#I’m on a bus home with nothing to do and I miss them so this is what happens

[starshideurfics]

Thirsty Thursday - Loose

steddie, omegaverse, first time, unwed mothers’ home steve

It’s 1953, Steve is 16, Nancy is older, getting ready to leave for college early. Steve only realizes because he’s throwing up every day and Carol says it’s just like Tina before she went away last year. Steve is scared, but excited, because Nancy is so smart and pretty, he knows she’ll be able to take care of them, that they’ll have such beautiful babies.

But when he tells her, she immediately says, “We can’t keep it, Steve. It’s not like I’m going to marry you, like I’ll throw away my entire future!”

Steve just cradles his belly, murmurs, “But pups are the future…”

“I’m not having pups now. Everyone knows how desperate you smell all the time, how do I even know it’s mine?”

Steve cries. “I love you, Nance.”

“No, you don’t. We’re just kids.”

Steve doesn’t know what else to do after that, he tells his mother. She yells and throws things, asking, “God! What did I do to deserve this whore for a son?”

She’s mostly calmed down by the time his father comes home from work. Together, they make plans. Steve is sent away to an unwed mothers’ home two days later.

They take away his scent tokens. He doesn’t even get to keep the clothes he brought with him, wearing the same smock dresses as all the other residents.

He befriends a fellow omega, but Chrissy is already 7 months along, so he knows she will be gone soon.

Steve writes letters, begging to be brought home; his letters go unanswered. In reality, they are never sent.

He and Chrissy cuddle, approximating sharing a nest on her slim twin bed, scenting each other. Steve marvels at the feeling of Chrissy’s baby kicking and longs for the moment he will get to feel his own baby move. It happens the day Chrissy goes into labor, and Steve cries at the feeling. Then he cries again three days later when Chrissy comes home from the hospital, her pup taken from her, never even getting to hold him.

Her parents come to take her home that weekend. She promises to write to Steve, but the home matron intercepts those letters and burns them.

Steve rarely comes out of his rooms after that. Which means he’s in there when the janitor comes in to clean. Wayne Munson can’t stand the pain these poor omegas go through. He helped a few omegas procure illegal abortions in his youth, but now he does what he can for these unwed mothers. He sneaks little treats into rooms, especially chocolate. And he listens, offers a sympathetic ear, and to send letters for them.

Over the summer, he gets his nephew, Eddie, a job in the gardens, cutting the grass. And he tells him about Steve, how much the poor boy needs a friend.

Wayne convinces Steve to get outside and get some sunshine. Eddie is quiet, a perfect gentleman, simply waving hello.

Steve waves back, can’t help smiling. “You like going to the movies?” Eddie asks.

“We’re not allowed to leave the property,” Steve answers with a shrug.

“But do you like movies? Because you’ve missed some good ones, and I thought, maybe I could tell you about them.”

“I’d like that.”

Everyday Eddie tells Steve the plot of a movie or a book. He sneaks in the funny pages so they can laugh at the jokes together.

And then one day, Steve’s gone. He had his baby, and the nurses took her away and gave her to a nice, middle class, *married* couple.

Steve’s parents come to fetch him right away, so he doesn’t even get to say goodbye to Eddie. But he leaves a scrap of paper with his address in his room, hoping Wayne will find it.

He does. Eddie’s first letter comes barely a week later. They keep up their correspondence until Steve finishes high school. Then he packs his bags, steals $5000 from his father’s safe, and gets on a greyhound bus to Eddie.

Steve’s heart is in his throat as the Greyhound bus pulls into the Forest Hills station. What if Eddie doesn’t meet him? If he came all this way for nothing. He knows he shouldn’t think that.

But he’s scared. He’s just got a suitcase, and a decent chunk of it is taken up by all the letters Eddie has written him for the past 20 months. So much ink spilt over telling Steve about going out with friends, his job at the mechanic’s garage, all his plans for their future.

Steve wrote just as many letters back, telling Eddie everything as their friendship blossomed into an honest to god romance. He shared every important thought, every hope and dream, and only a little because he didn’t have anyone else to confide in.

He was a loose omega. No one talked about where he’d gone or why, but they all knew. Or their mothers kept them in the dark, simply saying the Harrington boy wasn’t allowed over anymore and they’d do best to stay away from him at school.

