#these were supposed to be quick little things I could fire off in a day lmao

[butchfoolish]

Consider....8 with Eternalduo if you wanna do a damp ship (Eret x Foosh)

8) oops, we were just hiding in this closet, but then the close proximity get us too turned on not to fuck

2.5k words. Contains: Muffing, blowjobs, and thighfucking.

Eret swallows heavily. Their forehead is pressed up against Foolish's chest, feeling his thundering heart.

It's stupid, honestly, hiding in a coat closet from the rest of the party. They just… they've had a bit too much wine, that's all. They needed a breath of fresh air. The air is stiflingly hot close to the Egg. Humid, too, making sweat soak the back of their dress.

Foolish might be overheated too; his golden cheeks are tinted red, like copper smelted with gold. He's staring down at them, emerald eyes difficult to read in the darkness.

"You good?" he asks. "We can just leave, y'know, if you want to go back to my place. Or yours, I guess, yours is probably closer. Your place is nice."

"No, no, we said we'd be there. I want to give them a chance," Eret sighs, swaying in place. It's cozy in here, just the two of them tucked in amongst the coats and jackets. The bitter winter chill barely penetrates this far underground, but it's cooler than the Egg room.

Foolish looks so nice tonight, too, it'd be a shame to make him go home and take it all off. He looks cute in his vest and half-rolled sleeves, less like a demigod and more like a regular guy. Their hand lingers on his forearm, touching the rough scales on the back of his arms where hair would normally be.

Eret sighs, looking up at him. Foolish smiles back, breathing a laugh. "What's that look for, old friend?"

"You look really nice, that's all," Eret hums, sliding their hands up to his biceps. His muscles are nearly the size of Eret's head, they realize.

"Oh, wait, do you wanna have sex?" Foolish's face splits into a grin, and he immediately starts undoing his shirt. "Because we can totally have sex!"

Eret's entire face starts burning. "What?! No, I just--" They stop themself. The moment they said no, Foolish's face fell. It feels like kicking a puppy. And besides, they'd be a bit of a useless bisexual if they passed up this golden opportunity. His bare chest calls to them. "Y'know what, alright, fuck it, let's go."

Foolish giggles with excitement, hands immediately landing on their hips and pulling them against him. "You have no idea how much I missed this, it's been like a million years or something."

Eret's head spins as they feel the bulge in his pants. "You mean we used to be--"

"We used to be whatever we wanted," Foolish chirps as he unlaces their dress, already grinding on their thigh, oh good heavens he's big. "You always looked soo hot when you're covered in blood, though. Or naked, naked is also hot. Ooh, or tied up. You always liked being tied up, because usually in meant we'd end up covered in blood. Or naked, or both!"

Eret can't really reply, too focused on the fucking log between his legs. "H-how is that even going to fit?!"

"We'll figure it out," Foolish says with a shrug before pulling up their skirts.

"Foolish!" Eret hisses as their face burns hot.

Foolish doesn't reply, instead pulling them flush against himself as he strokes their tucked dick through their panties. He leans in, and they melt like butter when he kisses them. They didn't expect his lips to be just as strong as the rest of him, but he kisses hard and fierce, somewhere between desperate and demanding. They push back, putting up a little resistance and taking every opportunity to explore his mouth as their hands map out the shape of his bare chest. His skin is cool to the touch, like metal. His fingers are hot and tight around their dick as he helps them untuck.

But instead of letting their balls drop, he holds one in place, keeping it tucked inside them with his knuckle as he strokes their delicate, sensitive skin with the pad of his thumb. "Do you trust me, Eret?" They can hear his tail swaying nervously, swishing against the heavy velvets, felts, and leathers of the coats around them.

"I think so," they admit, caressing his pecs. His lips meet theirs again, and he pushes his chest into their touch, grinding harder against their thigh.

Foolish's fingers start to move, pulling Eret's attention from his body to their own. Gently, he's begun to let their ball come untucked before nudging it back in. It makes their spine tingle every time it slips in or out, familiar motions in unfamiliar hands. No one else has ever touched them with such familiarity, fucking them the way they fuck themself.

Foolish gets down on his knees, keeping it tucked with one hand as he gets under their skirts. Eret squeaks in a completely undignified way, biting their lip as they feel his warm breath against their sensitive skin. They bite their lip when Foolish wraps his hand around their aching dick, anticipation coiling in their belly. Finally, Foolish's face comes close enough, and Eret whimpers as his hot tongue licks their sack, teasing the hole their ball is tucked into.

Eret needed years of experimentation to figure out what Foolish seems to already knows about them, and now he's exploiting his experience to make their legs tremble, pumping their cock with one hand as he pushed his tongue into them, like he was trying to tonguefuck them. He only takes his mouth off of them when they start to moan, massaging the surface of their skin where their ball is tucked away, warm and snug inside of them. They can feel it deep in their groin as well, so different from the straightforward pleasure of jerking off.

"Foolish, Foolish," Eret moans, their momentum building further when Foolish directs his attention to their dick. They feel the phantom threat of teeth as he licks the tip, and try to keep their hips still as he closes his mouth around them. Foolish moans, blowing them like he's starving, and the sound of that is just too much for Eret.

They cum with a startled gasp, head thrown back and hands bunched up in their skirts, pulling against the tension they're releasing as Foolish holds them steady.

Foolish is beaming as he gets up, and Eret is still catching their breath when they hear his zipper. With their head heavy and their thoughts slow, Eret watches as Foolish's cocks spring out. His hand lifts their thigh like they're nothing but a doll, and they belatedly realize what he's trying to do, and what he's trying to do it with.

They weren't expecting two, and they have to choke down a startled scream. "Foolish, you cannot put those in me!"

Foolish grins sheepishly, putting their thigh down. "Hey, hey, I'm just kidding, old pal! I just wanted to see your reaction; last time you saw them for the first time, you came in my mouth."

Eret's head spins just trying to imagine the gymnastics necessary for that to happen. "So what's the plan, then?" they ask, jaw already aching at the thought of taking just one of those monsters in their mouth.

"Here, spread your legs a little," Foolish whispers, slipping his cocks between Eret's thighs. He fits snugly, and wastes no time in fucking their thighs.

Feeling the sheer size of him between their thighs, seeing how they dwarf their own dick, Eret can scarcely imagine how they could ever fit just one of his cocks inside of them. They stretch up on tiptoes to kiss him, holding him down with a hand on the back of his head. Foolish moans, grabbing their waist, then their chest, growling softly when their dress gets in his way. He tugs it down, exposing pale skin which he swiftly begins to nip and even bruise with his teeth. Eret gasps, grabbing one of his pecs in retaliation and digging their nails into the back of his neck.

He is being extraordinarily gentle with his teeth, they can feel how much he's restraining himself from tearing straight through the delicate skin covering their collarbones. Eret has seen him bite through bone, and it makes their heart flutter to think he's being so careful not to hurt them. He's holding them close by the hips now, taking his time with them, and in the soft darkness between the coats, it feels like they're the only people in the world.

"Are you sure you don't want to go back to my place?" Foolish pants, holding on tightly to Eret's hips. "We could do this right, on my bed. I would treat you like a queen, you'd look so fucking good coming all over my sheets."

Eret shakes their head. "We can't-- Everyone will notice, I can't…"

"You're no fun," Foolish grunts before pressing another kiss against their lips. His hand slides up to their waist, dragging their skirt up over their hips until he can slip his arm under the fabric and grope their chest. He whines in the back of his throat as he breaks the kiss to watch his hands press their tits together. His lips shine as he licks them, sounding a little out of breath as he speaks:

"Eret, can I-- Just the tip, please? I don't-- I don't wanna make a mess, y'know? Just the tip, I swear, that's it, please," Foolish pleads. His thrusts have become quick and shallow, showing how close he is to coming. "Just one at a time, I promise, I won't make a mess."

Eret bites their lip. Foolish looks so desperate, cocks twitching between their thighs and rubbing against their ass. Humping them like an animal.

"Not in my ass. But… you can use my mouth."

Foolish thanks them profusely, helping them to the floor. Up close, he looks even larger, and their eyes cross trying to focus on the tips. Foolish smiles down at them, biting his lip with his serrated teeth. His hand plays with their hair, twirling the long curly strands. He tilts his head like a dog waiting for a treat.

Eret licks their lips, tasting the beeswax and roses in their lipstick. Cautiously, they open their mouth, and Foolish helps them press the head of one cock past their lips. He watches them intensely as they taste him; salt and the smell of low tide instead of sweat and semen. Fascinating.

Foolish closes his eyes, head tilting back as he luxuriates in the warm, red heat of their mouth. His flesh isn't as warm as they expected, they can't feel the heat of his blood pulsing under the skin pressed against their lips. They swallow before they can start to drool, mindful of their teeth. Just the tip, he said, but even the tip is making their jaw ache a little. Do they trust his word? They wrap their hand around the shaft, and Foolish's brow creases, eyes flashing open to focus on their face. They feel the heat on their cheeks as they realize what they're doing, seeing themself as if from outside their body.

The King, on her knees, paying lip service to a foreign demigod. The press would have a field day with this. The smell of low tide grows stronger, making their head spin.

"Hey, hey, woah, relax," Foolish says, eyes wide as he strokes their hair. "We can stop if it's too much, old pal."

Eret snaps back to themself, suddenly aware of their racing heart and the tightness in their chest that means they haven't taken a deep breath in quite a while. They pull back, breathing with their whole body and letting it out slowly.

"What was that about?" Foolish asks, still stroking their hair. One of his cocks hangs limp against his thigh as he worries his bottom lip with his teeth. Guilt knots itself in Eret's throat, making it difficult to reply.

Eret swallows, clearing their throat. "I'm fine, I just… You're sure you're not going to make a mess?"

"Totally! They only go one at a time, like a gun. Bang! Bang!" He mimes shooting from the hip, nearly poking Eret in the eye with his dick.

"Dude," Eret snickers, pushing it out of their face.

"Sorry, sorry, I'm being weird." Foolish holds it out of their face as they readjust their sunglasses. "Do you, like, wanna stop?"

"No! I mean, no, I was having fun. Let's just finish up quick, right?" Eret pulls up their collapsed dress, tightening the laces again and smoothing out their skirts. "Someone's bound to come looking for us if we take too long."

Foolish nods. "D'you mind if I just use one, then?"

"Be my guest," Eret says, opening their mouth again.

This time they're prepared for the embarrassment, pushing past it to focus solely on Foolish. They keep their jaw slack, pressing their tongue against the groove along the bottom. He seems to like that, gripping their hair tighter as he groans. They keep at it, wrapping their hand around the shaft and pressing their thumb into the groove as they pump the rest of his length. Following it down to the fin it's attached to, they're distracted by the realization that where they expected to find a heavy pair of balls to fondle, there's only a modest slit. Curiosity takes over, and they use their other hand to explore as they pump his cock.

Foolish gasps, knees buckling as Eret pushes their fingertip into him. He braces his hand against the wall, eyes flashing white as his third eyelids flicker closed. "G-gentle, be gentle, holy fuck."

Eret persists, licking and sucking at the tip as Foolish whines and runs his fingers through their hair obsessively. They look up at him, meeting his gaze. Foolish is beaming down at them, eyes scrunched up as his tail beats the air. He looks thrilled, as if just the sight of them blowing him is a gift. He's making noises too, excited little pleas for a just little more with every stroke of his slit.

"You look so good, Eret, I wanna keep you all to myself, I just need--" His hips jerk, pushing his cock in a little further. And just like that, he's coming, holding their head in place to keep it off their dress.

It tastes like warm seawater, and when they can't swallow any more, it drips down their chin like water, nothing like their own spend. They pull off, clearing their throat and wiping their chin. Where a few stray drops have dripped onto their dress, it beads in droplets of milky water for a moment before soaking in. They feel full, too, and wonder just how much they swallowed.

"See, told ya, no mess." Foolish's voice is soft and relaxed, but he's still grinning. Eret takes the hand he offers, pulling themself to their feet. He leans down to meet them in a kiss, licking the rest of his cum off their chin before delving past their lips for just a few moments.

"Ready to head back?" Eret asks when they part, though they wish they could just go home with him and explore his body further.

Foolish nods, tucking both cocks back into his pants and buttoning his shirt. "Let's just get this thing over with. Then we can go back to my place and actually relax for realsies."

Eret smiles, wiping a smear of lipstick off his lips, and giggles as he kisses their hand before leading them back out to the banquet.

[thelaisydazy]

Firefighter!Simon Riley x Reader - Locked Out

“Riley! Bad dog!”

You don’t have time to look up before a familiar German Shepherd barrels into you, knocking you to the ground and sending your keys skittering across the sidewalk. 

You sputter as the dog licks your face before a hand grips Riley’s collar and pulls him off you. You wipe the dog slobber from your face and look up expecting to see Simon, instead you see a broad man with a short mohawk, attempting to reign in the overexcited dog. 

“Sorry leannan, dinnae mean fur ‘im tae get away from me,” he said as you started to get back on your feet. 

“S’alright,” you say, brushing off your pants. You give him a quick once over. He's wearing jeans and a tight fitting navy T-shirt with the fire department’s emblem on it. 

He gives you a lopsided grin. “Lek whit ye see, bonnie?” He teases. 

Your face feels warm as you attempt to stutter out a response. 

“I'm only joking, lasso,” he chuckles at your embarrassment. He glances at the bakery door. “Gett’n off yer joab? Ye must be that wee thing the LT acts so sweet aboot.”

You stare at him for several moments, having little idea what he's saying. “I uh… I was just getting off work yeah,” you finally say. “Bakery's closed for the day, sorry.”

“Oh naw, I wasn’t look’n tae buy anyfing,” he said warmly. “Jus’ walkin’ Riley ‘ere.” He stuck a hand out. “Ye can call me Johnny.”

You shake his hand, giving him your name as well. “It’s nice to meet you,” you say. “I don’t mean to rush off, but I need to get home.” You stick your hands in your pockets, finally registering that your keys weren’t in their usual place. You pat your other pockets before looking around at the ground. 

“Whit ye look’n fer?” Johnny asked. 

“My keys,” you say. “I think I dropped them when Riley ran up.” Your eyes scan the sidewalk before spotting the storm drain by the curb. Johnny seems to read your mind as he walks over and looks through the grate. 

“Wee charm oan it?” he asks. 

You groan. Of course your keys had fallen into the storm drain. How were you supposed to get into your apartment now? Your landlord was away on holiday and he hadn’t left a spare behind. He wouldn’t be back until tomorrow night. You’d just spend the night in the bakery, but you’d already locked up for the night and no one would be back until morning. 

Johnny seems to sense your distress as he claps you on the back, knocking you from your thoughts. “Ye can stay wi’ us at th’ station house,” he suggested. “We can even get yer keys oot th’ drain fur ye.”

“I don’t wanna be a both-” you start to say but are cut off by Johnny. 

“Dinna fash!” he beamed at you. “ Nae trouble at all.”

Before you could protest, Johnny wraps a muscular arm over your shoulder and starts to guide you back to the station, grinning to himself as Riley trotted happily next to you. Simon was going to love this.

---

As a treat, here's a second one today <3

[attapullman]

That's Mine | Robert "Bob" Floyd

Summary: Bob likes Rooster. He does. So why does he suddenly hate him when his childhood best friend agrees to go out on a date with the pilot?

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: f!reader, 18+ ONLY as always, smut, protected pinv, oral (f receiving), praise!kink, fluff, dirty humour, alcohol mentions, sorry to all the Rooster girlies

Author's Note: This is my official jealous best friend!bob entry for my event International Bob Floyd Fucks Month. Thank you to everyone who has celebrated this silly little thing and continued the Bob Fucks agenda. I just love him so much. Save a Rooster, ride a Bob!

“What do you mean Rooster asked you out?” 

He’s hot on your heels through the house, following you out to where you’re watering the ferns on the deck. You can’t see his face, but the simmering annoyance is palpable. In your mind’s eye you can see the little vein that pops out only when he’s seriously irritated. An emotion he reserves only for you.

Who would have guessed that two strangers pairing up for a Mommy & Me class decades ago would evolve into the inseparable, eye-rolling, belly laughing attachment of you and your best friend. He keeps you focused, eyes on the prize and safely home by ten. You bring Robby out of his shell, actually wanting to jump in and join the crowd. Occasionally both giving each other a headache, but always ending with a punch on the shoulder while sharing a carton of Haagen Daas. 

You roll your eyes and stick your tongue out at him. He’s being so annoying about this Rooster thing.

It’s been four months since you followed him out to San Diego. A quick summons to Top Gun that led to him out in the middle of the ocean while you whined to your roommate about what if he doesn’t come home this time? How could you possibly survive without him infodumping about WWI missiles and whether milk or dark chocolate made better cookies? 

And then you’d gotten the call,  B.O.B. flashing across the screen and the photo from that summer in high school where he let you paint a butterfly on his face. The mission was successful. He was safe. And he was staying in Fightertown permanently with this squadron. A few months later, when your roommate accidentally lit your stove on fire, he asked if you wanted to come down and stay for a few weeks. By the end of the month you had rented a small craftsman and his truck was a regular fixture outside.

Then a month ago, when he’d swung by after work, khaki uniform freshly pressed, and asked if you wanted to come to the local Navy bar to meet the names he spent so much time talking to you about. Fiddling with the edge of his glasses, nervous you wouldn’t like his new crew as well as the Lemoore squadron you’d spent years befriending. But if they were good enough for Bob, they were good enough for you.

Rooster was hot. All curly auburn hair and big brown eyes. You’d hit it off quickly, the two of you against Phoenix and Bob, sharing stories about your beloved bespectacled WSO and his sassy quip of the day. Phoenix still couldn’t believe that Bob had used a Superbad quote for the high school yearbook. You still remember the horrified look on his mom’s face.

But last night had been different. Phoenix and Bob had huddled a Budweiser cup of peanuts and discussed strategy most of the night, Fanboy rounding off the table once he heard “electronic warfare”. Your best friend’s dedication to work was commendable, but what were you supposed to do at a Navy bar when he was busy? Luckily the baby cow-eyed pilot had taken pity and bought you a round, taking you out to the back deck to appreciate the beach while Hangman rowdily dominated the pool table. 

Rooster had been sweet, asking about your childhood with Bob and what you thought of San Diego. Between the kind male attention and the slutty light wash jeans, you were only human for looking up at him through your lashes and flirting a little. And you felt light as air when Bob came outside ready to take you home, your number in Rooster’s phone and a date secured for Friday. 

“Seriously? You’re not going to answer me?” Why was annoying Robby so fun? So sweet and calm under the most pressured of situations, every once in a while he prickled. 

You finish with the deck plants and retreat back inside, making sure the windowsill babies are plenty hydrated in the late afternoon sun. “Why do you care? You like Rooster.”

It’s alarmingly loud in the silence as he thinks through that one.

Because Bob does like Rooster. He’s a little older, outgoing, the kind of guy he trusts on a life-or-death mission. In the last few months he would even venture to say they’d become more friends than coworkers, Natasha always bringing them together for a night out. So why did it bother him so much when you said you were going out with Rooster tomorrow night?

Instead of answering, he keeps his conflicted thoughts to himself and starts helping with the plants. There’s no point in an argument he’s not going to win, especially when he’s not sure what he’s even fighting for.

You watch him out of the corner of your eye, metal frames glinting in the low afternoon light, gelled hair out of formation from training with his helmet on all day. Maybe you did overstep by agreeing to go out with one of his coworkers. “You want to get street tacos and make fun of C-list celebrities?” 

His eyes light up as he nods and overwaters your calathea.

Half a six pack of Mexican lager later and the two of you are sprawled across the living room furniture, Bob’s socked feet up on the coffee table and yours over the arm of the wingback he helped you haul home four years ago. Save the fuzzy tipsiness clouding your senses, you’re transported back to weekend nights in high school. Watching old John Hughes movies and laughing so hard soda shot up your nose. Life has been full of so many incredible opportunities, but evenings in front of the TV with Robby are your most cherished memories.

“Oh my god!” you squeal. “Could he be any more cringeworthy? Put a shirt on!” Your fingers cover your eyes, pretending to be offended by the young twentysomething currently stripping off on your trashy television show of choice. 

Bob laughs from his spot on the sofa, beer can dwarfed in that massive hand. “Oh please, you love when they’re half naked for no reason.” He feels that weird tug in his chest for the second time today, but chalks it up to the meat from his street tacos. 

You roll your eyes playfully, giving him that toothy smile you’ve perfected since elementary school. “Ya,” you slur a little. “But as my best friend you’re not allowed to judge.”

As if he could find fault in you.

Payback has been talking to him for the past twenty minutes. Bob hasn’t heard a word. Just continues staring at the front door of the Hard Deck like it will magically conjure you. 

You’re out with Rooster right now, at that restaurant with the breathtaking ocean view and spicy mozzarella sticks. And while you didn’t tell him, he knows you’re wearing the dress with the eyelet lace and your hair down for once. And you’re probably giving him that toothy grin while he talks about 80’s music and shows you photos of working on the Bronco. You’re likely planning your second date already.

He likes Rooster. He likes Rooster. He likes Rooster. So why does he suddenly hate him?

