#this is what i was working on before on thin ice took over my life

[blairamok]

y’all seem to like my language of flowers tattooed botanist crowley so here he is being a total dirt gremlin. catch him squatting in the garden whispering terrible things to weeds

[amoristt]

closer

「 ✦ thanos / reader / nam-gyu ✦ 」 tags: smut MDNI // afab! reader, DP, mild drxg use, like super mild, no plot lol, light coercion but reader is into it

a/n: when is it my turn im barkingggg i want them so bad theyre gonna have to burn me off w a lighter the way im biting word count: 9.5

・❥・Never in your life had you felt so grateful for something as simple as lukewarm water. Fuck, any water at all that wasn’t ice cold felt like a luxury- your palms collecting the clear liquid before tossing it up to your face. The splashes only offer so much, it’s awkward to bend over the sink to wash yourself, but it’s better than nothing given there don’t seem to be any readily available showers. 

Paper towels make shitty loofahs. The hand soap isn’t exactly your favorite fragrance ever. Your tracksuit and t-shirt are slung over a stalls door, and you’re craning your entire spine forward just to wash your upper half. The last game had been so strenuous- you were sure you absolutely reeked. 

Man, you miss your shower. If you make it home, you’re going to spend most of the rest of your life under as hot of water as you could get, you think. The ultimate pick-me-up.

Speaking of pick-me-up’s, you wonder if Thanos's would be a kind enough soul to let you bum off some more of this muscle relaxants. You had no idea what the things were, but holy shit, did it knock you off your ass the last time. It was like being made entirely of lead. Every time you shifted positions, you fell into an even comfier spot, the thin mattresses offered to you suddenly about as comfortable as a kings. 

You could use some good sleep right about now. Sore, exhausted, and more high-strung than you cared to admit. Thanos and Nam-gyu were always entertaining enough to take some of the edge off. Even when your lives were on the line, they made it hard to take anything too serious at all at all. Or maybe that was the drugs- either way, you were appreciative of their company. Who better to hang around with than friends, right? Long before the games, before you all became a trio of sorts, you’d met them both a handful of times, only when your friend groups would clash because a few people knew a few people who knew a few people. 

Thanos was always the center of attention, but he was never outright unkind to you. Notably, he was always particularly focused on you when you were in a giggly mood. You would laugh at all his jokes, even the shitty ones, with a drink in hand. He ate it up- worked overtime to keep you around- you made him feel like he was the funniest man alive. 

Nam-gyu worked at the club you both frequented at and he came to be as equally as interested in your friend. He hung around your table, they chatted endlessly on about some online currency thing most times, and you’d zone out all too easily. Other times, your favorite times, Nam-gyu would sneak you all into a private lounge and share some of his spoils he’d come across. They took drugs like water, you always chose the bottle, instead. 

Friday’s would blur into sunday evenings before you could even really get a grapple on what was going on. You’d wake up in hotel rooms with them both strewn about, sleeping in all sorts of positions. It was fun. It was really fun, in a wreckless, manic type of way. You never understood why they kept you around, but you didn’t question it, either. Why question when you could just enjoy. Why question when you could just enjoy?

When you’d found them among the crowd on day one, it was like the planets had realigned. Actually, you hadn’t even been the first to notice. You just heard your name shouted over the crowd and suddenly someone was slamming into you hard enough to knock the air from your lungs. A blur of purple hair and green tracksuits. 

You aren’t sure you’d have made it as far as you had if not for your buddies. You try not to think about it too much- you’d hate to ruin your own vibe as lives come to end all around you. It was the first time you’d ever taken something from Thanos- a muscle relaxant that really took the anxieties away. 

Dipping your head into the sink and rinsing your face once more, you don’t bother looking up when you hear the door push open and then click shut. You’re too focused on how the water is warm enough, and you don’t stink to the high heavens any longer. 

A man’s voice cuts through the silence, echoes off the tile walls. 

“Woah.” 

You rip your head from the sink so fast it almost nails the faucet on your way up, alarm flashing through you, arms coming to cover your chest only clad in your bra. When you manage to process the not only one, but two men standing before you, you feel anger bubbling in your chest. 

Low and behold, speak of the devils. 

“What the fuck!” You hiss, tightening your arms around your chest. 

Thanos’s hands are tucked into his pockets casually, and he looks around the bathroom with his brows raised, like he wasn’t sure what to expect out of the women's bathroom. Nam-gyu tails him but passes by after offering you a snarky grin. In your relief that you knew the two souls invading your space, you almost forgot the fact that you were naked from the waist up. 

“You seriously scared the hell out of me.”

“Sorry,” Thanos hummed, putting his hands up to his chest mockingly. He moves like he’s light on air, but his eyes never leave you. 

You turn on your heel and grab your shirt from its spot over the stall door, throwing it on quickly. In the mirror, you don’t miss the way Thanos’s eyes drink you in, but you do miss the way Nam-gyu is almost seeming to scout the girls room, checking under the doors and pushing stalls open. 

“What are you guys doing in here? Aren’t you worried about getting in trouble.”

Thanos scoffs. “Trouble. It was crazy boring out there.”

Nam-gyu sighs dramatically, snaking up beside the taller male. “And you’ve been in here forever. We thought maybe something happened to our buddy.”

You actually laugh at that. He’s said that before- and this isn’t the first time your friends have barged into the women's bathroom in search of you. Usually at clubs, they’d be pushed and shoved out by other women, but right now there’s no one to chastise them for being irritants. 

“My heroes. I’m definitely doing fine. Buuut…” You trail off in a hum, eyeing your purple haired friend. He raises a brow again. “You got more of what you had me take? Not the crazy shit, obviously, whatever the white one was from the other night.”

“Why? You stressed?” He rocks back and forth on his heels, shoving his hands into his pockets. You can’t help but stare at him, incredulous. 

“Yeah, I’m stressed. All this game shit is starting to get under my skin.”

“Yo, you’re not voting no are you?” Gam-gyu is already touching you. So clingy, all the time, thin fingers petting and pressing on your shoulders any chance he could get. At any point it seemed like he was tugging on you from somewhere. 

“No, I’m just saying I could use some relief.”

He slips behind you, hands on your shoulders. Your friends are trading looks that you can’t quite place, this unspoken vibe that you’re clearly not tuned into. Something thicker settles between all three of you, as does your confusion. They were up to something- you knew it. You knew them like the back of your hand. 

Thanos is jostling the necklace around to sort through all the colors. Eventually he settles on one and he hands it over. The entire time he’s searching for it, Nam-gyu is still standing along your back, the heat of him palpable. Consistent. He’s always exuded heat like a furnace.

Thanos pulls his necklace from his shirt and pops the cross shaped case open. Plucking out a small white pill, he eyes it before flashing it in your vision. You brighten up at the sight, but he’s quick to take a step back when you reach out. 

“What is it?”

“Hm… I’m just thinking. You know, I give you a couple of these, but what do I get in return?” 

That stops you, your eyes narrowing just enough to notice, subtle suspicion settling over your features. 

“Uh… What do you want, I guess…?”

Thanos eyes glance around the room as he thinks, before they settle on you. They’re different. A bit darker, a flame of mischievousness to those irises. Not a look you’ve never seen before, but certainly not a look you expected to be directed at you of all people. 

“How about… a kiss.”

There you go, laughing again. Now that was certainly a first. When you have your little giggle and straighten back up, you see that Thanos doesn’t find his request even slightly as funny as you do. He’s staring at you with his expression of expectancy, so much so that it makes you raise a brow. 

“For real?”

He jingles his necklace, the pills rattling around audibly. There’s no way he’s serious. But he looks serious. He was a flirt to his very core, you knew that a fact to be true, but ever since you’d left the ‘cutie in his friend group’ category and slipped into the boundaries of being his genuine friend, he hadn’t made any advances. 

Maybe this was some sort of test, because he’s still not budging. If he is serious, well… You can’t exactly say you’d mind a little peck. He was handsome- they both were. With cool, untouchable attitudes to match. Fun, fun, fun, and the rare times they had to look out for you, they were as reliable as concrete. 

If you hadn’t developed such a bond with them- not quite something like siblings, but not of lesser importance either, you’d have been all over the idea. Now you have to put thought into it, tread more carefully than you’d like. 

You decide, though, fuck it. If he’s to be the fisher, then suppose you’ll be the fish that bites.

“Sure. Why not.”

They both trade looks again. Quick, only in a flash, but you catch it. Nam-gyu’s thumbs rub circles into your skin through the thin fabric of your t-shirt and for some reason it makes your breath catch in your chest. There’s a strange energy about them. Something charged, determined. Every move is calculated with some end goal in their minds. 

“Here.” 

A strange pang of disappointment rings through you, though, when Thanos plants the little pill in your palm- you had kinda hoped he’d kiss you, after all. But oh well. You knew he was just clowning around- he always was. You always had turned his meaningless flirts down, maybe he was trying to see what you’d do in the name of drugs, or something like that. You feel prickly heat on your cheeks- embarrassment. 

You wish you had turned him down now, too, kind of feeling like an idiot. 

The pill is just as bitter on your tongue now as it had been the first time, a grimace playing over your lips as the texture bursts into a gritty chalk-like powder dancing over your tastebuds. You had about five minutes before it’d start kicking in. 

“Jesus, that taste is so fucking na-”

You’re cut off by Thanos pressing his lips firmly against your own. It’s sudden, it’s intrusive. His hand is firmly cupping your jaw and the other is resting on the pulse of your neck. It pushes you back against Nam-gyu roughly, and his hands come to grasp at your forearms from behind you, continuing to rub circles into your skin. Your own hands come up instinctively, planting on Thanos’s shoulders. 

There’s heat flooding your cheeks, heat flooding down to your chest and out to your ears. Worsened, a flame so fiery hot it scorches, when Thanos tilts his head to deepen the kiss even further, his hands keeping you flush against him. Nam-gyu’s sliding his hands from your arms down to the curve of your waist, feeling the shape of you through your t-shirt. You shiver, electricity rippling up and down your spine in body shivering shudders. 

When Thanos splits from you, your mind reeling, there’s fingers replacing his grip on your jaw almost immediately, making you face over your shoulder. Another set of lips overtake yours, tongue lapping into your parted lips, pushy and demanding. Thanos’s kiss wasn't especially apprehensive, but it wasn’t like this. Nam-gyu kisses you like he owns you, fervent and sloppy and noisy.

There’s a string of spit bridging you when he pulls away, watches you gape at him, breathless and flushed. You’re stammering, unsure of what to say next. 

“What- what the fuck-”

“You are so beautiful.” Thanos interrupts again you by running a hand through your hair, nails gently scratching along your scalp. It’s not the first time he’s ever said it, but there’s something different now. Passionate. Like he really means it this time, and not some off-handed flirt that was easy to swat away. 

You’re blushing a raging red, your heart pounding in your chest- you don’t know what to do with your hands anymore. He takes them for you in his own, long fingers stroking over your knuckles before he dragged your right hand up to his lips and places kisses along your knuckles. Over the top, up your wrist. Up to your forearm and then only stopping when your t-shirt blocked away your smooth skin. Nam-gyu brushes hair from your neck and buries his face into the cradle of you, breathes you in, his hands still squeezing gently on your hips. 

“What’s going on…?” You chirp, eyes falling half lidded.

“You tell us.” Nam-gyu murmurs against you, hot breath ghosting over your skin, and you shiver in, you realize, pure delight. You feel a weight start to settle in your cheeks, your head starting to feel just a little bit heavier than before to hold up on your neck. 

The drugs are kicking in just in time, your shoulders slumping, a content sigh leaving your lips. Opening yourself up to them, head lolling to the side to give Nam-gyu more of your collar. He takes, greedy, excited, and presses a smile into your jugular. 

This was calculated. This was planned. And fuck, it’s working. 

“I don’t know.” You say. But you do know. And you know you’re clearly enjoying it- already wet between your legs and feeling the roll of anticipation settle in your belly. 

The anxieties start to ebb away, and Thanos is watching your every micro expression with blown pupils. You watch him from under your thick lashes, lips swollen, your breath leaving you in shallow pants. It beckons him, draws him in for another kiss. 

Thanos is the one who finally decides to stop beating around the bush. He breaks your second kiss to touch your face, one hand caressing down your cheeks, the other brushing stray strands of hair away from your eyes. He’s beautiful- he’s always been beautiful. 

“You want more?”

You swallow. “Drugs? Or…”

He traces his thumb over your lower lip. “...Or.”

Yes, you do. Fuck yes. But for some reason you can’t say it outloud- this weird, nagging feeling that surely comes from some insecurities buried among the skeletons in your closet, that this is all some cruel prank. That if you say yes, really give in to them, they’ll leave you high and dry, laughing all the way back to their beds outside. You’d never live it down. It would change everything. 

“...Are you being serious���?” You have to ask, even if you’re so wet it’s uncomfortable, clenching on nothing when strikes of need course through you. 

There is no laughter. Just excited, aroused breathing all around in the silence. Nam-gyu squeezes you once more, fingers pressing into your skin through your clothes that are suddenly much, much too warm to be under. 

“Seriously.” Thanos murmurs, and then he finds your lips again. Kisses exhilaration into you like a drug of its very own. You let him in, lean forward and hum a sweet little sound into his mouth. He pulls back again, and there’s those expectant eyes again. He’s being genuine, they both are, their hands and their eyes and their mouths unable to leave you for even a moment. 

“Let’s have some fun, yeah?” Nam-gyu breathes, and you shiver. His fingers dip below the thin fabric of your t-shirt, barely brushing his calloused fingers over your skin, and it’s enough to light you up with goosebumps and desire. You can feel your heartbeat throughout your entire body now, from your head all the way down to your aching cunt. 

Yeah. Let’s have some fun. 

The moment you nod, it’s the green light they’d been waiting for- hoping for. 

Your shirt is gone in a matter of seconds, Thanos making quick work to pull it over your head and toss it over the wall of the nearest stall. Before you even get the chance to cover yourself, exposed in the bathroom before them all over again, you’re being walked backwards, pushed gently by the front when Thanos kisses you fervently- like he can’t get enough of you. Like everytime he breaks away he’s just waiting for his chance to find your lips again. You’re sore with him, kiss-drunk and willing. The world disappears behind the stall, and all else disappears except for them. 

Nam-gyu backs up to the wall, keeps you in front of him, sandwiched between their bodies. His hand slips under your bra and he kneads your breast with one hand, the other wrapping around your waist, keeping you pinned against his warm, warm body. When his thumb flicks over your nipple, you jump with a sharp gasp. Thanos groans an equally as delighted sound against you, doesn’t let up, doesn’t give you the chance to have second thoughts. 

Gentle pinches and tugs make you whimper, forced to break Thanos’s kiss when you’re overwhelmed with the need for air. You suck in greedy breaths, a sound that raises into a high keen when there’s suddenly pressure flattened right where you needed it between your legs. Thanos’s palm is grinding against your sex through your sweats, your hands clutching against his jacket in need of purchase. 

“I knew you’d sound cute.” Nam-gyu harps, grinning into your hair. 

You wonder when they’d planned this. Initially you had figured it was a fuck it, why not scenario- after all, tomorrow wasn’t guaranteed. But the little comments like that, like this was something they’d thought about before, tells you otherwise. It makes you even hotter. Fuck, if you had known, you would have been on it. Especially if it felt like this. 

Your head tips back, resting against Nam-gyu’s shoulder, and he makes quick work of nipping at your throat. Thanos is all kisses, but you’re finding the other male is mostly teeth, biting and grazing along the sensitive flesh of your neck. Thanos adds just a bit of pressure, just enough to make you moan again, the sound like music to their waiting ears. You’re quickly dissolving into a squirming mess of sultry cries and ember-hot skin. 

Your bra is next up on the chopping block. It’s actually shocking it’s taken this long, Nam-gyu growing impatient with the idea of touching, but not seeing. When it’s pulled away, the cold air meets you, makes you shiver, exposed. Now it’s getting real- you’re entirely bare from the waist up, panting in front of them like a present begging to be unwrapped. 

“So fucking hot,” Thanos coos, feeling you, bouncing between catching your sensitive nipples in his fingers and easing his palm against your sex. You need more- you’re so wet you’re sure he can feel it through your clothes, now, hips rocking, begging for more. He drops to his knees in front of you.

“Woah-” You clam up, tensing, and Nam-gyu lifts his head so he could see what your sudden fuss was about. Thanos freezes, his fingers caught and hooking over your sweats. You swallow hard and squirm. “I mean- You don’t have to do that.”

“You don’t… Want me to?” He’s actually taken aback that you’re stopping him, clearly worried about cold feet coming into the picture. You stammer again.

“Well-, Not like, I don’t want you to, but that’s… I don’t know.”

He leans back on his heels, tilting his head. “So you do want me to.”

You’re under the spotlight, frozen, floundering. They’re exchanging glances from over your shoulder. Fuck- you don’t want this to stop but you’re nervous at the thought of him eating you out. You force out, “I-I just- I’m embarrassed.”

Thanos gapes at you. “Embarrassed?”

You can’t bear to look at him in the eyes anymore, nerves getting the better of you. 

Fuck, you want more drugs. Anything to get away from this random bout of insecurities that seemed to jump you out of the blue. Or maybe it was the sobering reality that was your good, good friend about to be face to face with your cunt. 

Nam-gyu drags his hands along your sides, makes you shiver, before they settle on your breasts again. He grasps you, rolls your sensitive buds between his fingers. He’s trying to break you out of your funk, you know it, and it’s starting to work. Reminding you how good this feels, how they’ve been all over you like drooling hounds to scent from the moment you’d invited them into yourself. 

“Don’t be shy, c’mon.” He whispers in your ear. You’re inclined to listen, even if it takes a few extra beats of silence. 

“Okay.”

Thanos’s eyes light up. He leans forward. “Okay?”

“Okay.”

He’s quick to drag your pants down, takes great care to bring your underwear with them, into a pool around your ankles before tugging them away all together. When you lift your left leg to step out, he catches you by the thigh and hikes it over his shoulder, your other leg supporting your weight. You’re spread open and he’s eyeing your sex like a wolf eyes a cornered rabbit. Hungry, primal. He doesn't let you develop those worries this time, wastes no time before butting his tongue up against your slit and licking a broad, deep stripe. 

A high, blissful sound escapes your lips. Something like a mewl, but from somewhere deep in your chest. It’s lewd, it’s downright pornographic, and it’s making Nam-gyu groan into your neck while Thanos’s eyes slip shut. Every lick makes you jump, every prod of his tongue against your lonely clit a cause for squirming. If Nam-gyu’s arm wasn’t wrapped around your waist, crushing you against him, you would have crumbled into a heaping mess. 

“God, you’re such a fucking babe.” He murmurs in your ear, a taunt to his tone. “You’ve wanted this bad, huh?”

You did want it. You wanted it so bad that you’re already dripping with your own slick, Thanos devours you like the finest of fruit. He’s ravenous, hungry, sucking on your clit and spreading you open with his fingers until all you can do is wheeze out sharp cries. You can’t do anything to slow him down, urge him deeper, stuck in place and expected to do nothing else but let them have you. 

“Look at that,” Nam-gyu’s voice again in your ear, you can hear his grin. “You're soaking his face already.”

It’s too much. You can’t lock eyes with him- you can barely even stand the sight of him buried between your legs on its own, let alone locking eyes when he's making all these obscene, salacious sounds, drunk on your slick. But then the male behind you grabs your chin and he makes you look and he whispers dirty, downright bawdy things in your ear that make you shake in his unrelenting grip.

When Thanos’s eyes flick up to find yours, you whine and bury your hand in his hair. He moans against you, letting his eyes fall shut again, reveling in the way you tugged and clawed. You’re covered by them, covered by hands and kisses, losing any and all sense of prudence. These wanton, needy sounds are slipping past your lips and you can’t seem to stop them. It’s all so good, pleasure from every angle. 

Your orgasm is quiet, but it rocks you to your very core. This rippling, climbing tantamount of pleasure that bursts into fiery roars of euphoria fluttering under your skin. Head tossed back against Nam-gyu’s shoulder, scrabbling for purchase on his arm around your waist, you cum and cum and cum until it feels like you’re never going to find your way back down. 

If you’d been soaked before, you were downright drenched now, and Thanos couldn’t have been happier. He’s greedy, clutches your twitching hips so you can’t jump away from his mouth when he drinks you in until you’re writhing to get away from it. When he finally pulls away, he laps another wet kiss onto your clit for good measure, and then another for the road. And then one more, one more just for good luck. 

“Holy shit,” Nam-gyu chuckles against your hair. “Fuck, that was so hot.”

Thanos kisses up from your thighs to your abdomen, up to your breasts, where he finds his mouth busy once more latching onto a nipple and earning another bout of whimpers. You lurch back, wiggly and restless, but you can’t go anywhere else. You’re trapped, cornered. It’s perfect.

You’re suddenly hoisted into the air, hands gripping into your thighs and ass. Your back presses weight against Nam-gyu’s front, and instinctively, you wrap your legs around Thanos’s waist for support. They’ve got you sandwiched in between their bodies even more now, your weight entirely supported by their grasps, the soft fabric of their tracksuits brushing against you with every shift. Occasionally, there’s a sharp chill of cold along your back, the zipper brushing against your heated skin. 

There’s a quiet, rustling of fabric that reaches your ears over the incessant pounding of your heart rate, and when you look, you feel your stomach roll. Thanos is shimmying his pants down to his mid thighs, and you watch with eager eyes as his cock springs free from its confines. His tip is red and angry with need, precum glistening under the overhead light. It makes you clench of nothing, suddenly realizing how empty you feel, how he could fill you up so perfectly. 

When he settles between your legs again, he tests the waters, drags his tip along your slit, knocking it against your clit. You jerk your hips against him, trying to urge him in without outright telling him. He’s a good listener- doesn't make you wait and agonize, doesn't even make you beg for it. Just lines his shaft up with your entrance and lets out a shaky, eager breath. He doesn’t wait for an okay. He doesn’t need one. Not when you’re driving your heel into his lower back and biting at your lip in anticipation. 

You’re so drenched that he’s inside of you all the way to the hilt in one move. You go from uncomfortably empty to suddenly bracing the impalement, your walls fluttering and sucking him in, drawing these deep guttural groans from both of your throats. His hands are squeezing your ass, nails barely catching the skin. He certainly feels thicker than he looks, snug inside of your gummy walls. 

“Damn,” English meets your ears, low and sultry as you wrap your arms around his neck. “So fucking wet.”

“Take her.” Nam-gyu says, and before you know it, your weight has shifted onto Thanos almost entirely. The arm wrapped tightly around your abdomen slithers away, and then you feel it. The unmistakable, undeniable feeling of Nam-gyu’s erection pressing flush to your occupied slit. He’s so hard it must hurt, breathing heavy against your neck, a fever growing within him. And he’s bigger- you can tell, thicker. Thanos’s cock twitched inside of you, reminds you that you already feel full. You still, the sudden dawning realization that they’re both going to take you temporarily yanking you from your haze of euphoria. 

“You gonna be able to take it?” Thanos can sense the change in you. He always does, his eyes seem to never leave you. 

You can’t bring yourself to answer, because quite honestly, you don’t know. You don’t know if you could house both of their swollen cocks within the confines of your cunt. You’re trying to even your breathing, to relax around him, but it’s hard when Nam-gyu knocks his length along your sex once again. He’s trying to wait- but patience has never been one of his virtues. But he does it for you, does it because he wants this more than anything in his entire life. And he wants it done right. 