It was a lonely life, Steve can’t help worrying that Eddie will abandon him too, no matter how many sweet words and declarations of love are stuffed into his suitcase.

It doesn’t matter. All his worries fly away when he sees Eddie, waiting impatiently, holding a simple bouquet of white carnations, breaking into the biggest smile when Steve gets off the bus. Steve smiles and runs over to him, laughing when Eddie picks him up by the waist and spins him around, relieved to be wearing a girdle to contain the squish on his tummy.

“I missed you,” Eddie says gently, cupping Steve’s cheek.

They haven’t kissed yet, not being ready the last time they saw each other, and now… Steve feels like he’s spilled his very soul to Eddie, but the thought of touching lips has him suddenly shy.

Not Eddie though, he stares into Steve’s eyes, his own dark pools of devotion spilling over with want and holding him in place. Then he leans in.

The kiss is soft and sweet, lips closed. Steve is the one to push for more, to delicately trace his tongue along the seam of Eddie’s lips. That’s all the permission Eddie needs, the hand still on Steve’s waist pulling him in tighter.

Steve would happily kiss all afternoon, but Eddie pulls back with a grin and says, “We’ve got an appointment to keep, Sweetheart.”

Eddie takes him to the courthouse, and they meet Wayne there as their witness. Getting married is almost too easy, and Steve can’t help crying when he finally gets to sign his name as Mrs. Steven Munson. To have a family to love him rather than see him as their deepest shame.

From there, Wayne takes them out to dinner to celebrate, insisting that the newlyweds share the most expensive dessert on the menu. Steve keeps thanking Wayne for all he’s done, the old beta waving him off and assuring that it’s what he’d do for anyone, Steve just comes with the added bonus of making his nephew happy. Eddie squeezes his shoulder, silently promising that it’s true.

Then Eddie brings Steve home to their little apartment. “We’ll start looking for someplace bigger, once you’re settled. I didn’t want to pick a place you didn’t like; I know how important it is for an omega to feel comfortable at home, like it’s the right place for your nest.”

Steve practically pounces on Eddie at that, his desires overwhelming his nerves as they hurry to get out of their clothes, then Eddie freezes, staring at Steve in his bra and panties.

He presses his legs together, moves a hand to cover his soft belly where the elasticated waistband cinches in, flesh spilling over the top, stretch marks faded, but still visible.

He feels loose, and Eddie is just staring until suddenly he’s not. His hands pull Steve’s to the side as he murmurs, “Oh, Stevie, you’re beautiful. More beautiful than I ever imagined.”

“Eddie…”

“You are! My beautiful omega. My pretty wife. I love you no matter how you look, but you are too damn pretty for a fella like me.”

Now it’s Steve’s turn to praise. “You are my handsome husband. I don’t want anyone but you.”

“I love you,” Eddie murmurs, kissing him.

Things slow down as they remove their final layers, Eddie marveling at Steve’s naked body before finally covering him and sinking into the wet heat of him.

They make love, and Steve finally understands why people call it that, all his quick liaisons with Nancy focused on her needs as she pounded into him, the alpha coming as quickly as possible, never knotting him, to keep them from getting caught.

Eddie takes his time, uses his fingers to make Steve spill again after the first round, gently rubbing him from the inside and keeping him filled until they’re ready for round two.

Within the year, they have a little yellow house on a corner, flowers in the garden and a baby in the nursery named for his great uncle. Little Wayne isn’t a replacement for the pup that was taken from him, but Steve adores finally getting to be a mother.

Steve never stops missing his first baby. In 1978, she finds him, calling the house. Steve cries silently as she tells him about herself. Her name is Cathy (he always wanted to name her Marilyn), she grew up in Chicago, and now she’s studying to be a nurse. She asks if he would like to meet her, and he instantly says yes.

Eddie holds his hand as they wait in the little restaurant for her to arrive. They don’t bring the kids, but Steve has pictures to show of Cathy’s siblings. He has an old picture of Nancy, so she can see what her father looked like. Not that she needs one; Cathy looks just like Nancy, down to her button nose.

But all that matters to Steve is the fact that he gets to finally—FINALLY—hold his baby girl.

