of you.

“Please don’t make me say it out loud,” you said. Your jaw was trembling as you didn’t know how much longer you could keep looking him in the eye without breaking down.

Tyson’s hands were quick to start rubbing his eyes, almost painfully so as the heels of them dug in.

“You don’t mean it,” he whispered.

“Tyson.”

“I still love you,” he sighed.

“We had a great run, yeah?” you smiled sadly at him as you picked yourself up off the couch. “I’ll be back to get my things in the next week or so.”

And that probably would’ve been the end of it had Andre not been your best friend. He was, and he claimed, the best guy in your life before Tyson and he was going to stay that way after Tyson.

Sure, parties were awkward but it was nothing you couldn’t get through without a couple girl friends and some distance. And a handle of pink whitney.

“You’re kidding!” you gasped as your old college roommate gushed about her new boyfriend and their bedroom antics. “There’s no way you let him do that!”

“Long time no see, sunshine,” a familiar brown haired swede said as he pulled you into his side by the hip. You could tell the drink in his hand was far from his first based on the slur of his words and the way the snapback was situated sideways on his head.

“Hey, Dre,” you said before pecking his cheek quickly and sipping on the drink in your own hand. Contrary to your usual party behavior, you were only about half of the way through your first.

“Yeah, sunshine,” you heard Tyson say from behind you. The smile on your face wiped away into a scowl within seconds. “Long time no see.”

You opted to ignore him, continuing your conversation with your roommate, Savannah, as Andre left your side to join the beer pong game in the corner.

“Aw, c’mon. It’s not my fault you’re desperate enough to come to your ex’s house party,” he mocked as he shuffled his way closer to you.

“Aw, it’s not my fault your other eye’s just begging for a matching shiner,” you cooed. You could feel his breath against your pulse point as he leaned in closer.

“Think you have it in you?” he asked, voice grovely as it dropped an octave. Scoffing, you pushed away from him in search of anyone else to talk to. You couldn’t stand the fact that he was still able to jump start your heart rate after all these years, especially after all the things he’s said to you after you’d broken up.

You shouldn’t even be going to this part. You wouldn’t be had Andre not literally dragged you into his car with a promise that you wouldn’t even see Tyson, let alone have to speak to him.

“You haven’t been out in months, sunshine,” he said as he pulled out of your apartment complex. “We miss you.”

“You missed me,” you sighed, pulling your head up from where it was resting against the cool glass of the window.

“The team misses you,” he said, temporarily taking his hand off the wheel to pinch your hip. The team minus Tyson, you thought.

The party itself was fine for a while. You’d practically attached yourself to Andre’s side, not that he was complaining. He was just glad to have you in a social situation again. You were actually having fun for the first time in a while playing flip cup with some of the guys. Tyson had practically slipped your mind, another first.

Until he decided to, rather harshly, drag you away from the table.

“What are you doing here?” he rushed out as he clicked the lock on the bathroom door.

“Dre- Andre invited me,” you stuttered. The party was still going strong outside the room and you could feel the bass through the floor.

“God, I haven’t seen you in months and you’re here because my teammate invited you?” he scoffed. The shock in his eyes had since shifted to something more of disgust.

“We broke up, Tyson,” you said.

“Exactly! We broke up!” he said, throwing his hand up in the air. Your eyes stayed glued to the lock behind him.

“I didn’t come here to see you,” you said, though it came out more like a whimper. You swore you saw something crack in Tyson’s eyes before his resolve went back up.

“That’s rich, even coming from you.”

“God, you’re such a dick, Jost,” you pushed past him, wiping a tear away before it had the chance to fall as you unlocked the bathroom door.

You hated him. You hated him.

Thankfully the kitchen was empty when you found yourself there. You weren’t looking for anything, your cup was still mostly full.

How was Tyson always able to find you in a crowd? Even when you were actively avoiding him like the plague, he somehow managed to sneak up behind you and send your head into a downward spiral.

“What’s a pretty girl like you doing thinking so much at a party,” an unfamiliar voice said from beside you, pulling you from your daze.

“I’m not-“ you cut yourself off. “It’s just…”

“Whoa, don’t burst a blood vessel,” he smiled at you. His comment was awkward at best, but the soft look in his eyes made up for it. He was cute.

“Sorry,” you chuckled. “I’m Y/N.”