Thanos rocks himself into you, sets you alight once more, lighting little sparks behind your eyelids. Reminding you, again, that they’re going to take care of you. Chirping, mewling little sounds pass your lips every time he does, spurs them both on, especially Nam-gyu, who butts his cock up against your slit one more time before he presses inside with a hiss. 

It’s an impossibly tight fit. Your chest heaves, your body tenses, your heart is beating so rapidly you’re afraid it may burst any time now. There’s hands all over you, soothing you, toying with you, rubbing circles into your clit and catching your nipples between the pads of their fingers. The first inch of Nam-gyu manages a path inside your pussy. You tense with every fiber of your being, this searing, rippling burn forcing you to toss your head back with a dying yelp on your lips. It hurts- it hurts more than you thought it would, and you knew with certainty you’d be struggling. He won’t fit- he can’t fit, there’s no way the size of you could accommodate them both. But he continues anyway, forces another inch inside of you. 

The stretch is unbelievable. You can’t cope 

There’s hands petting down your hair, lips on your cheek, trying to kiss and lick and sooth you. 

“Quiet, it’s okay.” Your ears are swimming, you can barely hear Thanos’s voice over the crashing waves beating along your eardrums. You whimper a pitiful noise- one that makes him shift your weight onto Nam-gyu’s iron grip. Your eyes are screwed shut so tight you’re unsure if they'll ever open again. Something pokes against your lips- fingers, you realize, slipping inside your warm mouth and dragging along your tongue. You’re so lost, swirling, you just let them explore you.

“You’re so pretty, baby, let me help you.” He hums, and that reaches you just fine. Another wave of red hot blush creeps over your cheeks as if having both of their cocks jointed in the cavern of your cunt wasn’t enough before. Chest swelling, leaning into his fingers collecting your drool and prying your mouth open for him, like an obedient dog. 

A bitter, sharp taste explodes over your tongue. 

Try as you might to rip your head back, retching, Nam-gyu’s holding you up so Thanos’s other hand has got you by the back of your head and he’s shoving that terrible taste to the very back of your throat until you're gagging it down. His voice is so sweet in your ears, sickly so, faux honey tipped words that reach you in cooing there you go’s. 

“How much-” You gag with the taste of the pill still drifting down into your stomach. “How much was that?”

“Don’t worry about it. I got you.” And his broad hands are back onto your body, supporting and dragging you against him, burying his face in your neck, lapping the smooth skin there. 

You trust him. You trust both of them, even when they give you every reason not to. And so, let them handle it all for you. To take care of you. In return they ravage you, take and pull anything they can get their hands on, stuck somewhere between treating you like the finest of china

 whilst simultaneously brutalizing you at every turn. This precious, pliable, breakable, but oh so usable thing at their very fingertips. 

At the very least, Nam-gyu hasn’t continued trying to bulldoze his swollen cock into you, not yet. He’s giving you the chance to relax, to let him have you. 

This round of drugs takes as quick of effect as the first, and you can feel it starting in your back before all else, this overtaking, tranquilizing sooth that works to pacify your tense muscles. It spreads to your face, your arms, your thighs and your legs, like a flood slowly rising until you’re soggy and heavy in their arms. Your head lolls forward on your shoulders, your brain grows foggier by the second. Their heartbeats are in tandem- or perhaps, it’s just your own, pulsating through every nerve in your being. 

The drugs are helping, you think, or you really are starting to enjoy the way you’re being lanced in two. It’s hard to think at all anymore, all you can really do is feel and pant and try not to cry anymore than you already have. As the seconds tick by, you’re still lucid enough to know a glaring fact- they’re going to gut you with this. But you’re starting to lose the ability to care and you aren’t sure if that’s entirely a good thing or not. 

In that moment, however, it was bliss. Painful and scorching, but all euphoric consuming bliss. 

There isn’t enough space for them between your legs, but they carve it out anyways, shape and mold you around their cocks. Nam-gyu pushes in again, and you wrench around them, gasping out high noises in the back of your throat. He stills- there isn’t enough room like this. Even being so soaked that there’s this audible, obscene wentess to your cunt as he makes his way inside, there’s simply not enough room. Not with Thanos already buried so tightly inside of you, snug and occupying. Your fingers grip anywhere they can get- their arms, their shoulders, desperate for something to cling to in your woes. 

“I don’t think she can-” Nam-gyu groans when you squeeze around them mid sentence, and even with just half of his length sheathed inside of you, it’s fucking tight. He can’t even move, letting his forehead fall onto your shoulder. “M’ not gonna fit.”

Your weight is tossed back to Nam-gyu, your head tipping back, and he kisses your cheek again, breathes hot pants against your trembling skin. Thanos shifts inside of you, just enough to draw out urgent moans from all three of your throats. He’s so snug inside of you that it’s almost seamless, you can’t tell where he begins, where you end. That felt fucking good, whatever he had done. Your walls flutter around them, clenching, sucking them both in despite your qualms. Thanos resettles his grip, the weight redistributed. 

“Just-” His voice is strained, coming out in quick huffs. “Just do it.” Thanos ducks his head to find your eyeline, this pseudo, eager concern on his knit brows and pleading eyes. “You can take it, right?”

All you can do is nod, even though you’re still sure that this will kill you.

Nam-gyu jumps you just a bit, hoists you up just an inch or so higher so he could get a better grip on around your waist while his other arm snakes up your face so he could touch your face. Small tears are biting at your waterlines, you’re weightless and heavy all at once, on fire from the very core of your being, terrorizing you from the inside out. He kisses your cheek again before his palm finds your chin. 

“Don’t scream, don’t scream.” He covers your mouth, stifles all your frantic little noises, in preparation for what came next. 

In one single thrust, he bottoms out inside of you. You do scream- a high wail against his palm that still echoes off the stall walls even muffled. Fire spears you, you’re wrenching around them as if it’s going to help ease the flame. You go nowhere. You can do nothing except cry into his hand and accommodate them. There’s no other choice.

Buried to the very base of his cock, Nam-gyu’s groaning against the back of your head, a hiss dying on his lips every time you squirm and vice around them. Thanos mirrors him, grunting at the friction, the unbelievable feeling of being stuffed into something so warm and so soft. You’re so full- you’re too full, filled to the very brim, wall to wall, crevice to crevice. Stuffed so deeply you can feel them in your fucking throat. 

“It’s okay, you’re alright.” Frantic english meets you but you can barely register it. Nam-gyu’s hand leaves your lips, and the moment cool air meets your lips, you’re choking out sobs somewhere between erotic pleasure in its rawest form and the genuine pain of feeling as though you were being ripped in two. You’re struggling, tensing in all the wrong places. They’re heavy inside of you, both of their intrusive beings splitting you in half. Taking you, ruining you. All the while your walls are putting in the work, clamping down, rolling waves of squeezes that have them struggling to focus. A vice so wet and plush that it truly does seem like you were built for this- built to take them, painfully for not. 

Thanos is trying to keep you at bay, trying to pet down your face and ease those lines in your expression brought on agonizing, brutal pleasure. 

“Fucking- so fucking tight,” Nam-gyu, however, isn’t trying. Not at all. “Holy shit, baby, can’t even breathe-“

Since the very beginning he’s been desperate to have you on his cock, waiting for the moment he could sink into your heat long before you’d let them kiss and lick and bite you, corner you, feel your soft skin underneath all those dreadful clothes. Long before he followed Thanos into the women's room, and long before the games were even a thought at all. And now that he’s finally got you, he’s out of his mind with it. He’s ramrod straight and terribly hard, damn near pulsating inside of you, crushing you against his chest. The hand that was once stifling you is now gripping marks into the flesh of your under thigh- but you’re slipping, just barely. Just enough for him to have to jump his hips to have you properly held in his grip. It rips a cry from you, the burn clawing and tearing from within all over again. 

There’s not enough space. They’re killing you. 

“Take it easy, this is a lot.” Thanos’s brows are knit, he adjusts himself and slips in just a little further. Such a small action but it sends riveting electricity up and down your spine. It’s enough to draw yet another whimper from your sore lips, and he coo’s at you, at least tries to act like he isn’t getting off on your pathetic noises. 

Their lust dark, greedy beasts, drooling and starved with prey backed into a corner fit for the taking. 

“I know, baby, I’m sorry,” Nam-gyu tries to sound like he’s apologetic but it falls flat in comparison. Mostly because you can feel him grinning, feel him tighten his grip. His breath is a quick ghost over the shell of your ear. “Taking it so well, though, fuck.”

“Oh god.” You’re crying again- not entirely out of pain. It’s overwhelming, they're all over you, their voices are swimming around the fishbowl of you skull and they sound so sweet but they’re devouring you whole and tearing you into bits. There’s another nudge inside of you that's making your stomach roll- you still can’t decide if this hurts too bad or it’s so fucking good that it’s almost blinding. The noise that leaves you certainly sounds pleased, however, and Nam-gyu groans in response, an instinctive carnal reply. 

“That’s it, that’s it. Feels good, right?” You can hear his smile in his words, your face is red hot with all the attention, and the tears, and the mind numbing rapture of it all. 

“We’ll take care of you baby, just-” Thanos hisses, struggling to get the words out. “Just say the word.”

You’ve got them teetering on the fine line of wanting and waiting, craving the slick and lushious feel of your walls writhing against their cocks, ready to take you and break you and fuck you. Thanos tries to be patient, or at least act like he’s patient, but you can see how he’s grappling with it. You’re stuck, held fast in the chains of their arms and strong hands, and he knows he could just take you like this and you couldn’t stop him. But he wants to wait, he wants to hear you sing, and he wants to hear you cry and cum for him, and forcing you wasn’t the road to that destination. 

Something urged you to wrap your arms around his neck and drag him down for a kiss he’s all too eager for, clashing teeth and pressing into your mouth so intensely he’s pushing your head back against his friend's shoulder with the force of it. And while you’re distracted, scrambling to keep up with the ferocity of him, Nam-gyu decides to take a gamble. He rocks his hips just enough for you to feel that tight, tight pressure against your cervix where he lays. Pleasure lights up within you like a spark that soars from the very depths of your cunt all the way to the behinds of your eyes, and you constrict around them. 

This longing, aching keen leaves you and plants itself against Thanos’s lips, he's quick to grasp your jaw in his fingers and swallow the sound like fine wine. You hadn’t expected it to feel this good already, this glorious thrum of heaven that makes you arch and press into the feeling for more. Your walls are clutching, dragging them in, your brain is choosing to ignore the burn in favor of the racing pleasure vibrating through your core. 

Thanos breaks away from your kiss to lick up your neck, and you finally get the chance to whimper, please.

The beasts close in on their prey, snarling and snapping, catching its little body between their teeth. 

Thanos, with his face buried in your neck and his hands shaking as they clutchy you, draws back just far enough to kiss your stretched slit with the tip of his swollen head before he’s driving himself back inside of you. Fuck, you could scream all over again at the spread, but instead all that escapes you is hoarse cries. Nam-gyu presses his forehead against the back of your hair and breathes you in, readies himself. You don’t even get the full length of a second to prepare before you’re ravaged. 

He moves quick- hard, with the hiss of fuck on his lips. He’s been waiting and waiting and waiting and you’re so soaked around his cock that it’s dripping onto his legs, how could he ever stop himself from gripping you in his mighty claws and fucking you like an animal. He’s drawing himself to the tip and forcing his way back inside at a speed you can’t keep up with, and he’s making all these guttural lewd grunts into your ear that make you even wetter, somehow, even slicker. You’re sucking them in and constricting around their lengths like you’re trying to keep them buried within the confines of your body forever. 

“Oh my god,” Thanos is chirping out mixtures of english and korean, all words lost on you, his eyes slipping shut as he takes his time properly fucking you. He’s slower than Nam-gyu for sure, but the way he rocks his hips against you is making you squirm, toes curling, fingers grabbing hard into his tracksuit for some sort of desperate need of release. His cock is mapping you out, becoming familiar with every ridge and valley of your softness, seeking out the entirety of you and the perfect curve of his dick is hitting spots that have you barking out yips of ecstasy.

Nan-gyu changes his angle and you can’t take it. There isn’t a slow thing about him. He fucks you like he’s been dying for it, like it’s the last thing he’ll ever do, savage and wild, so fervent and profound that it’s making you see stars. He’s a little longer than Thanos- but only just a little, just enough for him to pound away at your cervix while you’re stuck folded and taut in his iron grip, damn near bouncing on his length. Wet squelches and the undeniable slap of skin on skin thicken the humidity between your bodies until it’s hard to breathe between the thickness and the rapid beat of pleasures sweeping through you in pulses. 

You’re crying out broken little sounds that either die in your throat or find their way lost in all the hazy noise and he’s echoing you, telling you dirty, dirty things in your flushed ears, how you’re so fucking tight, how perfect and wet you are for him. 

Someone- you can’t even figure out who anymore, finds your lonely clit under their fingers, rubbing quick and slick circles into the sensitive nub. Your thighs clamp down around Thanos’s waist but he’s too broad to offer any reprieve, your eyes slipping shut, head tossed back. It’s escapable- they’re inescapable, and their uneven tempos are making you see blank- a sheet of veneer white sparks you can feel with every pop. There’s no air left in your lungs, there’s so much pressure between your legs that you fear you may burst. 

There’s a certain moment when you’re right on the edge. This perfect moment when you’re right there and then you’re rolling through it in convulsing waves. All the stars align, the inferno stoking within you suddenly becomes this roaring wildfire swallowing you whole. You’re at that peak, focused on nothing but the endless stream of slurred words and the feeling of being stuffed to the very brim, no singular spot of your leaking pussy left abandoned. 

“You gonna’ cum?” Nam-gyu’s voice barely even registers with you when you first hear it. He’s still got you taking him in pistoning jerks of his hips, bullying himself into your poor, swollen sex. You don’t exactly try to nod, but the way you’re being pounded is making it all too easy to. Just a little more…

It’s not Nam-gyu pressing the pads of his fingers against your clit- no, his free hand is right back to grasping at your face, roughly flattening your hair back out of your face and keeping your expression on full display. Not quite pulling, but ensuring your head doesn’t leave its spot pressed against his shoulder. 

“That’s it, fuck, lemme’ see you cum.” You’re twisting in his grip, drooling and babbling please, please, please, and the fucker is laughing at you between carnal grunts. He’s hissing and groaning against your cheek like you’ve made him feral. 

“Come on, baby.” There’s another voice- Thanos’s, it’s reaching through the fog of lust and sultry cries, fishing you out of your own head and lulls you into a messy, heated kiss. You’ve gotten familiar with these lips now, familiar with the taste and the feel of his tongue slipping past your lips until you’re panting breathy cries against his taste buds. His fingers, you’ve realized, speed up their assault on your clit. 

Anything anyone says after that point is lost on you. 

If not for his lips on your own, you’d have outright screamed when you finally tipped over that edge. It’s everything, it’s everywhere. It’s in your eyes and your mouth, it’s in your toes and fingertips, it’s racing in colliding atoms up and down the length of your spine. 

The sheer shove and weight of their cocks pushing and grinding raw friction into you, impossibly deep, their grips holding you in place, you’re in a damn chokehold. Can see nothing, can hear nothing. Can only feel, and feel, and feel that pressure having snapped and unfurled into blooming pleasure that takes root within the very core of your being. 

You’re squeezing them, a torrent of slurry drenching and spilling around their shafts. Pulling, dragging, you’re clamping around them in pendulum pulses. It’s knocking the wind from their lungs, drawing out all the air in a slew of chest rumbling groans and teeth-whistling hisses. You’re delicious on it- blissed out and fucked and still being fucked with reckless abandon.

Nam-gyu bites and licks red into your neck, little specks turned into welts just above where your tracksuit collar reaches, the asshole. But he’s lucky- you’re so spent and raw and limp in their arms that you aren’t even registering it. That’s a problem for later, right now you’re too focused on how they’re both so damn heavy inside you, swollen intrusions that twitch for release everytime they drag along your plushy walls.

“Shit.” Thanos is gripping wounds into your thighs, hips stuttering, fighting his own release. You’re too warm, too perfect and tight around him, he doesn’t want this to end- not yet. Not when he’s got you just where he wants you. His head is falling on his shoulders, chest shaking with his stuttering breaths. “Slow down, slow down. Make it last.”

Nam-gyu listens. Kind of. For good measure he bucks up and slams himself as far as he’ll reach before he finally settles and breathes heavy pants against your collarbone. 

“Slow down, man, fuck.”

“Can't help it, feels so good.” Tongue lapping over your jaw, cruel laughter grazing your skin in huffs. “Look at you. You feel good, baby? Hm?”

You’re still reeling from your orgasm, still riding out the aftershocks. Some strangled whimper-like sound leaves you, he’s laughing at you again, finds everything you do something worth a reaction. He kisses the marks he’s littered on your throat. Shivering and trembling, you’re blitzing on the borderline of over and under stimulation while they’re suspended inside of you. There’s a sense within you, something filthy and needy, that’s so insatiable, unsatisfied until they’ve had their fill with you. Or, perhaps, until you’ve been properly filled with them. 

Thanos presses his forehead against yours. “See? I said we’d take care of you.”

“Feels- I’m-...” You’re breathing so hard it hurts. “I’m so full.”

Nam-gyu groans against your jaw. Your voice has this gravitational pull to him, like he leans on every word, or feels the primal need to meet you at the end of every noise you make. That same primal need also crosses him when you suddenly grind into him, feels the urge to find you halfway and kiss your cervix with the tip of his dick in a sharp buck. It rips a shrill sound from your throat, his tongue tasting the vibrations on your skin. Wet kisses dot your chin before they’re on the corner of your mouth, and then taking over your lips entirely. 

Nimble fingers pinch and knead your clit, sliding through your swollen folds before showering the sensitive nub with attention. Thanos doesn’t wait for any sort of confirmation from you, barely even waits to collect himself before it’s been entirely too long since he’s felt you moving against him. You run your fingers through his hair, feel him sigh against your collarbone, and then he’s dipping down to bite marks into your chest. It’s that same rhythm that drives you insane, nerves buzzing back to life following your earth-shattering orgasm.

Nam-gyu is still by choice for the first time since he’d entered you, something about the way your lips are moving against him keeping him locked in this trance. One of your hands finds it’s way from Thanos’s hair and into Nam-gyus, having to reach over your shoulder to clutch at the back of his black strands. It beckons him, draws him in deeper into the feeling. When he finally does start to move again, it’s different. Different pace, different angle, different sounds, even. Sensual and smooth, a slow drag inch by inch until he’s just buried by the tip, then rocking his hips until he’s pressing hard against your cervix all over again.

You’re trying to be still, trying to not heave out breathless sobs but Thanos is still rubbing you and it’s too much to take- Nam-gyu eats every sound funneled into his lips, tongue tangled with yours, unwilling to let you catch your breath. 

You don’t get even a second of reprieve, their rhythms mismatched but also perfectly timed, never a moment you aren’t full, wrecked with jolting twitches and shaking legs. At this point you’re just along for the ride, nothing but flesh and warmth and slick. A pound of meat  masticated and devoured between them.

Teeth find your left nipple, Thanos’s excited hum meeting your ears when you writhe in response. He speeds up, both his thrusts and his fingers, grunts against your breast and you start to feel it- that deep, deep simmer between your legs. A crescendo up, and up, and up within your belly that mounts alongside  the seconds. You’re so messy and wet that you’re feeling it run along the underside of your thighs, each movement accompanied by slapping skin and trilling moans. 

Up, and up. The pressure building until you’re arching your back and trying to squeal into Nam-gyu’s mouth that you’re right there, you’re gonna-

You seize up around them and wail. It rips through you, spears you like a lance, you aren’t sure how anything in this life could ever feel so good. How anything will ever feel this delicious again. 

Heaven is on earth, and it’s in your shaking hands and leaking pussy and shoved up inside you with their cocks. Surging pleasure washing through you and scrubbing you of everything else except the rut of their hips into yours. 

Nam-gyu cums first, manages to fuck you through you through your own, but no longer than that, growling into your mouth and biting your lips and your biting your jaw when he wrenches himself out of your cunt and paints the underside of your thigh with thick, pearly ropes of his cum. He’s shaking hard, and you’re sure you’re shaking harder, more akin to a leaf in a raging storm than a fellow human being. 

Thanos bites your shoulder. You’re absolutely covered in bites, in drool, in their sweet words lashing into your skin. He’s so close- you can feel him twitching inside of you, his cock pulsating before you feel the spread of his cum coating your walls. It’s thick, it’s red hot, and there’s so much of it that before he even pulls himself out of you it’s already dripping around him and onto the floor. Your head tips back, eyes half lidded, unfocused on the ceiling. 

You’re hollow. You're so empty that it's uncomfortable, carved out and built into their perfect mold. 

“Fucking dick. I pulled out.” Nam-gyu pants, irritated, but not on your behalf. No, irritated because he would have loved to see his own seed seep from your spent pussy and down your trembling thighs. 

When you’re set back down, you forget how to stand. Your knees buckle underneath you in an instant and you plummet, only stopped by Thanos’s arms suddenly hoisting you up from underneath your shoulders. He pulls you to him, your face rubbing drool into the chest of his tracksuit. The ‘O’ patch scratches your face but you can’t be damned to care. You’re too focused on wondering how the hell you’re supposed to walk at all after this- fucked out and completely drunk on sex. Useless and sore and swollen. 

You’re sticky, you’re sweaty, you’re fucking exhausted and barely managing to stay awake now that you’ve settled and the drugs are still in effect. Pretty soon now, when you’re able to stand upright without having someone supporting most of your weight, they’ll have to sneak back out of the room and saunter away to their beds. You’ll have to wash yourself off, again, and figure out how you’re going to get back to your little corner of the dormitory without limping. 

But for now, you just hum out a sound dripping in satisfaction. Your eyes are shutting, all the tensions and the nerves slipping away in the white noise. 

“I have to ask,” You slur. “How long have you guys been planning this.”

Thanos’s chest rumbles with his reply. “You don’t want to know.”

“You should have done it earlier. That was…” You start to laugh. It’s a drained, weary sound, but a laugh nonetheless. “Fuck. That was nice. I’ve wanted that.”

You can practically hear it when Nam-gyu shoots a wide-eyed glare at his friend. 

“I told you!”

[navybrat817]

Hollow

Pairing: Mob!Bucky Barnes x Female Reader

Summary: Bucky touches on memories from the past and wants to start a new tradition with you.

Word Count: Over 2.3k

Warnings: Explicit sexual content, unprotected vaginal fingering, dirty talk, slight use of knife, established relationship, feels (it's me), Bucky Barnes (he's a warning, okay?).

A/N: Fic #7 for Navy's Trick or Treat Nonsense! Newlywed Mob!Bucky won the poll.❤️ Not beta read and written on my phone, so any and all mistakes are my own. Divider by the talented @firefly-graphics . Please follow @navybrat817-sideblog for new fics and notifications. Comments, reblogs, feedback are loved and appreciated!

A different side of Bucky came out when the leaves began to change. Subtle, but different. It wasn't noticeable to most since he showed people what he wanted them to see. It was a skill he perfected over the years, almost as if he wore a mask to hide his true self. What you saw, however, was ice in his eyes, the same that no doubt ran through his veins. Something weighed on his heart and mind.