[voiceshearingyouloud]

I’m always wary of saying my partner and I have good communication because since everyone talks about communication as the most important thing and saving grace of a relationship I’ve kind of mythologised it in my head and been like well, there’s no way we’re that good at this. But then I remember that communication is the process of continually talking about your feelings when you’re hurt or when you need something or when you’re happy, and talking about what your plans are for the future of your relationship and your thoughts on your past together and I’m like. Yeah we do kind of ace it on that

[wolvietxt]

💭 thinking about…

𝗅𝗈𝗀𝖺𝗇 𝗁𝗈𝗐𝗅𝖾𝗍𝗍 𝖺𝗉𝗈𝗅𝗈𝗀𝗂𝗌𝗂𝗇𝗀 𝖺𝖿𝗍𝖾𝗋 𝖺𝗇 𝖺𝗋𝗀𝗎𝗆𝖾𝗇𝗍!

pairing : logan howlett x fem!reader warnings : argument, logan shouts at reader over something insignificant, hurt / comfort, ANGST, fluff, happy ending  word count : 2.4k

logan had been on edge for weeks now. everything seemed to be going wrong, one thing after another. his mission plan was falling apart, charles was breathing down his neck, and it felt like no matter how hard he tried, he just couldn’t catch a break. the stress was eating at him, wearing him down little by little until it felt like he was carrying the weight of the world on his shoulders.

you’d noticed the change in him - how he seemed quieter, more distant, his temper flaring up over the smallest things. you tried to help where you could, offering him a shoulder to lean on, giving him space when he needed it, but nothing seemed to work. logan was like a tightly wound spring, ready to snap at any moment.

today had been the worst of all. logan’s day started with a series of frustrating conversations that left him feeling like he was running in circles. every task seemed to come with a new problem, and by the time he left work, he was fuming. his hands clenched into fists as he drove home, his mind racing with everything that had gone wrong. all he wanted was to come home, find some peace, and forget about the day. but even that was too much to ask.

when he walked through the door, he immediately noticed that the kitchen was spotless - so spotless, in fact, that his papers, the ones he’d left scattered across the table, were missing. he felt a surge of irritation. you had been on a cleaning spree, trying to make the house more comfortable for him, but in doing so, you’d moved around some of his blueprints. the ones he needed. the ones he hadn’t had time to organise properly.

“where are my papers?” logan’s voice was tight as he scanned the kitchen, looking for the documents that were now nowhere to be seen.

you looked up from where you were organising the bookshelf, smiling a little at him. “oh, i moved them to the study so you’d have more space. i thought - ”

“you thought?” logan cut you off, his voice rising. “why would you move my stuff without asking me?”

you blinked, caught off guard by the sharpness in his tone. “i just wanted to help. i know you’ve been stressed, and i thought having a clean space might - ”

“a clean space?” logan’s laugh was harsh, bitter. “i don’t need a clean space, i need my work to not be messed with! do you have any idea how much shit i’ve been dealing with lately? and now this - this is the last thing i need!”

he was shouting now, the frustration of the past few weeks boiling over. every little thing that had gone wrong, every setback, every sleepless night - it all came out in a torrent of anger directed at you. 

“logan, i didn’t mean to make things worse…” you tried to explain, but he wasn’t listening. he was too far gone, too wrapped up in his own frustration to hear the hurt in your voice.

“you never think, do you? you just do whatever you want, and now i’m the one who has to deal with the consequences! i’m sick of this! i’m sick of everything always going wrong, and now you’re just adding to it!”

his words cut through you like a knife. you hadn’t meant to make things worse, you 

were just trying to help, but the way he was yelling at you, the anger in his voice - it was too much. your chest tightened, and you could feel the tears welling up in your eyes, but you tried to hold them back. 

“logan, please… i’m sorry, i just wanted to make things easier for you,” you said, your voice trembling.

“easier? easier for me?” he snapped, his voice dripping with sarcasm. “well, congratulations, because you’ve done the exact opposite! now i have to waste even more time finding everything you moved, and i’m already drowning here!”

the tears you’d been trying so hard to hold back finally spilled over. you tried to wipe them away quickly, but logan was still shouting, too caught up in his own anger to notice.