Payback has completely given up on conversation when the door opens and in strides that floral print smug son of a bitch. Bob’s hand grips the table, grounding himself that it’s not a hallucination. Rooster’s hand is respectfully on your waist, leading you through the throng of Friday night patrons. And you look pretty as can be in that dress, your hair slightly covering your warm cheeks and bashful eyes as a strong man looks after you. 

The pilot grins at his squadron, tipping his chin in greeting, knowing he’s got the prettiest girl in the room on his arm. You give Bob a goofy lopsided grin, happy to see him after a lovely night out. Happy that Rooster offered to drop you by before taking you home so you could see your best friend. 

There’s nervous energy bubbling under your skin, eager to download about your dinner and drinks, and you wish you were back at home in the kitchen, mugs of hot chocolate in your hands while you and Robby gabbed about your latest romantic excursions like back in the day.

Things were so much simpler when you were seventeen.

Especially because back then he wasn’t weird when you had crushes, or met someone on Hinge. And he certainly didn’t give you that tight lipped frown that you want to smooth off his face. It’s you and him against the world, so why does it suddenly feel like it’s you against him?

“Hey Robby,” you start, giving him your gentlest smile. “You win darts?” He gives a half shrug, picking at his cup of peanuts. Cool, that’s how he’s gonna play it.

You sit next to Rooster at the piano, letting him play a few songs and rally the crowd. You’re a little bored of the repertoire you’ve heard on repeat since your first Hard Deck visit, but give him an encouraging smile nonetheless to be polite. 

You like Rooster. But even after a nice night, you know you don’t want to pursue this. Not at the sake of your friendship with Bob.

Everyone’s stomping their feet and slapping their hands to Ozzy Osbourne’s “Crazy Train” when exhaustion hits you. The back of your hand against your mouth signaling that you’ve had enough for one day. The sweet chocolate eyes of your piano partner give you a caring look as he asks if you want him to drive you home. The hope for a goodnight kiss twinkles in his eye.

“No need, I can take her!” It’s instant adrenaline the way the WSO has launched across the room. You rush to thank Rooster for a nice night as he’s left behind on the piano bench. Bob hasn’t said a single word to you all night and yet he’s borderline dragging you out to his truck. The calloused edges of his fingers digging into your bare arm, the soft flannel of his shirt brushing against your hands when he helps you into the truck. They’re all familiar feelings, yet tonight feels different.

He’s completely silent on the drive, the radio playing some alternative rock music barely audible over the silence. He may be quiet with others, happy to take a back seat, but he’s never had an issue piping up with you. It’s punishment. Punishment for trying to have a good time with a guy who you’ve decided you don’t want. 

When he parks in front of your cozy craftsman - the house he toured with you, helped you with the paperwork, bought the bubbly to commemorate the occasion - you’re both at a standstill. Last night you’d been able to put your differences aside for trashy television and tacos. Tonight…you’re just hoping he’ll come inside.

“Who do I gotta bang around here to get you to come inside?” His chuckle is weak, eyes looking anywhere but you.

Because while you’re trying to figure out where you’ve gone wrong, Bob has been having an existential crisis since Bradley fuckin’ Bradshaw put his hand on your waist. A crisis that’s been gaining speed since you followed him out to Lemoore all those years ago and has arrived at a screeching halt, crawling out of his throat. And he’s too shy to tell his lifelong best friend what’s been bothering him for as long as he’s known.

You’re…it. 

It’s the way you laugh with your entire face. How you always have a comeback. Your endless love for others. The endearing way you order a pancake for the table at brunch. You’ve been the entire package this whole time. And someone seeing it before him is infuriating.

He follows you inside, watching the way the light radiates at the high points of your face. This is going to be harder than expected.

Robert Floyd has known for years that his best friend is amazing. Practically his whole life. Not a single doubt they’d make an incredible partner. The tiniest crush forming at just how good of a partner. Daydreaming about their current arrangement - the movie nights, the early morning beach walks, the Sunday afternoon bubble tea runs - with a dash of domestic bliss had his heart thudding in his chest.

What he hadn’t been prepared for was Wednesday night, when he came to collect you for the drive home. Sitting next to Rooster, a cup of peanuts loosely hanging from your hand as you looked up at the pilot with long lashed eyes and a seductive twitch of a smile. The way you’d bitten your lip when you said goodbye, turning back to Robby with that flirty glint still in your eye; instantly resetting to friendly excitement as you followed him to the parking lot.

He needed to make you look at him like that.

And now here, in your living room, while you hand him a glass of water and look at him with those impossibly pretty eyes - fuck. How does he explain?

You’re concerned, watching the turmoil on his face and convinced you’ve seriously crossed a line this time. You’ve always been the troublemaker of the dynamic, the bursting bubbly energy to his impossibly sweet silence. Won’t he please share what’s on his mind?

He’s not sure if it’s the burning need to release this tension from his body, or the way your face looks so upset at his indecision, but suddenly the dam bursts. All rational thought out the window as he finally speaks up.

“If I don’t fuck you right now I think I might die.”

It’s impossible to tell whose eyes are wider. His in embarrassment that came out and so whiny. Yours in total shock. Your brain has blue screened and all you can do is blink slowly back into focus, centering on the pink cheeks and bashful baby blue eyes in front of you.

Licking your lips, you sputter out, “W-what?”

You both know you heard him. It was impossible not to with the intense neediness dripping out of every syllable. His carnal need to know what you feel like, taste like. The way those thick, long fingers of his tensed on his knee.

A thousand emotions pass behind your eyes, reflected in his glasses. A handful of ways to handle this situation, but only one makes sense. 

“Come over here. We can’t have you dying, now can we?”

There is nothing graceful about the collision of bodies that happens. Navy-trained strength meeting enthusiastic energy. He’s across the room before you can finish your sentence, the slight pause of uncertainty met with your bound into his arms. Warm lips finding each other, hesitant yet sure. The hands on your hips are familiar in a different circumstance. 

The waves crashing down on Bob’s brain slow, and he’s instantly soothed as he enjoys the subtle tang to your taste. You’ve worn the same perfume for the last decade, yet this is the first time it’s driven him wild. Pulling back, he takes a deep breath to fill his lungs with the perfect scent. His fingers, fast as light when he works controls, are slow and controlled over the curve of your waist. 

“I hate that Rooster touched you. You’re mine.”

“I’m yours?’

He leans forward, gaze level, breaths intermingling. “You’re mine.”

Eyes wide, glossy lip between your teeth…Bob hasn’t seen anything sexier in his life. Your arms wrap around his neck, fingers scratching along his scalp as you fight for dominance in your kisses. He’s gaining confidence the longer you moan into his mouth, a sinful sound he wasn’t prepared to hear. Years of listening to you talk about dates and crushes, and now he’s experiencing it first hand.

You’re caught up in the way he’s trailing his large hands up and down your torso, tentatively brushing against the curve of your ass. Waiting for him to call the shots for what happens next. Frustrated he hasn’t already spread you out on the stupidly expensive cotton duvet he convinced you to buy.

“Robby?” He hums, lips preoccupied with your neck. “Not to be ungrateful, but I thought you were going to fuck me?”

The deep scarlet that spreads across your best friend’s cheeks is one for the record books. Jackpot.

He’s practically falling over himself, hands everywhere at once as he collects his thoughts. “You’re sure…you’re sure you want this?”

The seething jealousy that’s consumed him since Wednesday has dissipated, and the horny fog has lifted temporarily. All that’s left is ensuring you’re both on the same page. Once this happens, there’s no going back. As much as he’s looking forward to taking off that pretty dress, you need to be ready to make the same leap.

Swallowing a deep breath, drowning in those eager cerulean blues, you shift your thigh to press against the bulge in his jeans. A bulge all the girls in Lemoore talked about when they thought you weren’t listening. There’s a curiosity burning in you, a need to know if he’s just as sweet in bed as he is when he’s picking you up or helping with dinner. Things have always been platonic - they needed to be, you wouldn’t have survived a childhood crushing on the bespectacled sweetheart who grew up to be an incredible man.

You know the risks, but the rewards are greater. Life is too short to not experience fucking Robert Floyd.

A kiss to his lips. A wink. “I’ve never wanted anything more.”

You sound like children giggling on the playground as you run down the hall to your bedroom, trying not to trip on the hall runner as he presses you against the wall to pepper you in scorching kisses. Breathy laughs as you explore this new part to your dynamic. Overwhelming lust mixed with lifelong companionship.

Once you make it to the bedroom - that supima bedspread underneath you, his hips cradled against yours - the innocent giggles dissipate as you take in the man above you. No longer the pink-cheeked child, the gawky teenager, Robby is nothing but height and strength and…broad? When did he get so broad? Naturally so meek and unassuming, the pure size of him is unexpected. But pinning you to the bed with those veiny hands and strong thighs, a collision of attraction overwhelms you.

There’s nothing delicate about the way he grinds his hips into yours, whimpers leaving both your lips. Your panties are soaked, he’s stretching the front of his jeans. Desperation fills the space between you.

His lips wander from your jaw, your neck, the space behind your ear, all the way to your passion-swollen lips. His voice is unsure, but hopeful, as he whispers against them, “Can I go down on you?”

Your eyes bloom wide - not only because you’d like nothing more, but you’ve remembered something from years ago. Something at the time you’d tried to forget. A night out with the Lemoore crew at that shoddy bar, everyone drunk after being out at sea for weeks, and you sat near the back waiting for Bob to come back with drinks. A small group of female aviators sat at the next table over, having clocked the shy WSO on his way to the bar. One had giggled, her friends shooting her a questioning glance. You’ll never forget when she replied, “I’d heard the rumors and didn’t believe them, but can confirm that Bob Floyd eats pussy like a starving man. Best hour of my life.”

As soon as he sees your slightly too eager nod, he’s working his way down your body, appreciating the feel of your dress and soft skin. Breath held as he officially breaches out of friend territory and lifts the hem, treating himself to the satin he can’t wait to pull aside. 

Lip worried between your teeth, a whimper is punched out of you when a hot mouth secures itself around your mound, thick tongue exploring the crevices of your covered folds. A finger slips itself along your entrance, bringing to attention the soaked material.

“Someone’s excited.” The lust-driven chuckle against your thigh has you shivering. “You want me to eat your sweet little pussy?”

He’s never used that voice on you, husky and mocking. You’re shaking with desire, for him to stop teasing and give you what you want. An hour ago he was just your friend, and now you’ve never felt so needy for a man’s touch. So far gone you don’t even notice the desperate nod you give him.

He presses another wet kiss to your clothed clit before wrapping his long fingers in the fabric. Prompting you to lift up slightly so he can have unimpeded access to this feast. Skimming his nose along your thighs, hot air directly on your slick cunt. The whimpers escaping you doing nothing but prolonging the teasing.

Bob can feel how you tremble, the way your fingers are smoothing over the bedspread in an effort to self-soothe. He’s satisfied that he’s gotten you as frustrated and ill-content as he’s felt for years. Needing something, not knowing if you’ll like it, but knowing that if you don’t have it you’ll never feel satisfied.

His fingers spread you out. Head dips. The lightest touch of his tongue to damp arousal.

Holy fuck. He does eat pussy like a starving man. Pushing his face in closer and closer, his tongue reaching for every inch of the promised land. His fingers wrapped around your thighs, pulling you in. Hot, wet muscle opening you up as he drools. 

Eyes unfocused, you’re in a new dimension and yet he’s enjoying it more. 

That deliciously fuzzy feeling starts to tingle in your stomach, pressure building between your thighs as your best friend helps himself. Blunt nails raking up and down your legs to ground you in the experience. The sharp edge of his metal frames occasionally snagging on the skin. They alone make you want to cry to the heavens. But it’s the way he’s sloppily forcing his tongue into your cunt, lewd noises ringing around the room, that has you clamping your lips shut to not wake all of San Diego.

He senses that you’re holding back, not giving him everything he wants. You’ve been best friends since day one, he knows when you not being authentic.

That delicious tongue withdraws from your thighs and you can feel his stare on you. Waiting patiently for you to make eye contact. The pussy drunk, yet concerned look he gives you as he nudges you. “It’s okay, it’s me. I’m never going to judge you.”

Blue eyes meet yours. The same blue eyes that have consistently seen you safely out the other side of any bad situation the two of you have faced. That always comes home from deployment so matter how much you worry. The same ones that you know will guide and protect you on this journey as well. He’s your best friend. No one else can keep you this safe.

After your nod, he dips his slick lips back to your core, his smile upon your skin. Quickly losing himself in your flavor as he nudges you back open. His own hips rocking against the mattress as you allow your bitten lips to part, moans and whimpers and sharp intakes of breath filling the air. Losing yourself in his over-and-above technique to bring you to the edge.

His own muted moans vibrate against your core. Dexterous tongue and calloused middle finger (followed quickly by another) sliding in and out with ease. It’s too much and not enough, overwhelming your senses and making your brain whirr. Skin slick with sweat as that fuzzy feeling in your stomach returns and your feet tingle. Your eyes gazing unfocused down at Robby, hopelessly turned on at his dedication to making you feel good.

“C’mon, be good for me.”

His muffled words stretch the string and bring you home, thighs clamping around his damp face as a scream escapes your throat. Fingers twisting in the bedspread. Back arching. The view has him slack jawed and starry eyed, fingers still pumping in and out to prolong your orgasm. A slight tilt of his lips into a smile at how content you are when he finally catches your gaze through labored breaths.

Your brain slowly comes back to you, thoughts racing through sludge. Eyes fixed on cerulean as a smile stretches your lips. “Where the fuck did you learn to do that?”

He laughs, a surprised, carefree sound as he uses your thighs to help himself up the bed. Gives you a little wink as he grins, “It can get kind of boring on deployment.”

“Recon and intelligence protection missions are boring?”

“Yeah, when you’re not there to annoy me.” His dimples are out in full force, laughter twinkling out of every pore on his perfect face. You slug him a little, your orgasm still working its way through your body. The urge to roll over and sleep just as strong as the urge to shove him in your cunt through his jeans. 

You’ve had a taste and you need more.

He’s already one step ahead of you, shrugging the soft flannel and faded tshirt from his body. Gently cranes you in his arms as he helps unzip and lift your dress above your head. The garbled choking sound and intake of breath when he realizes you aren’t wearing a bra makes you proud. You’ve always thought Bob was attractive in an understated, sweet way. To know he’s attracted to you makes any doubt about this situation indefinitely fade.

Sitting in front of him, not a scrap of fabric on you, you feel good. He’s the best guy you know, the one you have always sung his praises because there’s literally no one better. The only difference between a friendship and a relationship is sex. That’s all that’s been missing.

It’s time to take the plunge.

You swallow his lips with yours, fingers twisting in his sun-lightened hair. His arms wrapping around you, holding you secure to him. Both of you gasping at the feeling of your bare torsos touching. It’s electric. It’s satisfying. It’s grounding.

Hands quick to unzip his jeans, laughing as he tries to help only for you to bat him away. “You got to undress me, I want to undress you.”

The groan he emits reverberates. You’re so sexy and it’s driving him crazy. There was his fleeting crush in high school, but this…this is beyond his wildest dreams. Allowing your soft fingers to dip below the waist of his boxers, shimmying the denim and cotton down his legs. Your lips struck open in awe at the heavy, hard, thick appendage resting against his thigh. 

“You tell me every secret you have, and yet you keep the python in your pants to yourself?” He laughs, a hand wrapping around the base as you flounder to mentally combine Robby, your meek best friend, with the red-tipped joyride protruding from his pelvis. 

He helps himself to a condom from the box in the nightstand - the one you jokingly said you’d never use when he watched you unpack. You’re almost worried it’s going to be too small, but he glides it on with ease before lowering you both onto the bed, biceps straining as he adjusts. Bob can feel your slick center against the bottom of his dick and it’s taking everything in him to not make himself at home.

As you prepare yourself for what’s about to be a hell of a stretch, he kisses the top of your breasts, skimming his nose against your soft skin. Even in this moment his main priority is making you comfortable and feel safe. “We can go slow, it’s okay.”

But where Bob is safe and secure, you’re adventurous, curious. You want to know what he feels like now. 

The wild fire of your eyes bores into his calm ocean blue. “Where’s the fun in that?”

A shift of hips and he’s slipping through, arousal and spit gently gliding the tip of him in. Your fingers twist in his hair, pulling on the Navy-approved length at the nape of his neck. A sharp tug that prompts a yelp as he drives his hips forward, slipping inch after inch into you. Your eyes rolling into the back of your head as you struggle to adjust. Fuck, he’s so big.

He’s kissing your temple, whispering how good you’re being for him. I know it hurts, you’re doing so well, almost there, baby. His thumb sliding between your bodies to rub pointed circles on your clit. He’s barely started and you’re already leaving your body, watching yourself be stuffed to the brim.

The neatly trimmed hairs of his pelvis poke along your clit and you’re proud of yourself for taking all of him. Nudging Bob softly to move because you’re uncomfortably full. Back arching into his strong chest as he explores parts of you that you didn’t know existed. 

In no time at all he’s thrusting with all his power, leaving you a moaning mess. Fingers clutching to any sweaty skin you can find, nails leaving their mark. He’s red-faced and huffing above you, eyes switching between your blissed out expression and the way your breasts sway with his heavy thrusts. This is heaven. This is everything. Why did he wait to say anything?

Suddenly you’re pawing at his chest, pushing him to roll over. “C’mon Floyd, let me rock your world now.”

He’s pretty sure you could blow him a kiss and rock his world, but he’s definitely not complaining about the view. The silhouette of you against the San Diego moon - big beaming smile and tight nipples. Wishes he had a camera to forever commemorate the first of many times you ask to ride him. A picture book of your perfect face all the way down to you split over his dick with different backgrounds.

From this angle it’s tight, but you’re not a quitter. Rocking your hips to loosen up, hands finding purchase on his chest. His big smile is back, eyes completely dilated while he can’t decide where to look. You’re seeing stars and he’s seeing diamonds. 

Once rhythm comes to you, you’re bouncing, loving the way he fills you to the hilt each time. His encouraging smile behind golden rims. You’re with someone who knows the real you, who encourages you to be your best self. And with his strong, veiny hands wrapped around your waist, helping along your movements, you know he’s…it.

It’s hard to tell where your moans end and his start, both of you polluting the air with inhales and groans mixed with the occasional squelch of sex. Your skin is shimmering, thighs begging for reprieve. You can’t get enough of the way he perfectly fills you every time. 

Sensing your exhaustion, he brings you closer, slotting his mouth over yours in a filthy, sloppy kiss. Starting to meet your thrusts as you inch closer and closer to your orgasm. Having to calm himself before he ruins your rhythm. The idea of you cumming on his cock has him dizzy. You rake your fingers through his hair one last time, eyes unable to meet as your lashes flutter, and he knows. You’re here, he’s gotten you to the edge.

That big hand on your lower back soothes as you clench for the final time, pulsing. You’ve officially left Earth, watching yourself convulse on top of Robby while he rocks himself up into you. “Good girl…yeah, that’s right…feels so good, huh?” 

Forget the best sex of your life, this orgasm can never be topped.

You’re half-heartedly pressing kisses to his forehead as he begin the descent to his own orgasm. Feet flat to the mattresses as he cants his hips up, desperate to drive every inch into you. The fluttering of your cunt the most amazing thing he’s ever felt, catapulting him over the edge quicker than any partner he’s had before. Shoving his face into your neck, licking at your salty skin, he knows his release is inevitable.

“C’mon Robby, cum for me.”

All reason leaves him and he bites down, lips securing over the delicate slope of your neck. A while light flashes behind his eyes and he’s filling up the condom, squeezing out every ounce of release. He suckles the skin, soothing himself as his spent body blinks back to life. Smiles sheepishly when he meets your eyes, as you smile at him sweetly.

Words don’t exist as you hold each other under the covers, tracing skin and giggling when the other finds a ticklish spot. At some point he disposes of the condom, but you’re still not fully there. Everything is good and special and you want to live in this moment forever.

When Bob strolls into the Hard Deck Saturday night, one arm looped around your waist, everything was right in his world.

His colleagues and friends sat in the back near the pool table, sipping beers and winning a game against another squadron. The two of you stroll up, looking decidedly more friendly than they’ve ever seen. Especially when Bob won’t let go of your waist and you keep touching him. 

You can’t help it. You’ve gotten a taste and now you’re insatiable.

The group takes in their WSO, standing a little taller than usual with his uncontrollable grin. And then they take in you, beaming, all smiles, looking right at home by Bob’s side in your tight jeans and cute little top. A cute little top that perfectly shows off the dark purpling mark mottling on your collar - teeth marks still visible in the right light.

While Robby confirms your drink order, there is stunned silence from the other half of the pool table. Mouths agape, a gleam of pride in Jake’s eye. Phoenix picks herself up first, eyes blinking rapidly at the sudden realization of last night’s events. Clocks that you went out with Rooster, yet went home with Floyd. 

“So, uh, what happened there?” She gestures to the obvious love bite. One that definitely wasn’t there when the group saw you last.