You were determined to get to the bottom of it.

As his partner, it wasn't just your job to chase his demons away, but a need to protect him from whatever haunted or hunted him. You wanted to soothe him and let him know he wasn't alone. You knew if the roles were reversed that he'd eliminate anything or anyone that removed the light from your eyes. To have someone that loved you that much was still a bit of a dream.

How thin is the line between love and obsession?

“I can hear you thinking from here, Printsessa,” Bucky said. He knew you were watching him as he sat in his study, even as he focused on something else in front of him. He didn’t turn his back to anyone, except for you. He knew you would never put a knife in it. That was how much faith and trust he had in you. “Don’t want to join me?”

“I didn’t want to interrupt,” you replied, walking further into the room so you could get a better look at him. He had the sleeves of his button up shirt rolled up, giving you a moment to admire his metal left arm and the tattoos on the right. He commanded the room without standing.

“It's never an interruption if it's you,” he reminded you.

He twirled one of his signature knives between his fingers before he went back to work. The love of your life was an expert in many weapons, but had an affinity for knives. While it didn’t surprise you to find the head of the Bratva with a weapon in hand, you hadn’t expected to see a pumpkin in front of him. “Pumpkin carving? You’re just full of surprises.”

He snorted a little. “I like that I can surprise you.”

Watching him start to carve a pattern in the pumpkin with ease, his eyes narrowed in concentration and hand moving with care, was like a dance. He led with confidence and control. It was a beautiful thing to witness.

“Do you know why some people carve pumpkins?”

You finally took a seat beside him on the sofa, resting a hand on his thigh. His muscles relaxed and you wondered what had him so tense. “I think most do it today to decorate, but some do it to ward off evil spirits,” you said, moving your hand in slow, circular motions as he hummed in acknowledgement. “Is someone haunting you? Do I need to scare them away?”

He tilted his head, a glimmer of pride flickering in his blue eyes as he smiled. “You’d scare them away? You don't think I can handle them myself?”

“I have no doubt you could handle them on your own,” you said with complete certainty. He more than earned his Winter Soldier nickname. “But if something or someone is after you, I want to help.”

He studied you as he lowered his knife and covered your hand with his, holding it like a lifeline. Some protected and fought for him because it was their sense of duty. Others did so out of loyalty to his bloodline. You did it out of love.

Because you did love him.

“No one is after me. At least not today,” he assured you, bringing your hand to his mouth to kiss it. “But thank you.”

“Then why are you holding my hand like you can't let go?”

The look he gave you melted your heart a bit. “Because I don't want to let you go.”

It was almost as if he was worried you'd bolt if he released you. The only time you'd run would be when you wanted him to chase you. Or maybe he imagined someone would try to take you away from him. He'd never let anyone get you. “What's on your mind then?”

And how do I help?

“My family,” he admitted, your eyebrows shooting up in surprise. “My mom used to carve pumpkins. I haven't done it in years.”

You didn’t speak for a moment. His family wasn’t a topic he discussed much, so you didn’t want to say the wrong thing. “Did she teach you how?”

A faint smile appeared and fell just as quickly. “She did,” he said, admiring his handiwork. “I thought it was strange at first, you know? Encouraging me to pull out the insides and leave it hollow. And to carve a face? It almost seemed like a form of torture. Probably why dad demanded I use a decent knife.”

He didn’t hide the hint of anger when he mentioned his dad. You turned your hand over so your palm connected with his, letting him squeeze it to ground him. “But that’s not why your mom did it. She was teaching you to do something beautiful instead of harmful.”

“That's exactly what she did,” he agreed, leaning forward to pick up the knife. “It also encouraged my critical thinking skills. You can’t just dive in without a plan. You have to think it through.”

Bucky sometimes teased that his best friend, Steve, was the man with a plan. The truth was, they both were. Each brilliant in their own way, there was a reason they stayed in power and why so many feared them.

“And I felt proud when she displayed them. Valued,” he continued, his voice a little choked up before he cleared his throat. “It was a tradition I didn't realize I missed.”

Maybe the nostalgia was the reason his eyes looked a bit colder in the fall. “Sounds like a beautiful memory,” you said.

“I hadn’t formed beautiful memories in years until you came along,” he said, his lips skimming your temple. “But you're my family now.”

Tears didn't fill your eyes, but you felt them in your throat. The man was ruthless when the occasion called for it. Terrifying in his rage. You were the lucky one who would never be on the receiving end of it. Only his love. His need. But you could take his rage if you had to.

Like his old memories, you could make it something beautiful.

“You're my family, too,” you told him. You hadn't expected that of Bucky when you met and part of you wanted to stay away from the dangerous world he helped rule, but how could you not want a life with him?

His gaze softened, which warmed your heart. “And I would feel very proud if you helped me finish this,” he said, moving further back against the cushion and opening his legs for you to sit between them. “Maybe it can be the start of our own tradition.”

Your heart raced as you stood up and took a seat on the edge of the cushion, exhaling as he pressed himself against you. “I’m not good at this,” you said, closing your hand around the handle as he placed the knife in it. You didn’t want to ruin the intricate design he already worked so hard on.

His warm breath tickled your ear as he whispered, “We’ll do it together.”

“Guide me?” You asked.

“Of course, Printsessa.”

At the root of everything, Bucky was a man who didn’t want to walk this earth alone. Power and money meant nothing if he didn’t have someone to share himself with. It would’ve left him as hollow as the pumpkins he worried about carving as a child. And if helping him finish this one would make him happy, you’d do just that.

Time passed as he helped you cut into the pumpkin and urged you to follow the stencil, the smell from the pumpkin seeds off to the side bringing a pleasant layer to Bucky's woodsy cologne. There was something intimate about him having you close, his hand directing where yours should go. Like when he taught you how to properly shoot a gun. He said you didn't need his help, but he gave it to you all the same.

Your hold almost slipped when his metal hand snaked between your thighs, softly rubbing your pussy through your underwear. It barely covered your mound, just like your flimsy nightgown. “How am I supposed to concentrate?” you asked, arching as he firmly pressed his palm against you.

“You asked me to guide you. I will,” he said, the light scratch from his scruff making goosebumps rise on your skin.

“You're distracting me,” you whispered, trying to keep your breathing nice and steady.

“Would distracting you be so bad?” he whispered back close to your ear. “We're almost done.”

His fingers gently played with your clit through the fabric, drawing a breathy sigh from you as you squirmed. His almost feathery touch made you all the more determined to finish up, especially since he refused to let you close your thighs to get any friction. You were on the edge of release and he was relentless in loving you.

But he didn't let you come.

“Good girl,” he praised once you finished carving, stopping his fingers as you set the knife down. You bit back a whimper as the rising pleasure faded. “It's beautiful.”

“It is,” you breathed. Instead of a smiling face you saw on so many pumpkins around Halloween, he designed a merged sun and moon. “It's us, isn't it?”

“It is,” he replied, pressing a kiss to your shoulder before he gestured for you to hand him another knife. “You're my sun.”

“That makes you my moon,” you said, stiffening when you felt the blade at your shoulder. “What are you-”

Bucky sliced through your strap and kissed your bare skin. “I'm starting a new tradition,” he said, doing the same to the other side before he slid your nightgown down. He dragged the knife across your exposed breasts, taking great care not to cut you. “Carve a pumpkin. Cut your clothes off. Make you come.”

“You mean tease my pussy without getting me off,” you said without much bite.

He chuckled, a deep rumble as he set the knife aside. “I always get you off. I’m going to make you feel so good, Solynshko.”

With gentle kisses along your jaw and neck, his large hand slid up to fondle your breasts. The rough pads of his fingers teased your nipples as you gasped and reached back to grasp his hair. He moaned as you twisted your fingers in the strands, his hand sliding down to your wet heat again. Thankfully, he didn't tease you through the fabric this time. His fingers dipped into your underwear and you knew he was eager to feel your arousal.

Everything in your core tightened when he caressed your folds. You met his gaze as you tilted your head back, wanting him to see your desperation as his gaze darkened. “Make me come, please.”

“People beg me for money. Power. Mercy,” he said in a low voice, nuzzling your cheek as he sank a finger in, your walls contracting around him. “Not you. It's only pleasure you ask for.”

“It's you I'm begging for,” you admitted in a whisper. Even when you pushed or questioned why he wanted you of all people, you gave him your love. You yielded only to him and you would never bend your will for anyone else. To deny him would be to deny yourself.

He brushed his lips along your jaw and dipped another finger in as you shuddered. “You begging for me to fuck your pretty pussy with my fingers? Make you ruin this couch before I give you my cock?”

Your head fell back against his shoulder as you bit your lip. “Yes, I am. Ruin me. Love me,” you moaned.

“I love you more than anything,” he promised as your eyes slipped shut, dots of white dancing behind your eyelids.

He gripped your jaw to turn your head back to him, seeking out your lips with his. There was nothing tentative in the kiss, his ice meeting your fire and creating an explosion of need within both of you. Your body hummed as you felt the peak of your impending climax, ready for him to tear you apart.

“Come for me, Printsessa,” he demanded against your lips.

Your pussy clamped around his fingers as you lost yourself to the daze of your orgasm, shamelessly crying out his name. Your juices dripped down his fingers as he helped you ride it out, praising you in your ear and guiding you the way he did with the carving. He was telling the truth before: He always got you off.

“Are you okay?” you asked once you caught your breath, the question you meant to ask the moment you entered his study. He seemed more at ease, though lust now clouded his eyes.

“I'm okay,” he said in a rough voice, slowly pulling his fingers out as you sagged against him. He pulled you closer, enveloping you in his strong arms. It was safe. It was home. “But I think you need my cock.”

“I think I need it, too,” you smiled once you caught your breath, knowing his cock likely twitched in his pants as he tasted you on his fingers. “And you owe me a new nightgown.”

“I ordered you a new one before you came in here,” he said, his expression smug as you turned your head to stare at him. “Now sit on my cock. We have a long night ahead of us.”

“Bossy Pakhan,” you teased.

But if giving you orgasms, ruining your clothes, and making new memories brought the light back in his eyes, you wouldn't complain.

Oh, to belong to him. Love and thanks for reading! 🧡

Masterlist ⚓ Bucky Barnes Masterlist ⚓ Ko-Fi

[pedriache]

All in good time, — Franco Colapinto.

Summary: When a college student meets her polar opposite in Franco Colapinto, she instantly disliked him. But, Franco was enamored with her and he would get her to like him, all in good time.

Word count: 1.65k+

Disclaimer/s: this is a hockey!au

A/N: this is for @purinfelix and jet only! though i love each and every one of you who choses to read it.. this was. this was ass girl shit i’m sorry i didn’t know where i was going toward the end… i may do another hockey player!franco fic tho but its going to be far more centered around the actual hockey

Franco Colapinto was a force to be reckoned with. Somehow, you’d gotten tangled into his life. When your dorm was being renovated and you needed a place to stay, your roommate suggested her friend’s house—that friend being Franco. A notorious hockey player for the Golden Knights.

He was, in simple terms, agitating. Your two and a half weeks staying in his basement was something close to hell on earth. He held parties, big ones! Ones that interrupted your studying, which he’d half ass apologize for the next morning while nursing a raging hangover, right before asking you to make your signature hangover recipe while he showered.

That was your payment for staying there. You nursed his hangovers and helped him come up with various excuses as to why he was late to practice, even going as far as to go out of your way to tell his coach you’d gotten terribly sick and he had to bring you to the hospital.

Two pea’s in a lying pod. That’s what you were.

In the first week, he’d convinced you to go to the rink to help him practice. You—only ever using figure skates—had a difficult time keeping up with him. You nearly broke a tailbone trying to catch up with him.

Franco held a lopsided grin when he stopped, ice shavings flying as he turned to face you. Though, you saw the concern flash across his face as he skated back in your direction, leaning down to help you up.

“I need an ice pack—“ Your lips formed a thin line, “actually, I need wine and an excuse to get out of this hell.”

The curly haired man laughed, pulling your hand over his shoulder as his free arm looped around your waist. Holding you up, he assisted you back to the bench, setting you down carefully.

Once you shifted to get comfortable, wincing in pain, you untie the laces on your skates. “How do you do this for a living? I’m fucking miserable and we’ve done this once.”

Franco shrugs, leaning his head against the tempered glass that separated the rink from the benches. “Maybe I will just have to put you to work.” His lips threaten a smirk, “if it helps, I do prefer practicing with you than my teammates.”

That wasn’t even particularly a lie. He tried to find ways to get to know you, but you were a tough nut to crack. He tried so hard to find ways to get in your good graces, and forcing you to hang out with him was the only way he could get you to spend quality time with him.

His flirting was what annoyed you the most. You couldn’t stand it, only because it made a weird feeling erupt in your stomach. “First of all, don’t let them hear that. Second of all, I will never do this again. Ever.”

Franco was a convincer. He was good at getting people to do things, and you were unfortunately, not exempt from that. Even when you were back in your dorms, he’d convinced you to join him at the rinks.

You rarely ever practiced with him, simply opting to watch from the stands. You hated to admit it, but you’d grown to enjoy the time spent with him. When he took breaks, he’d explain the rules to you, different tactics they used, various things.

When you’d get so engrossed in conversation, he’d slip in a question about you, that you’d answer without thinking. He was good at getting to know people, but you were a difficult case. He’d found a way eventually, only getting you to talk about yourself when you were so distracted you couldn’t think long enough to stop it.

“Hockey pucks are actually frozen before games to make them move faster and glide smoothly on the ice, so they don’t bounce a lot.” Franco was rambling about different facts, waiting for the perfect opportunity to slip in a question he’d been waiting to ask for weeks.

“Seriously? So they don’t just stay rubbery and lukewarm?” The last part was only slightly sarcastic, but the fact had actually surprised you.

“So.. are you seeing anyone?”

“No.” You pause, wait—what? You don’t get an opportunity to ask any further questions because he was already onto the next fact. “Franco!” You snap, interjecting his next rant.

Francos eyebrows raise slightly, “yeah?”

You narrow your eyes, licking your lips. “You just asked if I was seeing someone. Then—you know what. That doesn’t matter, what does though, is that you just slipped in a question that was not like the others you’ve slipped in.” His face contorts and you laugh, “i’m going to law school, I notice tactics like that.”

The hockey players mouth quirks, he wasn’t even slightly ashamed. “Oh, I love how smart you are.” He hums, “I was just curious. If you were, thank the lord you aren’t, but, he wouldn’t like you hanging out with me.”

“Thank the lord? Seriously?” Your eyes roll dramatically. The wooden bench beneath you feels stiff and uncomfortable the more he watched you with his stupidly smug face.

Franco nods, “hey—“ He begins untying his laces, “you should come to my game tomorrow. You haven’t come in a while.”

The topic switch was noticeable, but you ignore it. “I have a lecture late tomorrow. I’ll probably be tired.” But when Franco’s face changes into that familiar doe-eyed expression, you cave. “Fine! I’ll come! Quit looking at me like that.”

“I’m not looking at you like anything.”

“Yes you are”

“No i’m not.”

“Are too!”

“Let me take you to dinner.”

“Are—what?” Your brain stops working, words failing your tongue. Excuse you? “Wait a fucking minute—“

Franco watches you carefully. “Is that a no?”

“No! I mean—“ You were still a stumbling mess. Your mouth opening and clamping shut. “It’s a-well, I mean, It’s a yes! Yes, I will! Jesus, Franco. You couldn’t have asked any smoother?”

He’s smiling, finding your stammering all too amusing… and adorable. It was very cute. “It felt fitting to me.” He shrugs casually, slipping off his skates. “After the game and a shower, the diner you like a few blocks from your dorm?”

That was most definitely something he learned during his not-so-secret questionnaires.

“That sounds perfect.” You huff, “now, can you bring me home? I think i’m developing hypothermia.”

After changing into his regular shoes, he stands, offering you his hand. You take it, though it was with an eye roll. Franco smirks at your reaction, not commenting on it as he helps you to your feet.

“Does your body not ache every time you finish?” You ask as the two of you exit the arena, making your way through the dark parking lot.

You regretted your choice of words the second they left your lips. “Don’t even—“

“I have incredible stamina, actually.” Franco cheeses, slinging his arm around you. You allow it, even leaning into his side.

“You are insufferable.” You scoff, but the twitch of your lips betrayed your feigned annoyance.

The laugh that emits from Francos mouth has a smile growing on your lips, it was a sound you’d grown to enjoy.

Franco opens the passenger door for you, which had you suppressing a smile. It was a gesture he made every trip to the arena, in fact���Franco was very much a gentleman, despite boy boyish he could be.

Only when he was the drivers seat with the engine going and heater ablaze, does Franco finally grow serious. “Are you sure you want to do this? I don’t want to make you feel like you have to, I know you’re sort of a people pleaser.”

Okay, ouch?

Franco’s eyes widen, “I didn’t mean it like that!” He says quickly, stumbling for a way to fix what he said.

You’d never seen Franco have to search for words to say. He was always so smooth and, well, he was never one to falter.

“I know what you meant, and you’re right. But, when have I ever gone out of my way to people please you.” You reassure him, a gentle look on your face. “I want this.”

The rest was history. You want Franco had been going steady for months. Whenever you had enough time in your busy college schedule, you went to his games, you were his number one cheerleader and support system.

Hockey had easily become your favorite sport, you knew everything about it due to Franco’s inability to ever stop talking. Thats probably what made the two of you such a perfect pair. You were quiet, he wasn’t. He was your polar opposite, the yin to your yang. And thats what made it work.

When you didn’t want to talk, he wasn’t there to fill the silence. When he didn’t want to talk, you enjoyed each other’s silence.

You had never thought in a million years, the man who annoyed you oh so much, was the same man you would grow to love.

likes , comments , and reblog’s are all appreciated. lmk if you’d like to be tagged in future franco posts.

ᝰ.ᐟ tags @halfwayhearted @purinfelix @sakashq @hrts4havertz @spidybaby

[andvys]

Dancing with our hands tied | S.H.

Chapter seven ⭐︎ Got a feeling your electric touch, could fill this ghost town up with life

Warnings: 18+, minors don't interact. mentions of sex, mentions of unrequited feelings, sexual tension, reader teasing Steve sexually, not giving away anything else

Pairing: Steve Harrington x fem!reader

Summary: After you and Steve cross a line, you are the one to take things to a whole new level — driving Steve insane with your never ending teasing.

Word count: 7.4k+

Author’s note: I know you keep yelling at me but anyways -- shoutout to @hellfire--cult for helping me with this, especially the uh last part hehe.

Also, @prettyboyeddiemunson talked about a little crossover thing, and I love her girl in gods & monsters so she's making a little appearance here for Eddie hehe, all credits go to my bestie of course, the character belongs to her! If you haven't read the story yet, go check it out, it's one of my faves!

Series Masterlist ⭐︎ Previous Chapter ⭐︎ Next Chapter

♡

Staring up at the ceiling, Steve sinks deeper into his pillows, finding more comfort in his bed than usual, he takes a deep breath as he runs his hand over his face. He should feel content, knowing that he’s got the day off but instead he feels tense and frustrated in a way he had never felt before. 

His mind could be anywhere right now, he could think about the new tapes he stacked up at work last night, he could think about the show he watched before he went to bed, he could think about the mixtape Eddie had made for him, he could think about the girl that so obviously tried to flirt with him at work the other day, his mind could take him to any place, his imagination could be limitless but no, his mind is somewhere it shouldn’t be, his mind is with you. 

Nothing he does, nothing he tries to think about can drag his thoughts away from you. You occupy every space of his mind, reminding him of how much control you had taken over him ever since you both crossed a line that changed things between you both. 

Steve may have been the one who started it at all, but you are the one who took the game to a whole new level. 

The little accident in his kitchen that happened weeks ago, was only the start of it all. 

Steve wasn’t exactly subtle when he kept checking you out before the fiasco with the broken lever, and he wasn’t subtle with his touches either. He was treading on thin ice, he knew that, he knew that his slight teasing could have easily backfired if you reacted differently but it didn’t, and your reactions were everything that he was hoping for. You grew flustered, you started blushing, you stuttered and you looked at him the way he was hoping you would. 

But, what he didn’t expect was for you to tease him back, especially in a way that had him blushing, stuttering, and staring at you in shock. 

You were so innocent and shy at first, doing everything as subtly as possible. It started with gentle touches on his arm or his hand, soft whispers during dinner whenever he sat beside you, or long eye contact. Then, you realized just how much power you had over him and things quickly developed into something more, something so much deeper.

Your teasing was no longer innocent and your shyness seemed to have slipped away more and more, little by little. 

The look in your eyes was no longer a shy one whenever you looked at each other. There was a fire behind your eyes that he had never seen before. The smirk that tugged at your lips wasn’t the same one you usually looked at him with, it was different, mischievous, and very suggestive – a little too suggestive for someone like you because if someone else had looked at him the way you do, he’d think that they’re flirting but you don’t do that and certainly not with him. 

The only explanation for your behavior is that you are teasing him, playing with him just the way he did with you but not because you want him. He started something that night when Hopper and Joyce announced their engagement. It was harmless at first, his teasing was light and playful, he loved to see those sweet reactions of yours but Steve didn’t know that it was a dangerous game that he had started, he didn’t know that he’d be playing with fire the moment he’d touch you. 

Because you are far from harmless, and your teasing is not light and playful in the slightest. If it was, he wouldn’t be feeling like this right now; frustrated, agitated and filled with pent up emotions that he can’t even make out in his own head. 

He closes his eyes again as a groan falls from his lips, he shakes his head at himself, cursing inwardly for thinking about no one other than you. 

Has it always been that way? 

Have you always been on his mind? 

Or is it something new?

An unspoken deal was made between the both of you when you two started this. There are no rules, just a winner and a loser – whoever breaks first loses and so far, it seems like Steve won’t even get close to winning, even though he was the one to start it all so confidently. 

You clearly have taken over, because the moment you looked at him with innocent big eyes and a pout on your lips while pressing your chest against his arm when you tried to squeeze past him, your boobs nearly spilling over your cute little top, your voice sounding raspy from all the weed you had smoked that night, he was done for. 

It wasn’t the first time that a girl had done something like this to him, plenty of girls have given him those innocent eyes, have pressed their boobs against him, in much less clothing… but something about you drives him especially crazy. Maybe it’s the fact that you both hate or dislike each other or maybe it’s the fact that he is just extremely frustrated – sexually frustrated. Maybe that is the only reason why you get to him in that way… why he feels the want to continue this little game or why he feels the intense need to fuck you and get you out of his mind, once and for all. 

Another groan falls from his lips when he remembers that Robin bailed on him after she called him in the middle of the night, telling him that she wouldn’t make it to lunch today, meaning that it will be just Eddie, you and him. 

A part of him even looks forward to seeing you, the other part doesn’t because he already knows how he will feel afterwards, while you will probably go home feeling satisfied after teasing the hell out of him. 

Every time before you leave, you look at him as though you had done nothing wrong, which sometimes leads him to believe that you’re not even aware of all the teasing you torture him with and that he was the only one playing this game, all this time. 

Steve drags himself out of bed and into the bathroom, turning on the shower so the water can heat up while he brushes his teeth. He looks at his reflection in the mirror, rolling his eyes at the mess on his head, he brings his hand up to his hair, running his fingers through it. 

As he thinks about what to wear, he gets lost in his thoughts, thinking about you, wondering what you will wear. Are you going to wear a dress? Another short skirt to drive him crazy with? 