“why can’t you just leave things the way they are? why do you always have to interfere? it’s like you don’t even care how much pressure i’m under! do you even care about anything besides what you want?”

his words were like a punch to the gut, and you couldn’t hold it in any longer. a sob escaped your lips, loud and broken, and it stopped logan in his tracks. the sound cut through his anger like a knife, and suddenly, the room was silent. 

he stared at you, his chest heaving as he tried to process what was happening. you were crying - no, you were sobbing, and it hit him like a ton of bricks. all the anger, all the frustration that had been driving him just moments ago, drained away, leaving him feeling hollow and ashamed.

“y/n…” he started, his voice shaky now, all the sharp edges gone. “shit, i didn’t mean…”

but you couldn’t stop crying, the weight of his words crashing down on you all at once. you hadn’t realised just how much stress he’d been under, how deeply it had been affecting him, and now it felt like you’d only made everything worse.

logan stepped closer, his hands reaching out, but he hesitated. he didn’t know how to fix this - how to take back the things he’d said, the hurt he’d caused. “hey, hey… please don’t cry. i’m sorry, i didn’t… i didn’t mean any of that.”

his hands were trembling as he finally pulled you into his arms, holding you tightly against his chest. he could feel your sobs wracking your body, and it broke something inside him. how could he have been so blind? so stupid? 

“i’m so fucking sorry,” he whispered, his voice rough with emotion. “i’m an idiot, and i let all this shit get to me, and i took it out on you. you didn’t deserve any of that.”

you clung to him, your fingers digging into his shirt as you tried to calm down. his arms were strong around you, holding you like you were the only thing anchoring him to reality. and maybe, in that moment, you were.

logan pressed his lips to the top of your head, murmuring apologies over and over, his voice thick with regret. “i’m sorry… i’m so fucking sorry… please, y/n, don’t cry. i hate seeing you like this.”

you wanted to tell him that it was okay, that you understood, but the words were stuck in your throat. instead, you just held onto him, letting him hold you, letting his presence calm the storm inside you.

it took a while for your sobs to finally subside, and when they did, you felt exhausted, like all the fight had been drained out of you. but logan didn’t let go - he just held you tighter, like he was afraid that if he let go, you’d slip away.

“i’ve been such a fucking mess lately,” he admitted, his voice barely above a whisper. “everything’s been going wrong, and i didn’t know how to deal with it. i’ve been pushing you away, taking it out on you, and that’s not fair. it’s not fair to you, and it’s not fair to us.”

you nodded against his chest, your fingers still gripping his shirt. “i just wanted to help… i hate seeing you like this. it feels like you’re slipping away from me, and i don’t know how to bring you back.”

logan’s heart clenched at your words. he hadn’t realised how much his behaviour had been affecting you, how much you’d been carrying on your own. he felt a fresh wave of guilt wash over him, and he held you even tighter.

“y’re not losing me,” he said firmly, pulling back just enough to look into your eyes. his thumb gently brushed away the tears on your cheeks, his touch soft, careful. “i promise you, you’re not losing me. i’ve just been so caught up in my own shit that i forgot what really matters.”

you searched his eyes, looking for the truth in his words, and you found it there - clear and unwavering. he was still here, still the man you loved, even if he’d lost his way for a while.

“i’m not going anywhere,” he continued, his voice steady now, a promise in every word. “we’re going to get through this. together.”

you nodded, a small, shaky smile forming on your lips. “yeah.”

logan leaned in, pressing his forehead against yours, his breath warm against your skin. “i love you,” he whispered, his voice filled with all the emotion he’d been holding back for weeks. “i love you so much. and i’m going to do better, i can fuckin’ promise you that, bub.”

you closed your eyes, letting his words wash over you, feeling the truth in them. you knew it wouldn’t be easy - logan was stubborn, and he had a lot to work through - but you also knew that he meant every word. he loved you, and that was enough.