“Jason,” he responded, clinking your red cups together in a fake toast.

Jason, you learned, was a bartender at the Star Bar in downtown Denver. Though, that was a temporary job as he worked on his masters in biochemistry. You ended up telling him a story about the time you found yourself being escorted out of said Star Bar from dancing on the bar.

“If you’ll excuse me, I really have to go to the ladie’s room,” you said, starting to walk past him in the now crowded kitchen before turning back to face the blond. “Would you mind holding my drink?”

“Sure,” Jason said, even going as far as putting his own drink down so that he could cover the top of yours fully with his hand. Maybe this party hadn’t gone completely to shit.

The line to the bathroom was nonexistent and you’d managed to finish your business in record time. You checked your appearance in the mirror before clicking the lock on the bathroom door and opening it to see the one person you really wished you hadn’t.

He pushed his way through, slamming the door and locking it behind him.

“What are you doing, Jost? Let me out,” you said.

“You really think you can come here and flirt with some random guy in my kitchen?” he scoffed. With every word he took another half step closer to you until your back was pressed against the far wall.

“What do you mean your kitchen?”

“Did Dre not tell you? Can’t believe this is the fourth time you’ve been here and you didn’t even know who’s apartment it was. I think that’s a little rude, if you ask me,” he cooed. Four times; he was counting. He’d made a mental note every time you’d been sitting on his couch and he’d been too fucked up about it to do anything.

His knee pushed your thighs apart as his hands found solace on the wall beside your head. You felt the sudden urge to spit in his face. Or to let him spit in yours.

This was much more possessive than he’d ever acted when you were together. Granted, he hasn’t acted the same way he’d been when you were together in the year and a half you’d been apart.

“Answer me,” he hummed. “It’s rude isn’t it.”

You tilted your head to the side in response only for Tyson’s thigh to press up further so that it was resting against your core. You took the sudden close proximity between the two of you to gauge the changes in his features. Most obviously was the beard he was sporting now, he’d never been able to accomplish more than a patch here or there while you were dating despite his best efforts. His shoulders were more filled out now, too, and his curls looked longer. He looked more… mature, if that was the word for it.

“Answer me,” he tutted. “Or am I gonna have to fuck it out of you?”

“You’re a lot bolder than I remember, Jost,” you gasped. There was a definite wet spot growing in your underwear at the rasp in his tone.

“You’re just as annoying,” he said before one of his hands found your hip. His mouth came crashing against yours an instant later, a rough mess of teeth clanging together as he popped the button on your jean shorts. “Don’t worry, sweetheart. I’m sure I’ll fuck that out of you, too.”

The comment caused a gasp to slip past your lips as he removed his knee so that he could tug your bottoms to your ankles in one fell swoop. His fingers were quick in replacing the delicious pressure against your clit, circling the nub with the pad of his finger.

“Do you still make those pretty little noises you used to make?” he asked, only to pull a whimper out of you not even a second later when he slipped a finger into your hole.

“You’re still a dick,” you moaned as you dropped your head to rest against his shoulder. You bit down on the cotton of his t-shirt to conceal the whimper of emptiness as Tyson slipped his finger out of you so that he could push the band of his sweatpants down just enough for his cock to slip out.

“Yeah? And you’re about to cum all over it.”

The string of profanities that followed from your part were involuntary.

He pushed into you slowly until he was halfway in before snapping his hips forward in one quick motion so that your pelvic bones were pressed together. You hadn’t felt this full since… Well, since him.

“Fucking-“ he hissed. “I forgot how tight you were.”

His eyebrows furrowed as he started thrusting his hips. You would’ve been able to admire it longer had your eyes not rolled into the back of your head. Your hand slipped down between your bodies to rub your clit only to be swatted away and replaced by Tyson’s a moment later.

His name rolled off your tongue like a chant as you felt your orgasm building with each pump of his hips.

“I’m gonna cum, holy shit,” you said.

“That’s right, baby. Cum all over my cock,” he said. The rhythm of his thrusts was getting sloppier by the second and you could tell he was getting close. “Fuck, fuck, fuck. Where do you want it?”

“What?” you asked, head still very hazy from the impending orgasm.

“I can’t cum inside you—shit,” his thrusts slowed. “Where do you want it?”

“I’m on the pill,” you rushed out in hopes that he’d start fucking you again. The thought alone almost had him falling apart.