You bite your lip and look at your lifelong best friend. The guy who showed you his love last night…and then several more times this morning. His crinkled eyes drift from yours to the spot where he bit down as he came for you for the first time.

Turning to look at his squadron, he plays it cool and  shrugs, mumbling through his blush, “Can’t blame me for making sure no one else plays with my toys.”

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[mtchee]

Silence is Silver, Your Voice is Gold - [Katsuki Bakugo] SOULMATE SERIES | GN

blurb:

You've got the cranky egoist in 1A as your soulmate. Deemed as an 'extra' in his straight laced life, you've resigned yourself to covering your soul words and sealing your lips, becoming U.A's first year general course prodigy, the silent designer. Despite his distasteful character and colourful atittude, as one of Bakugo's primary costume creators, you work to your utmost to satisfy beyond your client's needs. It's unfortunate that despite your title, the angry pompom won't take a goddamn hint from your silence. When you even go out of your way to avoid him, you start to think that he knows you a little too well despite never having uttered a word.

cw: not edited, second-person-pov, [name] is a general course student, swearing, sassy [name], lowkey enemies to lovers, you hate him, he likes your attitude, onesided e2l??, i know nothing about textiles and design except the bare minimum, [name] and bakugo are kinda cute why am i eating this up omg, [name] tormenting bakugo with bright pink and ribbons

| masterlist | boku no hero academia collection |

[2.5k]

Avoiding Katsuki Bakugo has been a piece of cake.

The guy has such an inflamed ego that he expects the people to part for him wherever he walks.

You met him when the hero course first years were scheduled to mix with the costume design students to discuss both the practical and fashionable output of their hero costumes.

You'd been one of the main designer's for Bakugo's suit, with two others having asissted you in its curation. From his original sketch, you'd syphoned the relevant materials for the prototype, your colleagues aiding in the stitching and detail while you further assessed how it could potentially enhance the use of his quirk.

'Beat it, extra.'

The words had tingled on the back of your neck after he growled at you before you could consult him on his gauntlets' latest design. You had swiftly looked him up and down with disgust at his audaciousness before slapping your sketchpad on the table in front of him and storming off.

You remember hearing the maniacal laughter of his friends while one of your other classmate's (the designer of Shoji's suit) shakily explained to him your presence.

You'd had much better things to do that day, but had decided to go out of your way to personally discuss with him his preference in design and utility so you wouldn't have to go back and forth with various prototypes.

Instead, you got cussed out before saying a single word; what an utter waste of your generous time.

Like hell you were going to deal with a soulmate like that.

You started wearing a thick, velvet choker to hide your golden inked soul words.

Since then, you'd sent your assistants to deliver any sort of message to him. With them doing your communicative bidding, you could put your full focus on the active improvement of his hero costume.

When it would come back burnt from training, you would change and reinforce its material until it was fire resistant. When it got ripped, you would reasses its durability. When his gauntlets got in the way, you would restructure them for better mobility and control.

One day when one of your assistants reluctantly relayed to you Bakugo's irrational displeasure with the pigment of his headpiece (for the seventh time), you'd sent it back hot pink with a black and white frilly ribbon.

He broke your lab door the same day.

Since then, when you'd send off your poor assistants in sacrifice, he'd rattle them and demand for you to face him personally.

You ignored him, but then when your classes started mingling more you couldn't get away from him quick enough.

One of your classmates would sweat in a panic off to the side as you worked at your bench tirelessly with thinned lips and an irk whilst Bakugo yelled and threw a hissyfit at your every move.

"What the hell is that supposed to be? Spandex?!"

"That looks like a lump of shit."

"God, it's ugly."

"Whaddya using that for? Weakass bullshit cloth."

"STOP MAKING IT PINK!"

"No way would that work with my quirk!"

"I'd blow that to smithereens easy."

You had to stop yourself from throwing your sketchpad at him most days. But sometimes you caved and summoned a roll of pink ribbon to stuff in his loud mouth.

He spat it at you and yelled even more, but that single moment of peace and his reddened face made it worth it.

On occasion, you would be lucky and actually get a few decent conversations out of him. His mouth was still foul, but his volume would be acceptable, and his suggestions surprisingly competent and reasonable.

On those days, he would leave with his voice intact, and you with one step closer to the final product.

Your impeccable work ethic and skills and Bakugo's mild decency lead you way ahead of the others in your unit. Eventually, you started having enough time to help out with some of the other hero costumes too--with the permission of both the creator and wearer, of course.

They've all been more than thrilled to work alongside U.A's renouned silent designer.

Although you worked quietly, you made more of an effort to communicate personally with the heroes in training regarding their costumes.

Most were surprised at that, having only known you to work alone and to commune from afar as you've done with Bakugo.

While word of your ingenius spread, unfortunately so too did your most recent work relations.

Bakugo didn't seem to find it funny that you talked to everyone but him.

So you threw all your stationary at him when he stormed into your design lab to make it everyone's problem.

But more specifically, to make it your problem.

"Miss me, nerd?"

Your scathing glare did nothing to Bakugo's arrogant smirk as he waltzes his way past everyone to your work bench.

You narrowly snatch up your latest prototype sketches before he sets down a pair of cold drinks on the table. The condensation drips down, pooling on its surface.

"This it?" He casually quirks up a brow at the strip of hard textured fabric and metal atop your bench. He picks up one of the drinks and slurps from its straw obnoxiously to get on your nerves, "hm, doesn't look like shit this time."

Lately you've been redesigning his utility belt to match the clasps between his protective gloves and gauntlets, additionally extending it to hold extra grenades that activate through his quirk. You've already sent in a request to the support department for those.

"Put ribbons on it like you did last week and I'll kill you."

You fight back a petty smile, recalling the pretty little pompoms decorating the numerous tiny pink bows stitched to each belt loop. He scoffs at your poorly concealed pleasure, and you turn your nose up at him, biting the inside of your cheek mischieviously.

He narrows his eyes at you before rolling them, placing his drink down way too close to your precious papers--again--and resting his cheek on his fist boredly.

Your lips twitch downward in ire at his intrusion of your space, but you work around him nontheless. You don't blink when he cusses as he smacks away a scrap of fabric you toss at him in casual vengeance.

"When's this gonna be done anyway--quit it. I've got a mission in Shinjuku next week." Bakugo snatches a pen you throw at him in mid-air.

You shrug at him, not your problem, but hold up two fingers anyway.

"Two days, huh," He clicks his tongue, "you slackin'?"

He cackles demonically while you log a chunk of stainless steel at his head.

Swear to god--you're gonna make his whole suit neon pink!

He visits you again after his mission, which is evidently successful judging by the fat cocky smirk on his face as he approaches while you stitch up a hero costume from class 1-B.

You deadpan at him as he drops a take away paper bag at the corner of your work bench. Then he tosses his empty utility belt over your most recent handiwork.

"Clasp blasted off."

Bakugo makes himself at home in the spinny chair opposite you, leaning back and putting his boots on the desk as he snags a tasty pastry from the paper bag before pushing it towards you.

An eyebrow twitches as you stare at the no longer existing metal clasp on the support item. A square char mark is left where it would've been. The belt is otherwise untouched.

What, was he aiming for it or something?

Scrunching your nose at him distastefully, you flick the belt off the costume you had been working on and resume your stitching.

"Oi! What about me!?"

You shoot him a sharp glare that makes him scoff. He pipes down nontheless, settling back into his chair with a roll of his eyes and a grumble.

Bakugo's visitations become more frequent.

At this point in time, his hero costume shouldn't need any more major improvements or adjustments until the start of your second year. And yet he's coming in what seems like every other day for any single little thing that bothers him.

Hell, he even comes in to bug you about repaires--you don't do repaires. But he argues that he doesn't want anyone but you 'touching his shit', as he so eloquently explains.

He's come in for his belt clasp six times now, his visor for four, his gauntlets for five, and for the sole of his boots thrice.

The bottom of his fucking shoes.

He can eat your sparkly, bow tied, hot pink and purple swirled shit.

He doesn't even need you anymore!

You're just some stupid non-hero extra. The hell is his deal now?

Bakugo's come in angry today.

He's normally angry, but it's different this time.

You watch him wearily from the corner of your eye as you type out a risk assessment at your desk. School's finished now, but you've been putting this off for a bit, and wanted to get it done while you were still feeling productive.

Less than ten minutes after the last bell rang out and everyone left for the day, Bakugo had come barging in with a stiffer than usual scowl and a dissatisfied furrow in his brows.

But he's been silent.

Bakugo's never been silent.

He sits in the seat adjacent to you, leant all the way into the backrest with his arms tightly crossed and his eyes narrowed, boring into your form.

Each time you glance at him you look away in a hurry as you meet his gaze.

Okay, now it's getting to you...

Slowly, your fingers stop typing, unable to function properly under the intensity of his stare. You don't look at him this time though, and you sweatdrop uncomfortably.

The tension causes your skin to prick, and you tug at your choker discomposibly. The velvet rubs at your skin, irritating it.

You jump when he suddenly speaks.

"What's up with you, huh?" He says it more like a statement, "you're so damn quiet it's eery. Say something."

You give him a disgruntled look.

Is he for real? Is that what his tantrum is about? He can go eat grass.

You turn your attention back onto your laptop, typing again.

He growls at that.

"Don't ignore me, damnit! I know you can say shit!"

Oh, and the shit I would say. You snicker to yourself, but that only seems to tick him off more.

"[name], answer me."

Your stomach drops--he's never called you by your name, let alone your first name. You glance at him again; Bakugo leans forwards with his elbows on his knees, eyes piercing you with a threatening intensity that sends off warning bells in your head.

You look back at him once you grasp the gravity of his tone.

Your annoyed frown fades, and your features soften as to prompt him. He takes in a deep breath, gaze flicking up and down your form as he processes his thoughts first.

He meets your eyes again with a determined resolve.

"I know you're my soulmate."

Fuck, what.

Bakugo scowls when you visibly stiffen, shock coursing your system.

"Get over yourself, you ain't slick. 'S why you've been runnin' from me." He crosses his arms across his chest, lips firmly downturned at your lack of verbal response.

Ice freezes your blood and your gaze flicks away from him apprehensively. What exactly is he expecting from this? Bakugo is a cocky bastard.

An egocentric prick with the means to flaunt it. He's one of the top students in the hero course and he knows it--what the hell does he want from you?

You feel your temper flare.

So what if he knows your soulmates? He obviously thinks he's too good for this shit; fuck fate and all that it stands for, you're just some side character behind him, just like he's said.

You aren't shit to him, and if he thinks he can actually do better than you, well then you know that you can. Who is he to pick and choose who he deserves? In that case, you know what, yeah, he's right, because you deserve better than him any day-

"What?" Bakugo's unappreciated tone fans the flames of the rapidly burning thread containing your tolerance, "still silent?"

"Shut up, asshole! You think you're too good for shit!" Your outburst as you slamming your hands down atop your work bench, the few utensils scattered about clattering in tandem with the vibration, "I'm not just some side piece you can bulldoze! I know my worth, even if you can't fathom it, you eighth-grade-syndrome twit!"

A tense silence settles over the room, and his eyes harden as you stare him down with an unwavering resolve.

Bakugo's lips twitch.

And then he's cackling like a hyena.

You flinch at the abrupt switch, scrambling to process whether you should feel glad or offended that he doesn't seem to be taking your words to heart.

You know for a fact you would not beat Katsuki Bakugo in a fight.

You shiver at the thought, and he beats his fist on the edge of the table as he recovers from his laughter. He lets out a long winded breath, wiping an exaggerated tear from his eye which you deadpan at.

"Ah, damn," Bakugo snorts, "we're really meant to be, eh?" He lifts up the edge of his loose shirt just enough to reveal the glowing golden words inked vertically on his toned waist, "knew there was a reason I could tolerate you more."

"Ditto." You spit out despite the relief flooding you as he stays put. You rub the back of your neck subconsciously.

He eyes the movement skeptically before motioning for you to move towards him. You scrunch your nose at him but oblige when he clicks his tongue irratedly. You've tested his patience enough already.

Once you're close enough he yanks you down and unclasps your velvet choker. You emit a scandalised gasp, feeling naked without it.

"Hey!"

"Give it up," He drawls, "get over yourself."

Bakugo latches a hand around your nape, pulling you forward so your head is bent level with his chest, and your face flushes. Both your hands grip at the armrests of the chair, caging him in as you fight not to fall off balance.

"Ack-" You choke at the feeling of him ever so gently tracing beneath the words on the back of your neck, "-stop that!"

He huffs a laugh, and his breath pans over your skin.

His eyes soften ever so slightly, "You're not jus' some extra, you know..." He lets you up. He ignores the imbuing embarrassment that pairs with the subtle blush tinting his cheeks.

You mull over his words for a second, pushing yourself back to face him head on. You blink slowly, registering his meaning. A gentle warmth settles across your cheeks, and a quiet glee bubbles inside you.

"Yeah?"

Although you bite back a smile, there's a hopeful glimmer in your eyes.

Bakugo grins, "Yeah," and places a reassuring hand atop your head, "not my soulmate."

[storiesforallfandoms]

i need someone older ~ william afton;five nights at freddy's

word count: 3794

request?: no

description: after a bad breakup, she finds herself becoming more and more attracted to her much older boss

pairing: william afton x female!reader

warnings: swearing, age gap (reader is mid 20s, afton is 50s), power imbalance technically (but it's fine), bit of an au (so he doesn't unalive anyone in this one)

masterlist (one, two, three)

I stormed into work, really pushing it for time. I had slept past my alarm and was incredibly reluctant to get out of bed. After the night I had, the last thing I wanted was to work eight hours in a children's restaurant, with screaming kids and the animatronics playing the same three songs all day. But I needed the money, and hopefully a distraction.

"Whoa, who pissed in your Cheerios this morning?" my coworker, Adam, asked.

"Fuck off," I muttered. "I gotta go change into my uniform. Can you punch me in so I'm not late?"

"Yeah. Be quick, though. Afton's here."

I rolled my eyes. "He doesn't even know our names. He's not going to know I'm supposed to be on the clock."

I changed as quickly as I could while having limited space in a tiny bathroom stall. I stuffed my clothes into my backpack and did a quick double check in the mirror to make sure I was work appropriate. I wasn't paying enough attention as I stepped out of the bathroom and managed to literally run into someone who was walking past. I cursed under my breath as I looked up and came face to face with the fucking owner of Freddy Fazbear's.

As if this day couldn't get any worse.

"|'m so sorry, Mr. Afton," I said.

"Don't worry about it," he said. "Where's the fire, though? You seem like you're in a hurry."

How do I answer this without getting in shit? "I'm just, uh...trying not to be late. I had to change, and bring my bag to my locker."

William looked down at his watch. I felt my heart starting to pound.

"Cutting it a little close there," he commented.

"I know."

My grip on my bag had tightened as I braced for the worst. I had never met William before. Despite owning the restaurant, he was rarely ever around. Whenever he was, he was usually tucked away in his office for most of the day and only ever spoke with our manager. Due to this, I didn't know if he would be a hard ass who was about to write me up for running late. After the events of the previous night, I didn't think I'd be able to take getting reprimanded today.

He took me by surprise when he smiled and said, "Just don't let it happen again, okay?"

I nodded, unable to form any words, and scurried around him to the lockers.

Adam looked at me when I finally returned to the floor. "What took you so long?"

"I ran into Afton," I responded.

His eyes widened. "Did he give you shit?"

"Luckily no. Just told me not to let it happen again."

"I warned you that he was here."

I flipped Adam off when I was sure none of the kids could see me.

As if my day couldn't get any worse, my manager came to tell me that I was stationed on the prize counter for the day. The prize counter was probably the worst part of the restaurant. There was never any downtime at the counter. Either there was rowdy children hopped up on candy and pizza screaming about wanting toys they didn't have enough tickets for, or there were tired parents wanting to buy tokens for the arcade games while their rowdy kids were nearby screaming. Not to mention it was right next to the main stage, so the sound of screaming children was only matched by the sound of pre-recorded music coming from the animatronics' speakers. And to top it all off, the closing duties for the prize counter took longer than any other section of the restaurant.

It was the worst section to work, and I already wanted to leave just knowing that was my station for the day.

The only plus side was that being kept busy made the day fly by. But the usual craziness of Freddy Fazbear's was extra unbearable to a point where I felt myself on the edge of tears numerous times. I knew it was going to be a bad idea for me to be at work, and I was really regretting coming in.

I let out a sigh of relief as the last family finally left and the animatronics finally powered down. Adam laughed at me as I put my head down on the cool glass that held the prizes. "You're giving yourself more work to do."

I looked at the smudge I had left on the glass before glaring up at him. "I don't think my one smudge is making things any worse."

"Okay seriously, what is up with you? You've been grumpy all day."

I sighed and shook my head. "I had a bad night."

"Do you want me to help you close up so you can get out of here sooner?"

I gave him a look. "We both know you don't actually want that."

"But I'd do it to help you."

"I appreciate it, but I'll be fine. My annoyance and desire to leave will make me work faster."

Adam didn't fight me on it anymore. He said goodnight and clocked out. Once I heard the front door close and lock, I immediately got to work with cleaning. That was the easiest part as all I had to do was clean the glass of the prize case and pick up the discarded tickets from the floor. When I finished that, I started counting the cash in order to close it off. That was supposed to be another easy task, but my mind being anywhere but the task at hand made it so much harder.

Restocking the prizes was the hardest part. I had been on my own for nearly an hour, and I was both mentally and physically exhausted, so I was trying to rush out of there but found myself fumbling a little extra. I was trying to dump a box of tiny soldier toys into their respective bin when the box slipped from my hands and landed on its side, the toys scattering all over the floor.

It was my breaking point. Everything finally came crashing down around me and the flood gates finally opened. I lowered myself to the floor, sitting with my back against the counter. I buried my head into my hands and began to sob.

"Seems like a bit of a strong reaction to dropping some toys."

I jumped and looked towards where the voice had come from. I was sure I was the only one left in the restaurant, everyone else having left while I was doing my closing duties. Even my manager had left, giving me the keys and the code to the security system. But, turns out, I was wrong, because there was William Afton leaning over the counter to look down at me.

I quickly scrambled to my feet, wiping the tears from my face. "S-Sorry Mr. Afton. I-I didn't realize - "

"Hey, it's okay," he said, cutting me off and speaking in a soft voice. "What's going on? You seem stressed."

"It's...personal things. I shouldn't have let it interfere with my work."

"Fuck the professional shit for a second here. Forget I'm your boss, forget we're on the clock. If there's anything going on that you want to talk about, I'm all ears."

I leaned against the counter across from him. "It's stupid."

"You're crying, so I don't think it's that stupid."

I sighed. "My boyfriend broke up with me last night, after admitting he's been cheating on me for the last three months."

William whistled in response. "That's tough."

I nodded. "It just...came out of nowhere. We've been together for three years, moved in together last year. There was no signs that anything was wrong. I didn't even suspect that he was cheating. He came home last night and suddenly told me everything. Packed a bag and went to his...I guess...girlfriend's house. Told me he'd be back at some point this week to get his stuff."

Tears were stinging my eyes again. I looked away so William wouldn't see me cry anymore. Upon looking down, I realized my bare arms were on the glass of the prize counter, leaving smudges again. I cursed under my breath and turned to grab the cleaner again.

"Here, let me," William said, reaching for the cleaner. "You pick up the toy soldiers and I'll help restock the prizes once I finish this."

I was a little shocked, but definitely was not about to argue over getting help. We worked much quicker as a team and, finally, I was able to clock out to leave. I stood by as William set the security system and locked the gates.

"Thank you for helping me," I said.

"You don't have to thank me," he said. "It seemed you needed help, and I wasn't about to let one of my employees struggle while I was on the property." I smiled at him and started for my car. "For what it's worth - " I paused and turned back to him. " - your ex-boyfriend is a fucking idiot. You seem like a great woman. Don't beat yourself up over him."