“i love you too,” you whispered back, your voice soft but steady. 

logan’s lips found yours in a gentle, lingering kiss, one that spoke of apologies and promises of love and commitment. when he pulled back, he rested his forehead against yours again, his eyes closed as he took a deep breath. logan smiled - a real, genuine smile that you hadn’t seen in what felt like forever. 

the two of you stayed like that for a while longer, just holding each other, finding comfort in the closeness. the argument, the hurt, the tears - they were all still there, but they didn’t feel as overwhelming now. you both knew there was work to be done, but for the first time in weeks, it felt like you were on the same page, like you could actually do this.

when logan finally pulled away, he took your hand and led you to the couch, where the two of you sat down together. his arm wrapped around your shoulders, pulling you close to his side, and you leaned into him, resting your head on his chest.

“tell me what’s been going on,” you said softly, wanting to understand what had been eating at him for so long. “i want to help, logan. i don’t want you to go through this alone.”

logan let out a long sigh, running a hand through his hair as he tried to find the right words. “it’s just been one thing after another. work’s been a nightmare. nothing’s going right, and scott is on my case constantly. every day, it feels like i’m just… barely keeping my head above water. and then i come home, and i don’t want to burden you with all of this, but it’s just… it’s been too much.”

you listened quietly, letting him talk, letting him get it all out. you could hear the exhaustion in his voice, the frustration, the weight he’d been carrying for so long. it broke your heart to know he’d been dealing with all of this on his own, and you hadn’t even realised how bad it had gotten.

“logan,” you said softly when he finished, your voice filled with compassion. “you don’t have to carry this by yourself. i’m here, and i want to help. we’re a team, remember?”

logan nodded, his eyes closing as he rested his head back against the couch. “i know. i just… i didn’t want to unload all of this on you. i didn’t want to worry you.”

“but i was already worried,” you pointed out gently. “because i could see that something was wrong, and you weren’t talking to me about it. that’s what scared me the most - not knowing what was going on in your head.”

logan’s grip on your hand tightened, and he turned to look at you, his eyes filled with regret. “i’m sorry. i didn’t mean to shut you out. i just… didn’t know how to talk about it. i didn’t want you to see me like this.”

“logan, you don’t have to be perfect,” you said, your voice firm but loving. “i love you for who you are, flaws and all. and if you’re struggling, i want to know. i want to be there for you, just like you’ve always been there for me.”

logan’s expression softened, and he leaned in to press a kiss to your forehead. “i don’t deserve you,” he murmured against your skin. “but i’m so fucking grateful that you’re here.”

you smiled, wrapping your arms around him and holding him close. “you deserve all the love in the world, logan. and i’m not going anywhere. we’ll figure this out, one step at a time.”

logan nodded, his heart swelling with emotion. he knew he was lucky to have you, and he was determined to do better - to be better. for you, and for himself.

the two of you spent the rest of the evening talking, really talking, about everything that had been weighing on logan’s mind. it wasn’t easy, but it was necessary, and by the end of the night, you both felt a sense of relief that had been missing for far too long.

logan knew he still had a lot to work through, but he also knew that he wasn’t alone. you were by his side, ready to face whatever challenges came your way. and for the first time in weeks, he felt like he could finally breathe again.

as you both drifted off to sleep that night, wrapped up in each other’s arms, logan made a silent promise to himself: he would never take you for granted again. you were his rock, his safe haven, and he was going to do everything in his power to make sure you knew just how much you meant to him.

because at the end of the day, no matter how tough things got, you were the one thing in his life that he couldn’t afford to lose. and he would do whatever it took to keep you by his side, now and always.

[helen-with-an-a]

You always have an excuse

Hi. So this is a request and I really liked the idea. Hopefully, I did it justice. I hope you enjoy

Barca Femeni x reader

Description: R always has excuses but eventually slips up.

Part 1 : Part 2

Word Count: 3.8k

Shit. Shit. Shit. You were late. You were so late. But it wasn’t your fault; indeed, honestly, it wasn’t your fault. Your parents were not the greatest at being parents. They had you when they were just 16 and far too young to be having children. Sure, they paid for your football stuff and gave you a lot of what you asked for, but it was to keep you quiet and out of the house. You didn’t mind too much. It was easier when you only had to look out for yourself, never telling your parents where or who you were with. You always had a range of excuses ready for anyone who asked – lying and telling your friend’s parents that someone else would be taking you home, saying your mum was just around the corner, she had work so couldn’t come to your matches. It was fine. You knew nothing different.