He rolls his eyes, cursing inwardly at himself for thinking about you again. 

He needs to get this out of his system. 

He needs to get you out of his system. 

And there is only one way to do it and he knows it, but he’s not even sure where your feelings stand, if you’d be down for what he’s longing for or if you’d laugh in his face if he even tried to suggest something like it. – Your reaction would probably be the latter, and just the thought of it is enough to bring the grumpiness out in him. 

He begrudgingly starts getting ready, all while his mind keeps him occupied with thoughts about you. 

He doesn’t know what caused all of this, he doesn’t know how it happened, how his mind is incapable of thinking about anything or anyone but you these days. 

He feels as though he had been cursed. You are haunting him, in his mind and even in his dreams, and seeing you all the time doesn't help at all… and yet, he wouldn’t want it any other way because this little thing between you both makes him feel a thrill that has been missing in his life. 

By the time Steve pulls up into the parking lot at the diner, you and Eddie are already there.

You’re sitting on the hood of his car, hands folded in your lap, sunglasses low on your nose, a smile on your lips as you’re nodding along to whatever Eddie is telling you. You look good… too good for just a simple breakfast at the diner. 

He parks the car and after a few deep breaths, he pulls out the keys and gets out, trying not to stare at you as he walks towards the two of you. 

“Hey guys.”

Eddie turns around, a mocking smile on his face, he crosses his arms over his chest, “took you long enough, big boy.”

Steve chuckles, scratching the back of his neck as he eyes you from the side, “yeah uh, I missed my alarm this morning and Robin woke me up in the middle of the night to bail on us, took me a while to fall back asleep after that.” 

You groan at his words, sliding off the car, you smooth down your jean shorts and push your sunglasses up into your hair, “so she keeps ditching us.” 

“She’s in love, Sweetheart,” Eddie winks at you, wiggling his brows, “she’s got better things to do.” 

You roll your eyes at his words and look over Eddie’s shoulder, meeting his eyes for the first time today. You lick your lips as your eyes move down up and down his body. 

“Hey, Lego head.”

Lego head. The silly nickname doesn’t quite suit the look in your eyes. 

“Blondie,” he nods. 

Eddie chuckles, playing with the keys in his hand as he nudges his head into the direction of the diner, “let’s go eat, I’m starving.” 

“You’re always starving, Eddie,” you snort as you are the first to start walking. 

“Yeah man, you’re always eating and you’re still starving,” Steve chuckles, walking beside Eddie, “you’re like a raccoon or something.” 

You look over your shoulder, a smile on your lips, “oh he’s definitely a little raccoon.” 

Eddie’s lips part in surprise, he looks between you both, “did you just… agree on something?” 

You scoff at his words, turning back around without another word while Steve looks down, shaking his head. The weight of Eddie’s arm around his shoulder makes him look back up, though not at you, but at Eddie, whose eyes are filled with amusement. 

“You’re not trying to steal my girl are you?” 

Steve doesn’t know what is about the words ‘my girl’ but he feels himself clenching his jaw and gritting his teeth. By the tone in Eddie’s voice, he should know that he is only teasing, but apparently his mind isn’t able to comprehend that right now. 

He feels a fire in his chest that he can’t even explain, one that only grows even more intense a few moments later, when a guy who was just leaving the diner, steps aside for you after opening the door. 

Steve can’t see your face or the looks you are giving to the man who is staring you up and down with nothing but hunger in his eyes, but by the way you walk past him without even turning your head or looking back, he knows that you’re giving him nothing. And yet, it doesn’t stop his anger when the guy keeps checking you out, shamelessly, following you with his eyes, a smirk tugging at his lips as he looks at your ass. You’re not even aware of it as it seems and it wouldn’t be the first time. 

Steve saw you at Big Buy’s the other day, you were strolling around the aisles in your cute little dress, throwing food items into your basket, completely unaware of his eyes on you. He couldn’t look away from you… even when everything you did was riling him up, whether it was the way you bend down to reach for something on the lowest shelf, the way you touched your hair or the way your dress was moving by your sides as you walked. As he caught himself staring at you, at your effortless beauty, he knew that he couldn’t be the only one – and his suspicions were confirmed, when he looked into the other aisle only to see another guy, not past his 30s staring at you, something that you weren’t aware of in the slightest. He also caught himself rolling his eyes and clenching his fists… but that’s something that he easily ignored. 

Unlike today, he can’t even help it when he passes the guy who can’t seem to tear his eyes away from you with a deathly glare on his features, feeling anger for how shameless and disrespectful his ogling is, it’s disgusting. 

“Perv,” Eddie mumbles under his breath, glaring the same way Steve does. 

The guy doesn’t even spare them a single glance, moving past them after taking another long… too long look at you before he walks out of the diner. 

Steve and Eddie roll their eyes, following you to the table that you have already picked, completely unaware of what just happened. 

You sit down in the booth, sliding over to the window. You put your sunglasses down on the table and instantly reach for the menu. 

Eddie sits down beside you, while Steve takes the seat across from you. He tries not to look at you, sinking deeper into the leather seats as he reaches for the menu, as well. 

“What are you guys doing afterwards?” Eddie asks. 

“Nothing, just gonna go back home and watch movies or something,” Steve mumbles, peeking over his menu and at you, to find you looking at him already. 

“Perfect, why don’t you two have a little bonding moment and have a movie day together?” Eddie grins, wiggling his brows at the both of you. 

Steve sees the way you scrunch your nose up at his words, scoffing and shaking your head at him like it’s the most ridiculous thing that you have ever heard, like it’s something that you don’t even want to think about. 

“We’re getting along just fine, no need for bonding time.” 

Right. Steve had been so focused on all your teasing, he almost forgot about how much you two are supposed to dislike each other. 

“Exactly,” Steve winks at Eddie, “Blondie and I are doing just fine.”

He looks back at you, his eyes meet yours, you raise your brows at him, smirking as you tilt your head. 

“Are we?” You ask softly as you blink at him. 

Steve leans closer, licking his lips, he opens his mouth to speak but Eddie cuts him off, clapping his hands. 

“Yeah, you are getting along! Now shut your mouths before you start a fight.”

You both snort at the metalhead, leaning back in your seats, neither of you saying a word, you both just look back at your menu’s, focusing on that… for now. 

The busy waitress stops by your table, telling you that she will be back to take your order in a minute, seemingly catching Eddie off guard after placing her hand on his shoulder before she scurries away again. 

He no longer looks at the menu, he finds something more interesting to look at. 

Steve’s eyes flash with amusement as he looks over at his friend, whose eyes are wide and cheeks are red, an awestruck expression all over his face. He can’t help but nudge your foot under the table, tilting his head towards Eddie when you look up with a frown.

You turn to your best friend. Your features soften, eyes flashing with surprise, you bump your shoulder into his, clearing your throat, “hey Ed’s, before you fuck this up again, don’t you want to tell Lego head about what happened?” You ask, snickering. 

Eddie blinks, turning back to you, “h-huh?” 

“You have a man to give you his opinion of what you did wrong.” 

Steve furrows his brows, looking between your amused face and his confused one, when Eddie’s eyes flash with realization and he groans in annoyance. 

“Sweetheart, he’s gonna be on my side.”

“What opinion?” Steve asks. 

You turn back to your menu, scoffing at Eddie and rolling your eyes before you glance at him, “you’ll want to kill him.”

Eddie groans, shaking his head, his curls bouncing a little. 

“You’ll understand, Harrington. You’re a man. She is… looking at it from a feminine side of things.”

Steve gives you a quizzical look, almost laughing at the exasperated look on your face. 

“Alright shoot,” he says to his friend.

Eddie presses his lips together, taking a deep breath before he folds his hand on the table and looks at him with squinted eyes, “okay so, I saw this girl at the hideout yesterday, Jeff told me to go talk to her, you know… so I did. We started talking, she was funny and all that, and you know, I always like to be a little mysterious.” 

You snort, making Eddie roll his eyes again, “shut it, Sweetheart.”

“I didn’t say anything.”

“Anyways,” Eddie sighs, glaring at you, “so, when she asked me if I was there with a girl, I just said ‘wouldn’t you like to know?’” 

Steve draws back a little, raising his brows and pursing his lips, looking perplexed. 

“Uh huh..” You murmur, keeping your eyes on Steve. 

“Eddie,” Steve shakes his head, “just uh… did it… what happened then?”

Eddie sighs again, “well, she rolled her eyes and left, but you know, she may not have a sense of humor so… it’s whatever.” 

“Munson, that girl had a sense of humor, you just have a lack of fucking tact,” Steve says, shaking his head at his friend, in pure disbelief. 

Eddie’s jaw drops at his words, while a laugh falls from your lips as you turn to look at your best friend with nothing but satisfaction on your face. 

“Told you.”

“Seriously!?” Eddie gasps, frowning. “Harrington, you were always mean to girls in the past, and you still slept with them!” 

Steve scoffs, shaking his head. 

“That was in high school, Munson! You are a grown up now, why the hell would you do that? Just tell her you were there alone or with friends!” 

Eddie’s jaw drops again, he slumps back in his seat, throwing his hands up. 

“I just thought that a mysterious persona would work better than… you know… bubbly, happy, go lucky guy, desperate to get his dick wet persona…” He whines, “no one wants to fuck me.” 

You giggle, hiding your face behind the menu. 

Steve’s lips curl into a smile, he points a finger at you, “I’m gonna have to agree with Blondie, again, you’re a fucking idiot.” 

“Don’t worry, Eds. I’ll help you,” you say, smiling, “I’ll teach you how to flirt.” 

“How are you gonna do that, Blondie? Do you even know how to flirt?” Steve snorts. 

You may be a tease, a good one at that, but a flirt? No. You’re too rough, too mean, too harsh to be a flirtatious person, you can barely hold a conversation with someone without going off at them about something, you wouldn’t even know where to begin with, unlike him. 

He is a flirty person, he has charm, he knows how to wrap a girl around his finger with just a few simple words. 

He doesn’t know what to expect, but he surely didn’t expect for you to smile at him, to shrug and give him nothing more than a glance that tells him how wrong he is. 

After the waitress comes back to take your order, leaving Eddie a blushing mess, you excuse yourself to the bathroom, only to come back with your hair now free from the scrunchie that kept it together and another coat of gloss on your lips, something that instantly catches Steve’s eyes. 

You place your elbows on the table, putting your chin into your palm, blinking at him innocently. 

The look in your eyes tells him that you’re up to no good, but he can’t look away. He leans closer to the table, licking his lips as he raises his brows at you. Both of you are unaware of Eddie, who is basically drooling over the pretty waitress, too distracted to notice the looks you are giving to each other.

“The waitress, is she from Hawkins? Never seen her in my fucking life,” Eddie murmurs in awe. 

Steve turns his head to look at the woman, a gasp nearly tears from his lips when he feels your foot on his calf and you pull his attention back on you, he stares at you with wide eyes. 

Smirking in satisfaction, you pull your foot back and look down at your nails.

“I-I don’t know, Munson, not familiar.” He stutters without looking away. 

Steve knew that this would happen, that you would tease him in one way or another, but he didn’t know yet, just where you would take this today. 

When your milkshakes arrive at the table, both you and Steve watch Eddie with amusement as he stares up at the blonde waitress, eyes moving back and forth between her face and her chest, not knowing what to look at first. 

His eyes get stuck on the dainty cross necklace around her neck, seemingly growing more intrigued by her, his dark eyes meeting her blue ones. 

Steve narrows his eyes at you, almost laughing when you look at him, at the same time. 

Eddie’s cheeks are even more flushed than before now, his eyes wide, lips parted. The girl presses her lips together, trying not to giggle at the look on his face. 

“Your food will come right up,” she says, looking between you all before her eyes meet Eddie’s again as she takes the last milkshake off the tray, putting it on the table and sliding it towards him. 

He clears his throat, wrapping his fingers around the glass before she can even let go. 

Both you and Steve watch the way she smiles down at Eddie and at the fingers brushing against hers. 

“Thanks, Sweetheart,” he smirks at her, surprising both you and Steve with the confidence in his voice. 

The girl smiles in surprise, before she turns around, walking away from the table but not without giving Eddie another glance, his lips curl into a bigger smirk and he waves his fingers at her.

Your mouth drops and so does Steve’s, both of you, looking at each other again, with stunned and puzzled expressions on your faces.

“Dude,” Steve mumbles, slowly turning to face his friend, “tell me… how did you fuck this up again… at the hideout, I mean?” 

Eddie only looks back when the girl disappears into the kitchen, “the girl at the hideout just wasn’t the right one.”

“Oh, and this one is?” Steve chuckles, pointing his thumb to where the waitress walked off to. 

“Yeah,” Eddie says, dreamily. “She’s so…”

“Hot?” You ask as you reach for your milkshake, grabbing the red and white straw between your thumb and your pointer finger.

“Gorgeous,” he blushes. 

Your lips tug into a smile, you bring your hand up to his face, pinching his cheek, “aw, look at you.” 

He swats your hand away, snorting. 

“I thought you didn’t know how to flirt, you’re doing such a good job, keep it up, Eds.” 

“What can I say, I’m full of surprises,” Eddie winks at you before he looks away, eyes searching for the waitress again. 

“He doesn’t need your help after all,” Steve laughs, tilting his head, “not that you’d be much of a help anyways.” 

You squint your eyes at him, shrugging at his words, and you surprise him with your silence. 

He watches the way you lean forward, placing your elbow on the table as you finally wrap your lips around the straw. Your eyelashes flutter and you tap your red fingernails against the glass, a moan falling from your lips. 

“Mmmh, that’s so good.” 

Steve nearly jumps from his seat, the sound making his stomach flutter, he clenches his fists, staring at you with wide eyes. 

There’s no smirk on your lips, no mischief behind your eyes, nothing but innocence is etched into your features – you’re not even teasing him, it was nothing but a genuine reaction to the sweet drink. And it’s something that frustrates him even more. 

You reach for the maraschino cherry next, popping it into your mouth before you lick the whipped cream off your finger. 

Steve’s breath hitches in his throat, he shifts in his seat, trying to look away from your lips… that are still wrapped around your finger but he can’t, his eyes are stuck, his body is stuck, he can’t move, all that he can do is watch you.

And then, you look towards him, eyes flashing with surprise when you find him staring. He hopes to see you blushing but instead, a smirk tugs at your lips as you release your finger, scooping up some more whipped cream before you bring it up to your lips. 

And this is where the real teasing begins. 

Steve nearly gasps when you hold eye contact this time as you lick the cream off your fingers, letting out another, softer moan. 

Holy fuck. 

Steve’s eyes darken, he swallows harshly, clenching his jaw in anger. 

Eddie is too busy with his own milkshake, ogling the waitress as she talks to customers at the bar, completely unaware of how you both eyefuck each other, the way Steve can’t take his eyes off of you. 

By the look in your eyes, Steve knows how much fun you’re having with this, you know how much it frustrates him, you know what you’re doing to him. 

And as though, all of this wasn’t bad enough already. You then accidentally drop some of the whipped cream on your chest. 

“Oops,” you purr, giving him an innocent look through your lashes. 

The warmth in his chest only grows more intense, spreading across his whole body, filling him up with need and a deep hunger that keeps growing and growing, one that can only be satiated in one way – he needs you, just once, he needs to have you, he needs to taste you, he needs to fuck you, he needs you out of his system for good. 

He had enough of this, of all this teasing. 

He would fuck you right there on this table if he could.

But, despite your teasing, despite the look in your eyes, despite your little act, he is still not sure about where you stand. He knows how you react to his touches, to his teasing, but a part of him fears rejection if he does make a move. 

You are barely even friends, and the thought of making a fool of himself, in front of you, makes him want to crawl into a hole. 

You are both playing this game, but while he knows what he wants, he doesn’t know what you want. 

Maybe you just enjoy this little back and forth, waiting for him to break first before you move along and pretend like nothing ever happened. Maybe you don’t even expect anything to come out of this. Maybe you don’t even want him the way he wants you. Maybe you just like to tease him because you know that it's riling him up. 

So what is left for him to do? 

Stop this game and move on? Or… keep going and wait for something more to happen? 

He’s had enough of your teasing, but he’s far from losing, there is still some power left in him… some. 

He won’t sit here and let you get away with this. 

So despite the uncomfortable strain in his pants, despite the burning in his skin, he plasters a smirk on his blushing face and reaches forward, keeping his eyes locked with yours as he mimics you, he grabs his glass and he reaches for the cherry on his milkshake, purposely dropping some whipped cream on the table as he puts the cherry in his mouth. He chews slowly, licking his finger tips while he watches you slowly, the way your smile slowly falls, the way your eyes widen a little. 

He bites back the smirk as he scoops up the whipped cream off the table, with both his middle finger and ring finger, bringing them up to his lips, he looks back into your wide eyes as he places them into his mouth, watching the way you break eye contact to look at his lips. 

Your throat bobs as you swallow, tightening your grip on your glass as you watch the way he licks his fingers slowly. 

He can see the way you shift in your seat, the way your breathing gets heavier and your eyes darken, the way you lick your lips and how flustered you get as you look back into his eyes. 

You are pressing your thighs together, he just knows you are. 

He pulls his fingers out of his mouth, smirking at you in satisfaction while you still sit there, frozen in place. He breaks eye contact, looking down at his vanilla milkshake as though nothing happened.

“You gotta give this one a ride home, Harrington,” Eddie mumbles, pointing at you without tearing his eyes away from the bar, “I think I’m gonna stay here a little longer.”

You clear your throat. 

Steve expects you to be more… nervous, to hear your voice wavering, but instead, it sounds confident, filled with yet more teasing as you open your mouth to speak. 

“Oh, I would love a ride home with Stevie,” you smile at him innocently as your foot touches his calf again, but this time, it doesn’t just stay there, you move it up, just a little, but enough to nearly make him choke on his drink. 

“So you can keep getting on his nerves?” Eddie chuckles. 

You lick your lips, smirking as you nod your head slowly, “exactly.”

Yeah, you don’t really do this anymore, getting on each other’s nerves, you both have found something so much better and much more interesting to do to one another. 

“You know I always win, Blondie,” Steve says so very confidently, like he isn’t slowly losing his mind because his want for you is beginning to consume him entirely. 

You tilt your head at him as you bite your lip, the sleeve of your blouse slowly sliding down your shoulder, making him gulp. 

“Do you?” You ask, batting your lashes at him, provoking him with the look on your face. 

He bites the insides of his cheeks, nodding at your words, “mhmm.”

A breathy chuckle falls from your lips, you shrug and lean back, “we’ll see.”

Eddie doesn’t know that you’re talking about something entirely else now, but he couldn’t care less, when he’s got his eyes set on someone that stole his breath away. 

He uses every second he gets with the pretty waitress to flirt, whether it’s through glances when she passes by or through his charming words when she delivers the food to the table. 

He happily eats his burger and his fries, eyes following the blonde wherever she goes, completely blind to what’s happening right next to and in front of him. 

You and Steve keep staring at one another, eyes filled with intense need, hands itching to reach out to the other. 

Steve feels the longing inside his chest, intensifying as the minutes go by, driving him insane. It gets to a point where he can’t wait to get the hell out of this diner so he can go home and take care of himself. He is not sure if he had ever felt this desperate before – he surely never had to rush home to jerk off, but that’s what he feels like now, like he’s going to explode if he sits here any longer. 

The moment you decide on leaving, Steve nearly throws himself out of his seat, feeling no patience left inside of him. 

“I got this covered,” Eddie announces, pulling out his wallet as he gets out of the booth so you can get out, “you two can go.” 

You grab your sunglasses and get up, putting your hand on Eddie’s shoulder, “I see what you’re trying to do, you wanna get rid of us so you can flirt with the hot blonde.” 

He wiggles his brows, smirking at you proudly, “gotta score a date with my dream girl.” 

Steve chuckles, grabbing the car keys from his pocket, he smirks at Eddie, “just don’t mess it up again.” 

Eddie shakes his head, “nah never.” 

“Alright casanova, call me and tell me how it went.” 

“Call you?” He frowns, “I’ll be there to raid your kitchen tonight, sweets.” 

You step away from him, brushing past Steve, “alright raccoon, I’ll see you later then.” 

“See ya,” he chuckles. 

With a sigh, Steve looks at Eddie, playing with his keys and giving him a nod. 

“Good luck, man.”

“Thanks,” Eddie winks, “and don’t kill each other!” He jokes, ignoring the weird looks he’s given from an older couple two booths away. 

“Don’t worry, we’re not at that point anymore.” 

You’re at a whole different point now, one that doesn’t make him angry, not exactly, just one that drives him up the wall. 

Steve stares at your hips, at the way your shorts hug your body so nicely, the way your ass looks so good in them. He forces his eyes away, feeling a little startled when you turn around to face him before you open the door, a friendly smile appears on your face and he realizes that you aren’t looking at him, but at Eddie’s ‘dream girl’, waving goodbye at the girl before you step out. 

He feels the sudden need to talk, hoping that you won’t tease him any further in the car, because if you do, he isn’t sure if he will manage to control himself the way he did, the whole time at the diner. 

He rubs the back of his neck, walking down the steps, he clears his throat. 

“Do you think he will manage to score a date?”

You slow down as you put your sunglasses on, “yeah, I’m pretty sure he will.”

Steve chuckles, nodding. 

“She seems nice, and she’s pretty,” you say.

So are you. Steve thinks to himself. 

“She’s got the kind of blonde hair you wanted when you ruined your hair with the blonde dye, huh?”

Steve can’t see your eyes behind your sunglasses, but he can see the amused look on your features as your lips curl into a smile. 

He ignores the way it feels when you step closer to him, when your hand brushes against his knuckles, sending chills throughout his whole body. 

“Actually, I wanted it even lighter, and how would I know that the pictures on the box dye were lies, it said it lightens up any hair color to that specific color!” 

Steve laughs at you, “what color were you hoping for?” 

You shrug, stepping away from him again when you walk around his car to the passenger side. 

“I wanted like a Dolly Parton or uh… Heather Locklear kind of blonde.” 

He unlocks the car and opens his door, raising his brows at you, “wow, you should have gone to a hair salon, Blondie.”

You lift your sunglasses, rolling your eyes at him, “it was a spontaneous decision, I thought I could handle that myself, I’m definitely never touching hair dye again.”

“Just call me, next time,” he winks at you as he gets into the car, “I’m a pro at doing hair.” 

You laugh at him as you get in as well, “didn’t know you were a hairdresser, Harrington.” 

“They don’t call me ‘the hair’ for nothing.” 

“Oh wow. I wouldn’t trust you with my hair, who knows what color you’d dye my hair to.”

“Maybe I’d get it to the Dolly Parton blonde that you wanted.” 

“Yeah, right!” You scoff at him, “cause you’re such an expert!” 

A smile tugs at his lips, it almost feels normal, sitting here in his car with you, talking like this, it almost distracts him enough from the strong tension between you both, from the pull that is dragging him towards you, more and more. 

Despite the frustration that he feels from all your teasing, he cannot help but want to keep playing the little game. 

The sun is shining brightly, pulling down the sun visor won’t be enough – how convenient it is that he keeps his sunglasses in the glove compartment. He could ask you to get them but instead, he moves closer, “I’m sorry,” he murmurs before he places his hand on your knee as he reaches forward so he can get his ray-ban’s. 

Satisfaction rushes through him when he hears you sucking in a sharp breath. 