He smiled and turned to walk towards his own car. I watched him go, surprised by what he said. Even through the cold night air, I could feel my face burning.

~~~~~~

William was around more after that. Not just in his office, but he was actually out on the floor. Everyone was noticing his increased presence, but I found myself noticing it in a different way. Whenever William was near, my eyes were practically glued to him. I found it difficult to concentrate whenever he was around. Luckily, everyone else was so distracted by his presence that they didn't notice how useless I had become.

It was wrong. I knew that. Having a crush on a coworker was bad enough, but a crush on your boss was a whole other level of bad. Especially when your boss is so much older. I had no idea whether or not he was even married or had kids for God's sake!

But every time I saw him, I couldn't stop my heart from racing. I wanted him in a way I knew I shouldn't, but I couldn't stop myself.

During one of my shifts, I was put on the serving section. Serving was easy enough - take orders, bring food, check on tables. The hardest part was trying not to trip over a child running past while carrying a whole pizza on a hot tray. Most of us had learned the art of scanning the area before we walked, but sometimes you just don't notice quick enough and end up surprised by one of those little fuckers.

One of the cooks passed a pizza through the pass to me and told me the table number. I took the tray and balanced it against my shoulder, something I found was the easiest way to balance the bigger trays. The restaurant wasn't too busy, but there were still enough kids running around that I took in my surroundings before I started to walk. I was making a mental note about two kids who were stood by the stage, dancing to the song that Freddy was "singing", and didn't notice another kid who was racing from one of the playrooms in front of me. I stopped suddenly, just short of running into him, but found myself losing my balance after he ran past.

I felt two hands grab hold of my waist, holding me upright and saving me from a very embarrassing scene. When I turned to thank my savior, I came to face the blue eyes I had been trying to desperately to avoid today.

"That could've been a disaster," William said, a hint of a smile tugging at the corners of his lips.

"Th-thank you," I managed to stutter out. I could still feel the heat of his hands against my waist, like they were burning through the clothes and searing my skin. I almost forgot the heavy tray of pizza I was carrying in that moment.

When he let me go, his eyes still trained on me, I quickly turned and hurried to my table. I tried not to seem so flustered, but I knew I had failed. I stuttered through every sentence before finally dismissing myself to the prize counter where one of my other coworkers, Beth, was snickering to herself.

"What was that about?" she asked.

"Don't ask," I responded.

"Oh, I'm asking. Are you all hot and bothered for Afton?!"

"Shh!" I snapped, looking over my shoulder to make sure no one had heard. Not like anyone would over the usual noise of the restaurant.

"Oh, you so are!" she said. "Holy shit, (Y/N), you know that's bad news right? He's literally our boss."

"I know he is. I'm not stupid. But...I can't help it!"

"At least he would be more of a gentleman than that small dick asshole you call your ex." She looked over her shoulder as the front door to the pizzeria opened. When she looked back, her eyes were wide. "Speak of the devil."

I looked over to see none other than the small dick asshole himself, Josh, walking in. I wished I could disappear into the floor and never be seen again. I tried to turn and walk away before he spotted me, but no luck.

"(Y/N)!"

I groaned and turned back to him. "What do you want, Josh?"

"I was just over getting the last of my stuff - "

"Awesome, I do not care. If you've come to give me your key back, you could've just left it on the dining room table."

"No, I came to say that I couldn't find my Springsteen album."

I furrowed my eyebrows and crossed my arms. "So you came all this way to...what? Ask me what I did with it? I have no idea, Josh, I threw everything that was yours into boxes and garbage bags. If it's not in there, you might've left it in your car or at your new girlfriend's house."

"It's not any of those places." I wasn't sure if I should've been hurt about the fact that he wasn't addressing my last comment directly, but I definitely was a little bit.

"What do you want me to do about it?"

"I wanted to see when you were going to be off work and maybe I could come by to look for it with you."

I scoffed. "Are you serious right now? Josh, I don't know what the fuck happened to your album, but you're sure as hell not coming over to the house. That is not your place anymore, and you're very much not welcome there."

"Why can't we be adults about this?"

"You lost the right to being adult about this the second you decided to cheat on me! And how dare you say that shit, but then come down to my place of work to try and, what, harass me into letting you back into my home? We're over, Josh. I don't ever want to see you again. If I find any of your shit left at the house, I'll drop it in the trash."

"What seems to be the problem here?"

I suppressed the urge to groan again. As if things couldn't get any more complicated.

"No problem, Mr. Afton," I said, turning to face William with the best, innocent smile I could muster. "Just an...unwelcome guest."

William looked at me for a moment before letting his eyes wander to Josh. I didn't have to say much else for him to recognize who the "unwelcome guest" was and I could see anger in his eyes.

"Well, time to get back to work, (Y/N)," he said to me. "Your customers are waiting."

I nodded and ducked away from the situation. As I walked away, Josh called after me, "That's fine, I'll be waiting for you to get off! We can talk more then!"

"Like hell you will."

A collective gasp from the parents and Beth cause me to spin around to see William had grabbed hold of the collar of Josh's shirt. William was easily a head taller than Josh, so even if the act wasn't meant to be intimidating, he definitely looked intimidating. I don't think I've ever seen such fear on Josh's face. William turned Josh around and basically dragged him towards the front door.

"If I see you back here, I will have your ass arrested," he said as he threw Josh out of the restaurant. "Are we clear, punk?"

He didn't wait for a response as he pulled the door shut. I could see Josh standing there, a mixture of fear and confusion on his face. William re-entered the main area, still looking angry, but tried to put on his best customer service smile as he addressed his new crowd. "Sorry everyone. Just an unruly customer. Sorry for any trouble."

To me he added, "Come see me in my office, please."

Beth and I exchanged a look before I followed William towards his office. I was so sure he was going to get upset with me. Not only had I brought my personal shit to the restaurant (even though that wasn't my fault), but it had also resulted in a not so great scene in front of the customers. People get to talking, and I was sure that this story was going to be spread through town before the night was out.

The moment I stepped into his office, I set in on the apologies. "Mr. Afton, I'm so sorry about that. I had no idea he was coming. I've been trying to avoid him while he's moving his stuff out and I guess he was getting tired of that or wanted to poke me one last time or something - "

"Did he hurt you?"

I paused my rambling to look up at him. All anger was gone from his face and had instead been replaced by concern.

"What?" I asked.

"Did he do anything to you just then?"

I shrugged. "Not physically. He was definitely still trying to mess with me mentally, though."

William nodded. "Well, he's not welcome on the property anymore. If you see him, you have my full permission to contact the police immediately."

"I...I don't think that's entirely necessary."

"I don't mean to sound like an old man or anything, but I've met plenty of assholes like your ex, (Y/N). You give them an inch and they take a mile. If you don't deal with this now, he will continue to come back and harass you. I don't want that for you. You don't deserve that."

I opened my mouth to say something else, but nothing came out. I was realizing how close we were now. We were mere inches away from one another. If I wanted to, I could just reach out and touch him right now; grab him. I could've kissed him right then and there if I really wanted to. Who would've known?

As if reading my mind, William suddenly reached out and cupped my face. Before I could comprehend what was happening, his lips were on mine. It was kind of ironic, the fact that I had just been thinking about doing this exact thing, but now that it was happening it was like my brain wasn't sure how to comprehend the situation.

William pulled away just as quickly as he had initiated the kiss. He backed away from me, suddenly worried. "I'm so sorry. I...I don't know what came over me. I shouldn't have done that."

In response, I pretty well threw myself at him. I wrapped my arms around him and kissed him with such force that it pushed him back into his desk. He positioned himself so that he was sat on his desk and basically pulled me into his lap. It was risky, anyone could've come by and caught us, but something about that just made the experience so much better; so much hotter.

William pulled away first again. I tried to chase his lips with mine, but he pushed me back, chuckling at my eagerness.

"Hold on," he said. "There's some things we have to discuss before this goes any further."

"Please don't tell me you're married," I said.

He laughed. "No, I'm not married. Divorced with a 10 year old daughter. That was the first thing I wanted to discuss, in case single dad is a dealbreaker."

"Very much not a dealbreaker."

"So...the age thing is also not a dealbreaker then?"

I shook my head. "If anything, I think that makes it kinda hotter."

A grin spread on his face. "Okay, I'll keep that in mind. But there is the big issue of the fact that I'm your boss."

It felt like I had been shoved off of cloud nine and come crashing down to earth. For a moment, I had forgotten that part. He was right, that was the biggest issue here. Kind of hard to get around it unless I ended up quitting, which I really did not want to do. It was nearly impossible to find a good paying job these days, and I needed this now more than ever since Josh wasn't going to be splitting rent with me anymore.

I climbed off of William's lap and stood across from him. "I guess...that is a big issue, huh?"

"I just don't want you to feel pressured into anything, and I don't want anyone to look at you any different because you're dating the boss."

I raised a playful eyebrow at him. "You jumped to dating pretty quickly there."

His smile was a little more bashful. "What can I say? I'm old school. I don't believe in hooking up or anything like that. If there's anything going on here, I want you to be able to classify it as a relationship."

In that moment, I found myself wondering why I hadn't always dated older men. I had wasted so much of my time on guys my age when I could've been dating someone who was actually a gentleman and cared about me and my feelings.

"Why don't we see where things go with this, and then we can tackle that big elephant in the room?" I asked.

"I think I can agree to that."

I took a step closer and said, "I really want to kiss you again, though."

He laughed and met me halfway, standing from his desk and taking my face in his hands again. When he kissed me, I felt like I was flying right back on to cloud nine.

[mosaickiwi]

Little "Love" Notes

Angel should really tell someone if they think somebody’s breaking in but instead they do… this? For some reason.

very good idea

14 Days With You is an 18+ Yandere Visual Novel. MINORS DNI

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

Quiet and quick as could be, [REDACTED] slowly opened your window by the fire escape. He climbed in carefully, a little astonished that you still weren’t bothering to lock it after all these months. Their boots hardly made a sound as he took practiced steps over the hardwood floor of your apartment and headed straight to the kitchen. He didn’t need to see to know which floorboards would creak or groan underfoot.

Just as they expected, the usual sight that had him even more excited to go on his now almost nightly break-ins was there to greet him. A handful of hastily scrawled, bright pink sticky notes were slapped across various surfaces.

At some point or another you'd gotten sick of things going missing. Sure, most of them turned up after a while—and always right where you thought you'd left them—but even still it annoyed you. So you started leaving silly messages for your supposed burglar. He chose to read them as love notes.

“Don't take anything in here you BITCH I'll be so mad!!” screamed one from its place on a kitchen cabinet. Your writing there was a little illegible from how fast you surely wrote it, but he found it endearing.

Another, on the side of some faded plastic-ware read, “I made these cookies for a friend but a lot of them came out wrong. You may have the burnt ones.”

“Give that ugly red shirt back it doesn't belong to me.” That was the last one he could find in the room for now, left on top of the counter next to the notepad and pen you always used.

As much as he wished to, the hacker usually didn’t respond for fear of confirming your needless worries. They'd never want to harm you like a real burglar. But he always followed the instructions when he could. And he could do some of those tonight.

Since you'd so nicely asked, he left the bottom cabinet alone. They already knew what you kept in there anyway. He wouldn’t tell a soul.

He took a few burnt cookies out of the container left on the counter—not enough that you'd notice. Some to eat once he left, and one to keep. It was another thing you offered up to him, after all. 

But the sorry excuse of a shirt that your (worst) childhood friend had left behind was long gone. [REDACTED] had already given it a much needed vacation to the bottom of Lake Bluemoss, along with some other items that Leon had dared to leave among your belongings.

With the notes in the kitchen mostly taken care of, he set off towards your laundry closet. Only to find the small sliding door in the hallway closed shut with a note of its own smack dab in the middle. 

“Please don't take my comfy clothes anymore :c I know you always give them back but it'll be getting cold soon!! You don’t want me freezing in the middle of the night, do you? Won't you forgive me? Pretty please? ♥ ♥”

Mind going a mile a minute, [REDACTED] had to read your beautiful handwriting again and again as if decoding a different language. Those tiny, black inked hearts at the end of the note were all he could understand in the moment. Your sweetly written, pleading love letter finally sunk in once he managed to shake away the haze you’d unknowingly swept him into.

This one was a risk that he was willing to take. Of course they wanted you to be comfortable. He gently peeled the note off so it wouldn’t tear, and folded it away to tuck into his jeans.

Then, the dark haired man began to tug his favorite hoodie up and over his shoulders.

💜🖤💜🖤💜🖤

You lazily pulled the folding door open in search of a blanket. It was just a little bit colder for some reason when you woke up this morning, so you needed something to keep you cozy while you waited for Violet to come over later that afternoon. You reached up to the middle shelf where you normally kept extra blankets, but something just below it caught your eye.

A huge, black hoodie sat folded on top of the pile of clean towels you forgot to take care of days ago.

You didn't recognize it, but it had to belong to one of your friends, right? They all formed a habit of leaving stuff with you once you moved back to town. Jae still hadn’t picked up the roller skates he got for Maple—they were only used the one time.

Ignoring the blanket you meant to grab, you picked up the hoodie and slipped it on. The giant thing practically swallowed you, sleeves enveloping your hands and the hem falling well past your hips. The garish horror design that decorated its front didn't seem to be anything your friends were into, either.

But it was warmer than you thought possible. Plus, it smelled nice, like cherries and a little familiar comfort of something you couldn't place. Whoever it belonged to surely wouldn't mind if you kept it for a while.

You didn't bother to spare it another thought and hurried off to check the kitchen. Hopefully the cookies you'd painstakingly baked yesterday were still there.

[vixstarria]

Mark me as yours

This takes place immediately after and is interlinked with 'Missionary with the lights off' but from Astarion's rather than Tav's POV - check it out if you haven't already, the fics complement each other.

Soft sassy Astarion, F!Tav, Gale, minor appearances by other origin characters, Astarion POV

Fluff, humour, banter, pining, non-explicit sexual references

A day in camp in the life of Astarion. Features brooding, sewing, doing laundry, being dramatic, engaging in improper use of archmage of Waterdeep, reading erotica, and more!

Approx. 2,000 words

AO3

You frowned at the stuffed bear you held in your hands, weighing up your desire to showcase your skills against the absurdity of the task at hand.  

The whole thing was coming apart and needed to be washed and restuffed if you were to do this properly. What was inside, anyway? Fur..? You supposed you could go hunt something furry. Or maybe save yourself the time and just give Scratch a quick partial shave, he wouldn’t mind – the mutt lying at your feet was stupid enough to like you. To prefer you over anyone else, in fact.  

You reached down to give him a fond, absentminded pet.  

And then there was the matter of not letting it burn to a crisp the moment Karlach touched it. 

“Is there a flame ward enchantment on this..? Can you reapply it?” you asked Gale, who was nearby at his usual spot by the fire, concocting something edible for the rest of your group. 

“There is and I sure can,” he replied.  

Great. You had gotten yourself into a group project with the wizard to rescue a teddy bear.  

“Don’t tell me this is what Wyll was so concerned about earlier...” Tav had finally made it out of your tent and sat down next to you, looking somewhat less disheveled than how you’d left her.  

“The bag of holding finally tore. Naturally I was the only one competent enough to fix it.” 

You gestured with your thumb towards a towering pile of assorted crap that Wyll and Lae’zel were still sifting through: Lae’zel inspecting and setting aside any weapons and armour she deemed worth keeping, and Wyll sorting through an array of scrolls and potions no one was ever going to use, or would forget were in your possession if the need for them ever did arise.  

“Darling, this is your fault, you know,” you added. “Must you pick up everything?” 

“Karlach made me do it. Also I don’t know what you’re talking about, I am prudence and sensibility personified,” she said. 

“You’re uh... You’re also bleeding,” Gale said, pointing at her neck. 

A trail of blood had started running down from the puncture wounds, which must have reopened.  

Shit. 

Before you could reason yourself out of it, your instincts kicked in and you pressed your mouth against her neck, licking the blood off. By the gods, she actually leaned into you as you did that, not away. You glimpsed a guilty, sheepish smile she threw at Gale, as you pulled away.  

“Idiot... Here, apply pressure, I’ll get the amulet,” you said. 

“I’m the idiot?! You’re the one who ran off to resolve a sewing emergency, like a good little seamstress, before sorting me out!” 

You strode over to your tent, in part to grab the amulet of Silvanus, in part to discreetly tuck away the erection that had immediately started developing as soon as you tasted her blood.  

Hells, am I 239 or 15? you thought, annoyed with yourself.  

“An amulet? I was wondering why you’d stopped visiting me in the mornings...” you heard from Shadowheart. 

“We have a system,” Tav replied.  

“Clearly,” laughed Shadowheart. 

A scene from the night sprung up in your mind as you went about your day: 

She’d fallen asleep on your shoulder, half lying on you, her nose buried in your neck.  

It was... nice. Really nice. And you didn’t think this bizarre scenario would ever happen again.  

And yet, pleasant as it was, she still felt too far. You needed to feel her closer. Perhaps you were being greedy, but after all these years, why should you get anything less than exactly what you wanted? 

Carefully, very carefully lest she stir awake and leave, you rolled over onto your side, holding her against you.

She was still asleep. Good...   

You cautiously slipped lower and lower until your head was at her chest, delicately wrapping your arms around her torso. 

Then she stirred.  

Shit. 

Without waking, she sighed, drawing you into a tight embrace, clutching you against her chest, complete with throwing a leg over your hips to pull you even closer. 

You finally relaxed, your arms wrapped around her waist. 

Perfect... 

She felt so warm... She smelled of comfort. 

You could indulge in this for the night. You would wake up before she did anyway.  

You drifted away, lulled by the beating of her heart. 

You didn’t have any nightmares that night.  

“Is your boyfriend coming?” you heard Karlach somewhere in the distance.  

You cringed at the juvenile term. Still, you were curious how she would answer.  

“He’s on laundry duty,” she responded. “Just us gals today.” 

“So your idea of doing washing is to pawn everything off to me,” said Gale. 

“Vampires and running water, remember,” you said. “Also you don’t look like you’re exerting an awfully large amount of effort yourself... Although I must admit, this is ingenious.” A little flattery wouldn’t hurt.

Gale sat at a riverbank at a deeper section of the river. Some sheets and clothing were being tossed and spun in a small bubbling whirlpool within the water, together with foaming slivers of soap. 

“Surely few archmages possess such finesse and creativity?” you continued. 

Gale sighed and motioned for you to throw your bundle in as well, expanding the whirlpool.  

“Just toss your shirt in too, it's splattered with blood,” Gale added wearily.  

Her scent lingered on it. The last thing you wanted was to wash it off.

You pulled the shirt over your head and hurled it into the whirlpool.  

“Not Tav’s creative nailwork, I presume..?” Gale asked with a wince, looking at your back.  

“Nope” was all you said, as you pulled a book out from your pocket, making yourself comfortable on the bank. To his credit, the wizard did not probe further. 

‘Mark me as yours’ 

Those words had been echoing in your mind over and over all day.  

It couldn’t have meant anything.  

A little expression of some vampire fetishism finally poking through – you shouldn’t have expected any different from her, she did offer you her blood consistently, not even asking for anything in return.  

Still, you’d felt like something inside you might burst from your desire and thrill when you heard those words.   

And then everything that followed after... 

You had actually lost yourself for a short while. Not dissociated and detached. Lost yourself. In bliss. In the scent of her skin, in the sounds of her need for you, in the sensation of her blood merging with yours and flowing through your veins. 

And now she was walking around somewhere, with telltale bitemarks on her neck for all the world to see. Scandalous... 

No, it couldn’t have meant anything.  

‘Mark me as yours’ 

Still... What a pleasant little fantasy... 

‘Yours’ 

“You’ve been smiling at that page for ten minutes straight now,” Gale’s voice snapped you out of your musings.  

“It’s my favourite page,” you retorted. 

“What’s it about?” he asked snidely after a short pause.  

“I have no idea,” you confessed, begrudgingly, snapping the book shut. If the wizard knew what was best for him, he would abstain from any further comments.  

“She’s quite fond of you,” Gale said sombrely after another pause.  

“Is this about to turn into one of those ‘You break her heart – I'll break your face’ talks?” you scoffed, rolling your eyes. 

“Oh gods no,” Gale laughed. "No, I would go straight to incineration... You just strike me as the type that needs to have the obvious spelled out for them.” 

“I am not entering this type of discourse with someone who’s presently washing my spend off my bed sheets,” you said, laying back and shutting your eyes, to bask in the sun. No answer followed. 

Not even a minute had passed when a shadow fell over you.  

Odd, you thought. There hadn’t been a single cloud in the sky. 

You opened your eyes to see a giant water bubble hovering a few meters above you. Was that... a bedsheet floating in the middle..? 

Worth it, you thought just as the undulating bubble spilt and crashed over you.  

You coughed and spat, trying to untangle yourself from the sheet, as the unleashed torrent nearly swept you off the bank. And yet, above all else, you found yourself curious. 

The water had no longer been running as part of the river, true, but given its sheer volume and the velocity at which it hit you, it should have hurt more than merely your pride.  

You made it to the edge of the bank, and cautiously dipped a finger in.

Nothing...

You proceeded to submerge your hand, then your entire forearm, to your elbow. 

Nothing.  

Of all things... Why this? Why not your reflection? Why not the blood craving? Oh well. Beggars, choosers... 

You were laughing.  

“This tadpole,” you turned and shouted at Gale, unabashedly stripping yourself of your pants, as Gale turned away, muttering something about going blind, “is the best thing that’s happened to me in centuries!” 

The best? Maybe second best? It had some tight competition, but you supposed nothing would have been possible without it, so it reigned supreme. 

You leaped into the river, diving and letting the gentle current carry you downstream for a while.  

You knew what you would be doing later that evening with her.  

“What have you got there?”  

She slid onto your lap like a cat that refused to take ‘no’ for an answer as it sought attention. You had been idling away your time by your tent, with some pulp you had picked up earlier. The rest of the group had been drinking and roasting something at the campfire.  

“Trash. Disappointingly boring trash, this time,” you answered. 

“No pulsating flesh tunnels in this one?” 

“Alas... There were not one but two mentions of ‘velvet-wrapped steel’ however, and plenty of ‘sword-sheathing’.” 

“To the hilt?” 

“Is there any other way?” 

“Wouldn’t want to sheathe it only partially, I suppose...” she mused. “Come join us. We found some half-decent wine. And you don’t have to be alone all the time, you know.” 

“Spare me, I’ve had enough of Gale’s lectures and Wyll’s tales for the day. And besides, ugh, all those chewing noises!” You made a gagging sound. 

None of them want me there. 

“Oh don’t be such a delicate princess,” she rolled her eyes. “How’s this: it’s our joint meal time. It would be rude and completely unfair to exclude anyone. You should sit down with everyone, bite down on my wrist and make a great deal of slurping.” 

“You can’t be serious.” 

Delightful. Simply delightful. 

“It will be funny!” 

“I fear you might be the only one laughing, darling.” 

That is hilarious, I can just imagine Gale squealing or getting sick. 

“Is there anyone else you’d care to make laugh?” she asked with a slight upturn of her lips. 

Not in the least. 

“I could die again knowing I have accomplished something if I ever make Lae’zel laugh. But perish the thought – I am perfectly happy right here with my literature.” 

“Well, if you don’t want to join the group, perhaps I will stay and you can...” She snatched the book from your hands and tossed it aside, leaning in and bringing her lips up to your ear. “...Release your kraken in my field of rose petals,” she purred in a sultry voice. 

“Stop,” you choked back a snicker.  

“Get tangled up in my beef curtains?” she continued with the same tone. 

“You’re disgusting.” 

“Sink your meat shaft in my cream tart!” she persevered.  

“By the gods, woman, I am never having sex with your again.” 

“Suckle the nectar from my weeping core!” 

“Alright, fine, I’ll go, anything is better than this.” You got up, pushing her off your lap. 

“Taste my forbidden, oozing fruit, Astarion!” she cried out from the ground behind you as you covered your ears and shouted “LALALALA”, making your way towards the campfire. 

You would endure the prattle of your companions.  

Then you would take her for a moonlit swim in the river.  

Then you would see if she might spend the whole night in your arms again.  

Perhaps she could sleep in your shirt and leave her scent on it again – it was foolish to sleep completely in the nude out in the wild after all, what if there were intruders? 

Everything was going according to plan, you reminded yourself.  