“Holy shit, ok,” he mumbled before picking up his thrusts once again. It was a step the two of you hadn’t taken before, and he was dying to see his cum drip out of you.

“Fuck, Tys,” the words came out rushed as your high washed over you. Tyson came soon after as ropes of it coated your walls in hot spurts.

Your senses came back to you as you came back down. What the fuck were you doing? Why did you allow yourself to hook up with the ex you were still pretty sure you hated in a bathroom.

“I-I’ve gotta go,” you said, pushing Tyson off, and subsequently out, of you so that you could pull up your shorts and button them.

“Wait, Y/N,” the flustered, blushing Tyson you thought you’d never see again made an appearance as you threw the bathroom door open just as he tucked himself back into his boxers. The fly of his blue jeans was undone as he chased you out of the bathroom, practically begging you to stop as he followed you out the front door.

“Leave me alone, Jost,” you scoffed as you watched him zip his pants out of the corner of your eye.

“There’s no way you’re gonna go back to hating me after that,” he said. You could feel his cum dripping into your panties as he spoke.

“We made our decision last year. We should’ve left it at that,” you shivered in the open exterior of his apartment complex, silently cursing yourself for thinking a jacket would ruin your outfit.

“You’re fucking kidding me, right?” a dry chuckle slipped from his lips. “After all of that? After a year and a half of pretending, you can’t admit it?”

“I wasn’t pretending-“

“Like hell you weren’t. There’s not a day that goes by that I don’t regret even mentioning the idea of a break between us. What we had doesn‘t just go away,” he took a step towards you. You could still hear the music from inside his place, though it was fainter now and still half-muffled by the various conversations just past the front door.

“We weren’t working out,” you said, though it came out as more of a squeak.

“You and I both know we could’ve worked on it. We were stupid to let what we had go over nothing,” he said. “I miss you.”

Your resolve was breaking more with every word.

“Jost, what if this doesn’t work?” you asked, allowing him to get close enough to take your hand in his. It was quite the contrast to the way he’d been with you not even ten minutes ago.

“Would you stop calling me that?” his features were screwed tight as he asked. “You only call me that when you’re mad at me.”

“Tyson,” you said, only to be greeted with a knowing look in his brown eyes. “Tys.”

“We’re gonna work out,” he said. “We’re gonna work out because…”

“Because?”

“Because I still love you. And I’m not letting you go again,” his voice had lowered to a whisper and it shook and his forehead was dangerously close to resting against yours. Within the span of an hour, he’d transformed back into the shy boy you’d given your heart to three years ago on his blue couch.

“Ok,” you whispered back, closing the distance and resting your foreheads against each other only for Tyson to bridge the gap completely with a tilted head to plant his lips against your own.

tagged @ptersparkers @annedub @corebore123 @damndunner @kiedhara @watermelon05 @sidscrosbyy @thelionkingpw @besthockeyfics @iwantahockeyhimbo @beauvibaby

[amazingmaeve]

latibule

latibule is a hiding place; a place of safety and comfort

request - can i request cuddling and comforting bucky? tysm i hope you’re doing good !!

summary:

when bucky has one of his many nightmares he goes to y/n, a former shield agent, place for some comfort. they were starting to get to know each other after the blip with her being alone and bucky and his nightmares.

warnings - angst, fluff

word count -

a/n - this is my first bucky one shot so don’t go to hard on me please!

marvel masterlist // bucky barnes masterlist

As Bucky stirs on the floor he lays on, a nightmare swarms his dreams. This usually happened to him since he got out of Hydras hold. He was lucky enough to have gotten rid of the winter soldier and to be even allowed to step foot in the u.s without being arrested.

But the nightmares were just a reminder of how much damage he has done. Bucky wishes he could undo all of that, all the lives he killed. He knows what Y/N would say ‘it’s not your fault you were being brainwashed’ it helps but doesn’t stop the guilt.

Y/N was a shield agent that he interacted and became friends with after he got some memories back. She fought him when he was the winter soldier and he remembers it vaguely, but he would hate to remember all that since she means very much to him and didn’t ever want to imagine hurting her. She helped him when Steve found him and reassured him that he wasn’t himself when he was doing all the winter soldiers work.

It made his heart race.

Y/N helped him with going to Wakanda and tried to help him with any time she had if King T’Challa would allow her to come. He didn’t know why, Bucky didn’t know why she believed that he was such a good guy. It gave him some hope, something to believe in but also made his feelings for her grow even stronger.