But, his longing intensifies when he gets a whiff of your perfume and feels how soft your skin actually is. 

He clearly never thinks things through, his little plans always backfire. 

The want to wrap his hand around your thigh and keep it there is so strong… so goddamn strong, but he pulls away begrudgingly, holding back the smirk when he feels your eyes on him. He puts the sunglasses on, and finally starts the car. 

Your silence surprises him, but he knows that it’s something that won’t stay for long. 

Hungry Like The Wolf by Duran Duran starts playing and Steve almost wants to laugh at the irony, this is exactly what he feels like right now, hungry like a fucking wolf, hungry for you. 

If you had been any other girl, he would’ve made a move on you, a long long time ago. He would have flirted more obviously, he would’ve taken your hand in his, he would’ve brushed your hair out of your face before leaning in to kiss you.

But you’re not just any girl, you’re… you. 

You love this little game, and no matter how flustered you get, no matter the looks you are giving him, he still struggles to read you, he still struggles to figure out whether you want what he wants or not. 

He is waiting for a sign, but it’s almost like he’s blind to anything you give to him. 

He holds the steering wheel tightly, keeping his other hand on the gearstick, dangerously close to your thigh. He keeps sneaking glances at you, at your soft skin, at the way you press your legs together, at the way your fingers play with the loose string on your shorts. 

Steve’s face grows hot, his heart beating faster in his chest. 

He almost feels relieved when your house comes into view, and he pulls up into your driveway. 

“So… what are you doing today?” You ask as you unbuckle your seatbelt, “besides having a movie day by yourself.” 

You turn your body towards him, not making any moves to get out of the car yet. 

“Uh… I don’t know,” he lies, his cheeks glowing red. 

He already knows what he’s gonna do the moment he walks through his front door. 

You take your sunglasses off, biting your lip as your eyes move up and down his body, making him shift uncomfortably, yet again. 

“Well, I’m going to lay out in the sun, in my new red bikini.” 

Steve’s eyes widen, and he almost starts drooling at the images that start forming in his mind. 

Images of you… half naked. 

“We should have a pool party at some point,” you smile, blinking at him as you start inching closer to him, looking down at his lips. 

“Uh huh…”

“But anyways, I should get going,” you sigh, catching him by surprise when you place your hand on his thigh, so dangerously close to where he needs you the most, “thanks for the ride, Stevie.” 

And as though that wasn’t bad enough. 

You almost cause his heart to stop beating, when your face is only inches away from him now, and you press your lips against his cheek, kissing him, completely shocking him, leaving him a stuttering mess. 

He lost all ability to speak, all he can do is stare at you, as his skin tingles and his heart races. 

You smirk at him, eying his red cheeks. 

“Who would’ve thought that Steve Harrington would ever blush for me,” you say smugly, before you pull away and get out of the car, giggles falling from your lips. Without another word, you close the door and walk away, looking over your shoulder one more time, still giggling. 

Fuck. 

His frustration turns into anger when the realization starts creeping in slowly. 

The smug look on your face, the smirk and your stupid giggles prove his point, that you did all of this not because you wanted him, but because you wanted to win this fucking game. 

That’s all it is, that’s all it ever was. 

A game. 

He doesn’t know what the feeling in his chest is, whether it’s the feeling of annoyance or rejection, but it only irritates him even further, especially when all he can think about is still you. 

You in your stupid red bikini, lying under the sun, looking pretty and hot… looking like someone he can never have, not even for a single night. 

He is angry, angry at himself for still wanting you, for needing you, for wishing that he could feel your bare body underneath him, for wishing to hear your moans, your voice calling out his name, your hands clinging to his body, fingers tugging at his hair. 

Despite the rejection, he feels his stupid jeans getting tighter, his dick straining against the fabric, making him feel uncomfortable and so needy to a point that the moment he gets home, he rushes upstairs and into the bathroom. 

He slams the door shut and presses his back against it, hastily unbuckling his belt, the clinking and his heavy breathing being the only sounds to fill the room… for now. He pushes down his boxers and his pants, just enough so he can pull his dick out – his tip is an angry red, already leaking with pre cum, he spits into his hand before he wraps his hand around his aching cock. 

That is all that it takes for a needy whimper to fall from his lips. 

He closes his eyes, throwing his head back against the door as he starts jerking off slowly. 

Images of you curse and bless his mind at the same time. 

He wonders what it would be like to feel your hand around his dick or what it would be like to feel your lips on his neck, your whispers in his ear as you take care of him. 

He furrows his brows, lips parting as his moans get louder and he begins to move his hand faster and faster, squeezing his eyes shut. 

He pictures you on your knees for him, your hands replaced by your lips as he shuts you up with his cock in your mouth, silencing you once and for all, while tears stream down your cheeks.

“Oh fuck…” Steve whimpers, getting lost in pleasure. 

He wanted nothing more than to bend you over the table when you started teasing him with the stupid whipped cream, but all he can think about now is you on your knees worshiping him. 

His muscles tighten as he increases the tempo, using his thumb to rub the slit as he imagines it being the tip of your tongue as you look at him with big and teary eyes. 

And he doesn’t know for how long he was imagining you like this, but it doesn’t matter because he is soon spilling in his hand, a loud groan escaping his lips as well as a shaky breath, the back of his head hitting the door as he tries to ease his breathing. 

Maybe three minutes passed, or twenty, but it didn’t matter. His cum is already on his hand and in your honor. 

But this didn’t satiate his hunger, nor his lust for you in the slightest. 

Nothing that he could possibly do will. 

He can imagine you and take care of himself all he wants, but it won’t change the way he wants you, the way he craves you. 

He knows that there is only one way to get rid of this.

Tomorrow he will put his frustration away. That’s all it is, frustration. He just needs to let it out. He needs to fucking breathe again. 

Yeah. Tomorrow. 

♡

tagging friends and mutuals

@taintedcigs @mysticmunson @wroteclassicaly @maroon-cardigan @munson-mjstan @sherrylyn628 @munsonlore @ibellcipem @joekeerysmoles

[yeomongi]

𝐚𝐥𝐥 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐲𝐨𝐮 — 𐙚

genre : fluff! :3

pairing : yeosang x you

word count : ~ 1.3k

warnings : period talk (mentions of blood, menstruation, & related products), mild pain such as cramps & discomfort, light teasing, names (baby)

synopsis : a comforting slice-of-life moment where yeosang rushes to take care of y/n during her period. from buying an overwhelming amount of pads to showering her with snacks, a heating pad, and sweet words, he does everything he can to make her feel better, proving just how much he loves her.

note : first time writing fluff hehe!! and i’m glad it was about my bias :3 this is actually based off a request, i just changed it up a tad bit! i’m happy with how this one turned out, and it was pretty comforting to write given the fact i’m actually about to start my period :| i hope you guys enjoy!! interactions and reblogs appreciated! <3

the first thing you felt when you woke up was a dull ache in your lower abdomen. you didn’t even need to open your eyes to know what was happening. a frustrated groan escaped your lips as you shifted slightly, only to wince at the sharp pang that followed.

lifting the sheets hesitantly, you glanced down and confirmed your suspicions. there it was — the telltale bloodstain marking the start of your period.

“great,” you muttered, your voice hoarse from sleep.

it was the kind of morning you dreaded — no energy, a body that felt like it was actively rebelling against you, and a mess to deal with before you could even think about the day ahead.

you reached over to your phone on the nightstand, squinting at the bright screen as you unlocked it. without a second thought, you called yeosang.

the phone barely rang twice before his warm, familiar voice came through. “good morning, love. what’s up?”

you exhaled a dramatic sigh. “it’s here.”

there was a brief pause, and then you heard the subtle shift in his tone, filled with concern. “your period?”

“mm-hmm,” you confirmed weakly.

“are you okay? do you need me to come home?” his voice had an edge of panic now, and you could picture him sitting at his desk, brows furrowed as he worried about you.

“i’m fine,” you reassured him, though the cramp that twisted in your stomach told a different story. “i just... don’t feel like moving.”

“stay in bed,” he said quickly, the decision made in an instant. “i’ll leave work early. i’ll take care of everything, okay?”

you didn’t argue. you couldn’t even if you wanted to, too tired to do anything but mumble a soft, “okay. thanks, yeo.”

“i’ll be there soon, baby. just rest.”

he hung up before you could protest, and you set your phone down, curling up beneath the blankets. the ache in your stomach was relentless, but the thought of yeosang coming home to take care of you brought a tiny smile to your face.

meanwhile, yeosang was a man on a mission. the moment he stepped out of the office, he was focused solely on you.

he stopped by the store first, pulling out his phone to check the list of things you might need. pads, tampons, chocolate, snacks, a heating pad — the mental checklist grew longer with each step he took into the brightly lit aisles.

standing in front of the wall of period products, however, his confidence wavered. there were so many options.

“how are there this many kinds of pads?” he muttered to himself, staring at the rows of different shapes, sizes, and packaging.

he tried to recall if you had ever mentioned a specific brand or type, but his mind drew a blank. not wanting to risk getting the wrong one, he began tossing one of everything into his basket.

“regular, super, ultra-thin... what does overnight mean?” he mumbled, squinting at the labels. after a moment’s thought, he shrugged and added it to the growing pile.

when he finally made it to the checkout, the cashier raised an eyebrow at the mountain of products in his basket, but yeosang didn’t care.

next, he headed to the snack aisle. he grabbed your favorite chocolates, candies, and even a small carton of ice cream he knew you loved. then, on a whim, he picked up a fluffy blanket he saw on display, thinking it might bring you some extra comfort.

by the time he got home, his arms were loaded with bags. he pushed the door open carefully and called out, “y/n, i’m back!”

you peeked your head out from under the blanket on the couch, where you had migrated since calling him. your face lit up at the sight of him, and he smiled back, his heart swelling at the way you always managed to look so beautiful, even when you weren’t feeling your best.

“you didn’t have to get all this,” you said as he set the bags down and began unpacking them.

“yes, i did,” he replied firmly, holding up the blanket triumphantly. “this is your period survival kit.”

you glanced over at the pile of products he had set on the table and couldn’t help but let out a laugh. “yeosang... did you seriously buy one of everything?”

he looked up from where he was unpacking, his face already turning pink. “i wasn’t sure what kind you used,” he admitted sheepishly, scratching the back of his neck. “there were so many options, and they all looked... important?”

you reached over and picked up a random pack, holding it up for emphasis. “these are overnight pads. you thought i’d need three different brands of these?”

he opened his mouth to respond but then caught sight of the amused look on your face and groaned. “i panicked, okay? i didn’t want to come home with the wrong thing and make you feel worse.”

you couldn’t stop laughing now, hugging one of the fluffy pillows on the couch as you tried to catch your breath. “so your solution was just... everything? yeo, this is enough pads to last me a year.”

he crossed his arms, pouting slightly. “i was trying to be thorough!”

“and i love you for it,” you said, reaching out to tug on his sleeve. “but maybe next time, just text me and ask?”

“noted,” he said with a dramatic sigh, though the corners of his mouth twitched as he fought back a smile. “but at least now you’re stocked up for the apocalypse.”

you couldn’t help but laugh, even as another cramp rolled through you. “you’re amazing, you know that?”

he knelt in front of you, pressing a soft kiss to your forehead. “you’re the amazing one,” he said, brushing a stray strand of hair from your face. “you go through this every month, and you’re still the strongest person i know.”

his words brought a warmth to your chest that almost made you forget about the pain.

“okay,” he said, clapping his hands together. “first, let’s get you more comfortable.”

he handed you the heating pad, plugging it in and adjusting it against your stomach as you leaned back against the couch cushions. next, he brought you a glass of water and some painkillers, which you took gratefully.

“and now,” he said with a grin, holding up the chocolate he had bought, “the most important part.”

you laughed again, accepting the treat and taking a bite. the rich, sweet flavor melted on your tongue, and for the first time that morning, you felt a bit of relief.

yeosang sat beside you, pulling you gently into his arms. “let me know if there’s anything else you need, okay?”

you nestled closer to him, feeling the steady rise and fall of his chest as he held you. his presence alone was enough to soothe you, even more than the heating pad or chocolate.

“thank you, yeo,” you murmured, your voice muffled against his shirt.

“always, baby,” he said softly, pressing another kiss to your temple. “i’m here for you, no matter what.”

the rest of the day passed in a haze of warmth and comfort. yeosang insisted on taking care of everything — cooking you a simple but hearty meal, refilling your water, and even tidying up the living room while you rested.

when you finally felt a little more like yourself, you looked over at him and smiled.

“i don’t know what i did to deserve you,” you said, your voice filled with genuine gratitude.

he looked up from where he was folding a blanket and smiled back at you, his expression soft and full of love. “you deserve everything, y/n.”

and in that moment, as the pain in your stomach eased and the warmth of his love surrounded you, you believed him.

[kxtsukixoxo]

”boy i know what you desire, oh you’re such a bad bad liar”

PART 1

⋆.˚ ft. dabi

“open up (y/n) i don’t have time for your games”

“i don’t have time for this shigs” you removed your glasses, walking towards your back door. the only people who knew about this side of your house, was the league and the only time they ever needed you was when they needed medical attention. you were a huge asset to shigariki and his bandits, atleast according to Kurogiri.

opening the door, you noticed a splayed collapsing figure thrown across shigarakis shoulder, “quick.” was all that left Shigarakis lips, you let out a deep breath rubbing the bridge of your nose, “one quick text wouldn’t hurt y’know, i don’t even have the room prepared” “i’ll pay double the price, i need him alive no matter what.” taking the deepest breath you possibly could, you made sure he knew you were pissed about this “toss him on the table” while you slid on a pair of nitrile gloves, grabbing a metal tray for whatever you need. Shigaraki held down the dark haired man, while he groaned in pain. From the many years you’ve worked with Tomura, he’s never showed this much value towards a person, you couldn’t imagine how valuable the guy is to him. “what happened to him?” “shot.”

deciding you should sedate the big guy, you grabbed a sedative from the bar fridge, grabbing a needle, flicking the bottle twice and transferring the drug. You made your way to him, “hold him down, i need him to calm down before i do anything else” Shigaraki nodded as held onto the man’s legs, you noticed he was covered in scars, adorned by piercings, dazed due to the amount of blood he’d already lost, looking at you through half shut eyes.

tending to his wound, you worked through layers of ripped and wounded skin, “just one bullet?” “yeah” “he’s lucky it’s only one” removing the gloves, you tossed them into the trash, not bothering to check if they actually made into the trash or flipped onto the floor. “i need him to be supervised at all times, he’s strictly on bed rest for the next 24 hours at least” Shigaraki looked at you in disbelief “you’re on thin ice with me shiggy” sighing as you decided to let him rest in your house til he was finally okay to move, Shigaraki left you alone with the absolute stranger, you don’t even know his name, how should you trust him? Kurogiri never mentioned him before, you had no idea the league was expanding. You decided to let the man rest comfortably in your bed, your quirk allowing you to be able to sustain his heavy weight ontop of your shoulders. You placed him carefully on top of your sheets, leaving him to rest while you scrubbed your bloody floor and the steel table.

two bottles of bleach and endless squirts of dish soap later, it looked like the mess never happened. You collapsed onto your couch, eyes drooping as tiredness washed over your face, the muscles in your body relaxed as you lulled into a deep sleep.

“where the fuck am i?” your eyes fluttered open, as you scanned the figure towering over you, noticing a blue flame exerting from his palm,“calm down hotcakes, i saved your life” you chuckled as the flame died “who are you?” “well aren’t you talkative, you should really sit down i don’t recommend moving considering the damage your body endured” stretching your body, deciding to finally get up, just before you could, he held you down, the flame in his palm igniting once again. “who are you.” you shrugged, “i suggest you put your flames away, it doesn’t make you any more of a man, and by hurting me, you disadvantage the league” he watched you carefully, narrowing his eyes as you grabbed a cig from your pocket and lit the end with the flame exerting from his palm “quite a mouth, huh” he chuckled as he grabbed the cig from you and took a drag “you really shouldn’t be smoking” you watched as he titled his head back, smoke leaving his lips.

“(y/n)”

“what?”

“my name.”

“dabi”

dabi would stop by every week with minor injuries, it confused you deeply, small wounds that he could stitch up himself or with the help of an acquaintance but he refused to. eventually you’d wait for him almost everyday, waiting for the rhythmic rap of his knuckles agaisnt your door to let him in, today was one of those days, you watched him walk into the room, clutching his bleeding arm. “i’m starting to think you have a little crush on me dabi” “don’t flatter yourself dollface, i’m just terrible at this stuff” you pouted mockingly “aw, i bet Kurogiri could stitch you up pretty good, don’t ya think?” he chuckled as you cleaned his wound attentively and carefully, “i like it better when you do it” “i know you do, there’s no other explanation as to why you show up at my door at 2 in the morning to stitch up your wounds when you could just ask one of shiggys bandits”

“go on a date with me”

[roosterforme]

The Intern Part 1 | Rooster x Reader

Summary: After you try to delay the inevitable, you begin your job search. At least that way you'll be able to get out of your father's house and away from everyone who acts like you're incapable of doing anything on your own. When Bradley pursues you, in part to bolster his own agenda, he's pretty convinced you're more capable than most.

Warnings: Language, reader's dad has a name (eventually 18+)

Length: 3700 words

Pairing: Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x Female Reader

Find the Prologue here.

The Intern masterlist. Check out my masterlist for more. Banner by @mak-32

Your father wasted no time over the breakfast that his chef made. You were still in your pajamas which consisted of a white silk camisole and shorts set, but he was already in a charcoal suit and tie, ready to seize the day. Or at the very least, your freedom.

"You need an internship," he said firmly as he smeared jelly on a piece of toast. "You need to complete a professional internship to show everyone that you are clever and talented and can think on your feet. You need to show them in person that your last name has nothing to do with it."

This was going to be a lot more involved than you originally thought. You carefully cut into your poached egg and asked, "So I can't just intern with you?"

He sighed and gave you a bland look. "I would love to have you with me all day and show you the ropes at Avio Technologies, but you already know that's not possible. You need to find a different department or a different company altogether." 

You chewed your food and shot him a bland look of your own. It was almost amusing that he thought he could outwit you when he was the one who taught you how to play all of his games. "Maybe we could talk about this tomorrow?"

"You already got an extra day out of me, Sweetheart. My generosity has been all used up." 

He looked almost amused now, so you knew you were skating on thin ice as you said, "I think an internship that starts in September would be the way to go."

When he set his knife down and bit into his toast, you straightened your back while he chewed. He took his time responding, and when he did, he asked, "And what exactly would you do during June, July and August?"

"There's a lot to be said for a little relaxation, Daddy," you told him in your most professional voice. "I've spent the last six years working nearly every day."

"And I've spent the last thirty five years working nearly every day. Please, get to your point."

You folded your hands in front of yourself and said, "I would be a better intern if I were well rested."

He wiped his mouth with his napkin and stood, taking one last sip of his coffee. If you or he wanted more to eat, his chef would make it. And you could see his housekeeper standing in the kitchen doorway ready to run in and clean up after him as soon as he left the dining room. All of it made you want to scream. You weren't even sure you wanted this lifestyle. 

"Are you aware of the stipulations on your trust fund?" your father asked you in a voice laced with more than warning. You could feel the blood rush from your face. You'd been waiting your entire life for that money, and not because you wanted to use it the same way he did. 

"Yes."

He nodded at you before he kissed your forehead. "Then make your decisions accordingly. I'll be back in a few hours."

As soon as he was out of the dining room, his housekeeper had her hands on his empty plate and coffee cup, and you abandoned the rest of your food for the relative solace of your bedroom. It wasn't even nine o'clock yet, but it was close to lunchtime on the east coast. Maybe you could call one of your friends from school, but they were probably starting internships of their own this week. You glanced out your windows at the pool, but the landscaping crew was out there with leaf blowers, so you just flopped down onto your bed.

What did you want out of an internship? You wanted it to be like school. You had no problem with hard work, but you preferred it to come with a hefty side of fun. Cocktails, dancing, late night dinners, boys, shopping. You weren't too picky about how that fun was served up, but you were absolutely certain there was more to life than working nonstop. And nobody in their right mind needed as much money as your father had.

You reached for your computer and rolled onto your stomach. The last place you wanted to intern was at Avio Technologies where your supervisor would report every detail of your work back to him. Even if you found a department that had nothing to do with what he was working on, you'd be screwed. Your dad knew everyone. He'd find out if you forgot to cover your mouth when you coughed or yawned too loudly. No, you needed to find something without your dad's help.

After you update your résumé and your LinkedIn profile, you thought about contacting that hot recruiter you met in grad school. You were pretty sure you still had his number in your phone contacts. Maybe you should make a to-do list. Or maybe you should go back to bed now that your dad was gone. You ended up lounging around for so long that your stomach was growling because of your unfinished breakfast. 

"Fuck it," you murmured, strolling out of your room still in your silk pajamas. If the groundskeepers saw you as you walked past the French doors, then it was their own fault. And honestly, you were more covered up now than you were when you were wearing your bathing suit anyway.

The fact that you had to sneak into the kitchen so nobody tried to help you toast a slice of bread was beyond annoying, but you tiptoed through the house anyway. You ended up walking around as you ate the toast, probably leaving a trail of crumbs, but at least this way the housekeeper would be entertained again. You wondered what the staff did all day long when it was only your dad here. He could literally take care of himself if he tried, but why try when you're worth billions?

You popped the last bite into your mouth and started dancing through the foyer to the song that was stuck in your head. You did a few spins and pirouettes, and then you started making up an actual routine as you hummed. When you heard the front door open, you tried to freeze, but your foot caught on the marble floor, and you stumbled awkwardly. Just when you braced yourself for a lecture from your father, you were greeted by deep laughter and amused brown eyes instead.

"Oh," you said, pressing your palm to your chest as you regained your footing. "It's just you."

"Just me," Bradley Bradshaw replied with a shrug. He surveyed your body, and you could tell he was trying his best not to react to your outfit. Or lack thereof.

You crossed your arms over your chest. "Yes. I'm still in my pajamas."

"I didn't say a word about it," he replied immediately, those brown eyes suddenly feigning innocence. 

You knew your shorts left nothing to the imagination. You were also very aware that your nipples were probably peaked against your silk top, but you kept reminding yourself you were wearing less than this yesterday in the pool. Bradley however was wearing another designer suit that hugged him in all the right places, and his tie was once again a little too loose for you to take him completely seriously. His hair was a bit mussed today, too. Maybe his wife or girlfriend had run her fingers through it, but if that was the case, then he shouldn't be looking at you this way.

"What are you doing here?" you asked him. 

His hands were back on his narrow hips as he replied, "Supposed to have lunch with your father."

"At least the chef and housekeeper will have something to do," you muttered to yourself. Then a little louder you said, "My dad's not back yet, and I hope you don't expect me to entertain you."

He chuckled. "Of course not. You look busy as hell dancing around. I definitely wouldn't want to interrupt that."

"Correct," you replied, tipping your chin in the air. "I've got no time for nonsense. Unless... did you bring your Armani swim trunks? It's a little early in the day for skinny dipping." You took a step closer to him. You couldn't pinpoint exactly why it was so fun to tease him, but he looked down at the floor and blushed a little bit before he replied which made you feel even bolder. 

He met your eyes and said, "How embarrassing. I'm too early for lunch, and I'm too early for skinny dipping." His voice was a little softer now and you bit your lip, which drew his gaze to your mouth.