~~~~~

Next in series - Down by the river

Series master list

AO3

Tags: @littleenglishfangirl @something-pithy @darlingxdragon @tallymonster @tragedybunny

Also @spacebarbarianweird - you haven't asked for a tag but sounded interested

[justpeaxchy]

I heard you accepted opinions than httyd, could I ask for one? maybe a headcanoon about Hiccup x reader, maybe "how Hiccup would show love to the reader or what would happen if he was jealous", thank you for considering it.

Warnings(?): Hiccup is a lil jealous. A/n: thank you for the request <3! I hope I brought what you were asking for with the headcanons! (I feel like it's a bit short, but here you go! Notes: takes place after httyd 2 and before the plot of httyd 3.

Jealousy has a sword

First off, Hiccup wouldn't be one to get jealous that quickly, although he is protective and such, he trusts you to know that you won't do anything that'll purposefully hurt him in that way.

This doesn't mean he can ignore the pricking feelings of jealousy whenever someone or something else is taking up a lot of your time - more than usual.

He has a habit of checking on you throughout the day, even if his schedule is brimmed with chiefly duties, it's his desire to make sure you're just overall okay. So when he finds himself being more occupied throughout the day and gets the word that you're spending your time with other people, he feels somewhat guilty that he can't be that person who's giving you some attention.

Then the jealousy kicks in.

Especially if it's Eret; he trusts the guy now but he isn't dumb - almost everyone says he is extremely handsome and well-built. He knows you wouldn't do anything with him but he just doesn't like it if he's the one who's with you the most throughout your daily tasks.

"So, how was your day?" He'd ask. You hummed, embracing him into a warm hug that he initiated. "It was nice. I got to go on patrol with Astrid, help put out a couple of fires - again - and, oh, Eret helped me a bit with my sword fighting. After that I was in-"

"Wait, wait, wait. You said who helped you out?" Hiccup slightly broke out of the hug to look at you as you questioningly gazed back at him.

"Uhm, Eret?" You remained still in your spot as you watched him deeply sigh, his head turning towards the ground, allowing his hair to barely brush against your face. "Is ... something the matter..?"

Hiccup shook his head, his hair tickling your nose in the slightest, as he lifted his eyes to meet yours while he spoke hesitantly: "N-no, I just-" he sighed once again as he stared at you, fumbling over his words. As though he had given up on speaking, he gently pulled you closer, allowing your lips to meet. The kiss held an earnestness and passion that was disguised by the delicate way he handled you. He took his time pulling away from you, only doing it because of the necessary oxygen you both needed while he took in every detail on your face.

"Nothing's wrong.. I suppose.. but you do know that you can always come to me for that kind of stuff, right?" He leaned his forehead against yours, auburn hair mixing with yours at the touch.

You were flustered at his response, fighting against the temptation to stutter in your speech; "Yeah, I know... but you're more busy now and I wouldn't want to make you feel more stressed or anything-"

Hiccup was quick to interrupt you as he shut down your statement: "No. You wouldn't be doing anything bad to me if you came and asked for my help in something. I want you to do that." His answer seemed to be more urgent than he wanted, making him clear his throat from the embarrassment that began to creep upon him, "W-when you're a available, that is.." He let out a breath that looked as though he were exhaling all negative feelings away. "Y'know what, I'm making a new plan. From now on, we'll meet every day to better improve your sword techniques. Sound good?"

You were shocked, to say the least, by his answer. It took a lot of convincing to tell him that it shouldn't be every single day this happens, for the sake of his schedule and the things he has to do on certain occasions. He's the Chief now, not a teenage kid running away from his problems anymore - which made him a little bit sour when he thought about it.

In the end, after practicing your sword fighting every other day, he just went right back into doing it everyday instead. Even moreso after Snotlout had tried to spar with you. Hiccup felt more "entitled" to do that specific activity with you - for some odd reason.

(He just really likes to do this with you, especially with Inferno.)

"Hiccup, it's not like we don't see each other everyday as it is-"

"Shush. We're gonna meet everyday and work on this. It's for your benefit anyways. "

He definitely feels like it's one of the ways he can show his love for you, if not the most important one: by giving you his time.

(That's why he's so protective over being the person that helps you with your sword fighting.)

----------------------------------------------

[munsonsmixtapes]

Breakup

Eddie Diaz x fem!reader

summary: Eddie knows you have a boyfriend, but he’s going to do everything in his power to get you to break up with him

Very heavily inspired by “Breakup” by Ashton Irwin

This take place during the beginning of season two

Eddie speaks a little bit of Spanish and I used a translator, so I apologize if any of it is inaccurate!

cw: MDNI (18+) smut (p in v) unprotected sex (please don’t do this) fingering, miscommunication, emotional cheating

Eddie was the first to admit that he always wanted what he couldn't have. When he was a kid, it always seemed like the other kids had the cooler toys and clothes and Eddie always felt jealous of them. Even as an adult, there were still things that he wanted that belonged to other people. He just never though that one of those things would have been a person.

The second Eddie laid eyes on you, he knew he was a goner. You flashed that million dollar smile at him at the park when you first met and he swore that his knees were going to give out and he clutched onto the jungle gym that was next to him for support.

The first time you saw each other was at the park when his son, Christopher had fallen off one of the swings and you had rushed to help him up, and when Eddie had gotten there, you had already taken care of it by patching the boy up with a bandaid.

Of course, people were always nice to his son, but you took care of him with such gentleness that it warmed Eddie’s heart. He had to know the name of the woman who single-handedly saved his son from potentially breaking a bone.

As a way to thank you, he invited you and your niece who you had been watching for the day out for ice cream and you both gratefully accepted. You, wanting to get to know the pretty stranger and Caroline just wanting ice cream.

“So, Eddie, what do you do?” You asked him as you both stood in line, waiting for your turn.

“I’m a firefighter.” You didn’t like the images flashing in your brain at his words. Of him showing up at your door in uniform, assuring you that he’d put out the fire and you both knew exactly what he was referring to. And you’d press your lips to his, pulling him inside with the intention of having your way with him.

“Wow, that’s really amazing. You save lives for a living.”

“I mean, technically yes. And what do you do?” He asked, pulling you out of your thoughts and you didn’t know why you were suddenly paranoid that he could read your mind. Your thoughts were perfectly safe there and you could think any dirty thing about him and he’d never know.

“I’m a teacher.” That made a lot of sense in Eddie’s mind and the idea of seeing you with your class was an adorable thought.

“Oh, what grade?”

“Kindergarten.” Eddie thought seemed like the perfect job for you despite only knowing you for about an hour. Just by seeing you take care of Christopher, he could tell that you were a natural with children.

“I can see that,” he nodded in response as you both shuffled forward as you got closest to the register.

“What do you mean?” You wanted to know exactly what he had meant by that.

“Just, the way you were so quick to help Christopher. It makes sense that your career would be based around children.” That warmed your heart hearing those words. You had wanted to be a teacher even when you were a small child and hard worked hard to get exactly where you were. So whenever anyone had complimented you in that area, it showed you that you were exactly where you were supposed to be.

“Well, thank you.”

You both ordered your ice cream and Eddie had insisted on paying for yours even though you tried to tell him that you could pay for your own.

The four of you sat at a table by the door and you watched your niece joke around with Christopher and it warmed your heart since you knew that it was always hard for her to make friends. And Christopher was a sweet boy so you knew that they would make the best of friends, hoping that her mother would be okay with them having a playdate. Because you wanted Claire to have a friend and totally not because you wanted an excuse to see Eddie again.

Once everyone was done with their ice cream, the two of you headed to your vehicles after having exchanging numbers with the sole intention of setting up the playdate and neither of you were debating asking the other to meet up again without the children. Totally not.

The second time you ran into Eddie was at the gym. He had just so happened to be lifting weights in the area that was right across from you, giving you the perfect view of him doing some bicep curls. Whether he was doing it to impress your or not, you didn't know. He was, but he would have told you that he wasn't.

You couldn’t help yourself. Before you could stop it, you were turning off the treadmill and making your way over to him. It was as if you were magnets that were always being pulled towards each other and you hardly minded.

"Hey," you greeted and Eddie was so close to dropping one of the weights on his foot at the sound of your voice, but he caught it in just the knick of time.

"Oh, hi," he said, turning around to face you, placing the weights back on the shelf so he wouldn't risk any injuries. There was no telling what would have happened as long as you were around.

"I didn't know you were a member here," you said as you leaned on the rack and Eddie had to stop himself from letting his eyes rake over your sweaty body, finding himself wanting to lick up every last drop.

"Just joined the other day," he smiled. "Guess it's fate," he gave you a wink and you felt like he was purposely trying to fluster you.

"Guess so," you winked back. "Well, I'll let you get back to your workout. It was nice seeing you again, Eddie." You turned to leave, but Eddie couldn’t let you go so soon.

“Wait!” He called after you and you turned around. “Do you think you could spot me?” He asked, nodding his head towards the bench that had the large weight with the plates on each end and you nodded enthusiastically, willing to do almost anything as an excuse to be around him for longer.

“Sure,” you responded and followed him to the bench. Eddie laid down on it and grabbed hold of the weight, lifting it off of the thing holding it.

He pulled it to his chest and lifted it up and down and you had no trouble watching him, seeing his biceps that were shining in sweat flex making you feel wet between your legs. Making your cheeks go hot. You really couldn’t be thinking that way about him, you really couldn’t. Not when you had a boyfriend.

But you just liked that someone was actually paying attention to you. That for once someone was treating you the way you deserved. And you weren’t going to do anything with Eddie, you just liked that he was nice to you. What was the harm in making a friend?

Eddie turned his head to look at you just for a split second, but he got distracted by you getting down on your knees to tie your shoe. It gave him a perfect opportunity to look at your cleavage that had been caused by your sports bra pushing your tits up.

His distraction caused him to lean a little to the right to get a better look and he ended up almost falling off of the bench, but you were quick to catch him and push him back onto the bench with no problem.

“Oh my god are you okay?”

“I’m good, I’m good,” he nodded.

“What happened?” There was no way in hell he was telling you the truth.

“I don’t know, I just lost the grip of it, but I’m good, I promise.”

“Why don’t we put this up?” You asked and the two of you put the weight back where he belonged and you helped him his feet.

“I-I think I should probably go,” he jerked his thumb towards the exit. He had to get out of there before he hurt himself, or worse, someone else. He couldn’t imagine having his coworkers coming to respond to a call because he couldn’t keep his hormones in check.

“I agree. Get some rest. I’ll see you around, Eddie.”

“Yeah, see you,” he gave you a little wave. God, he was so far gone and didn’t even notice.

With that, you turned on your heel and headed back over to your treadmill and Eddie watched you as you bent down to grab your water bottle, giving him a great view of your ass. The ass that he wanted to grab, giving it a tight squeeze as you let out a yelp.

The third time you ran into each other at the grocery store, Eddie was convinced that it was fate. He saw you in the produce section looking at the containers of strawberries, turning them every which way to make sure that they were all good.

Eddie had every intention of asking you out in that moment, but you turned behind you and waved someone over. A man approached you and you showed him the strawberries and he took them before smiling down at you, pressing a kiss to your lips.

You had a boyfriend. You had a boyfriend and had let Eddie shamelessly flirt with you without even a mention of the man you were in a relationship with. He had been convinced that there was something between the two of you, but clearly there wasn’t.

He backed away so you wouldn’t see him, but couldn’t take his eyes off of you and the man with your lips attached. He backed up so much as he ran into a table that had been stacked with oranges, causing them all to fall to the floor in an avalanche, taking Eddie with it.

You and the man with you turned to see what the cause of the loud crash was and you rushed over, only to see Eddie lying amongst the oranges, groaning in pain.

“Eddie!” You called out and rushed over to him. “Honey, help me get him to his feet.” Both you and your boyfriend helped Eddie to his feet and the man felt like it was his own personal hell.

"Are you okay, man?" Your boyfriend asked as he gave Eddie's back a pat.

"I'm good," Eddie nodded. "I'm good." He was feeling a little lightheaded, but he just needed to get out of there as soon as possible. You looked at his face for any sign of discomfort, but all he could do was look back and forth between you and the man, wondering why you hadn't told him about the guy.

Was it because you were ashamed of him, knowing that he couldn't please you the way that Eddie definitely could? Or was it just because you really didn't owe Eddie anything because all you had been was friendly?

"Well, I'm glad," you smiled. "Oh, Eddie, this is my boyfriend, Mark." You grabbed onto the man's arm and Eddie felt his blood boil. What the fuck kind of name was Mark? And he wasn't even attractive. Okay, maybe he was. Maybe a little too much to the point where Eddie was questioning things about himself.

Mark had dark brown almost black hair, pale skin, and bright blue eyes. The exact opposite of Eddie in every way looks wise and he didn't like just how beautiful he thought the man was.

Eddie put his hand out for Mark to shake, but Mark just stuffed his hands into the pockets of his jeans. Oh, so you hadn't introduced the two of them because Mark was an asshole. Now Eddie understood and he didn't think he could fault you for that.

Mark just stared at Eddie with a glare and wondered how you knew the guy. You hadn't mentioned an Eddie and he had met all the teachers at your school at all of the events he had gone to with you, so he definitely wasn't a coworker. And Mark couldn't have cared less that you were friend with men, he just didn't like that you had kept Eddie a secret from him.

"Nice to meet you," Eddie smiled awkwardly as Mark just stood there, not saying a damn word. Eddie then glanced at you and you nudged Mark as if to tell him to say something but he didn't. He had never behaved that way and you wondered what was causing to not want to speak to your friend and you had every intention of calling him out for it as soon as the two of you were alone.

“I know you,” Mark pointed at him. “You’re a firefighter, right?”

“Yep.”

“Well, isn’t that cute?” Yeah, this guy was definitely an ass and Eddie was a few seconds from putting him in his place.

“Excuse me?” Eddie asked, crossing his arms over his chest. He was going to say he was a hero or anything, but he didn’t think his job was “cute” by any means. It was hard work and every single day, people’s lives were at stake and he did his best to help save them.

“Running around helping people with their little issues, it’s cute.”

“Little issues?” You asked before Eddie could speak. “Eddie responds to emergencies. He saves lives everyday.”

“And so do I.” Sure, what Mark did certainly wasn’t an easy job, but how was that in any way comparable to being a firefighter? They were two very different things.

“You’re a personal trainer.” Eddie loved seeing you stand up for him, but he almost felt like he shouldn’t have been listening to your argument.

“Exactly.”

"Well, Eddie, we should probably go. It was nice running into you and I hope that fall didn't hurt you too bad."

"Well, thank you and it was nice running into you too." You grabbed Mark by the arm and pulled him back over to your cart. Eddie knew he should have left, but he couldn't help but watch the two of you argue in hushed tones.

You couldn't believe that he had embarrassed you like that in front of Eddie of all people. The two of you had gotten friendly and now he wasn't going to want to talk to you anymore because your boyfriend was a jerk to him. Just your fucking luck.

You rested your hands on the cart and took a deep breath as you felt Mark stand behind you, resting his hands on your waist as he leaned down and pressed his lips to your temple. You turned around in his arms and and pushed his hands off of you as you glared at him.

"What the fuck was that about?" You whispered and Mark only rolled his eyes.

“I just didn’t want to shake his hand. What’s the big deal?” You moved to the handles of the cart and turned it to head towards the check out even though you hadn’t finished your shopping. You just wanted to get out of there and take Mark home so you didn’t have to see his face for a while.

“You didn’t just not shake his hand, Mark,” you corrected him. “You insulted him to his face. You embarrassed him.”

“Whatever, y/n. You seemed quick to stand up for him too.”

You pulled your cart over to the self check out and began scanning your items, shaking your head at the man next to you. Your relationship was already fizzling out and you were beginning to think that the whole situation was the final nail in the coffin.

Mark was as sweet as could be when you met him but as time went on, he had let the city take over his personality and he had turned into nothing but an LA man, suddenly becoming very obsessed with his health and getting spray tans whenever he could, which there wasn’t anything necessarily wrong with either of those things, but it seemed like those were only two things he ever wanted to talk about.

And now he was just like every other LA douchebag and the urge to breakup with him was strong and if he was going to treat your friends like garbage, then maybe it was best if things just ended.

“You know what?” You asked as you finishing paying and all of your groceries were in the cart.

“What?” He spit, turning to face you and the fact that he was angry was starting to piss you off.

“Maybe it would be best if we just didn’t see each other anymore.” Maybe the grocery store wasn’t the best place to break up with someone, but you just had to rip the band aid off already.

“Baby, no,” he whined and you were all for a man being all pathetic for you, but not in that way. He was behaving like one of your students.

“Yes,” you nodded. “It was a long time coming and you know it. You don’t want to be with me anymore. I see the way you look at other women, Mark. That’s not the way you look at me anymore. So, I’m gonna go.”

“Fine,” he scoffed. “Why don’t you catch a ride with your little side piece?” Side piece? You hadn’t done anything with Eddie except be friendly. If Mark interpreted it any other way, that was on him. If anything, he was the one who was most likely cheating.

“Maybe I will.” You grabbed your cart and stomped out of the store to see Eddie getting into his truck. You raced towards him and parked your cart behind his truck so he couldn’t leave. He shut the door to make his way towards you and the sun shining down on your face gave him a perfect view of the anger on your face.

You felt like you should have been crying because of your breakup, but all you were was mad. You were so angry at Mark for treating Eddie the way he did and for brushing it off like he didn’t do anything wrong. You were mad at yourself for staying with him for so long when he had treated you like nothing but garbage. You had put up with that shit the entire six months of your relationship, but now you were free.

“Don’t ask why, but do you think you could drive me home?” You asked and Eddie nodded furiously. He was afraid that he’d find a way to give you the moon if you had asked for it. He was always so down bad for you that he didn’t know how to be around you without telling you how he felt.

“Yeah,” he nodded. “Of course.” He helped you put your groceries in the spot behind the front bench then helped you get in on your side before heading to his own.

He started up the truck and you felt the need to apologize to him for what Mark had said about his career. What he did was admirable and you felt like he needed to know that. To know just how important his job was.

“I’m sorry for what he said,” you apologized and Eddie just shook his head.

“No need to be sorry. You weren’t the one who said it. And you stuck up for me. That means more to me than an apology.” He turned to you with a smile before turning back to the road. “Now where do you live?”

You gave him your address and you two spent the car ride talking about everything and nothing like old friends, your now ex boyfriend completely forgotten for your potential new one if you played your cards right.

Eddie was nothing like Mark. He was sweet and kind and funny and he actually cared for you. Something that Mark hadn’t done in a long time. Just in the three times you had talked to Eddie, he actually seemed interested in what you had to say and he didn’t pull his phone out of his pocket to scroll through it as if you hadn’t even mattered.

Eddie’s truck pulled into your driveway, but you couldn’t say goodbye. Not yet. Not when you both were having such a good time. It was a nice day and you felt like the both of you should have enjoyed it. So, you both got out of the truck and you pulled him down the path to the lake that was behind your house.

Eddie blindly followed you like a lost puppy and didn’t even care where he was going as long as it was with you. You could have been pulling him to a spot where you were going to kill him and he hardly minded. As long as he was with you, he didn’t care about a damn thing.