Bucky couldn’t tell if she had feelings for him as he did her. So that’s why he never brought them up, why bring them up if it would only bring him disappointment.

Ever since the blip, she’s not worked for any organization and he’s done with fighting, done with all the fighting he’s done for 90 years. Y/N and Bucky have been hanging out since Thanos' thing ended. They had some things in common, she was trained in an organization from a very young age but was taken in after shield caught her and she began to work for them.

This time the nightmare invaded the lovely dream he was having of Y/N. It wasn’t much different though.

Bucky grunted as a punch was landed to his face and punched back and hit Y/N square in the face with his metal arm making her fall back and hold her face. Before he could even think the memory kept going as it was. He walked towards her and grabbed her arm twisting it making her wince in pain.

Before he could even think about doing anything else to her she kicked him in the balls making Bucky groan in pain but for only a second. That second was enough for Y/N to run down the streets with a gun in her hand. Bucky watched as she ran and began to go after her with a gun in his hand as well.

Y/N looked around in fear and saw nothing that could protect her and when a gun shot was fired she hid herself behind a car and took a breath knowing that he was going to find her any minute. Before she could even think about running again a metal hand wrapped around her throat pinning her to the car.

Bucky couldn’t think for himself as he tried to strangle her something he never wanted to do but luckily a shield hit the his back making him lose his grip on Y/N. He looked behind him and saw Steve but then was punched in the face by her making him let her go.

Before any of this could continue on Bucky sat up straight in a layer of sweat and breathing heavily. He looked around the room realizing that he fell asleep on the floor again with the tv running. He used his flesh hand to rub his forehead trying to get that memory out of his brain. But that wouldn’t work and before he even realized it Bucky was getting his clothes on and walking out the door.

Bucky was on the way to a place where he knows there will be comfort. Y/N. He knows that she’s probably awake still and he could use someone to talk to. She was his comfort place for him, somewhere he could feel safe and welcomed. She was a person that always made him feel warm inside and he loved that feeling.

Before Bucky even realized it he was at Y/N’s place and he raised his hand to knock on the door.

Upon hearing this knock Y/N looked behind the couch to her door and narrowed her eyes in confusion. She put down the popcorn bowl that was halfway empty and paused the television. She got up and fixed her shirt and shorts before opening the door to reveal Bucky who gave her an awkward smile and wave.

“Hey Buck what are you doing here at,” Y/N started to say and then looked at her watch. “1 am,” She looked up at him with confusion in her eyes.

“I was awake and wanted to see what you were doing,” Bucky lied, not meeting her eyes, which made her sigh.

“Another nightmare,” Y/N says sadly looking at him softly. He closes his eyes and nods, making her open the door wider for him to come in. Bucky gives her a small smile making her heart race.

It was no secret to anyone in her life that she had feelings for the man but Y/N couldn’t say anything since he was still recovering from Hydra. She didn’t want to interfere with his progress. She wanted him to be happy even if it wasn’t with her. Bucky stood in the living room awkwardly looking around starting to feel safe again.

“Want a beer,” Y/N offered, opening the fridge and grabbing herself a water.

“Uh sure,” Bucky accepted sitting down on her couch waiting for her to come back and sit next to him. She hopped on the couch next to him and handed him the bottle.

“Do you want to talk about it,” Y/N asked looking down at her lap, she knew that Bucky wouldn’t really want to talk but she was just offering a welcoming ear for him to rant or anything.

“Not really I just wanted to see you,” Bucky scratched the back of his neck and turned to face her with a soft smile dancing on the corner of his lips. She put her hand on his not knowing or caring if it was the metal one or not.

“Well you’re always welcome here,” Y/N softly replied.

“It was about the first time I met you though, well not me the-,” Bucky began to say but paused before he was about to say it. Y/N awkwardly laughed rolling her shoulders pulling her legs up to sit criss cross.

“Made an impression did I,” Y/N softly laughed, knowing what he was talking.

“Kinda,” Bucky laughed a little with her. “But I really didn’t remember that and I didn’t even know I hurt you,” He whispered.

“The thing is, that it wasn’t you who actually hurt me, Buck,” Y/N firmly says, looking him in the eyes trying to make him see the point. He puts his hand on hers giving it a squeeze making her smile at him.