You signed for La Masia when you were 10. The training was intense, but you loved it. You thrived under the pressure, quickly working your way up the ranks. Your debut for the first team happened shortly before your 16th birthday. You had never felt prouder of yourself.

“And here we have it. At just 15 years old, Y/F/N Y/S/N, making her debut for FC Barcelona Femeni. She’s homegrown, working her way up La Masia ranks. She is definitely a future star.” The commentator said as you made your way onto the pitch. This is what you have been dreaming of since you discovered football. This was the dream that only some people achieved. And you were one of them. A professional footballer. Your life’s goal was achieved.

The game was an easy win. The other team was fighting a relegation battle, as Barca slipped 10 goals past their keeper.

“Vamos,” Patri shouted as she shook you by the shoulders. “A debut and a brace. Is that a Ballon d’Or I see in your future?” You laughed as she wrapped you in a fierce hug.

“Neña, what a performance, hey?” Mapi called as Alexia affectionately hit the back of your head.

“Where’s your Mamí? I’m sure she wants to see you after that performance.” You didn’t even bat an eyelid as you smiled sweetly at Marta

“Oh, she said we’d meet outside by the main gates – saves us from trying to find each other on the pitch and in the crowd.” You waved at the chaos surrounding you. You knew your mother was nowhere near the football stadium – you doubted she even knew you had a football match, let alone your senior debut. It was easy to slip away from the changing rooms; you had significant practice doing it most of your life.

And now you were running so, so late. You had woken up on time, but the food in the house looked a little off, so you rushed to get something from the bakery on your way to the bus stop. But the line was bigger than anticipated, so you were rushing to catch the bus. A man walking in the other direction wasn’t paying attention and crashed into you, causing you to drop your stuff and spill hot coffee all over yourself. That had disrupted your flow, and you missed the bus, having to wait 5 minutes for the next one, which wasn’t a big deal. However, the metro system was delayed. And now you were 10 minutes behind, and then the bus you were supposed to catch from the metro station to the training centre never showed up, so you had to catch an alternative one, making you 30 minutes late. You had texted Jona to tell you you were running late but you knew you had laps waiting for you when you actually got there. You arrived at the pitch hot, sweaty, and tired. This was not an ideal start to the morning.

It was a known ‘Alexia Rule’ that every minute late to practice without a reasonable excuse was a lap. As you arrived at the huddle, one boot on, one still in your hand and your shirt stained with coffee, you could tell she was unimpressed. With all your rushing, you had forgotten to think of an excuse. You didn’t want to tell her the real reason; you had a feeling ‘Oh, sorry Alexia, I’m late because my parents are really shitty, forget they have a kid sometimes, and they haven’t been home in over a week, and the food in the fridge looked a little funky’ would not go down too well. She arched an eyebrow at you.

“Um …” You floundered, thinking about what to say. You could tell her the semi-truth that the metro was delayed and you had missed the buses, but they thought you got dropped off at the top of the road by your dad on the way to work. You could tell them there was traffic, but they all drove, so they knew you were lying.

“You have 30 laps to run at the end of training,” Alexia had a stern voice that you knew meant she was serious. 30 laps? That was basically 10k. Your eyes widened to comically sized proportions. 45 minutes of running around in a circle … after training? She was trying to kill you; you were convinced of it.

“You can’t be serious?” You gawked at her. Her other eyebrow rose to join the other one.

“Deadly.” She said icily and walked away.

Holy fuck. You were really, royally fucked this time. You were so dead. You had to miss training. But again, it hadn’t been your fault. The boiler had broken in your house, which wasn’t a big deal – it was late spring in Barcelona, and you didn’t need heating. But you did need the hot water. You had tried to ask your parents to stay home whilst someone fixed it, knowing that you had training and they could definitely work from home for a day. They had dismissed you with a flippant wave of their hands and continued what they were doing. You phoned the company, asking them to come and fix it as soon as possible. But, as expected, they told you they would be there before lunch, which was the best they could offer. It was now 2.30pm, and there was no sign of them. You had texted Jona this morning, offering a weak excuse of feeling a little rough. You hadn’t expected him to tell Alexia that you were feeling bad, and it sounded like you were home alone.