You pulled him to a lake and continued to walk until you go to the short dock that led to where the water was just the right height for swimming. He looked around and wondered why you had taken him there when you had groceries to put away, but he sure as hell wasn’t going to question it.

“Where are we?” Eddie asked and you turned around to face him with a roll of your eyes.

“It’s a lake, Eddie. People usually ride boats around on it or they swim. And I thought that we could swim.” You pulled him towards you and he moved to you just like a magnet. You brought your lips to his ear and he swore he was going to cum right there.

“Without our clothes.” Your voice was so sexy that it was unfair. He wanted you whisper the most dirty things to him and he hated that he couldn’t partake in any of that with you because you had a boyfriend. Or at least, he thought you did.

“Break up with him,” he replied, his voice sounding so whiny, so desperate and it was doing wonders for your imagination. He sounded so pathetic and you felt yourself getting wet as you heard it.

“I already did,” you responded before wrapping your arms around his neck while his went to your waist. You pressed your lips to and he was quick to respond to it, slotting his between yours together perfectly.

He began to back you up, not knowing where he was going, but feeling the need to move. You were getting close to the edge of the dock, but neither of you were paying attention until it was too late.

The edge of the dock was slippery from the water and your shoe slid against it, causing you to fall backwards. Eddie reached for your hand in an attempt to save you, but it only made you take him with you as you both plunged into the water.

You both surface pretty quickly and Eddie reached for you, wrapping his arms around you once again as you both laughed at how ridiculous the whole situation was, knowing that you probably should have gotten out, but you stayed there, wrapped up in each other as the sun slowly dried off your upper halves.

“We should probably get out,” he told you. “It’s not good to wear wet clothes for too long.”

“Well, lucky for you I know a place where we don’t need clothes at all,” you started moving towards the shore and Eddie was eating up every single word. He was beginning to think that maybe you were a better flirt than he was.

“And where’s that?” He knew exactly what you were referring to, but just wanted to hear you say it.

“The shower.” The words sounded even hotter coming from your mouth that he had imagined.

“How’s the water pressure?” It wasn’t like you were going to do much showering anyway, but Eddie still felt like he should have asked.

“Really good.”

“I think I should see for myself.”

“Me too. Now c’mon, Diaz," you grabbed onto his hands and pulled him along.

You both got to the shore and practically ran to your house in a hurry, nothing but giggles escaping your lips as you did so. Your wet shoes had slowed you down so it had gotten to the point where Eddie had picked you up in one swift motion and carried you the rest of the way.

You both took off your shoes and Eddie carried you up the stairs to your bathroom and you had assured him that your roommate was going to be gone all day so you could make as much noise as you wanted. Not that her being there would have stopped him anyway. He had dreamed about this for weeks and nothing could have stopped him from living out his fantasy.

Eddie set you down on the floor and you opened the shower door to turn on the water and let the door close as the water heated up. You grabbed him by the shirt and pressed your lips to his in a messy kiss. It was all teeth and tongues, but it wasn’t like you cared. You just needed his lips on you in anyway you could get them.

Eddie brought his hands up to your jaw and tilted your head back for more access and he opened your mouth up by pulling your chin down with his thumbs. He slid his tongue into your mouth and swirled it around your own as your hands slid up the front of his shirt, making contact with his chest. You pushed the shirt up onto his shoulders and he pulled away just long enough for you to take it off before his lips were on yours again.

His hands slid underneath your sweatshirt with every intention to take off your bra, only to find that you weren’t wearing one. He slid your sweatshirt off and your tits were just as perfect as he thought they would be.

“Jodidamente hermosa,” he sighed and you had no idea what he was saying, but loved the way it sounded in his accent.

“What does that mean?” You asked and he just chuckled, pulling you in for another bruising kiss.

“Fucking beautiful,” he replied against your lips and you decided that you needed him right then.

“Tell me more,” you commanded as your hands went to undo his belt. His lips captured yours as he went to unbutton your jeans as he was getting more desperate to be inside you.

“Quítate la ropa,” he said, his voice authoritative and raspy. You had absolutely no clue what he was telling you to do, but you were desperate to listen to him. He brought his lips to your ear for the translation and you thought you were going to melt right there.

“Take your clothes off,” he whispered as you heard your pants unzip and you were quick to take them off before removing your underwear as well.

As soon as Eddie got his own pants off, you opened the shower door and pulled him inside before he pulled the door, closing you both in. The shower was small, but neither of you minded one bit. It only gave you an excuse to be that much closer.

Eddie pressed his lips to yours once more in a rough kiss and you wrapped your arms around his neck while his went to your waist as he pushed you against the wall. He grabbed onto your thighs and wrapped your legs around his waist as he slammed his dick into you, causing you to let out a loud moan that was music to his ears.

He thrusted in and out as fast as he could go and you were afraid that you were already coming undone even though you had just gotten things started. Your fingers dug into his shoulders, but that only encouraged him to go harder.

“So fucking tight,” he said. “Guess your boyfriend didn’t take care of you like he should have, huh?” He asked and you just moaned in response.

“No,” you shook your head and Eddie gave you a devilish grin.

“Don’t worry mí amor, that’s my job now.” His hands gripped your waist and he pounded into you the hardest and fastest he could go while simultaneously trying to fit all of himself inside you even though that wasn’t an easy feat.

“Oh, Eddie,” you moaned and he loved the way his name sounded so filth falling from your lips. Almost as if it was a dirty word.

“Look at you,” he said, his voice sounding even more raspy. “Taking me so well and you look so fucking pretty on my cock.”

“I feel pretty,” you responded with a moan and decided that sex was always supposed to feel like that and you had gaslit yourself into thinking otherwise because Mark was so bad at it.

He was a horrible partner in that area especially because he was always so selfish. He’d do whatever he wanted and didn’t even seem to care so you just got good at faking it. But with Eddie, you didn’t have to fake anything.

Your fingers were digging into Eddie’s shoulder so hard that you were convinced you were going to draw blood as he continued to fuck into you, making you feel like you never had before. He was so good at knowing exactly what you liked without even having to ask. And him praising you was driving you wild, making you feel special even though you were sure he said that to all of the women he slept with.

You could feel your vision go hazy as you reached your orgasm and you let out a loud moan as your back arched in absolute pleasure. At that, Eddie began to slow his pumps and he pulled out of you as you collapsed against him.

“C’mon, mí amor, you can’t go dumb on me yet,” he let out laugh and pulled your head away from his shoulder so you would look at him. “How about we take a break and I clean you up, hm?”

"No," you whined, grabbing onto him. "Need you right now," you told him.

"As long as you're sure," Eddie looked at you and you bit your lip as you nodded and all he could think about was the all the ways he could scandalize you. His fingers trailed down your front until they found your cunt. He shoved them inside you and began to pump them in and out of you as you moaned loudly. You turned your back to him so he hand more access and pressed it to his front as your head fell back onto his shoulder.

Eddie watched you come undone from his touch and felt like he was going to cum himself. The sounds you were making and the looks on your face were so hot that he was having trouble controlling himself. He pumped in and out as fast as he could and it was obvious that you were close. Your back arched as you reached your second orgasm and Eddie pulled his fingers out of you before turning you around to face him, pressing his lips to your in a bruising kiss.

Your hands moved to his hair as he deepened the kiss, reaching behind you to turn the water off. You both exited the shower with your lips still attached and you only pulled away to grab a towel for the each of you and you both quickly dried off before he followed you to your bedroom.

You gave him your biggest t-shirt and a pair of pajama shorts and told him to get comfortable while you threw your wet clothes into the washer. Eddie threw himself onto your bed and let out a contented sigh that not only had he finally hooked up with you, but that you had invited him to stay instead of kicking him out afterwards.

He turned on the tv as you entered the room, looking like something straight out of his dreams in your over-sized t-shirt. You got into the bed next to him and he took the opportunity to lay on your chest, feeling his eyes get heavy as he snuggled into you.

You carded your hands through his hair and felt your heart warm as you watched Eddie drift off to sleep, feeling lucky to have found a man like him. You had hoped that your hook up hadn't been a one off and that you could do it again, after he wined and dined you, of course. And Eddie had every intention of doing just that.

[azrielsdove]

Forbidden Love: Lucien x IC!Member Reader

Warnings: Angst

***

You couldn’t help the way your eyes drank in the fire-haired male currently speaking to your High Lord. You sensed the animosity radiating off of Azriel and Cassian from next to you, their annoyance with the Spring Court ever present. You knew that it was wrong, that it would never work. You didn’t want to imagine the way your friends would react if they discovered your little crush on the emissary.

Lucien’s eyes drifted over to you, cold and hard. “Any new plans to attack the members of my court, assassin?” You rolled your eyes at his question, spinning the dagger you held between your fingers.

“As we have reminded you and your High Lord several times, those fae were traitors and not to be trusted. They were not true members of your court.” He scoffed at your answer, shaking his head.

“Why should we ever believe you? All these meetings consist of are you all acting holier than thou, speaking as if we should automatically trust you.” He sneered in your direction, his hatred for you and your court palpable.

“Please, spare us the melodramatics. Not only did I do my job, I kept your court and its members safe from further harm.” You smiled sweetly at him. “A thank you would be nice.”

You could almost feel the fire that radiated in his eyes before he turned back to Rhysand. “Tamlin has requested a personal meeting after Calanmai, to discuss ongoing efforts of rehabilitation at the Spring Court. Can we fit into your insufferably busy schedule?” Annoyance was dripping from his voice, as it usually got by the end of these meetings.

“I suppose I can squeeze you in. I’ll send a message with available days and times at my convenience.” Rhysand gave a smile that showed all his teeth, a deadly threat thinly vailed as a friendly gesture. Lucien gave an equally fake smile back before turning and leaving the room. Azriel and Cassian immediately flanked to Rhys’ side, prepared to fly back to Velaris and debrief. You headed towards the door Lucien had left from, tasked with making sure he didn’t try snooping around the Hewn City. You spotted a flash of red hair turning a corner and started after him.

The corridor you entered was empty, your senses immediately on high alert. Where had he gone? You scanned the alcoves as you passed, one dagger held ready in your hand. You were halfway down the hall when an arm wrapped tight around your waist,

pulling you back into the dark alcove you had just passed. You twisted in the hold until your blade was

pressed tight against your assailants neck, a strand of red hair brushing against your hand.

“Quick little thing, aren’t you?” He hummed, looking down at you with his arm still wrapped around you. You sneered up at him, pressing the blade a little harder on his neck. He chuckled against the dagger, his free hand coming up and tugging your hand away. You sheathed the weapon, placing your hands on his chest with a small smile. Lucien tucked a strand of hair behind your ear, hand cupping your face. “I’ve missed you.”

You pushed up onto your toes, lips brushing gently against his. “I bet i’ve missed you more,” you teased, blood heating at the wicked grin on his face.

“Is that so?” His hand moved to the back of your neck, angling you up to him, lips pressing hard to yours. You sighed into the kiss, the familiar warmth spreading through your body at his touch. The love and joy you felt with Lucien was unlike anything you had ever known. Your fingers dug into his shirt, clutching onto him as if he was your lifeline. His hand flattened against your back, pushing you tighter into him. You gave a small moan as Lucien’s lips moved to your neck, kissing and biting the soft skin.

This was what life should be.

The thought sent a bitter chill down your spine, body tensing in Lucien’s hold. A change he noticed instantly, pulling away to look into your eyes. “What is it, my love?” You felt the tears coming, the overwhelming emotion that attacked when you were most vulnerable.

“I wish we didn’t have to hide like this.” Your voice was small, Lucien sighing at the conversation you’ve had countless times.

“You know I would tell them all in a heartbeat,” he said, looking over you carefully. “My position in the Spring Court means nothing to me, if it came to that. The only thing that matters is you.” Your throat tightened at his words, the love that he held for you.

“I know, Lu.” You bit your lip, thinking. “Rhysand would never forgive me.” Your eyes fell from his in shame, focusing on your hands that still rested on Lucien’s chest. He gave another deep sigh, his hands coming up to cover yours.

“Do they not wish you to be happy?” His question was quiet, cautious. You peeked up at him from under your eyelashes, shaking your head.

“They would never accept my happiness lies with you. I’d be sent away, marked a traitor to the Night Court.” Lucien tucked one hand back under your chin, pulling your face up towards his.

“Then they don’t deserve you here. We could go somewhere else, live with each other. I’d go to the ends of this world to see you happy and at peace.” Your heart squeezed at his words as you pushed up to kiss him again. Lucien, the king of your heart.

Maybe it was time to talk with Rhysand and your friends.

***

You and Lucien stayed in that alcove for as long as you could dare, kissing and touching and whispering sweet nothings. Every goodbye got harder, an inevitable end to your little peaceful bubble. You brushed away the fallen tears as you watched Lucien head out, preparing to winnow back to the Spring Court.

You hated these moments.

You composed yourself before going back to Velaris, putting your cool and calm persona back on. A fact that bothered you, that you now felt to hide your true self from your friends. From your family.

You had been in the Night Court for a hundred years, the feared assassin that Rhysand set on his enemies. You had created a name for yourself, deadly and dangerous. You never cared about the fear you instilled in others, not until you met Lucien.

The first time he had come to your court, you instantly felt drawn to him. It had knocked the air out of your lungs, the deep connection you felt to this unknown male. By the flash of shock in his eyes you realized he had felt it too. After that meeting you had cornered him in the hall, demanding to know what magic he had used on you.

It was only minutes after that he had you pressed up against the wall, his lips doing sinful things to yours.

You knew, in your heart, that he was your mate. He knew it too. The bond you couldn’t accept, not yet. Not when you lived in two rival courts, only seeing each other when meetings were called by either High Lord.

You took a deep breath before pushing the doors open to the townhouse, a smug smile on your face. Rhysand turned towards you, raising his glass of whiskey in greeting. “Get that Spring Court scum out of my town?” He teased, a flare of anger igniting in your chest. You pushed it down, laughing instead.

“Don’t I always?” You cooed, heading towards the ever-stocked liquor cart. You grabbed whatever was hardest, only caring about easing the pain in your heart. How long could you keep this up? You loved your family, you loved the Night Court, but you knew you would never be complete without Lucien at your side. You kept your breathing calm as you poured your drink, acting as if nothing were wrong.

“I wish they’d send someone else. How did he even manage to become the Spring Court emissary? He was not born there.” Cassian was musing, his dislike for Lucien strong. He didn’t like any of the Vanserra brothers, regardless of the fact that Lucien himself didn’t care for them either. “I wonder what kind of pity story he told Tamlin to rise up in that Court. I’d wager that he is only there at the order of Beron, probably with some plan to take the High Lord title for himself.” He shook his head and took a deep drink from his glass. “We shouldn’t let him keep coming here, Rhys. Who knows what he’s really doing?”

Your hand tightened around your own glass, raising it to your lips to try to hide the rage coursing through you. It was always like this after the meetings. They would talk about how horrible Lucien is, theorize about his life. You often kept quiet, throwing in the odd comment to not seem suspicious. It felt like a stab in your gut to hear your family speak so terribly about the male you loved.

“Now, Cass, he has never given us a reason not to trust him. Any of the deals we have made he has held true to.” Rhys swirled the liquid in his glass as he spoke, a smirk on his face. “I would rather never have to see that garish face again, though. He carries himself as if he is so much better than everyone, and for what? Being the disgraced son of the Autumn Court, forced to run to his little friend for safety? Pathetic, if you ask me.” You shot back more of your drink, vision turning red. As if you are any different, you thought, immediately checking that your mental shields remained up.

“I think you give him too much credit, Cass. I’ve sent my shadows after Lucien several times and they never have anything interesting to report. He’s just a sad, lonely male.” Azriel shrugged, as if it should be obvious that Lucien had nothing going for him.

You poured more alcohol into your rapidly emptying glass. It got harder and harder to listen to them as your love for Lucien grew. “What do you think, our deadly assassin? You always follow him out, has he ever tried to speak with you? Glean any extra information about our home?” Rhys asked, cocking his head as he did.

You swallowed the drink you had just taken, forcing a cold smile onto your face. “I think Azriel is right. He never says anything, never strays from leaving. He comes to do what was instructed and then he goes. Everything he does is at the hands of another.” You felt sick to speak about him so, but you were too scared of the repercussions the truth would bring. Perhaps that made you a coward, someone undeserving of Lucien. Soon. I’ll tell them soon, you told yourself, shooting back another drink.

***

This had to be a nightmare.

You stared blankly at Rhys, unable to keep your usual calm demeanor. The look of concern on his face told you that you were blowing your cover, that he was going to know something was amiss now.

You couldn’t get yourself to breathe.

“I can select someone else, if this is an issue? My apologies, I didn’t think this would be the most difficult task i’d ask of you.” You wanted to laugh at his joke, to shake your head and smile and go along with his plan. He was right, out of all the things you had done as the Night Court Assassin, this was far from the worst. You simply had to pretend to be betrothed to Azriel.

At the next meeting.

With the Spring Court.

In front of Lucien.

As if the pain of being separate from him wasn’t enough, you would parade around in front of his eyes with a male who wasn’t him. The thought sent a stab into your already injured heart, a reminder of how pathetic you were for not just telling Rhys.

You blinked, clearing your throat. “No, uh, I can do that. Sorry, it just took me by surprise.” You knew it was a weak response, and by the narrowing of Rhys’ eyes he knew it too.

“I don’t trust that Lucien has been coming completely innocently. I have seen the way he looks at you during our meetings when he thinks no one will notice. I am worried he has been sent to try to trick you into a courtship, some sort of sick pairing between the Night and Spring courts.” His scoff of disgust sent another pang through your heart. “By alluding to your engagement to Azriel, we can observe their reaction. See if they slip up with any emotion, anything that proves my theory.” A smirk appeared on his lips. “Besides, what better pairing than my feared Assassin and Spymaster?”

You forced yourself to laugh, nodding along to his plan. “A deadly pair.”

***

You slid your hands down the front of the elegant dress you wore, looking over yourself in the mirror. You looked beautiful, a deadly angel donned all in a blue so deep it was nearly black. Your hair had been twisted up, exposing the expensive earrings and necklace you wore. The gems on them direct matches to Azriel’s siphons, a silent claim that you were his.

As if the giant diamond on your finger didn’t make that clear enough.

You knew it wasn’t real, that it was all a facade. You truly did love Azriel, just not like this. Somehow even pretending to be with another male made you nauseous, uncomfortable in your own skin. You couldn’t help but worry about how Lucien was going to feel when he saw you. Would he understand none of it was real? Or would he fall for the trap Rhys had laid?

“You look lovely.” You turned to the low voice coming from your doorway, a small smile plastered onto your face. Azriel knew something about this plan upset you, cornering you about it earlier that week. You had insisted it was nothing to do with him, that there was no real issue. You faked “confidence issues”, worry that you wouldn’t be able to pull it off. You felt like he hadn’t believed you, but he did not argue further.

“As do you,” you complimented back, the words truthful. Your friend looked as handsome as ever, dressed in his finest to escort you to the meeting.

As his betrothed.

You walked over to him, placing your arm delicately in the crook of his elbow. “Let’s go raise some Hel.”

***

He believed it.

Lucien’s eyes were full of pain and betrayal as he took you in at the side of the Shadowsinger. He stared far too long at the ring on your finger, far too obvious to everyone else. Rhysand smirked from beside you, confident that his plan had succeeded.

You wanted to scream.

Azriel’s arm wrapped around your waist, holding you protectively. Typically you would feel safe in his hold, but every touch from him felt like razors across your skin. Especially with the way Lucien looked at you.

There was anger there. He truly believed you had tossed him aside for Azriel. You felt sick again, swaying slightly in his grasp. Azriel’s arm tightened around you, concern on his face as he looked down. “You okay?” He murmured, not wanting to draw any extra attention to you. You nodded, looking away from him. You didn’t trust your voice.

“Allow me to extend my congratulations to you and yours, Rhysand.” Tamlin spoke smoothly, a genuine smile on his face. You realized that he didn’t know about you and Lucien. You couldn’t help but to glance over at him, your heart aching at the empty expression on his face. You wanted to scream. This plan was ridiculous.

“Thank you, Tamlin.” Azriel spoke politely, his body against yours all of a sudden too hot. Every instinct told you to run to Lucien, that it shouldn’t be Azriel you are stood next to.

“I must say, Tamlin, that you may be more clever than I gave you credit for,” Rhysand began, inspecting his nails as if this was a mindless discussion. No. No. No.

Stop this.

You need to STOP THIS.

Your mind was screaming at you, but your body was frozen in place. Horror coursed through your veins, disgust in yourself twinning with it. Why hadn’t you spoken up sooner? You looked to Tamlin, his brows furrowed as he listened to Rhysand.

“An alliance between our courts would be something extremely beneficial to you, wouldn’t it? So beneficial, in fact, that you would resort to such lowly measures to try to secure it.” Rhysand glanced up at Tamlin then, lips pursing as he took in the genuine confusion on his face. Rhysands eyes narrowed, looking between Lucien and Tamlin. “Or did you not know? What your emissary has been doing here?” Tamlin now turned to Lucien, eyes wide.