“Why do you see so much good in me, when there was so much?” Bucky whispered, dropping his head so he didn’t have to look at her with guilt flooding his eyes. Y/N sighed before grabbing his chin making her look at him, and she looked at him with sympathy as there was a layer of tears in his eyes.

“Because you’re not a killer,” Y/N began to say. “I have seen many killers and I saw that with the winter soldier and he’s gone. You don’t have the look in your eyes, I don’t see it,” she says with a smile making its way to the corner of her mouth as she explains this to the man. She put her hand on his cheek and used her thumb to softly caress his cheekbone.

Before Y/N could go on Bucky leaned forward and attached his lips to hers and softly moved them. She immediately responded leaving her hand on his cheek and the other on his neck and softly kissed him back. He put his hands on her hips and moved his lips with her.

“Wow,” Y/N whispered against his lips after they parted. Bucky gave her a soft smile, then wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him in for a hug. He stayed still for a moment before he accepted it.

Bucky buried his face into the crook of her neck and listened to her breathing making him calm down as well. He was glad she didn’t run off when he kissed her, scratch that, he was over the moon. She pulled him down to lay down on the huge couch and laid her head on his chest listening to his heartbeat.

“I don’t know if I’ll have another nightmare,” Bucky whispers into her hair, making her nod.

“We don’t have to,” Y/N says looking up at him with messy hair.

“Do what?” Bucky questions narrowing his eyes.

“Cuddle,” Y/N responds with a giggle before sitting back up but was swiftly pulled back by Bucky, making her gasp and wriggle in his arms. She looked up at him with a warm smile.

“Just don’t get your hopes up,” Bucky grumbled, situating himself so she was able to rest her head upon his chest.

“C’mon I know you like it,” Y/N laughed, hitting his chest with her hand before resting her head against his heart. She liked listening to his heartbeat calming itself down and it made herself a little drowsy.

“Get some sleep doll,” Bucky whispers, kissing her forehead, caressing the back of her head, making her fall into a deep sleep.

Bucky didn’t fall asleep for some time, not wanting to get into another nightmare and hurt her. That would be the worst thing he came here to get comfort not to seek another nightmare out. But before he could even control it he was lulled back into sleep listening to Y/N’s soft breathing.

He knows she won’t cure his nightmare but she’ll help him in the aftermath and that’s all he cares about. She would be there for him no matter what.

[barzyyy]

I’m hella in my feels. Break my heart.

one too many.

a/n: prepare yourselves for this one. TW: includes mention of death, alcohol/heavy drinking and self-depricating thoughts. it is heavy. please read at your own discretion. my dm’s are open if anyone needs to talk!

italics = flashback.

read this first, if you haven’t already.

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mat could feel the alcohol meeting his stomach. when did he become this way? he knew that he was not in a condition to be drinking as much as he was. he hadn’t eaten in at least a day. somehow the simplest tasks have become the most difficult.

it didn’t help that it was the offseason. all of his teammates were off on vacation. the jealousy quickly turned into resentment. he deleted all of his social media apps because he couldn’t bear to see anyone else happy. he locked himself inside your once shared house, alone. what used to feel like home now felt unsafe. with every corner he turned, there was something that reminded him of you. lipstick on the counter, your shoes kicked off next to the couch, he left them all in the same spot, praying that this was all a dream and that you would come walking through the door again.

he couldn’t get himself to come to terms with reality.

he drunkely stumbled to the couch, mindlessly turning on the tv and surfing through the channels. he landed on a random channel because his thoughts were overtaking him once again.

mat dreamed of being a dad. you both used to talk about starting a family of your own. would your kids have mat’s hair and your eyes? which one of your personalities would they adopt? he wanted so badly to look through the glass at a game and see you standing on the other side with your baby. he wanted to raise a son and teach him all he knew about how to play. he wanted a little girl to put makeup on him and make him sing the songs of all of her favorite disney princesses.

now, he didn’t want a family at all. you were going perfect mother. no one could ever compete with you. and now that you’re gone, he promised himself that no one would ever take your place. sure, he could have kids with someone else, but they would never be the kids he would have had with you. he didn’t want it.

it was easier to put up a wall and block out the feelings. his grief of losing you was too much for him to handle. he would rather just push everything out, experiencing nothing rather than experiencing everything all at once. every time he thought of you, another part of him was taken away. he was a shell of who he once was.