The knock on the door had you running towards it – thinking it was the person coming to fix the boiler. “Gracias, Gracias. Es el …” You rushed the explanation, not realising that it was not a plumber but rather your irate captain. You froze as you looked up. Shit.

“You look fine, neña. You don’t look like you’ve … what was it? Ah, yes, ‘picked up a little something’.” She was far too calm. You could see her anger bubbling under the surface, though.

“Ale, I-” you tried to explain.

“No, no quiero escucharlo,” she cut you off, a hand raising to stop you. “You lied. You skipped training. Was it worth it? Was it so much more important than training?” She hadn’t bothered to come into the house, standing at your front door, a bag of things meant to help you feel better in her hand. “Here,” she shoved it at you. “You’re on the bench until you can prove that you want to be a part of Barcelona Femeni.” And with that, she stormed off.

Tears welled in your eyes. She hadn’t let you explain … but what could you say? ‘Sorry, Ale, my parents are arseholes and don’t realise that I have a life and a job as well’? ‘Sorry, Ale, I had to wait for the plumber to come and fix our heating and hot water, and no, my parents – the adults in the house – couldn’t do it because they think their time is so much more important than mine’? ‘Sorry, Ale, I’m currently trying to raise myself, and whilst I’m usually ok at it, sometimes I fuck up’? You couldn’t say those things to her. You couldn’t tell her how tough your life could be sometimes … most of the time. You couldn’t tell her that your parents don’t even know you have a game, let alone watch it or attend it. You couldn’t tell her you often wake up in an empty house for weeks because your parents jetted off somewhere again. You couldn’t tell her that you doubt your parents could even tell you your full name and birthday.

She thought you didn’t want to be a part of Barca. Barca was your saving grace. Barca was the only thing that got you out of bed. The friendships you made were the closest thing to a normal family you had. Jana, Vicky, Martina, Patri, Claudia, Bruna, Esmee, Salma … they were your crazy cousins, always making you laugh and willing to go along with your mad ideas. Ona, Aitana, Lucy, Cata, Mapi … they were your big sisters, always protecting you on and off the pitch and lightly teasing you. Ingrid, Caro, Keira, Mariona, Frido … they were the calming aunts that helped you through any predicament. Marta, Paños, Irene … Alexia … they were your motherly figures, the people you could always rely on to love you regardless of what else was happening in your life. Did they think you didn’t want to be there? Barcelona was the single most greatest thing that had ever happened to you.

You looked at the bag Alexia had shoved at you. It was full of healthy smoothies, nutritious snacks, and your favourite chocolates. You could even see a soft teddy instructing you to ‘Get Well Soon’. It made you sob even harder. Eventually, you moved to the sofa. Once you started crying, you couldn’t stop. You cried over everything – disappointing Alexia, having no hot water, being benched, your parents' dislike of you, your seeming lack of support system, how you appeared to fuck up the one good thing in your life. You cried yourself to sleep on the sofa, clutching the bag to your chest and feeling so incredibly sorry for both you and the girls you had failed.

The next morning, you looked horrific – puffy, red eyes, dishevelled hair, blotchy skin. You didn’t even try to hide it as you made your way to the bus stop, ignoring the weird looks thrown your way. You were in a daze as you walked through the metro system and onto the second bus, forgetting to hurry down the side alleys instead of the main road. You didn’t see Ingrid’s car as it drove past you, a concerned Mapi, Ingrid, Ona, and Lucy in it.

“Era que?” Mapi asked, pointing over her shoulder.

“Y/N? Sí, fue” Ona nodded.

“Why, though? She said she gets dropped off by her dad on his way to work.” Ingrid was just as perplexed. You seemed to know exactly where you were going and had stepped off the bus with an ease only known to someone who took the same route every day.

“Maybe it was a one-off? He couldn’t take her today, so she had to get the bus? Although I don’t know why she wouldn’t just ask one of us – she lives on most of our routes to work.” Lucy pondered, all of them confused over you.

“Hey,” Ingrid said as you walked into the changing rooms. You didn’t even smile at her, just nodding and moving to your cubby. “Um … so, how come you were on the bus?” You froze. How did she know you got the bus?