"You could always come back later."

His amused smile from yesterday was back as he said, "You really are a bit of a brat."

Then your father was right there, closing the front door behind him with a flourish as you took a step away from Bradley. He hadn't moved an inch, and his eyes were still on yours even as your father said his name.

"Sir," Bradley replied, turning toward him and holding out his hand. Your father shook it before patting him on the shoulder. 

"We've been over this before, Bradley. You can call me Ted. We've been working together for a while."

"Ted," Bradley repeated, and you could tell that your father was secretly pleased by this show of respect. You wanted to roll your eyes, and then you realized that you were standing in the foyer in your pajama set at noon, and that was going to be a problem. 

When your father turned toward you, his gaze was unamused. "Have you done anything today?"

"It's only lunchtime, Daddy," you replied. "But I updated my résumé."

"You have something better than a résumé," he snapped. "You have connections. Use them. I want you to have solidified an internship by the end of the week."

"But-"

He cut you right off, and you could feel the heat rising to your face as Bradley looked at you a little sympathetically. 

"I don't generally deal with people who force me to repeat myself," your father said. "And I think you'll find I'm not the only one."

Now you were getting a little angry. He was talking to you like you just tanked a business deal for him. "I'm not some random person from your company."

But you could tell he wasn't listening now. He wouldn't really listen again until you had a job. "Once you find yourself an internship, I think you'll see that whomever you're working under won't take kindly to that sort of attitude. Now go get dressed," he said, dismissing you as he nodded toward the dining room and started walking. 

You were left standing there with your hands on your silk covered hips and your bottom lip held firmly between your teeth. Bradley was giving you a curious look as he started to follow your father. "I'll see you around?"

"Yeah," you replied, barely meeting his eyes. Your dad embarrassed you in front of him. And sure, maybe you should have been dressed for the day, but you just got back to California. You wanted a chance to catch your breath. But now you were standing there watching both of their retreating forms with a bad taste in your mouth.

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

After an uneventful lunch with Ted, Bradley walked slowly back through his house. It was really more of a mansion or an estate, something that Bradley supposed he himself could afford now if he so desired, but he was used to his condo in Mission Hills. And he just couldn't picture having staff living with him. 

He found that his head was on a swivel, peeking out the French doors to check the pool area and glancing up the main stairs to see if you were still around. A smile always crept to his lips whenever he thought about you, and it was obvious why. You were clearly a bit of a handful. Definitely a touch bratty. Old enough to know better, but young enough to not give too much of a damn. And you always made Bradley laugh. 

At Christmastime, you were tipsy and tried to get him to drink a bottle of wine with you. He spent the rest of the night wondering what would have happened if he actually followed you into your father's kitchen, just the two of you. If anyone else happened upon that scene, he figured it would have gotten back to Ted. It was probably for the best that someone else had interrupted that. 

But now his mind was swirling with information. You needed an internship. Bradley was headed off to Europe and could use an extra hand with work all summer. There would be endless meetings and constant schmoozing about the proprietary missile guiding software that Avio Technologies was currently peddling to the US Navy. Bradley was silently dreading doing it alone. 

You might also serve as a useful source of information. If anyone knew what exactly was going on at Avio regarding the misuse of funds that he was certain he'd stumbled upon, Bradley was sure it would be Ted. Your father knew everyone. He had his hands in the research end of things where Bradley worked as well as the sales end of things where his old friend Jake Seresin was currently dabbling. 

This is why Bradley was spending so much of his time here now; he was looking for information. And also for Ted's daughter. If he could appeal to your tastes as far as a job went, maybe he could get you to join him for the summer. 

"Once again, I'm sorry about my daughter," Ted said with a sigh as he walked Bradley across the foyer. "She's stubborn. Headstrong. She wants to have her own agenda. She'll make an exceptional CFO someday."

Bradley couldn't help but chuckle. "Something tells me you're right."

"She just has a lot to learn about staying in your pajamas until noon and working your connections to your benefit, but she'll get there," he replied with a wave of his hand. 

Bradley glanced up the stairs one more time, hoping for a glimpse of white silk and your pretty face, but you had tucked yourself away somewhere out of sight. "Thanks for lunch," Bradley said, holding out his hand for Ted to shake. "I always appreciate when you let me pick your brain, sir."

He chuckled and clapped Bradley on the back again. "How many times do I have to tell you to use my first name?"

"Always one more, I guess," Bradley replied, heading toward the front door with a smile. "See you at the office later this week."

Once he was outside in the sunlight, he slipped on his favorite pair of aviators he'd had since he first started flying F/A-18s and headed for his SUV. He walked past an assortment of sports cars in the circular drive before he got to his more modest black Range Rover Velar. As he drove back into the city to the office, he already started to formulate a plan. He just hoped you'd be around when he showed up again tomorrow. You were already integral to his agenda. 

When his phone rang, he took it in the car as he wove through traffic. He didn't even check the number since only a handful of people had it. "Bradshaw," he said as he pulled up to a red light. "Bradley, it's Judy." He sighed and relaxed back against the seat; his receptionist was exceptional. She could take a pile of bullshit and whittle it down to the bare minimum of necessary information for him. He needed to give her another raise. "I have a few résumés here, and some of them were dropped off by hand. You know... a few Vice Presidents are trying to get their kids jobs in the software development lab. There are also some who are hoping for professional internships. Want to look at them, or should I toss them?"

Bradley ran his hand over his mouth before he said, "I'm on my way back to the office now. I'll take a look at them, but I'm hoping I found an alternative solution to a professional intern that might just be perfect."

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

The following morning, you stood in your closet and held up your white bikini. You looked at it longingly, ran your fingers along the cute triangles that made up the top and wrapped the ties around your fingers before tossing it aside. Instead, you changed out of your pink nightie into an outfit that your father would probably refer to as 'smart casual' as soon as he saw you.

But you were alone for breakfast, because he was already gone for the day. When his chef asked you what you wanted to eat, she looked annoyed when you said cereal and fruit and told her you could get it yourself. The refrigerator was completely stocked, and you loved that your dad had removed cherries from his shopping lists since you found out you were allergic. 

You swiped a peach and some berries onto the counter and started cutting them up, and now the chef looked like she was about to faint. You added them to the top of your cereal bowl and smiled pleasantly at her before you headed into the dining room with your coffee and breakfast. You'd have to contact some potential employers today. You already knew that. But you found yourself lingering over your meal until the cereal was soggy, trying to put off the inevitable a little longer. 

You bargained with yourself. If you spent the morning looking for an internship, then you could lounge by the pool for the afternoon. "Excellent bargaining. You're so smart," you told yourself as you returned your dirty dishes to the kitchen while the housekeeper bounced on her feet nervously. She met you at the sink and snagged everything out of your hands. 

With your computer on your lap, you sat on the couch and made a list of companies in San Diego that might fit the bill. The problem was, Avio was at the top of the list, simply because of the sheer number of different departments housed in the main office downtown. When you clicked on the Research and Development header, you saw a smug looking photo of Bradley Bradshaw and started to laugh. 

"Clearly you know you're handsome," you muttered, reading about him in his short bio. Department Lead for Research and Development at Avio Technologies. Fifteen years as a US Naval aviator. Retired with medals of honor and a rank of Lieutenant Commander. Leading Avio in cutting edge research for naval aircraft software. "Impressive."

You scrolled through a few other departments and made a separate list of people to ask your father to introduce you to. When your stomach started growling, you realized it was already noon. "Time flies when you're not having fun," you murmured as you dashed upstairs, your bikini calling to you like a siren song. 

Only because it would be convenient, you decided to ask the chef to make you lunch so you could eat it outside by the pool. You were just tying your sheer beach cover up over your bathing suit and leaving your room when you heard your dad's voice along with some others. As silently as you could, you tiptoed barefoot down the main stairs, looked both ways and dashed to the left toward the French doors. And then you slammed directly into someone.

"Shit," you whispered, grabbing onto an Armani suit while hands came up to your back to steady you. Then you looked up into those same pretty brown eyes as the big hands tightened around your waist. "It's you again."

Bradley was laughing, and the deep rumble had you pressing yourself against him. "Me again."

You tried not to laugh as you whispered, "If you come with me, you can ditch the rest of the suits." For some reason, you wanted him to join you on the patio, just like he had the other day. He'd ditched everyone else for your company then, and you wanted him to do precisely that again.

You tugged him toward the doors, but he just shook his head. "It's too early for skinny dipping, remember?" A rather inappropriate retort was poised and ready to go, just sitting on the tip of your tongue, but he added, "But I actually was looking for you."

Now your heart fluttered. "You were?"

"Mmhmm," he hummed, releasing his hold on you. Your initial instinct was to whine until he touched you again, and you had to bite your lip to prevent another embarrassing moment. "I couldn't help but overhear yesterday that you're looking for a professional internship."

When he paused, you said, "I am. Go on."

He smirked, and he looked so much like his photo on the Avio Technologies website, you almost started laughing again. "I think I have something that could be exactly what you're looking for. Are you free tomorrow?"

"I could be. As long as it doesn't interfere with my sunbathing," you told him, and you watched his Adam's apple bob as his gaze dipped briefly to your chest. 

Your breath caught in your throat as that pretty pink color flooded his cheeks. He reached into his pocket without taking his eyes off your face and then held a business card between his index and middle fingers right in front of your lips. "Call my office this afternoon. Judy will set something up for tomorrow." He paused again. "If you're interested."

You plucked the card from his grasp, and he smiled as he turned to his left and headed for your father's conference room. As you studied the tidy font, you wondered what he was looking for in an intern. You wondered what he could offer you. After a quick detour to grab your phone, you went outside to make a call.

You were interested. 

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

Interested is an understatement for me. Offer her a job, Bradley! And pack you swim shorts, baby boy. Thank you @mak-32 and @beyondthesefourwalls

PART 2

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[wileys-russo]

Could you do a blurb of leah Williamson x reader like in the tiktok you posted with the Nike tech. Like bf leah but like even more than before.

tech fleece II l.williamson

"baby?" you heard your girlfriend let herself in as you sung out you were in the kitchen hearing her footsteps make their way toward you.

"hello gorgeous." soft hands grabbed your face from behind, tilting your head back so the blonde could lean over you to place a few sweet kisses on your lips, the last one lingering for a few moments before she pulled away.

"missed you today sexy." her hand smacked your bum with a wink and a sloppy kiss to your cheek before she backed away. "charming as ever darling." you sighed with a shake of your head, dropping the wooden spoon and spinning around. "oh leah." you bit down on your lip at the sight of her.

"what?" she frowned as you covered your mouth with your hand to stifle a laugh. "the matching tech fleece...babe." you shook your head disapprovingly with a snicker as her scowl deepened.

"what about it!" she repeated, now crossing her arms over her chest. "lets just say if i do this, theres a beautiful twenty six year old woman who i adore." you took a step back and held up your hand, squinting your eyes and using it to cover her body.

"but if i do this...there's a grubby fifteen year old chav blasting grime on the tube and spitting on the ground for no reason." you moved your hand up to cover her face and show off her body instead. "oo or maybe a roadman?"

"a chav or a roadman she says!" leah scoffed in offence as you dropped your hand and grinned. "better than a bin man?" you teased returning to the stove. "i've told you before you can wear a tech fleece hoodie, jacket or joggers separately, but never all together leah, never all together." you remanded, the blonde mocking you under her breath.

"its comfy! you're so nasty to me, its a god given wonder i put up with you." leah huffed, running a hand through her hair and pulling herself up to sit on the counter.

"oh how do you do it leah? laundry always done, house clean and tidy, home cooked meals on the table, cracking banter and fantastic sex. what a horrid life you have to live, my selfless brave hero." you pouted mockingly toward the older girl.

"yes its a real burden i shoulder for the good of my country." leah sighed, patting her chest where normally some sort of football crest would be sat making you roll your eyes at her antics.

"that smells...healthy." leah frowned suspiciously at the stir fry you were making. "you can unclench this is for me, there's chicken and smileys in the oven for you child." you chuckled nodding your head as her face lit up.

"oi i am not a child! i'm actually older by elven and a half months thank you very much." leah scoffed realizing your subtle dig. "you have the culinary pallet of a toddler and now you're dressing like a troubled teenage boy. child!" you pointed the wooden spoon at her accusingly.

"right i'm not putting up with this abuse any longer. i'm going to wipe all this crap off my face, which you have still not complimented! and then i will return and you better have worked on this pissy attitude young lady." leah warned sternly, pointing right back at you as she hopped down from the counter.

"you look beautiful babe, as always." you smiled, moving to hug her tightly and softly kiss her slightly tinted pink lips from the makeup she had on, having spent nearly the entire day out with media committments.

"just change out of this horrid tracksuit while you're up there yeah?" you now smacked her bum with a wink, backing off as she shook her head and strode out of the kitchen toward your shared bedroom.

"nasty little woman." "i will throw your smileys in the bin williamson!" "obviously i meant gorgeous gorgeous woman whom i love and adore!" "you are on thin ice roadman."

~

"what the hell took you so long?" you chuckled as almost an hour later your girlfriend returned downstairs, having been up in your bedroom the entire time doing god knows what. but she had wiped her makeup off and tied her long blonde hair up into a disheveled bun which sat atop her head.

you'd already long finished cooking, having dished up your dinner and left leahs to stay warm in the oven, sat on the sofa eating.

"i was using the toilet." the blonde shrugged, smacking your forehead with her hand as she passed by you and made a beeline for the kitchen. "for forty minutes?" you laughed at her answer, well knowing she'd have just sat on the bed doom scrolling the tiktok feed she claimed not to care about.

"why are you suddenly so interested in my bowel movements you creep?" leah retorted , hissing as she reached for her plate in the oven, touching it for a second before quickly re-thinking her action. "ugh i didn't mean it like that, i don't need to know a bloody thing about your bowel movements thanks mate." you grimaced in disgust, tuning back into the television.

"don't mate me i'm your missus." your head was shoved to the side by her hand as leah collapsed onto the sofa beside you, and you barely had time to lift your bowl up before her feet swung into your lap. "missus? someone's been hanging round katie too much." you teased, both of you quite close with her irish team mate.

"you didn't even change!" you realised, poking accusingly at her tech fleece joggers making her roll her eyes again. "i'm comfy! stop bullying me." the blonde huffed, darting forward to snatch the remove from where it rested on your thigh.

"leah!" you huffed as she switched stations, groaning as of course she'd put on the football, arsenal due to play in their next premier league match.

"i was watching big brother." you tried to grab it back off of her but she raised her arm, taller than you and easily holding it out of your reach as her eyes never left the screen.

"and? you can watch it on catch up tomorrow babe. my boys are playing." leah shrugged, leaving the remote to rest on the top of the sofa as you sent her a withering glare. "i don't want to watch the football." you groaned in frustration, though really you knew you weren't going to win this. your girlfriend bled north london through and through and there wasn't a chance she would miss this game for anything.

"didn't ask, don't care." leah spoke with a mouthful of food making your lip curl in disgust as you smacked her ankles which rested in your lap. "asshole." you grumbled, shoving her feet off you and standing to wash up your empty bowl.

"get me some more?" leah held out her half finished plate, eyes still glued to the tv. "pardon?" you questioned, raising an eyebrow. "get me some more please baby girl." leah flashed you a smile and wiggled her plate as you grabbed it with a roll of your eyes.

"thank you sweets." your girlfriend patted your bum with her spare hand as you gave her back the plate, shooting her a glare as you sat down. "what? you love it." leah grinned, swinging her feet back into your lap.

"babe didn't you just buy new socks?" you frowned at the holes in the bottom of them. "yeah and i'll wear them once these aren't good enough." leah shrugged. "these aren't good enough they're riddled with holes! get rid of them." you chuckled, whining and shoving her away as she moved her feet to teasingly rest on your face.

"leah!" you groaned as she swung her body around and collapsed herself on top of you. "honestly you are such a teenage boy sometimes. lia was right!" you scoffed, struggling to move her off of you as she went limp.

"hey! you know i hate it when the two of you gang up on me." leah pouted, rolling off of you. "then stop giving us a reason to." you rolled your eyes, smacking away her hands which poked and prodded at your face. "relax the face baby, relax the face." the blonde cooed mockingly, stretching your skin with her thumbs.

"you're one to talk! you've already got wrinkles from all that scowling and frowning." you hit back, causing her to scoff in offence and let go of you. "no you can't leave!" you stood to retreat to the bedroom, leah lunging to grab the back of your hoodie.

"i told you i don't want to watch the football leah." you sighed as she adjusted her position, sitting where you had been and pulling your body in between her legs.

"you always sit with me when the boys play, its bad luck if you aren't here baby." leah frowned somewhat adorably, forever superstitious as you sighed again this time in defeat. "let me at least go and get my book." you bargained, her grip on you loosening allowing you to dart to the bedroom and back.

"comfy love?" leah mumbled against your neck, peppering the skin with gentle kisses as your back settled against her front, nodding and propping your book against your knees, leah kissing your cheek a few times before her attention returned to the game.

"again? you are fucking jokin me!" leah later yelled at the tv with a loud groan as arsenal conceded and you couldn't help but chuckle at her passion. "you do know they can't hear you through the telly right baby?" you teased, head tilting back to look up at her in amusement.

"if i'm loud enough they might come on boys!" leah yelled again, thumping her head back against the sofa in frustration. "oh i can't watch this anymore." leah sighed, slender fingers wrapping around your wrists and tugging your hands to cover her face.

"so we can go to bed then?" "absolutely not, they could be on the come back." "leah, my love its 3-1 and there's ten minutes left, face it baby they've lost."

[forcryingoutlloud]

Patient

warnings: smut (18+ minors dni!), cockwarming, choking, spanking, dom!matty

a/n: hey! so it’s been a while. this is shit i’ll be completely honest but i just wanted to put something out to try and get my enthusiasm for writing back? anyway it’s mediocre at best but i hope you enjoy! also hasn’t been proofread :|

<3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3 <3

she frowned at him and stood up, moving over to his desk and plopping down on the floor next to his chair, placing her head on his thigh.

she blinked up at him and scowled when he didn’t take his eyes off his computer, huffing lightly to try and get his attention.

she had been at this for almost an hour now. she had woken up from a nap wet and needy but he claimed he ‘had to finish this’ and that it was ‘extremely important’.

she almost felt embarrassed, begging for his attention like this but his bare chest and snug-in-all-the-right-places grey joggers called for desperate measures.

she nuzzled her face into his thigh, running her nose lightly against his bulge, before he grabbed a handful of her hair and pulled her away from him, glaring at her.

“what are you doing?” he tightened his grip on her hair when she didn’t answer and she pouted her lips.

“i’m sorry daddy, jus’ need you so bad”, he rolled his eyes and moved his grip to her cheeks, forcing two of his fingers in her mouth.

she moaned, happily sucking his fingers, thinking she had won and that he was going to give in and fuck her within an inch of her life, but she figured she was wrong when he took his fingers out her mouth and slapped her harshly on the cheek.

“stupid little girl. i told you when you came in here that i had shit to do, yet you didn’t listen and disobeyed me,” he shoved two fingers into her mouth and pressed on her teeth, forcing her mouth open.

he smirked at her doe eyes, blinking up at him with devotion, before he spat roughly in her mouth. she let out an utterly desperate moan and squeezed her thighs together, trying to get some relief but whines when he shoved his foot between her legs, ceasing her movements.

“such a needy little thing huh? you need daddy to fix it for you?” he pouted at her mockingly, and she nodded furiously.

“please daddy, ‘ve been so good and patient, need you please-,” she was cut off when he slapped her cheek again, harder this time, and she could feel her cheek get warmer from the impact.

“you’ve been patient hm? i don’t think so princess. my good girl would’ve waited until i was finished with my work, then i would’ve fucked her so good, left her dripping with my cum when she slept.” he sat back in his chair, leaving her to blink up at him with teary eyes.

“but my good girl isn’t here right now is she?” she frowned and shook her head, desperate to please him.

“no, no ‘m here, im a good girl, swear!” she whined. he scoffed and began to unbutton his trousers, pulling them down just enough to reveal his rock hard cock.

he wouldn’t admit it but her desperate begging had affected him too, he was just better at hiding it than she was.

her head perked up when she saw his cock, her eyes lighting up at the thought of finally being filled and fucked. she shuffled on her knees, squeezing her thighs together.

he leaned back against his chair and patted his knee, causing her to scramble up onto his lap. she grabbed the base of his cock and brought it to her entrance, ready to sink down onto him when he grabbed her neck and squeezed, roughly.

"what do you think you're doing?" he spat the words out through gritted teeth and she attempted to swallow. "you seriously think you're going to get what you want, after you blatantly ignored what I said?"

she pouted at him and attempted to roll her hips against his, trying to get him to break and fuck her, but stopped when he brought his hand to her hip, surely leaving a bruise in its wake.

"you'd do well to listen to me sweetheart, you're on thin fuckin' ice already," he spat the words out through gritted teeth and a clenched jaw, brining one of his hands down to lazily thumb at her clit.

her jaw went slack at the touch, arching her back causing her tits to be pushed against his chest through her (his) t-shirt, nipples rubbing against his bare chest, mumbling out a 'sorry daddy'.

he peered up at her over his glasses and sunk her down on his cock with no warning, the utterly desperate moan she let out bringing a sleazy smirk to his face. "oh thank you daddy, thank you."

he pulled her t-shirt over her head and tossed it carelessly on the floor somewhere, pinching her nipples roughly. she groaned and adjusted her knees ready to bounce on his cock before his deep voice stopped her in her tracks. "don't think so brat."

she frowned and looked at him, confusion clouding her face when he smiled menacingly up at her, rubbing small circles into the soft skin of her hip bone. "god you really don't get it do you?"

he grabbed a fistful of her hair, tugging on it so hard that her head fell back and she felt his hot breath on her ear. "stupid girl, still thinks that she's gonna get rewarded for breaking the rules."

he tutted at her and leaned back in his chair, rubbing his thumb over her clit. she jolted at the pressure and he chuckled darkly in her face.

"now you're gonna sit there looking all dumb and drooling on my cock until I finish this. if you so much as move an inch, ill fuck this tight little cunt until you're dripping with me and you won't get to cum for a week. gonna use you as my little fucktoy. understand?"

she whimpered and felt her eyes fill with tears at his demeaning tone, her lip wobbling as she nodded slowly. he raised an eyebrow and slapped her arse hard, surely leaving a handprint in his wake.

"I understand daddy."

[jjkamochoso]

Cold Hands, Warm Heart

Fluff

Rengoku Kyojuro x gn!reader

Reader has cold hands… do you think the Flame Hashira would stand for such an injustice?!

Warnings: none

You sighed for what felt like the millionth time that day, focusing your energy on hanging up the laundry in front of you. Your job as an assistant to Shinobu at the Butterfly Mansion was keeping you on your feet, busy as ever, but you still couldn't warm up. By all accounts, your hands shouldn't be as ice cold as they were since it was a mild spring day, but you had always had this problem so it just became a constant in your life. You tugged on your uniform sleeve in hopes of it reaching over your hands a bit more, but you found no relief in the thin fabric. Irritated, you finished your work and decided to stay outside for a short break, hoping that basking in the sun would help thaw your freezing phalanges. Looking around to see you were completely alone, you raised your palms toward the sky in an attempt to speed up the warming process. If anyone were to see you right now, they would most certainly brand you a fool. You relished the tepid air flowing around you, closing your eyes to allow for maximum relaxation-

"Y/N! HOW ARE YOU TODAY?"