things would have been different if he had went home to you. had he not gone out to the bar with his teammates after the game, you would have never been in the accident. there would have been no reason for you to go over to your friend’s house. now, instead of remembering the celebratory reason why he went out, his memory was plagued by the phone call he received as he got the worst news of his life.

mat could feel the alcohol meeting his stomach. who was he to turn down free alcohol? getting the game winning goal in game 7 made him feel like he was on top of the world. fans in the bar were covering mat’s tab, and he was partying with all of his teammates. out of the corner of his eye, he saw his phone light up with your caller i.d. and his favorite picture of the two of you. he picked it up and started walking through the mass of people to find a quieter place as he answered the call.

“babe, you won’t believe how many people are here! everyone is buying me drinks and-“

“hello?”

the manly voice was unrecognizable. mat stopped in his tracks.

“who is this?” he questioned.

“this is tom haltford, i’m a paramedic with the long island fire department. do you have a relationship with (y/n) barzal?” he asked.

he immediately sobered up. “she’s my wife, what is going on?” his heart was beating out of his chest.

“sir, i regret to inform you that your wife was in an accident. she was in a head-on collision with an impaired driver. she is currently being transported to nassau university medical center. do you have a safe way of getting there? i can send a police officer to pick you up.”

mat could only muster one sentence.

“is she alive?”

silence.

“i am sending an officer to your location. i am so sorry.”

what brought him out of his trance was the feeling of tears hitting his hand. he had not realized that he was crying, but did nothing to stop the onset of emotions that were to come. he buried his head in his hands, taking in the weight of the fact that you would have still been here had he not decided to go out. his shoulders heaved, but he stayed silent. he sobbed for a half an hour straight.

silence was something mat was becoming all too familiar with. he could no longer listen to the radio because every song he heard remided him of you. he didn’t dare go outside, because he couldn’t stop the jealousy that arose when he saw a couple out together. the best he could do was stay at home. his interaction was limited. when he did eat, all he did was get it delivered. even then, his options were scarce because he didn’t want to eat anything that felt significant to your relationship. he no longer ordered take out from your shared favorite thai restaurant down the street. he avoided anything that remided himself of you.

he would have teammates, family and friends text him every now and again to check in. he made it a point at your funeral to promise that he would reach out if he needed help. deep down, he knew from the beginning that those promises were as hollow as the newly-formed void in his heart.

maybe the irony of it all was that what killed you was the same thing he was using to self medicate. over time, one beer turned into to three, then six. he felt as if it was his only escape - alcohol only solidifed the numbness that he had been feeling. but tonight, he knew that he had gone overboard. there were freshly-chugged beer bottles on the table, and the only thing stopping him from taking some of your sleeping pills was his hope that you would come back for them. in addition to the beer, he was down a glass and a half of wine when his body finally began to reject the liquid. he tried to run to the bathroom, but the closest place he could make it was the kitchen sink. his stomach uncontrollably emptied itself, and he was left gasping in between his heaves. when he was done, he ran his hands under the sink and put water on his face. pulling the kitchen towel from the oven to wipe off his face, he looked up and his eyes were met with the picture on your counter from the wedding.

he was in immediate tears as he saw you walking down the aisle. your dress perfectly hugged your curves and your smile had been the biggest he’d ever seen. he felt a soft nudge from behind him.

”stay strong man, stay strong.” beau whispered, trying to help mat preserve any ounce that was left of his ego.

“bro, i can’t.” he whispered back, tears running down his face. at that point, you began to cry, and then the whole room was crying.

you both struggled through the tears to read eachother your vows. you were so impressed with how heartfelt his were.

“you helped me learn who i was outside of hockey, and i still fall in love with you every single day. ...and you’re a smokin’ 10, too. so that’s a plus.”

the after party was absolutely insane. you danced and drank the night away with your closest family and friends. you were talking to your best friend when mat came stumbling over to you, hugged you and said “can you believe we’re fucking MARRIED BABE?”

that was it. he couldn’t give up on life anymore. who he was becoming was scaring him. he knew that this is not what you would want. with a shaking hand and a breaking heart, he haphazardly picked up his phone and dialed the first number he could think of. there was an answer halfway through the first ring.

“hey man, you all good?”

inbetween sobs, his words slurred together. “beau, i need you.”

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