“What are you talking about?” Lucien spat out, his typical cool demeanor gone. Rhysand smiled gleefully, gesturing over to you.

Say something. You need to say something.

“Your little game you’ve been playing with my assassin. Trying to win her heart, her hand in marriage.” He laughed. “It’s too bad our Shadowsinger here got her first, isn’t it?”

Coward. Coward. COWARD.

SPEAK UP.

Lucien turned slowly to you, eyes rimmed in red. “Is this true?” His voice was quiet, broken. Your hands shook as you took him in, the heartbreak so strong you could almost taste it.

“I-I,” you stuttered out, looking to Rhysand in a panic. How could he do this to you?

How could you LET him do this to you?

You shot away from Azriel, sucking in deep breaths of air. You turned wildly to Lucien, tears streaming down your face. “No.”

Rhysand gave a cruel laugh, drawing your attention back to him. “Whatever do you mean?” He asked, venmo dripping from his words. You wanted to cower at his anger, to back away and continue on with the plan.

But you had remained quiet long enough.

You shook your head, voice growing stronger. “No.” You looked back to Lucien, every inch of you hoping you could fix this. “I do love Lucien, Rhys. But it is not how you think.” You took a step closer to him, a pathetic relief soaking through you when he didn’t back away. “I have loved him from the moment we met. I have loved him secret, hiding this part of myself from you all.” You took another step. “I wait, heart aching with the pain of being apart from him, for these stupid meetings. I stay awake at night and watch the stars, imagining him doing the same.” More tears fell, matching ones trailing down Lucien’s face as you took another step towards him. “I live for hidden moments in dark corridors, for whispers of love only when no one else can hear them. And i’m tired.” Your voice cracked as you took the final step, bringing you right in front of Lucien.

“I’m so tired,” you whispered, slowly holding your hand out to him. You needed his strength, his warmth. He glanced between your hand and face, expression unreadable.

And then he took a step back.

The air disappeared from your lungs, your knees shaking as they struggled to support you.

No. No. No.

You had to fix this. You looked towards Rhys, Azriel, and Cassian. They wore similar expressions of shock and…pity. Pity.

You fell to your knees. “He’s my mate,” you choked out, the already silent room going even quieter. As if time itself stood still at your proclamation.

“Lucien is my mate,” you said again, anger with yourself charging through you. “He is my mate and I never told anyone. I allowed us to suffer in silence, too scared to tell you the truth. I thought you’d dismiss me from Court, from your life if you found out, Rhys.” More tears fell as you watched the flicker of pain go across your High Lords face.

“No, I would never-“ He started, moving towards you.

“Wouldn’t you?” Rhys stopped as you cut him off, gazing down upon your tear stained face. “Look what we are doing right now, Rhysand. The mere thought of Lucien being interested sent you to create a whole plan to catch him.” You looked down in shame. “And I let you do it.”

You felt like you may die right there. You had waited too long to say anything, you had allowed Lucien to be humiliated in front of his High Lord and yours. You had hidden your heart too deep, too afraid of what would happen if your friends found out about Lucien. All for you to lose him in the end.

A hand appeared in front of your blurred vision.

A familiar, welcoming hand.

You looked up to see Lucien’s face, a small smile on his as he helped you up. You stood in front of him, unsure what to say.

“You want this?” He asked quietly, tucking his hand under your chin. You swallowed, nodding.

“I only want you. Now, and forever.” It was true. You realized now how silly you had been, how you never should have feared losing your friends and court. All that mattered was Lucien. The male created just for you.

“My mate,” he whispered, before pulling you in and pressing his lips to yours. The kiss was full of fire and love, the now acknowledged mating bond singing. You melted into him, holding him as tight as you could. The rest of the room disappeared, leaving only you and Lucien. You felt as if you were glowing, wrapped up in the love he exuded.

You pulled away only when your lungs cried for air, smiling up at Lucien. He was yours. It didn’t matter what anyone else thought.

You turned to Rhys, grasping Lucien’s hand tight within yours. “If you wish me to go, then I will. But I will not sit and suffer and lie in fear any longer. I love you, all of you.” You looked at Lucien next to you. “My heart and soul belong with Lucien. I hope that you can accept that.”

Rhys rushed over to you, grabbing your hands into his. “How could you ever think that? I made this plan thinking he was trying to use you. If I had known, I would never-“ his voice cracked as he looked at Lucien. “I hope you can accept my sincerest apologies. I would never do anything to compromise her happiness.” You felt new tears slide down your cheeks, both relieved and embarrassed. You should have trusted Rhys, not hidden away in fear. You squeezed his hands, bringing his attention back to you.

“I should’ve told you a long time ago. I’m sorry.” He shook his head, pulling you in for a hug.

“No, i’m sorry. I never should have created an environment where you didn’t feel safe telling me this.” His eyes were shiny as he moved away, releasing you back to Lucien. “Whatever you want, I will grant. If you wish to live here I will accept you with open arms.” Tamlin stepped up next to him, nodding in agreement.

“My Court will always be open to you as well. I can’t imagine anyone who deserves this joy more than Lucien.” He gave him a broad smile, happy for his closest friend. Lucien nodded once in thanks, an arm wrapping securely around your waist. His fingers traced the diamond ring on your hand, slipping it off easily.

“I think we should replace this, don’t you?”

***

Some Time Later

You were admiring the elegant gold ring on your finger, watching the way the suns rays bounced off the firey ruby in the center of it. No matter how much time had passed you couldn’t help but be stunned by the beauty of the thing. The balcony door opened behind you, arms wrapping around your waist. A pair of lips met your neck, kissing you as you hummed softly.

“Early morning?” Lucien asked, teeth grazing your skin. You leaned harder back into him, welcoming his touch.

“Mmm. Rhys wanted to go over my upcoming assignments. He’s…worried about me completing them.” One of Lucien’s hands slid down over the slight curve of your stomach, the beginning signs of the life growing inside you.

“He’s not underestimating my wife, is he?” Lucien asked with a playful bite to your neck.

You laughed, shaking your head. “I told him it was fine, and if I felt I could not complete a task I would tell him so. He still didn’t seem convinced, if i’m being honest.”

“Hm. Perhaps i’ll have to talk to him.” Lucien turned you in his arms, pressing a searing kiss to your lips. “Let him know how perfectly capable you are.” You smiled up at him, kissing him again. Lucien tugged you close, opening your mouth with his. Ever since he found out you were carrying his baby, he hadn’t been able to keep his hands off of you.

Not that you were complaining.

***

[grandeoatmilklatte]

Kinktober Day 2 🎃

Garreth Weasley x Sex Pollen (853 words)

A/N: There's a little academic rivals in here too!

Warnings: NSFW || MDNI || +18 plus characters || oral f receiving || m ejac ||

Garreth’s jaw dropped as he watched you in front of your shared potions classroom, showing off your latest invention.

How could you have figured out his recipe for Fizzing Whizzbeer? It was physically impossible; Garreth’s potions book never left his sight. The only answer was that you were just that good, and just that desperate to claim the title as the best potioneer in school. A title that once belonged to him until you had the fortune of being placed in the same class. Suddenly, the pretty girl who caused significantly less explosions than him was challenging his title.

Garreth thought to give you the benefit of the doubt, but as you strutted back to your seat to the sound of praises from your classmates and Professor, your sly whisper of “Better luck next time, Weasel” left him seeing a red brighter than his hair. You were now at war, and Garreth had the perfect revenge in mind.

It wasn’t supposed to hurt you. It was just a simple pimple potion. Your beautiful face would break out in red spots for 12 hours, eventually going down on its own. Totally harmless! Garreth slipped a few drops into your tea one evening while you were both working late on a project in your potions classroom, but as he hurriedly shoved the vial back into his bag, it was then he realized he had grabbed the wrong one.

The effects came quick - increased heart rate, sweat forming above your brow, a tingling sensation shooting from your stomach straight to your core. You looked up to see Garreth staring at you with concern. He had to have been the least subtle person in the wizarding world.

“WHAT DID YOU DO?!”

As an experienced potioneer yourself, you dreaded the answer, knowing full well what was happening to you. You had just been slipped an altered form of Amortentia that served as a high potency aphrodisiac.

Floods of apologies and claims that it was an accident fell from Garreth’s lips, lips that you couldn’t stop staring at. You wondered how they tasted, how they’d feel between your legs. You needed to get out of that room before you did something stupid, but Garreth begged you to stay, fearful that you’d mount the first thing you laid eyes on upon leaving. You were finally forced to stay when out of guilt, Garreth chugged the remainder of the vial.

The temperature of the room seemed to increase by ten degrees as you both stared at each other. You found yourself hypnotized by his green gaze, a state that you had actually been in before, but that you could do unabashedly now. You weren’t sure which one of you moved first, but your lips were suddenly pressed together, your tongues acting out the academic rivalry you had. Time seemed to move exponentially fast as you found yourself hoisted on to an empty desk, both of your hands moving at frantic speeds to remove your clothes which had suddenly become so very heavy.

“My goodness you are so beautiful! You know, I would have told you that ages ago if you weren’t trying so hard to be better than me.” Garreth breathed out as he sank to his knees in front of you, and trailing kisses up your inner thigh.

“I am better than you.”

You felt his breath against your cunt as he scoffed at your words. The feeling made your body ache, desperate for relief. But the feeling vanished as quickly as it arrived when he pressed his lips onto you.

You prayed to any gods that would listen that no one was close enough to hear as you cried out Garreth’s name. Fire coursed through your whole body as you clung to his mop of hair, desperate to pull him even closer than he already was. The potency of the potion coupled with the intensity with which Garreth sucked and licked at your clit brought you to climax at an alarming rate, your legs shaking and your cheeks wet with tears.

Garreth didn’t resurface from between your legs until you had fully come down from your high, his face covered in the evidence of your climax, and his hand covered in the evidence of his own. You felt a pang of disappointment knowing that you wouldn’t have the opportunity to return the favor, but promised yourself you would make due on that later, suddenly realizing that the effects of the potion had worn off when your high did. And yet, you still made that promise to yourself as you licked his climax clean off before kissing your own off his face.

— “I really hope we can do this again.” Garreth refused to meet your eyes as you got yourself dressed.

You giggled at his sudden shyness. “We can do it again, on one condition - you have to start paying more attention to the labels on your vials! This is exactly why I’m better at potions than you are, Weasel!”

Garreth rolled his eyes at you, but smiled as he took your hand, leading you out of the potions classroom.

[psiroller]

OkOk, so I know you’re currently in the middle of writing who knows how many more dunmeshi fics, but have you considered Tall-man x Tall-man Chillchuck and Laios yet? Maybe for a quick little drabble or something? I feel like that could go somewhere maybe.. If not this is just me rambling 😔, so feel free to ramble back and have a good day <3

oh anon. you found me juuust as i was raring up to procrastinate. you are in luck. CHILAIOS/656 WORDS/TALLCHUCKXLAIOS/CONSIDER THIS BREAK THE LOCK CANON

“Okay,” Chilchuck said, his voice deeper and rougher than Laios was used to. “What’re you staring at?”

Laios blinked. “You, obviously.”

“But aren’t you used to this shit yet? Do I look different now that you’ve changed back?”

Laios cocked his head. The changeling effect had worn off for Laios a few hours ago, but Chilchuck was still a tallman. Maybe because he was lower to the ground, he got a larger payload? Laios had made extra sure they’d scrubbed everything off him, so it was only a matter of time. Laios didn’t like to think about the possibility Chilchuck never changing back, but with his taller stature returned he could properly appreciate the differences. Chilchuck loomed over Laios as a dwarf and was still taller than him now. His cheekbones were higher, his face stretched along a taller jaw, stubble emerging so soon after a morning shave. Yet, besides the slightly sunken and tired look, Chilchuck’s eyes were still the same; pitch dark in low light, amber-brown in front of the fire, intense when met.

“You do,” Laios said, “but you don’t. I keep noticing little things.”

A blush rose on Chilchuck’s gaunt face, scratching at the nape of his neck. “Well, don’t get too invested. It’s gonna wear off soon.” He rubbed the pressure point on his temple. “Hopefully.”

“It will,” Laios assured him, and scooted closer. “But it’s fascinating… I wonder how the changeling spores decide what form to change someone into?”

“I guess whatever’s funniest,” Chilchuck said with a wry grin. “You saw Izutsumi.”

“I don’t think you’re funny looking, though,” Laios frowned, his eyebrows pinching together. Chilchuck pshawed at him and put a hand on his face when he got close. Laios pushed against it and wriggled, an over-affectionate dog held at bay.

“It’s supposed to make me look freakish to everyone else, so I die alone, right?” Chilchuck said. “Half-foot to tall-man makes sense. I’m twice the size of the biggest guy in my family. Imagine if I came home to my kids like this when they were young.”

He frowned at that, the dark humor sucked out of it by frank darkness. “And an elf to a half-foot,” he went on, trying to wipe the annoying concern off Laios’ face, “That’s gotta be a nightmare. We’re the lowest of the low to them, right?”

“Chilchuck.”

Laios was back in Chilchuck’s space, having evaded his hand, or Chilchuck had let him. It didn’t matter. Chilchuck’s hand found Laios’ shoulder but he didn’t shove. Chilchuck hated being observed so closely, but he made endless exceptions for Laios.

“You’re beautiful,” he said. Chilchuck honked out a laugh. “I’m serious!” Laios barked, and Chilchuck petered out. “I mean it, Chil.”

Chilchuck rolled his eyes. “Well, that’s a shame, since you’re never gonna see this face again.”

Laios held his face and turned Chilchuck to face him, to kiss him. Their faces fit together unevenly even though they were the same size now. Laios scratched his fingers through Chilchuck’s stubble and nuzzled their noses together, did that creepy thing where he opened his eyes to watch Chilchuck as they kissed that always drove him crazy. Laios reached up to touch Chilchuck’s ear, finding a nick in his ear that Marcille could never fully heal all the way, and Chilchuck grumbled as he felt—something like it, it was doing something for him, but maddeningly dull compared to his memory.

“That’s just it, Chil,” Laios breathed. “Seeing you like this, as cool as it is…” he grinned sadly. “I miss you as you are.”

When Laios brought up his other hand to cup Chil’s head, there was a rush of something electric. As he drifted back into reality, he was engulfed in Laios’ warm shadow, and they couldn’t easily interlock their hands. Chilchuck gripped the broad gap between Laios’ middle and ring fingers, and thanked the stupid mushrooms for letting them fit together properly again.

[m0chisenpai]

Hi I saw this tiktok

https://vm.tiktok.com/ZGJQPcU84/

And I immediately thought of prowler! Miles x fem reader

If your taking requests I would be really grateful if you considered this ❤️

-🕸️

Spiderman Across the Spiderverse

42!Miles Morales x black!fem!!reader

YO so I have been wondering how would the earth 42 version of the spidergirl!reader I have already and I feel like this just confirmed she needs to be THAT girl

You were his type. You could hold your own down Miles knew that much when he witnessed you beating the brakes off a girl down the street for coming at one of your friends. The way you casually laid the girl out and fixed your hair, took your bag from your friends and continued on your way. Boy was SPRUNG and his friends clown him bout it for DAYS

Guys came and went in your life. They never lingered and you liked it that way. You never let them set you up. You were always five steps ahead. Were quick to cut them off before things got messy, and you grew bored easily.

This however, caught Miles completely off guard when he flashed you that lazy smile and cooed at you in the middle of calculus asking if you could tutor him after school to which you replied “do I look like I know what I’m doing?” And turned your pretty ass back around

The guys who COULD survive you and live to tell the tale all mentioned one similar thing in common: your temper and your stubborn behavior and Miles could attest to both when before school he watched as you sat on the curb refusing to get in homeboys car because of a text message that you saw on his phone that lie cracked and chipped just a few feet from you

You played the game easily with boys. They played checkers while you were playing chess but sometimes you wondered if there was anyone out there, even as much as you enjoyed plucking boy hearts like Valentine’s Day candy hearts, something soft and sweet deep down in that heart of yours yearned to be loved

When Miles asked you what was up with you during fifth block calc you said the ceiling and told him to kindly fuck off once again. Next class he continued to speak with you like that conversation never happened. The cycle continued for a good two weeks, Miles attempting that pretty boy charm and you brushing him away like he was a fly on the wall

He liked a little challenge, a little bark AND bite and not because he wanted to conquer you oh no, he loved your fire and he wanted to stoke your fire in you. He wanted to pour the gasoline a top of it and watch you burn bright and beautiful

Miles stood outside of your locker that you opened up and he caught when you intended for it to crack him in his nose. "Morales, I'm not one of your bitches. If you think you can play me like one, respectfully fuck off."

And he raised a brow and tilted his head, "you not a bitch that's for sure. And I never said you was one. I know you smart, I know how you play and get down. So like I’m gon ask you again, what is up with you Y/N?"

Silence. but the corner of your brown lined lips turns up slightly and you suppose you'll entertain Morales.

You and Miles were THAT couple, one second ya’ll were friends and the next thing he’s checking on you between classes, waiting outside of school to walk you home, and chopping it with your homegirls who gush and rave about he wasn’t like the last bum you were talking to

No one can pinpoint when it happened, one second you were apart next thing you were Morales’ girl and he was L/N’s man

Miles never liked getting caught up with females, it never ended good and his ‘part time job’ always got in the way of relationships but things with you were different

You didn’t press Miles on why he wasn’t responding late at night, never chided him for handling his business, and you damn sure didn’t care when he talked to other females. Miles wonders why the world hid such a rare Godsend from him because you gave him little to NO headaches when it came to petty matters he dealt with

When he introduces you to Mama Rio she falls in love with you and Miles nearly cackles at how soft his mom makes you, she grills you on her son and tells you that if her boy messes up or does anything wrong to let her know IMMEDIATELY and you and his uncle are on good terms and he tells you the same thing his sister in law said

Just as much as Miles spoils you, you return the favor

He cashapps you for a fresh set? You send your baby something back to get a fresh line up and touch his braids up. You’ve got dozens of his barber pics and videos saved and he’s got your fresh sets and hair saved in his phone as well

Ya’ll got matching kicks I don’t care if it’s corny ya’ll do and you kindly told the bitch drooling over your man at the store the shoes while she was checking ya’ll out it was gonna take more than fluttering them patchy little minks at your man to get his attention

It takes some time till you expose a softer bit of you, a more gentle part. You lost your father, and thats why it pains you to see Mr.Morales whenever he is by, but Miles’ father sees a daughter in you and is so sweet on you it melts your heart

As much as he loved how you can hold yours down, it takes time and patience to chip past that hyper independence you’ve built. Your walls were built on hurt and pain and Miles knew not to force his way in, but you could be so stubborn headed. The first night the two of you really went at it was after you’d gone over Miles’ apartment and attempted to call an Uber back home at 2am.

“I know you fucking lying” Miles’ voice broke the silence from falling asleep during a Netflix marathon. As soon as he felt you lift your head from his chest his eyes snapped open “a dónde vas mami?” Any other night that raspy post sleep tone would have you weak in the knees and right back in his arms, but not tonight.

“Miles I don’t got no bag to spend the night and I need my stuff” Miles rolls his eyes and reaches to grab your hand to stop you from putting your slides back on.

“Y/N be for real its two in the damn morning you not going home.” You know instantly he’s not playing, you were rarely called by your first name.

“Miles I’m not staying here, I don’t got my tooth brush, face wipes, nothing now let me go” you snatch your hand and now Miles is sitting up completely.

“Who you talking to like that?”

“You and what?” You raise both brows at him. But his face stays neutral. He sucks on his teeth then he’s looking up at you, but its in a way that makes you freeze from hitting request ride.

“I’m not letting my girl go home this late, before you started running your mouth I was bout to tell you, you left your bag here with your stuff and I got you a skill scarf already. You done with the attitude now? I’m tired and need you in my arms sleep so I can sleep.”

Miles can rarely recall what shock looks like on your face. But he fights the urge to yank his phone of the charger so he can capture the way you sit your phone next to his and pull your hoodie off to leave yourself in your tank.

“You ain’t have to get all domestic” you grumble as you sit on the bed and pull your slides and socks off.

“I know baby, my bad. M’ just tired” he mumbles and you feel his hand slide up your back and trail your spine down. You can’t help but take in how tired he does look, how tonight was his one of many rare nights off from work. And so you lean forward and press a kiss to his lips, slow and steady.

“I’m gonna shower real quick love” you whisper against his lips when he finally releases you. And you watch as his eyes slowly droop shut and his arm slides off of you. His breathing slows back down and once he’s asleep you’re walking toward toward the closet picking the duffle up reaching deep inside till you feel the silk of your clothes. Black and red and large white eyes glare at you, reminding you that you have work tonight.

Yiu want to feel bad for putting MIles to sleep, but his peaceful snores are more than enough to take the twang off as you slide the mask over your face ready to set off where you originally meant.

“Black Widow, what’s taking you so long?”

“Sorry sir, ready for tonight’s target.”

And who were you to leave the streets to what men? You don’t think so.