Your eyes shot open as you yelped in surprise. The Flame Hashira had snuck up on you and practically given you a heart attack. If he took notice of your flustered state, he was too kind to mention it, instead beaming at you with a kind smile.

"Rengoku! You took me by surprise, I didn't hear you behind me. I'm doing alright, thank you. How about yourself?" You wanted him to take over the conversation for a moment so you could calm your breathing, your heart still racing from his unexpected arrival.

"I am doing well! I just came back from a mission and came here in search of something to ease my sore muscles." His usually unwavering gaze faltered a bit, looking to the grass you stood on for the shortest moment before landing on you once more. "I also wanted to see you."

It was a shock that you were cold before because now it felt like your whole body was on fire after hearing Rengoku's words. Was he just being friendly? Or did he hold some sort of romantic feelings toward you? You would be content either way but truly wished it was the latter. You had a crush on the man for many months now but were too shy to make your affections known, too afraid of losing your close bond of friendship.

"That's very kind of you. Is there something in particular you wanted to see me for?"

Rengoku took a step toward you, shortening the gap between you but not enough to invade your personal space. "No. I just enjoy your company very much. I would like to spend some time with you before I have to leave for another mission. That is, if you'll allow me to take up your time, of course."

You couldn't believe your ears. This handsome man desired to get to know you better? You were beyond flattered and definitely weren't going to turn him down.

"You are the most pleasant company I could ask for, Rengoku. Please, take a seat on this bench with me and rest for a bit." He followed your lead and sat next to you, your legs touching ever so slightly.

He was the first to break the comfortable silence that had fallen between you. "May I ask what you were doing when I first joined you? It looked like you were worshipping the sun. If so, I would like to learn about this custom and partake in it myself!"

You couldn't hold in the laugh that escaped your lips. "Oh, no, no. It wasn't anything like that. My hands were extremely cold so I thought that the closer to the sun they were, the warmer they would get."

He nodded in understanding like it was the most normal thing on earth for a person to reach for the sky like a desperate flower. You were glad Rengoku was the one to find you in such a silly position because he was never one to judge people for things like that. He approached most situations with an open mind and willingness to learn, traits which you found admirable.

"Have they found their warmth?"

You shook your head and he gestured his own hands toward yours. "May I?"

You tentatively brought your hands in front of you and Rengoku, with the lightest amount of force possible, scooped them into his grip. You were immediately met with a cozy feeling emanating from his skin, heat finally entering your body. Rengoku's touch was astonishingly gentle for a man of his stature and status as one of the best demon slayers. Though you knew of his benevolent disposition, it wasn't your first thought that the hands of someone who's seen such horrendous things and taken so many lives (all justified, of course) could be this soothing, or... loving, almost. As he held your hands, the look on his face could be described as nothing less than full of serenity, like you two were lovers reuniting and expressing your fondness for each other. Slowly but surely the icy chill dissipated from your fingers but the feelings that were left behind in its wake were harder to figure out. Actually, maybe it wasn't so difficult after all. You had never seen Rengoku treat anyone like this before. Sure, he was overly friendly to his allies, but he never initiated physical touch like this. Beside the fact, he could clearly tell your hands had warmed up and yet was still holding on like you were a floating piece of driftwood and he was drowning in a stormy sea. You were reluctant to let go, too. You had never felt so safe, so protected, in your entire life and it didn't have to do with the fact that he was a Hashira.

"Y/N, would it be alright if I confess something to you?" Rengoku asked, his red and yellow eyes glinting in the sunlight and making your heart skip a beat.

"You can tell me anything," you replied earnestly.

He took in a steadying breath before starting. "Over the years we have known each other, you have been a wonderful friend. You're reliable, smart, and kind hearted. However, lately I find myself thinking of you in different terms. I take notice of how your eyes sparkle like stars when any source of light touches them. I envy the rain as it falls upon your soft skin. Even now, as we are surrounded by nature's most beautiful work, this scene pales in comparison to you. You have bewitched me, ensnared my soul. Would you grant me the great honor of being your partner?"

"Oh Kyojuro," you said, softly smiling, "How I've waited for the day to hear those words come tumbling from your lips. You are the sun to my moon and the only man to have ever captured my heart. It will be a privilege to be loved by you."

You felt his hands squeeze around yours a little tighter in reassurance as you exchanged lovesick grins. You hated your cold hands for many years but now, with the Flame Hashira by your side as a personal heater, you would never have to worry about it again.

[unholyhelbig]

Would love some Kate Bishop angst

Title: Past Tense

Ship: Female!Reader x Kate Bishop

Wordcount: 4027

Summary: Kate Bishop returns to her hometown unexpectedly following some bad news. She's shocked when she runs into you and struggles to grapple with her past choices.

Warnings: Funerals, hurt/comfort, drinking, work injury/ burns, spelling mistakes and grammar issues (I'm sure)

[A/n: Hello! Just a little disclaimer, this is probably going to be the last thing I can publish for the rest of the month. I've got a massive work project, I move this coming weekend, and it's my birthday at the end of the month so my time is quite limited. But things will pick up again next month]

Main Masterlist | Read my stuff on AO3 | Leave Requests

Day had barely broken over the horizon, but the world around you was impossible to ignore. There had been snow the night before, something that everyone believed was too cold to be possible. A thin layer of ice had encrusted each car before the soft, powdery type had built up on windshields and culminated under tires.

Large, wet flakes swirled around you and despite the gloves that clung to your skin, they didn’t do much for the numbness in your fingers as you fumbled with the keys to the coffee shop. Moisture had wicked through the fabric, and you hastily took them off before flicking on the house lights.

It was just past 5am and the usual crowd of early risers were soon to arrive. You made quick work of starting all the machines, the cooling cases and the manual grinder. Your baker had been in earlier, filling the displays with various muffins, baked goods, and sweets. A smooth cinnamon scent filled the air and warmed you all over.

“Son of a bitch!” the muffled exclamation formed a smile against your lips.

MJ was bundled up in a sweatshirt, a flannel, and a heavy winter coat over that. Her boots were caked in dry snow. There was a deep red blush against her nose and her cheeks that accompanied her scowl.

“Language, there are children present.”

“We’re the same age!” Peter protested as he pulled himself through the back door. He was dressed in less layers but sported the same winter complexion. He shook the large flakes of snow from his sweater, mumbling “Son of a bitch.”

It was cold enough to warrant you closing the shop. Most of the schools and the businesses in town had called for a snow day, something that didn’t happen often in Connecticut. Frigid temperatures were expected. Below freezing was a way of life and the world didn’t stop craving warm coffee to thaw them out.

This fact was proven when you flipped the open sign and the typical crowd of tired eyes started to line up at the counter. Peter typically had too much energy, so MJ took up the register while her counterpart flitted around and filled the orders. Most were to-go.

You’d known these people for years. They’d come in with a habit that was unmatched by the weather and the any other obstacles thrown at them. Before you opened up ‘The Grindhouse’ you’d gone to high school with them.

Through all the proms, and the homecomings, and the house parties that left you vomiting in the yard amongst their parents’ flowerbeds. Since then, you’d grown up and couldn’t stomach more than a few shots or two glasses of wine, tops.

They’d grown up too, those who had stuck around town. They had families and businesses much like yours. You had homeroom with the accountant that had helped you hedge your money in the correct places, and you made the same bacon, egg, and cheese English muffin for the star football player that blew out his knee senior year.

“Welcome to Grindhouse,” you said distractedly at the sound of the bell above the door, working on clearing the fallen grounds from under the espresso machine. The rag was damp and the floor was already coated in little brown specs that needed to be swept up during a lull.

“What can I get started for you?” MJ asked in her usual cadence.

“Just a plain black coffee, please.”

Your body froze at the sound of the voice, hair falling into the gaze that you refused to lift. There was a strange mix of emotions in the pit of your stomach. That voice, with it’s familiar rasp was one you hadn’t heard for years. Nearly a decade. But it couldn’t be her, could it?

She’d left for New York right after high school. The last you heard, she’d become a doctor. An unrivaled cardiothoracic surgeon that flitted around the world wherever she was needed. There was no reason for her to be back in this small, freezing, end-of-the-earth town.

“That’ll be 2.25, we have cream and sugar on the far wall, but if you need anything don’t hesitate to ask.”

“Thank you.”

It was her. It was most definitely her. There was a crispness to her voice that you’d recognize anywhere. The last you remembered; it was whispered with a quickness that rivaled her hands. Her hands were everywhere. They were warm and calloused and gentle.

There was a sudden bubbling heat against the side of your hand. You hissed through your teeth and pulled back from the espresso machine. There was a large bubbling welt on your skin and a string of curses ready at your lips.

“Jesus, y/n are you alright?” Peter was at your side in a moment with a wet, clean cloth that he had run under cold water. “Do you need the burn kit?”

“No, no. I’ll be alright. Thanks Pete”

He was so attentive and clocked you with a worried stare but you reassured him with the squeeze of his shoulder with your good hand. If you were going to fly under the radar before, it would be impossible now.

You glanced over the counter, pressing the cloth even closer. Your suspicions had been confirmed by the tepid gray stare that met yours. Shock simmered behind Kate Bishops gaze, a steaming cup of coffee in her hand.

Suddenly, you felt dizzy. She looked a bit older in the face, more experienced. There was life there, a form of living that had lowered her shoulders and sealed her lips. The Kate you knew was a bumbling mess- but med school had effectively changed that.

“y/n,” She regarded you.

“Hi, Katie.”

That lopsided, sloppy grin was still the same. It reached her eyes and brightened them. You cradled your hand and reveled in the silence. Peter and MJ had frozen in place, flicking their eyes from you and then back to her.

“Want me to take a look at that hand?”

“What are you doing back in town?”

The two of you spoke at the same time and dissolved into nervous laughter. You shook your head. “I thought you were a surgeon?”

“I know how to treat a burn, y/n, don’t insult me.”

You often prided yourself on your strong will. If you had a weak one, it would have been impossible to build this coffee shop up from the rubble that it once was. Kate Bishop, Doctor Kate Bishop, had a way of melting your resolve.

Peter shoved the small plastic first aide kit into your hands and shoved you forward. There was no choice to hide your stumble other than a confident stride towards her. She led you to one of the tables that spanned the windows at the storefront. They were lined with frost, a biting cold fighting to get its way in.

Kate had about a half-inch on you and radiated a type of warmth that was unmatched. When she grabbed your sleeve and dragged you to a sitting position right across from her, you were practically putty in her hands.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you.” She spoke without looking at you, unlatching the kit and pulling on the blue latex gloves with practiced ease. She couldn’t see the look of shock on your face. “This place is beautiful. I remember when it was that pizza place.”

“Ah, pizzapocalypse. Who would have thought that a combination shooting range and Italian restaurant would fail?”

Kate chuckled and tenderly pulled your hand closer. Her touch was barely a whisper against your skin, strands of black hair falling into her eyes. She examined the angry red mark. It had already started to blister. The espresso machine was kept at unbelievable levels of heat.

She grabbed one of the wrapped applicators, using her teeth to tear away at the wax paper. Kate squeezed a small dollop of burn cream onto the end. You hated the cloudy clearness of the substance.

“I’ve been keeping tabs on you too, you know?”

“Have you? This might sting a little bit. Do you want a countdown?”

“No, just do it I’m a brave- Fuck!” She’d already started, and you gave her a vicious glare. She shrugged with that infuriatingly perfect grin of hers. “I thought you were in New Zealand for some medical internship.”

“New Hampshire, actually. Not as exciting, I know. It was going well, but Eleanor died.”

There was a tightness to her voice. Typically, you looked away from anything involving wound care. If you were to get a shot, you’d stare at a small spot on the wall that interested you. Drawing blood was more of the same, it was just harder to ignore the needle in your arm.

Kate was working hard at the bandage in her hand and finally pulled it apart. Despite the frustration etched into her features, she applied it with a certain level of care. You didn’t’ say anything. Your hand was throbbing uncomfortably.

“She was old, we knew it was coming and pancreatic cancer, well, it’s a bitch by the end and Susan asked me to fly in for the funeral. How could I say no to that? Flying in for my mothers funeral when I was too busy working to witness her descent?”

“Katie,” You breathed out.

“That should be healed up in a few days. Make sure you change out the bandage.”

You couldn’t’ get a word in edgewise before she started to shove the contents of the case back into their proper places. The chair made a horrible scraping sound that you felt in your teeth. Kate grasped her coffee, colder than it was a few moments ago.

“Thank you for… this. I’m sure it’s delicious.” She had her hand on the door. Her quickness was unmatched. Both in and out of the OR, from what you had read. But she paused, looking at you for a moment. “I’m proud of you, y/n. This place is great. Really.”

Kate had vanished into the whiteness of the blistering day. You watched her navigate the snow with ease. Eleanor had died. How could you live in such a small town and not have heard about the woman’s passing?

The Bishop family was always a private bunch, and with Kate moving right after high school graduation, you hadn’t any reason to go past those wrought iron gates. Kate’s older sister would stop by for a hot drink once every other month or so, but you saw her coming from a mile away and selfishly hid in the back.

Eleanor had died.

There was a softness to her that you remembered fondly, a memory of Kate and you as children in the heat of summer. You’d been stung by a wasp and cried and cried until Eleanor rushed into the yard and scooped you into her arms.

Much like Kate had just done with her soft ministrations, she fixed you right up by applying a mix of warm water and baking soda. An old family remedy, she said. The venom had stopped screaming and the tears eventually stopped for both you and Kate.

Eleanor was a kind, if not private, woman. One that you thought of daily when you clocked the photo of High School Graduation on the dusty bookshelves in your living room. Your own mother hadn’t attended, but Eleanor was right there. She was right there.

“Who’s the girl?” MJ drawled out, leaning heavily on her hands, a goofy look on her face. Peter was next to her, doing the same, both eyebrows raised.

“Kate… She” You picked up the plastic first aide kit. The two of you had a habit of not sitting still and it was better to move to replace the supplies then let them sit out here. Besides, a customer could walk in at any moment. “We were engaged.”

Peter shot up “What?”

“It was a long time ago, it’s not important.”

“You were engaged, I think that’s important. How old are you?”

“First, rude, second; old enough. And really, guys it’s not a big deal. Both of us moved on. Life happened.”

They exchanged a look that, in the past, had never meant anything good. MJ had her arms crossed over her chest and Peter leaned heavily on a broom he had grabbed, hugging it lose to his chest. You rolled your eyes, attempting to ignore them both was impossible in a place this retrospectively small.

“I don’t know, boss. The way she was looking at you… maybe neither of you really moved on.”

“I write your paychecks; you understand that right?” You turned to face them. “Kate and I are done. We have been for a long time. She made that very clear when she gave the ring back and I refuse to push the matter.”

It was collecting dust on your bookshelf next to the photo of your graduation. It was a small emerald, green box that you hadn’t opened since you resituated the diamond ring. It had been stupid to propose, a last-ditch effort to get Kate to stay. She’d said yes. And then she said no.

The baker’s old Subaru wouldn’t start because of the bitter cold. It sounded like an old wife’s tale that made you chuckle to yourself while reading the text that popped across your screen.

Before you had hired him for the long nights, you’d done the baking yourself and it wasn’t a horrible chore. You’d just have to down some caffeine and slam it out; trays filled with mini cakes, with quiches, donuts and cheese tarts. It was like a methodical science project with the bonus of eating the food that didn’t look edible.

It was midnight by the time you’d pulled the first couple trays from the large industrial oven and exhaustion was starting to bay its head. You weighed the option of going home and just spreading out the pastries in the case.

All thoughts of sleep left your mind when a rapid banging filled the store. The front glass doors were being tugged upon. And while you were more than willing to die in this coffee shop, being robbed was not the way you wanted to go. There was less than three hundred dollars in the register.

You grasped at the broom, your hands covered in flower and caked on the bandage that was applied earlier. Another round of bangs as you tried to stay low and reach for the cordless phone. There was a silhouette outlined by the gray white of the snow.

Doctor Kate Bishop.

She’d given up on her breaking and entering and pressed her forehead against the glass, her breath fogging it up. It was hard to tell, but you were sure her eyes were clenched shut. There was a brown paper bag in one hand that looked suspiciously like a large bottle of alcohol.

Your grip was tight on the broom, even as you felt confident, and a little sad, about opening the door. Kate fell forward and a blast of cold enveloped you. She made a small noise at the back of her throat, regaining her posture.

“Were you going to sweep me to death?” Kate asked, “I brought whiskey.”

“Here I thought you weren’t going to come back here with the way you ran out earlier, and now you arrive with gifts?”

It was a low blow, but she had shrugged her shoulders with her goofy grin and snow in her messy hair. “Come drink with me, just for a little bit in our old spot. Don’t make me play the dead mom card.”

Saying no to Kate had always been hard for you. It had been hard when you were children and she dared you to jump from high places, always stopping you by the collar of your shirt before either of you got hurt. And it was especially hard to say no to Kate in your teens when she would kiss hot trails against your throat, marking them with bruises. Not that you were rushing to deny her.

“Really?” You asked, “Aren’t we a little old to be caught sneaking booze in the gym?”

Both of you knew for a fact that the side doors leading into the school would always be open. There were no alarms, or flood lights, because it was a small town and nothing bad ever happens in a small town.

She jutted out her bottom lip into a pout “Y/n, my mom died.”

“Okay, alright. Let me lock up.”

Kate stayed quiet on the three-block walk to the school. It was shrouded in darkness, an inky black despite the swirling gray of the night sky. Your high school had been the largest in the county; two floors filled with classrooms. You’d stuck to the same ones and Kate was the life of the party wherever she went, the bright spot in an otherwise dingy room.

The bottle of alcohol dangled by her side as your footfalls crunched over ice and an ugly brown slush of snow. It felt normal, almost, walking with her. Being with her. Staying in town was a brave choice after being dumped and equivocally left at the alter. You had powered through the looks and the whispered accusations. But some part of you was relieved she’d chosen this interaction to take place in the middle of the night.

When you’d gotten to the double doors of the large gymnasium, Kate’s boot slipped on a particularly nasty spot of ice. Instinctively you grasped her arm and righted her. She thanked you silently before pushing into the warmth of the space. The motion censor lights flicked on and you squinted against them.

“They built a new one, you know? A gym. I think they still use this for craft fairs. Fundraisers. But all the big stuff is off site in this state-of-the-art center.”

Kate blew out a breath, shaking her head. “Remember when Tommy Shepard broke your nose with a basketball?”

“Yeah, I do. I also remember sneezing right after and spraying him in blood. Everyone else was grossed out except for you.”

Kate dropped onto the large eagle in the center of the floor. Her legs were stretched out in front of her, and the bottle was idling between them. You let out a small groan as you joined her. Neither of you had ever been bold enough to inebriate yourselves in the crest. Instead, you’d hide behind the fold-out bleachers that were pushed against the walls, but this would do.

“That stupid EMT wouldn’t let me get on the ambulance with you.” The seal on the bottle cracked viciously, much like your nose, as she unscrewed the cap.

“And I told you I didn’t need to go the hospital. I think I was a liability, though.”

Kate laughed, taking a deep gulp from the bottle. It hit the back of her throat and she hissed in response before thrusting the whiskey your way. You took a smaller sip, let it coat your tongue and burn your stomach.

The mood had stilled, and she took another swallow before setting the bottle between the both of you like a vice or a buffer. You couldn’t decide what.

“Eleanor had very specific instructions in her will. She… shit, she planned her whole funeral out before she died in her morbid meticulousness. She picked white lilies, and a beautiful black casket. She already had a plot of land picked out in her family plot. Music picked out. A fucking guest list.”

You fought the urge to reach out and comfort her. So, you grabbed the bottle instead and gulped down a bigger heaping than before. The amber liquid was dipping down behind the black wrapper.

“The only thing she didn’t do was write her eulogy. No, she left that up to me as one last fuck you because that’s how she operates. She didn’t’ ask Susan to write it, or my dad. She asked me because I’m the one that left home. I’m the one that left her.”

The worst thing you could do was agree with Kate Bishops dead mother. And you didn’t, really. You’d always been happy for Kate. This town was too small for her and the lives that she saved were plentiful. But some selfish part of you understood where Eleanor was coming from.

You were possibly the worst person she could go to with this issue and by the frown on her face, she knew it too. For the longest time, you were there for each other. And if Kate had called out of the blue and asked you to go to New Zealand or New Hampshire, or whatever; you would go.

She’d do the same, you were sure. One call, one letter and she’d be here. But neither of you were brave enough to reach out and heal the wound that festered between you. You pulled your knees up to your chest, rested your chin against them with a quiet breath.

“Maybe you don’t need to write anything. Maybe you can just… say how you feel.”

“Yes, because that has worked out so well for me in the past.”

“Fair point, but she was your mother, not a fling. Even if you don’t have a script planned out, it’s worth just feeling the moment. No matter how shitty that moment is.”

Kate inhaled and held that breath in her chest for a few seconds before pushing it out. Her eyes searched you in a probing way that made your skin prickle. Blush started to claw its way up your throat. You’d blame that on the alcohol, you always were a light weight and it showed in your complexion.

“Is that what you think you were?” her voice was a low and raspy whisper “a fling?”

“That’s not what I meant.”

“You never say anything you don’t mean. All you’ve ever done is calculated and well thought out. You’ve always had a plan.” She looked down at the frayed edges of her jeans, playing with the strings to avoid looking at you. “You were my everything.”  

Your voice was a quiet murmur. “Katie,”

She reached out, her warm hand wrapped around your wrist in a tender display of affection. Her eyes met yours and it was the longest the two of you had stared at one another without breaking eye contact. Your stomach was a pit of nerves and heat.

“That scared me when we were young. It fucking scared me out of my mind how content I was with you. I was ready to risk everything, to settle down in a small house and wake up every single morning next to you.” She drew in a sharp and shuddering breath “But we were young, and I hadn’t lived life and that scared me even more.”

“I know, Kate, I know. I shouldn’t have proposed, and I certainly shouldn’t have put either of us in that position. You were right to turn me down. You were right to move on and fight for the future that you deserve.”

Kate sniffed, using her free hand to wipe away the few crystalline tears that dripped across her cheeks. You found yourself pulling her close, letting her sob into the crook of your neck as you held her, your arm wrapped around her center to stabilize her.

Things were boiling over and the tension that had been weighing on her shoulders since she’d first shown up in town started to slowly drain. She missed her mother, she missed you, and that wasn’t something you were willing to process on the crest of the school’s gymnasium.

Kate’s fingers were curled into the fabric of your shirt, and eventually, she settled. Her nose was cold against your pulse point and the bottle of whiskey had been long forgotten. As self-centered as it was, you wished you could hold her forever. Feel her touch on yours for something other than a reminisced sadness.

“If you asked again,” Kate mumbled into the collar of your shirt “If you asked me again, I would say yes.”

“I know, Katie. I know.”

[separatist-apologist]

Do you have any recs for Feysand-like characters romance but healthier? I love them but I love the wholesome parts of them so so much more and it would be nice to enjoy them in a sweeter setting. I will take books/shows, even movie works but not my favourite option.

It's fine if you don't have any. Thanks anyways.

I consulted my feysand experts (@thesistersarcheron, @rosanna-writer, @octobers-veryown, @kataravimes-of-the-shire, @velidewrites, and @reverie-tales - this is what everyone came up with) (under cut due to length):

One Dark Window by Rachel Gillig (duology, complete):

Elspeth needs a monster. The monster might be her.

Elspeth Spindle needs more than luck to stay safe in the eerie, mist-locked kingdom of Blunder—she needs a monster. She calls him the Nightmare, an ancient, mercurial spirit trapped in her head. He protects her. He keeps her secrets.

But nothing comes for free, especially magic.

When Elspeth meets a mysterious highwayman on the forest road, her life takes a drastic turn. Thrust into a world of shadow and deception, she joins a dangerous quest to cure Blunder from the dark magic infecting it. And the highwayman? He just so happens to be the King’s nephew, Captain of the most dangerous men in Blunder…and guilty of high treason.

Together they must gather twelve Providence Cards—the keys to the cure. But as the stakes heighten and their undeniable attraction intensifies, Elspeth is forced to face her darkest secret yet: the Nightmare is slowly taking over her mind. And she might not be able to stop him.

The Invisible Life of Addie LaRue by Victoria E. Schwab:

France, 1714: in a moment of desperation, a young woman makes a Faustian bargain to live forever and is cursed to be forgotten by everyone she meets.

Thus begins the extraordinary life of Addie LaRue, and a dazzling adventure that will play out across centuries and continents, across history and art, as a young woman learns how far she will go to leave her mark on the world.

But everything changes when, after nearly 300 years, Addie stumbles across a young man in a hidden bookstore and he remembers her name.

Unsteady by Peyton Corinne:

Rhys Koteskiy is back — at least, he's supposed to be.

During last year’s Frozen Four, the Waterfell University hockey captain, and NHL legacy, took a brutal hit that left him with a concussion and a new discomfort on the ice. Plagued by nightmares and panic attacks every time he attempt to skate, Rhys wonders if he’ll ever play again — if he’ll ever want to.

Sadie Brown is staying focused this semester — no matter what.

Currently drowning in debt, custody hearings for her younger brothers and skating practices, she's just trying to make it to the next day. A spitfire figure skater known for her bad attitude and frequent disappearing acts, she has a reputation on campus. And it’s not a pretty one.

When she accidentally witnesses one of the golden boy hockey captain’s panic attacks and attempts to help him, a strange sort of understanding strikes up between them.

No questions asked. Just comfort.

But Rhys finds himself drawn to Sadie. Where he feels empty, a shell of the man and player he was before, Sadie is so full of everything it bursts from her; every emotion she feels seems like it’s blasted at max. Rhys is desperate to feel anything, Sadie wants to stop feeling so much.

But healing doesn’t mix with secrets, and they’re both skating a thin line, unsteady .

Red String Theory by Lauren Kung Jessen:

 When it comes to love and art, Rooney Gao believes in signs. Most of all, she believes in the Chinese legend that everyone is tied to their one true love by the red string of fate. And that belief has inspired her career as an artist, as well as the large art installations she makes with ( obviously ) red string. That is until artist’s block strikes and Rooney begins to question everything. But then fate leads her to the perfect guy . . . Jack Liu is perfect. He’s absurdly smart, successful, handsome, and after one enchanting New York night—under icy February skies and fueled by fried dumplings—all signs point to destiny. Only Jack doesn’t believe. And after their magical date, it looks like they might be lost to each other forever . . . until they’re given one more chance to reconnect. But can Rooney convince a reluctant skeptic to take a leap of fate?

Neon Gods by Katee Robert:

He was supposed to be a myth. But from the moment I crossed the River Styx and fell under his dark spell... he was, quite simply, mine.

Society darling Persephone Dimitriou plans to flee the ultra-modern city of Olympus and start over far from the backstabbing politics of the Thirteen Houses. But all that’s ripped away when her mother ambushes her with an engagement to Zeus, the dangerous power behind their glittering city’s dark facade.

With no options left, Persephone flees to the forbidden undercity and makes a devil’s bargain with a man she once believed a myth... a man who awakens her to a world she never knew existed.

Hades has spent his life in the shadows, and he has no intention of stepping into the light. But when he finds that Persephone can offer a little slice of the revenge he’s spent years craving, it’s all the excuse he needs to help her—for a price. Yet every breathless night spent tangled together has given Hades a taste for Persephone, and he’ll go to war with Olympus itself to keep her close…

A modern retelling of Hades and Persephone that’s as sinful as it is sweet.

The Magician's Guild (Black Magician's Trilogy) by Trudi Canavan:

"We should expect this young woman to be more powerful than our average novice, possibly even more powerful than the average magician."

This year, like every other, the magicians of Imardin gather to purge the city of undesirables. Cloaked in the protection of their sorcery, they move with no fear of the vagrants and miscreants who despise them and their work-—until one enraged girl, barely more than a child, hurls a stone at the hated invaders...and effortlessly penetrates their magical shield.

What the Magicians' Guild has long dreaded has finally come to pass. There is someone outside their ranks who possesses a raw power beyond imagining, an untrained mage who must be found and schooled before she destroys herself and her city with a force she cannot yet control.

Hoarded by the Dragon by Lillian Lark:

A thief doing a final job and the dragon caught in a precarious situation that changes both of their lives.

He’s powerful and wealthy and he hates me.

But I have something he wants.

It wasn’t a part of the plan.

I’m the thief stupid enough to break into a dragon’s hoard… and walk away pregnant with his baby.

An Enchantment of Ravens by Margaret Rogerson:

With a flick of her paintbrush, Isobel creates stunning portraits for a dangerous set of clients: the fair folk. These immortal creatures cannot bake bread or put a pen to paper without crumbling to dust. They crave human Craft with a terrible thirst, and they trade valuable enchantments for Isobel’s paintings. But when she receives her first royal patron—Rook, the autumn prince—Isobel makes a deadly mistake. She paints mortal sorrow in his eyes, a weakness that could cost him his throne, and even his life.

Furious, Rook spirits Isobel away to his kingdom to stand trial for her crime. But something is seriously amiss in his world, and they are attacked from every side. With Isobel and Rook depending upon each other for survival, their alliance blossoms into trust, perhaps even love . . . a forbidden emotion that would violate the fair folks’ ruthless laws, rendering both their lives forfeit. What force could Isobel's paintings conjure that is powerful enough to defy the ancient malice of the fairy courts?

Isobel and Rook journey along a knife-edge in a lush world where beauty masks corruption and the cost of survival might be more frightening than death itself.

Desire In His Blood by Zoey Draven:

Gemma Hara is drowning under the weight of her father’s debts. Working herself to the bone, she knows that if she doesn’t pay them off in time, the sadistic creditors will take everything: their home, their respected name, and, worst of all, her two beautiful sisters.

To save her family, Gemma agrees to do something reckless: marry a wealthy and mysterious stranger, who offers her a wicked bargain she can’t afford to refuse.

However, his bargain comes with one terrifying catch. Because her husband-to-be is a Kylorr.

One of the most fearsome alien races in the Four Quadrants, the Kylorr are beastly monsters, all muscle and menace, with powerful wings, depraved cravings, and berserker-like rages. The worst part?

They survive on blood.

Cold and cruel, Azur of House Kaalium, the High Lord of Laras, demands Gemma as his blood bride. To feed from her. To use her body in whatever way he wishes. For paying off her family’s debts, he expects her complete submission.

What neither of them predicts is how his bite doesn’t bring pain—it fills Gemma with more exquisite pleasure than she’s ever known. And as she finds her footing on a strange new planet, the one thing Gemma thought she’d never surrender might be at risk after all.

Her heart.

Too bad her new husband can’t seem to decide if he wants to break it…or keep it forever.

Master of Crows by Grace Draven:

This is the question that sets bondwoman, Martise of Asher, on a dangerous path. In exchange for her freedom, she bargains with her masters, the mage-priests of Conclave, to spy on the renegade sorcerer, Silhara of Neith. The priests want Martise to expose the sorcerer's treachery and turn him over to Conclave justice. A risky endeavor, but one she accepts without hesitation--until she falls in love with her intended target.

Silhara of Neith, Master of Crows, is a desperate man. The god called Corruption invades his mind, seducing him with promises of limitless power if he will help it gain dominion over the world. Silhara struggles against Corruption's influence and searches for ways to destroy the god. When Conclave sends Martise as an apprentice to help him, he knows she's a spy. Now he fights a war on two fronts -against the god who would possess him and the apprentice who would betray him.

Mage and spy search together for a ritual that will annihilate Corruption, but in doing so, they discover secrets about each other that may damn them both. Silhara must decide if his fate, and the fate of nations, is worth the soul of the woman he has come to love, and Martise must choose continued enslavement or freedom at the cost of a man's life. And love.

[heartfullofleeches]

Alright awesome, uh aHEM-

Y/N trying to comfort Theodore: “Listen man I’m really sorry about the divorce, you two really loved each other so it must’ve been really rough.. If you need any help or just want someone next to you then know I’ll be right here for you okay? And hey on the bright side, there are plenty of fish in the sea! I’m sure you’ll find your one and only eventually”

Meanwhile Theodore is internally flipping out cause: Oh my god the divorce was actually a blessing in disguise she’s finally gone and fuck I think I really love Y/N and they’re sitting here comforting me and touching me I want them so bad what do I do fuckfuckfuckfuckfuck-

Theodore never liked coffee. The bitterness clung to the roof of his mouth and caffeine gave him jitters til next week if he drank too much. With the kids and all his school work pilling up, he needed something to keep him awake and everything else he tried had no effect. He experimented with different creamers and sugars, and created the perfect mix to help it all go down. He figured it wouldn't be too much of a crime to ask his then girlfriend to pick up his drink of choice whenever she bought drinks for herself - only to be handed a black coffee everytime.

"Ta-da! One iced latte. They didn't have that toffee creamer you like so I raided your fridge. Once you're feeling better, we really need to get you out of this house, mister."

His blanket falls from his shoulders as he reaches out. "... thanks."

His voice was hoarse and scratchy; startling even him as it crawled from his throat. It sounded foreign to him, but that's exactly what that woman did. Somedays he couldn't look in the mirror without seeing a glimpse of the shy, awkward teen he used to be - and the stranger that person had because. He was a wreck. He hadn't slept. He only showered when he had to pick up the kids from their grandparents. He hadn't eaten anything in days... until you brought him food. Back in your highschool days you'd pay him with his favorite foods in favor of completing some project you forgotten about. While his tastes had changed a lot over the years, he gorged himself on everything you brought until he felt ill.

Theodore tears the lid of the cup and swallows the concoction, not stopping for a breath. Your hand flies to his back as he chokes. "Take it easy, Theo. Give me that."

You pry the cup from his hands as you sit beside him, weighting his palms against his lap until his shakes quiet. "It's going to be okay. You'll find someone when you're ready to look again and I'll always be here to support you."

You always have been. Years went when he forgot about his own birthday and it seemed like the entire world had to - and there you were, cake and a new book in hand. You were his rock through thick and thin; a vow he made with his ex. The guilty euphoria when people mistook you as his spouse instead of her. Beside what he did with his kids, Theodore had forgotten what it was like to enjoy another's company - reminded each time you came around. He couldn't make this about himself. He couldn't.

"The kids.... Erin's still so young. How am I going to tell them."

"Sometimes, a separated home is better than a dysfunction one. It won't be easy and they'll always come before anything, but right now you need to focus on yourself and what you want in life."

Your hands tighten around his. What does he want? He wants to go back to the night he took that cigarette from her. He wants to scream and hit his younger self for following her at that party. He wants to go back and stop the arrangement that kept his mind off the study partner that always came up with an excuse when it was time to hit the books, but there when he needed them most. He wants to tell them how they made him feel. He still does. He wants to love you - and now he finally.... finally can.

"Hold me.... Please, I just want...you to hold me."

His glasses fog up. You wipe the tears from behind his lenses as your arms envelope him. Eyes misty, all he feels is the pull of your warm embrace and he breaks. Theodore wraps the blanket around you and centers his hearing on the steady beat in your chest. It's the most beautiful thing in the world. If he has that to listen to every night, he won't need caffeine - or anything else for that matter. All he needed was you. All he ever needed was you.

[black-dragon1998]

Hell must be paid

Synopsis: (Y/N) is a ruling crime boss in National City and the alpha of the city's werewolf pack. When her lover Morgana(let’s pretend she is in this multiverse and the twin sister of Lena Luthor, who stayed behind in Ireland) gets hurt, somebody has to pay.

Two sets of headlights illuminated the night sky as they drove in unison to the docks. The first car stopped with screeching tyres making it stop abruptly and rattle forward in front of the pier,. The figure behind the steering wheel stepping out of the car and looked at the scene around her, knowing it was a cliché but a good cliché.

As she approached the trunk of her car, five guys came out of the other vehicle and set up a perimeter. Blending so into the shadows that if she couldn't sense them (Y/N) wouldn't even know they were there. But (Y/N) could tell all her men apart just by smell. That is how she caught the rat.

Before opening the trunk (Y/N) gave her surroundings a once over. She wouldn't want unwanted guests at her party. Opening the trunk, she ignored the body, pretending to be unconscious. Her acute senses could tell the difference, but she would give him his false sense of security. No, first, she had some things to set up. (Y/N) grabbed the chains and heavy weights from next to the man and threw them at the end of the docks. She was letting them fall with a loud clang.

People always said she had a flair for dramatics. It also gave her time to calm down a little and go over what she was going to do to the dead man before he became a dead man.

Thinking back at what the low life in her car had done made her blood boil, and she could not help but think of who it had almost cost her.

When (Y/N) was sure she wasn't going to rip his guy's throat out, she went to pull him out of the car.

Looking down at the man (Y/N), she watched the man who almost took everything from her a couple of hours ago. She waited for him to look her in the eyes.

She knew who the guy was when her men picked him up: James 'Jimmy' Olsen, a former associate of the Kent Clan. What (Y/N) had heard as of late was that he was working for the Danvers sisters.

James finally opened his eyes after (Y/N) glared at him for a few minutes. He was trying not to show his fear, but (Y/N) knew better. She could practically taste his fear.

"Mister Olsen, how nice of you to stop pretending." (Y/N) said in a sweet voice and kind smile, knowing he wouldn't buy it. The smile dropped when he didn't answer.

"I suggest, Mister Olsen, that you don't look a gifted horse in the mouth. To begin with, you are already on thin ice. So don't throw my kindness in my face." (Y/N) half growls as she grabs him by the shirt collar and lifted him out of the trunk like he weighed nothing more than a trash bag. (Y/N) Threw him toward the weight and chains. He comes down while scraping over the ground. Because his hands and feet were bound, he couldn't prepare himself and landed face first, cutting him up just a bit.

Not even a curse. someone had done this before.

(Y/N) hiked over to him, making her footsteps be heard so he knew she was coming closer. She grabbed James roughly by the shoulder and forced him on his back, with her looming over him—eyes just a little too bright in the night and teeth just a little too sharp.

"what do you want from me?" James asked, trying to get away. The hand on his shoulder prevented him from getting very far.

with the poor lighting around them it was like a demon staring down at him, and he had to do everything he could not let his fear show. With the cocky look, James saw on your face, he knew you could tell anyway.

"I think you know what I want from you, Mister Olsen. Seeing as where my men caught you." Patience was not your strong suit; buy you could be when you had to be.

"your men snatched me off the street with no good reason." James started to struggle, trying to get free. He got nowhere, however, except for being slammed back into the ground.

"No, my men picked you up because you smelled like the explosives that set one of my warehouses on fire tonight. A wolf's nose never lies, Mister Olsen. So, who sent you?" He stayed silent and glared at (Y/N), making her furious. Did the little prick even know what he had almost done tonight, who he had nearly cost her?

If he wouldn't talk to save his life, maybe something else could rattle his cage.

"I heard your sister and her wife adopted a little girl recently." That seemed to strike a nerve because he started to fight like an animal. Making (Y/N) smile.

"you bitch. Keep away from my family!"

"I will if you tell me what I want to know…"

A car approaching them pierced the silence. As the vehicle stopped, a chorus of growls could be heard. The person getting out didn't seem to care as they came closer. (Y/N) craned her neck to the side as the mystery person got closer.

"Let him go (Y/N)." Just a little bit of her Irish accent came through, but otherwise, she sounded exactly like Morgana.

"Well, if it isn't the poster child of the Luthor clan herself. Oh, wait, you are nothing more than the breeding bitch of the youngest Danvers now. Here to save the boy toy? (Y/N)' s mouth turned into a loose grin, more teeth than a smile and a mocking tone.

Eyes rooming over Lena's body. Except for the suit and straight hair, she looked exactly like Morgana.

Morgana who was lying unconscious in a hospital bed after a wall collapsed on her. Caused by an explosion ripping through the warehouse, James Olsen had set on fire.

When Lena noticed (Y/N) wasn't budging, she repeated her request, making (Y/N) laugh.

"You knew me, Lena. Mercy isn't in my book." (Y/N) said. Her attention went back to the man under her. She put the chains around the weight before rapping the weights around James, making her intentions very clear.

"if I let him go, what would that do to my reputation?" (Y/N) could feel her rage build the longer Lena was around. Her scent resembled her wounded lover, setting her inner animal on edge.

Lena was smart enough not to get closer. Sensing that (Y/N) was getting more agitated. Slipping from being a brutal bitch to the animal that dwelled inside.

“(Y/N)! whatever you think James has done…"

"You mean setting my warehouse on fire?" It took Lena a little too long for (Y/N) 's liking to come to James's defence.

"so the Danvers sisters set you up for this, Jimmy." (Y/N) says, looking down at James.

Hoisting him up with one arm, she dangled him over the water.

"And here I thought we were getting somewhere in our meetings."

“(Y/N) please! James was ill-informed. He thought your men were responsible for something my brother did."

"the beating of Winn Scott? That's what this is all about." (Y/N) didn't know if she wanted to scream or laugh.

"the warehouse was empty. I checked!" James yelled, his brave demeanour cracking as he dangled in the air over the water.

"you know what is stored next to that warehouse?" Lena noticed (Y/N) 's demeanour growing colder and becoming more dangerous.

"How should I know!" James was getting frantic.

"next to that warehouse, they stored car batteries. When they caught fire, they exploded. Injuring a very important person to me." That sends Lena's mind into overdrive. Only so many people could get this strong reaction out of you. Before anything else could be said, one of (Y/N) 's men emerged from the shadows.

"boss, she is awake." Lena could feel the heaviness of those words. (Y/N) stepped back from the edge and let James fall to the ground without a second thought. She was walking away before he even hit the ground. When she passed Lena, she stopped for just a moment.

"This isn't forgotten. If Morganna doesn't fully recover, I will see this little stunt as an act of war. Also, you can consider our meeting over and get your men out of my territory within the next 2 hours, or I will consider them fair game." With that, (Y/N) got into her car and sped off.

Lena caught her breath momentarily, not knowing she was holding it. She got to James and helped him out of his binds.

"I hope for all our sakes, James, that Morgana isn't that injured; otherwise, we have a war on our hands. Also, you can explain this to Alex when we get back."

[mncxbe]

What looking in their eyes feels like♡

𝒇𝒕. 𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊, 𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂, 𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊 𝒂𝒏𝒅 𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒛𝒂𝒘𝒂

°☆○

𝑫𝒂𝒛𝒂𝒊

like a hot summer afternoon, peaches ripe in trees and cicadas choiring in the tall grass.

Legs draped over the sides of your wooden chair, you rose your gaze from the book you were reading to take in the image of your boyfriend.

Dazai rose a pearly white cup of coffee to his lips and sipped the chocolate coloured liquid. A little bit of foam lingered at the corner of his mouth and you reached your thumb to wipe it.

Dazai flinched at the sudden touch, giggling lightly. His brown eyes flaked with specs of gold glimmered in the soft evening light. Beautiful, breathtaking.

For someone who wished so strongly to die, he surely seemed to bear the nectar of the Gods, the essence of life right behind his eyelids, pooling in his irises.

"You want a sip?" he asked, handing you the cup and you took it.

After taking a big sip you placed the drink on the little glass table next to you.

Dazai's eyes were still on you, warm, happy, serene. His hand slid up your bare leg, gently caressing your skin.

"My sweet bella..." he hummed, words that you knew were an unspoken "I love you"; and you gave his fingers a squeeze before returning to your book.

In the background, the August sun sank into the city; bright and vibrant like your boyfriend's eyes.

𝑨𝒌𝒖𝒕𝒂𝒈𝒂𝒘𝒂

like galaxies colliding, lonely starts somewhere in the depths of the universe.

As you laid among the cold sheets, limbs entangled with your lover's, you caught a glimpse of the lamplight that filtered through the windows in his eyes. During the day, his eyes seemed lifeless, a cold, dark grey of stormclouds; but at night they shone bright like diamonds.

And all for you.

You lazily traced your fingertips along his cheekbone, causing him to raise a brow in confusion.

"Nothing. I was just looking at your eyes. they're pretty" you said in silvery voice, digits intertwining with his atop the cotton pillow case.

"How so?" he asked, so innocently, a tone reserved only for you during these intimate moments.

You took a moment to breathe in, the aroma of your mixed scents bubbling up inside your lungs.

"They're like the North Star. When I look into your eyes I know I'm home." you smiled.

Akutagawa only sighed in response, pressing his lips to your temple.

"You're my home too, darling" he mumbled against your hair before closing his eyes, drifting into a sweet slumber.

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒄𝒉𝒊

like a land of a thousand fires, crying lightning and gold.

Facades. Masks put on to suit his status as the captain of the Hunting Dogs and one of the world's most fierce soldiers. Cold gaze, sharp like a knife and bearing such intensity that any man could crumble; at almost any time of the day.

But as soon as he entered your home, a sanctuary where you waited for him, all rage and iciness melted away from his gaze.

You could see the change, his stern expression slowly shifting to something warm and kind as you beckoned him to join you on the couch.

"How was work?"

"Tiring. I sure hope you had a better day than mine" he said in a spent tone, taking a seat next to you.

"It was indeed" you added and he smiled so gently that for a moment you forgot all sins of his past.

Sighing, your partner leaned against your chest. His eyes seemed glazed, distant, puddles of amber swirling with worry as he fixated a spot on the wall.

Taking notice of his tense state you combed your fingers through his hair, shushing him.

"You ought to stop worrying so much you know. You'll get wrinkles" you said playfully, earning a smile from him.

"I think it's a bit too late for that, don't you think?"

Still, when your gazes met it was so vivid and tender; citrine coloured irises sparkling with love and hope for better days.

𝑭𝒖𝒌𝒖𝒛𝒂𝒘𝒂

like looking at a crystal lake during winter, a thin layer of ice on top

Thin coils of milky vapour rose from the cups of tea before you, placed on round plates on the table.

On the other side of the desk, your partner stood motionless, gazing through the window of his office. No matter how busy his schedule was he always made time for your little afternoon tea, a scared ritual of yours that you'd been indulging in since the beginning of your relationship.

As you took in his features you couldn't help but notice how his eyes mirrored the sky outside; metallic blue, longing.

Fukuzawa's gaze then slid to you, fingers wrapping around the brim of his cup as he sipped the sweet liquid inside. Even after years of being with him, a cold shiver ran down your spin whenever your gazes met during such moments.

It was somehow like an ice burn, but it was a feeling you adored. The look in his eyes however didn't lack tenderness as he reached over the table and held your hand, affectionately running his thumb over your soft skin.