[frogs-crackcorner]

An Angel All My Own P-1

Simon Riley x reader

Cw: fluff, out of character moments, my ADHD really shines through, reader likes older men

Captain John Price has been a family friend for as long as you can remember. He was always a kind man. Ready to chase you around the garden when you were little or throw you into the pool as you got a bit older. He was practically your uncle and fun one at that. He was always coming over to your parents house for weekend dinners and birthday parties. So it only seemed fair to invite him to your house warming party.

You had finally saved up enough money for a modest home in the country. It was on a rather large piece of land, mostly forested with a big clearing around the house. It was a little unnerving at night so you were glad that you weren't too far away from town, only about 15 minutes or so. The house only has three bedrooms but that was plenty for you since you were living alone. It was a cute little house with a spacious kitchen and a wrap around porch. You had started renovations the day you got the keys. You painted the walls, polished the floors, and swept out the fireplace. You took down the old lights and added some rugs. You planned on turning into the perfect cottage.

With your house nearly done, you wanted to invite some friends and family over for a house warming party. You ran into Price as he was leaving your parents and invited him to come too.

"That's fantastic, lass. I don't suppose you mind if I bring my team along? We're shipping out that evening and will be together anyways," he grins.

"Of course not, the more the merrier. It was nice seeing you, John," you chirp back.

"You too, lass. And hey? I'm proud of you." He tips head to you before strolling off to his car.

------------------------------<>------------------------------

The day of the party soon arrived and you were a bit of a mess. You had spent the morning baking cookies and getting things set up. You had set up chairs outside near the fire pit. Fairy lights were strung around the porch. A table with toppings, chips, and drinks was set up near the grill and you had all the burgers prepped. Now all the was missing was the guests.

To your surprise, Price was the first to arrive. You were just setting the cookies on the table when you saw his truck coming down the long driveway. You walked over to greet them as he was parking the truck. John stepped out and gave you a quick hug. "Good to see you, lass. The house looks lovely," he greets. A young man comes around the truck, his skin gold in the light of the sunset. "This is Sargent Garrick," Price says, clapping him on the back, "we just call him Gaz tho."

You hear more car doors slamming and two more men step out of the truck. "And these two muppets are Sargent Mactavish and Ghost," Price introduced. You look over to see a smiling Scotsman and what you can only assume is a mountain in tactical gear. "Mactavish, ma'am. Pleased to meet you. Just call me Soap," the Scot drawled through his thick accent.

"What was that?" Gaz exclaimed.

"Price said I 'ad to 'ave good behavior with the little lass," Soap shouted back. Gaz started to laugh. "And that's your best?," he chuckled, "Sorry bout him. He's used to being a flirt so he's off his game. Nice to meet you, I'm Gaz." He gave you a dazzling smile, shaking your hand. You could feel your cheeks start to heat up.

"Nice to meet you too. All of you," you said shyly. Price shot Gaz a pointed look and Gaz let go of your hand. It appears they had been given strict orders not to flirt with you. It was a little disappointing. They were gorgeous men and didn't seem much older than you. Well, two of them were gorgeous. You weren't entirely sure about the third. He had on a baseball cap and a black surgical mask. Deep brown eyes stared back at you, a little sunken in with dark circles around them. They seemed to pierce your very soul. You drop your gaze and turn back to the other men.

"Well you guys are the first ones here. Feel free to make yourselves at home. I've got everything set up on the side of the house. There are snacks and drinks if you'd like. I just need to grab a few more things from the kitchen," you say, leading them up to the house.

"Let us help," Price offers, "then you can give us a tour of the place."

"Do you guys want a tour?"

"Of course, bonnie. Want to see all the work you've done," Soap chimes in.

You open the front door and let them all inside. "Okay, well, this is the living room. I restored the wood floors, upstairs and downstairs. I took out the overhead lights and added wall lamps instead. Most of the decorations I found at a vintage market and I made the rest."

"Here in the kitchen, I redid the tile. The old tile was chipping for some reason. I took out the old white sink and installed this copper one. Oh, I completely redid the porch. A lot of the old wood was rotting. You can see the string lights I added," you say, pointing out the kitchen window. As you do, you notice two more cars coming down the driveway.

"The guest and master bedroom are upstairs. The office and bathroom are just down the hall to the right. I would show you the rest but more guests are arriving and I still have a few things to get done," you finish, picking up a bowl of salad from the counter.

"What can I do? Have you started up the grill?" Price asks.

"Not yet. Would you mind doing it?," you reply.

"Not at all. Gaz! Mactavish! Help the little lady take the rest of the food out," he calls, his voice commanding.

Soap and Gaz turn from their spot in the conjoining dining room.

"Right Captain. What would you like me to take?," Gaz asks.

"If you wouldn't mind taking the burgers and ribs out. And Soap if you could grab the napkins right there," you directed. "Oh I forgot about the ice." You begin shifting the items in your hands around to be able to grab the ice. Suddenly, wordlessly, Ghost is taking the bowl of salad from you and following the others out the kitchen door. His giant frame seemed out of place in your quaint home. His large black silhouette a stark contrast to the usual green and gold of the kitchen.

Although he was mountainous and rather intimidating, there seemed to be something else in his eyes. He almost looked lost. Sort of sad. He was calculating but not callous. He seemed to be on edge, not because he was inherently violent but because he was forced to be. You supposed it was all too common in their line of work. No one has ever told you details of what John Price and his team did for work but you knew they were military. You weren't a child anymore, you knew the horrors of this world. You couldnt even imagine the things these men must have seen.

You shook yourself out of your thoughts and went to greet the rest of the guests. Price has fired up the grill and was putting burgers on. The smell of smoke and summer grass hung heavy in the air. Guests milled around and chatted, several of them congratulating you on your new home. Your mother gave you a hug and told you how proud she was.

The night moved on without a hitch and soon most of the guests had gone home. You began throwing away the used cups and paper plates. "I got the grill all cleaned up for you lass," Price says, dusting off his hands.

"Thank you, you really didn't have to," you remarked.

"I know but it was the least I could do. We've got to get going, we have a plane to catch. Come on boys! Let's pack it out," he shouts.

"That's right! You're leaving. Hold on. Stay here," you urge, rushing into the house. You return with a brown box tied with twine. "Here. Thought you guys might want some treats for the trip," you offer. He takes the box from you.

"Thank you, lass. Though I don't expect these to last long, those muppets will have them eaten in the blink of an eye," Price smiles. Just then, Soap came running up.

"What's in the box then?," he asks.

"Nothing you can have right now. Get in the truck," Price chides. He's such a dad, you think to yourself. Soap slumps dramatically before giving you a cheeky grin.

"Lovely to meet you, bonnie. Hope to see you again soon," he smiles, kissing the top of your hand before jogging off to the truck. Price scowls at him as he disappears. Gaz and Ghost join you and price on the front lawn.

"Goodbye, love. It was wonderful to meet you," Gaz purred.

"You as well, Garrick," you tease. He gives you a quick wink before heading to the truck as well. Ghost goes to follow him before stopping and turning back to you. "Thank you," he mutters, his voice a deep rumble.

"Of course. You're welcome here anytime," you stutter.

As you watched them pile in and drive away, you had no idea how literally Ghost would take that offer.

(Let me know how you feel about the first part and any ideas you have, I'd love to hear your feedback)

[sparklingcid3r]

The words were out, hanging in dead space between them. So cruel and violent. Pony wished he could take them back, but no retraction would ever repair the damage he’d caused.

Something in Darry must have died that night. Or maybe Ponyboy had finally killed what little was left of him, and snuffed out any chance he had of getting his relationship with his big brother back.

In which words sometimes speak much, much louder than actions.

-

Pony always thought that Darry would be the one to cross the line first. Pony knew how to put a cork over his fury; tasting copper was better than a verbal beatdown. Biting his tongue was one of the few things Pony was better at than his brother.

But he really ought to have known, with his nose constantly shoved in a book and all that. With enough pressure, every dam will break.

Darry’s eyes glittered like ice as he stood from the recliner, his arms folded. Soda was there, too, though he stayed curled up on the couch, letting Darry play bad guy.

“Where the hell have you been, Ponyboy? Curfew was two hours ago.”

Pony was tired. He wasn’t in the mood, so he kept his gaze low. “You guys didn’t have to wait up. I was fine.”

“How are we supposed to know that? You didn’t tell us about your plans after school, you didn’t call, nothing. When you don’t show up, what are we supposed to think?”

He shrugged. “I don’t gotta share everything with you.”

Darry thought that was a hoot. Pony could tell by the mean scowl on his face as he said it.

“So long as you keep your nose outta trouble, you know I don’t care what you do.” That was true. After the accident, Darry could have been a lot worse. By all means, he should have been. A lot had changed in their family, he supposed, and Darry was trying out a few new tactics.

He ran roughshod over Pony’s retort before he could make it. “You didn’t even think to tell me you’d be out late, so here we are, making sure our kid brother ain’t been left for dead somewhere, worrying our asses off, just for you to walk in, right as rain.”

Somewhere along the way, Soda ceased to exist in their world. He couldn’t have said when.

“Glory, Darry, are you happy to see me or not?” Pony snapped. “Make up your damn mind!”

“Happy?” Darry scoffed. “Yeah, I sure am happy you think the rules we have in this house, under my roof, don’t apply to you.”

“I ain’t saying that—“

“Then what are you sayin’? ‘Cause all I been hearin’ is a load of bull.”

Darry was getting real mad. He liked keeping his southern twang on the down low—Pony figured it had something to do with his bitterness over not getting the hell out of Tulsa—but it flared up when he got all riled.

Pony knew he should throw in the towel and just start appeasing, but the tiniest spark of indignation lit a whole fuse in his chest, and suddenly he was hollering right back.

“I don’t gotta tell you anything, you said so yourself! I wasn’t doing nothing wrong, so what if I show up an hour or two late? I’m here, aren’t I?” And it felt real good seeing, even for a second, the startle in Darry’s face, that his pathetic little brother could spit fire right back. “All you do is holler my ears off, day and night. Lay off already!”

Darry recovered so quick that if Pony had blinked, he’d have missed that sweet moment altogether. “You better watch that tone, Ponyboy, or so help me God.”

“Naw, you don’t go pulling this with Soda. Why does he get to do hell all without no permission?”

“Because Sodapop’s pulling his damn weight around here, helping me pay our bills and for our groceries. And this is how you repay us, by sneaking around past curfew and letting me think some Socs got their hands on you.”

Pony never wanted to do to Darry what he thought the Socs would do more than in that moment. He wanted to wrap his knuckles and sock his brother in the mouth, see how he liked it being someone else’s punching bag. Using Soda like that was a low blow.

Of course, he was about as capable of hurting Darry as a fly was against a bear, but his chest is too hot and tight to consider retreating now.

“If money’s all you care about, I’ll drop outta school and get a job. How’s that sound?”

“Don’t you go even entertainin’ that thought.”

“Then don’t you go dragging Soda into this!”

“Why shouldn’t I? You’re killin’ us, Ponyboy! That’s all you been tryna do lately, send us both to an early grave!”

“You wanna talk about graves? Mom and Dad are gone and all you’ve been doing is tryna replace them, but you ain’t even good at pretending to know what you’re doing!”

Shame was already boiling in the pits of his stomach, but his anger blinded him. The best he could do was turn his back and flee.

Darry caught Pony by his bicep. His grip was tight, and Pony’s first thought was that he was about to be tossed into the couch. “Don’t you dare pull that shit on me, Ponyboy Michael, using them against me—“

Pony wrenched his arm free and whirled on his heels, smacking Darry’s hand with a snarl carved out of his face. He pointed an accusing finger and let his fury loose in the worst way he could think of:

“I wish you had died instead!”

Time froze. His hand wasn’t quick enough to cage the monstrous words back into his mouth. They were acidic and would have burned on the way back down, but he would have preferred it.

Even Soda, watching from a distance, was stunned into abject silence, his lips parted and his chest heaving up and down, yet he made no sounds.

That was all it took. Not a clenched fist adorned with sharp rings or a heater packing back to back rounds. Six words laced with vitriol from the mouth of his kid brother, and Darrel Curtis buckled.

What did Pony say next? Should he speak at all? He peered through Darry’s glassy eyes and saw the fresh devastation they harbored within. Where he saw it most, though, was where it did not show itself at all. Darry’s hands were loose at his sides, unfurled and calm. He was perfectly still, not even harsh pocketfuls of air shaking his shoulders as they so typically did. Save for his shuttering expression—a coldness steadily fought for the place of raw hurt—Darry was just a body stood upright.

“Darry, I…” Ponyboy‘s rasp was wet and quivering. He felt the heat of shame and tears on his face, burning his ears and behind his eyes. The words shriveled up when they reached the cusp of his tightening throat.

Sodapop tried to intervene. His hand went up as if to brush Darry’s arm, but he thought better and settled on hovering just above.

“Hey, Dar—“

“Go,” said Darry, strained. “You have school tomorrow. Go to bed, Ponyboy.”

Pony nodded immediately, but Darry was the first to retreat. He pulled away from Soda. Pony staggered back to let him through, and he was spared no glance in the aftermath, not that he deserved it. He didn’t deserve any of what Darry had spent the past two months giving him, or anything that came after.

It was only a matter of time before Darry hated him for it, and he was pretty sure he just set that process on a fast track to fruition.

[fruitcoops]

Clean Slate

Ah, the passage of time. If anyone has been here since the first phone call, you may be entitled to financial compensation (or an AARP membership). Character credit goes to @lumosinlove <3

“Reg?”

On the first ring, as always. “Hey.”

“…hi?”

“I was thinking about going back to Gryff for Christmas.”

“Oh.” Surprise, but pleasant surprise. Regulus shook his pan of sausage. “Yeah, sounds good. You always have a room here. Or were you staying with the cubs?”

“With you.” He stretched his neck from side-to-side. Tension bled out of his forehead and shoulders at the familiar roll of French on his tongue. “If that’s okay.”

“Always,” Sirius answered immediately, almost hasty. Regulus wasn’t sure they’d ever get past that. Ah, well. The damage was done.

The line remained quiet for a moment. Sausage sizzled, and he turned to the pile of green beans on the cutting board. Leo had taught him how to snap the ends off with his fingernails, and though he was better now about not chewing them to the quick, he still didn’t like the feeling of stuff stuck beneath them. Regulus had really only called to clarify plans.

“How—how are your friends?”

“Good.” Sirius liked to talk, even if he wasn’t very good at it. “Jax and Kris set up the living room last night.”

“Do they still have that stupid poster?”

Regulus snorted under his breath and carefully sliced the tip off another bean. “They tried to hang it in the window.”

Sirius groaned.

Regulus grinned. He supposed he could have a little mercy. “Don’t worry, it’s under my bed.”

“Somehow, that’s worse.”

“I can’t get rid of it. It’s their favorite possession. They have a thing for your long hair and the murder face. Jax is still waiting for the day you spontaneously get divorced and need a hot young college student to rebound.”

He wasn’t sure whether the gagging sound Sirius made was real or exaggerated. As long as he was in mild torment, Regulus was happy. A simple, ever-amusing perk of long-distance communication.

“I hope your classmates are less in tune with pop culture.”

“Hockey, yes. Pop culture, no.” Regulus eyed the pan, then added another knob of butter to be safe. There was nothing worse than a burnt vegetable. “And my classes are going well, thank you for asking.”

“You’re welcome.”

He rolled his eyes. It didn’t matter that Sirius couldn’t see it; the message would certainly get through.

“Don’t make that face at me.”

“I’m not making a face.”

“You always make faces.”

Regulus stuck his tongue out at the microwave above the stove.

“I can feel you doing it again.”

“That was a different one. I’m taking physics 3 this year and it’s making me want to eat a doorknob already.”

“You’re anemic enough that it would probably help.”

“I take my supplements!” Regulus argued, shaking his pan. “Not my fault we were force-fed protein in fucking sun-less Canada.”

“We had sun, you just never went outside,” Sirius countered, like it was some sort of argument. “I don’t have to take supplements.”

“Well, you’re perfect and bulletproof, as everyone knows.”

“Exactly.”

Regulus angled his face at the dark phone screen when he pulled a face this time. It was a good one. Pity that Sirius couldn’t see it. He should’ve gone for FaceTime.

“Are you starting a fire?”

“I’m making dinner.”

“So…yes?”

“Not all of us have a home cook.”

“I can cook now.”

“Oh, you’ve been housebroken.” Regulus blew out a mouthful of steam as he tested a piece of sausage. “How thrilling for Lupin.”

“You’re such an asshole.”

“Takes one to know one. I learned that last week.”

He could feel Sirius shaking his head. “Knutty is formally banned from teaching you new slang.”

“You’ve never said ‘no’ to him in his entire career.” Regulus let the line hang silent for another half-minute as he turned the burner off and began scraping his dinner into a bowl. It still bore a faint orange tinge from last year’s finals-week spaghetti run. He fished a piece of pasta out of the water and popped it in his mouth, grimacing at the heat on his tongue. It was cooked well enough—at least, he was hungry enough to forgive a more al dente texture.

“By the way,” he started, as if his stomach wasn’t stuttering. “I think I’ll be back in time for family skate.”

The shuffling sounds on Sirius’ end came to an abrupt halt. “That’s nice,” came the faux-casual answer.

Anxiety made a valiant effort to claw up and silence his tongue. “I was thinking about going.”

“Well,” Sirius began, then paused. Regulus swallowed a few times to clear the block in his throat while Sirius pondered. “I—yeah, sounds good.”

“I want to.”

“Good.” Sirius’ relief was audible. “Okay, good. You can change your mind.”

“Don’t be weird about it,” Regulus ordered as he toed his slippers on and made his way to the apartment’s tiny coffee table. They’d get chairs at some point, but for now three pillows sat on the floor beside it.

“I’m never weird.”

“Boo, liar.”

“Freak.”

“I’m telling Lupin.”

“Do it. He likes me better. I can cook.”

“I’m—” Regulus caught himself at the last second and felt Sirius’ breath hitch on the other end of the line in anticipation. “—not joking, I actually want to go and play stupid ice fetch with your irritating friends, and nobody is making me feel pressured.”

“Okay.”

“Don’t sound so…” He wrinkled his nose and stuffed a mouthful of pasta into his mouth. “Smiley.”

“It’ll be good to have you home.”

“If you’re weird, I’m staying with Leo,” Regulus threatened. “For real, this time.”

“Right, because you love being around people who are engaged and anywhere near a holiday, or mistletoe, or the magic of Christmas—”

His loud groan silenced Sirius’ words, but not his laughter. “Get your laughs in now, before I whoop your ass on the ice.”

“Would love to see you try.”

“Don’t sound so thrilled.”

“Everyone else is going to underestimate you. I won’t be nice like that.”

“You’re never nice,” Regulus lied.

Sirius let him eat in peace until he was scraping the last bits of cheese from the bottom of the bowl. He heard the faint beeping of the dishwasher buttons in the background and glanced at his own sink, nearly overflowing with haphazard dishes from the first chaotic weeks of their senior year. The apartment was a pleasant change from living on campus, such as it was. Jax and Kris had offered to pay rent—tried to strongarm him, really—but a few withering looks had finally made them relent. It wasn’t anything fancy, but it was his. Theirs.

The string lights lining the ceiling weren’t strictly allowed, but Regulus liked their gentle blue cast. The blanket Remus and Sirius had sent as a housewarming gift sat cozily on the back of their couch. Curtains from Jax’s mother let in just the right amount of light in the mornings.

“Call me if you need anything, okay?”

The sound of Sirius’ voice in his earbuds startled him. “Yeah,” Regulus said. “Yeah, sure.”

“Even for laundry.” Sirius tried for wry, and it made Regulus crack a small smile, but it was gentler than either of them intended. “Don’t shrink your clothes. Check the tags.”

Always do, he thought, but kept it down. “Good advice. No centipedes here, yet.”

Sirius’ laugh was a little weak. “You’re just not looking hard enough.”

“Eugh, don’t say that.” Regulus blinked fast, tipping his head toward the ceiling. “Hey, this washer even has a ‘normal’ setting, if you can believe it.”

“Oh, wow. Lucky you.”

Picking up the phone on the first ring, always. For four years straight. “I’ll see you at Christmas.”

“We can come up in October, if you want.”

Of course Sirius had the academic calendar on-hand. “I’ll be gone that weekend with the guys. We didn’t want to be around all the new parents. They’re very damp.”

“And you melt when water touches you, of course.”

“Of course.”

Sirius let out a quiet breath. “See you at Christmas, Reg. Call me when you have flights.”

“Mhm.”

“Stay safe.”

“Always do.”

“No, you don’t.”

“I do here,” he corrected.

“Fine.”

“Miss you.” The streetlights down the road were just starting to come on. “Say hi to Lupin for me.”

“He’s in the other room,” Sirius offered. “You can say it yourself.”

“I’ll talk to you both enough at Christmas.”

“Call any time. And let us know when you hear back about graduation tickets.”

What a terrifying thought to leave for the end of the call. “I’ll forward it to you.”

“I’ll keep an eye out.”

“Okay. Bye.” And before he could second-guess himself—“I’ll be home soon.”

“Don’t talk to strangers,” Sirius answered. Regulus heard the truth under it. “And do your laundry.”