“It’s just that we saw you as we were driving in. If you needed a lift, you could’ve just asked; you know we’d all be more than happy to —” Ona explained.

“Yeh, my d-dad only told me this morning that he couldn’t take me the whole way, so … he dropped me off near the metro, and I just got the bus from there,” you lied, rushing to gather your boots and head to the pitch. It was a blatant lie. Your voice was too high, and your hands shook slightly as you tried to devise a realistic excuse.

“Todas sabemos que era una mentira, verdad?” Mapi looked around as the door swung shut.

The following month in training was awkward, to say the least. After your slip-up with the bus, you made sure to take the earlier trains, getting to training before most people had even left their beds. You figured you’d use the time to prove to Alexia and the others that you wanted to be there. You were still benched, but your name was still on the game day sheet, so you liked to believe they weren’t thinking of selling you or cancelling your contract after the season ended. The issue was getting home. If you stayed late, you were often questioned, but if you were seen walking out of the car park, you were also questioned. You really needed to learn how to drive ... quickly.

Eventually, Jona could no longer justify you sitting on the bench. Barca had the Champions League semi-finals coming up, and everyone noted your absence on the pitch.

“Y/N, you will be playing the next match. You’re going to be a sub around 60 or 70 minutes.” It was a short announcement, but you couldn’t help your heart soar. Did this mean they finally believed you when you said that Barca was the best thing that happened to you? Alexia still hadn’t looked at you since That Day, but she was no longer actively seething, which you took as a win. But now you would be playing in the home leg of the Champions League semi-finals. You were nervous, but not because of the match; you were on a 0 – 3 aggregate, and you were going to be playing at Camp Nou – it was an almost guaranteed win –but because you knew the team would be more suspicious of your lack of parents.

You decided to do what you always did – never look to the crowd, do a lap of the stadium for the fans, hurry back into the changing rooms, and slip away. Simple. Easy. You had been doing it all your life. But you hadn’t accounted for how attentive the team would be. They watched you wearily from a distance, concerned when you made no effort to look to the friends and family section during warm-ups or after the match when everyone usually went to see their loved ones. You stayed back, signing more things for fans, and then headed straight to the tunnel. After the celebration in the changing rooms, you gathered your things and disappeared before anyone could bring them up. You had mastered the art of vanishing like a ghost after matches.

But now it was the final. It was obviously an away game, but everyone’s family came. Even the coaching staff brought their loved ones. Not you, though. Your parents hadn’t known you’d left the country, let alone understood that you were playing in the most prestigious match in Europe for clubs. You were in the Starting XI, but you weren’t nervous. You knew you could win this match; this Champions title was yours for the taking. You didn’t realise that the fact that you had no family would be exposed the minute the final whistle went.

You played the full 90 minutes and an extra 5 for injury time. You were exhausted, but that didn’t matter as soon as the clock ran out. You had done it. Champions of Europe. The screams and shouts were so loud it hurt your ears, but you didn’t care. You felt unstoppable.

“Vamos, pequeña. Donde esta tu mamí? Quiero finalmente conocer a la mujer a la que debemos agradecer por regalarle al mundo contigo.” Mapi said as you sat on the grass, your medal around your neck.

“Más tarde. I just want to sit here and soak this all in.” You waved her away. She took you at your word but made meaningful eyes at Alexia, having an unspoken conversation as you moved away. Alexia watched as you leaned back, resting on your arms, legs outstretched, and eyes shut – head tilted to feel the sun on your skin. She waited for 10 minutes, watching you make no effort to see your family. It was the first thing she had done after the trophy celebration. She had run straight to her mother and sister, thanking them profusely for all their sacrifices and expressing so much gratitude towards them – throwing her sweaty body at them and tackling them into long, tight hugs.

“Do you want to see your family now?” It was the first non-football-related words she’d said to you in well over a month.

“No, I’m ok. I’ll see them later,” you dismissed her quickly.

“Do you know where they are? We could bring them down onto the pitch if you don’t want to stand up.” She wasn’t letting this go. She had an inkling that she hoped was wrong.

“It’s alright, Ale. Honestly. I’m fine sitting here, soaking this all up by myself.” You hadn’t opened your eyes, so you had assumed from the quietness she had moved away. “It’s not like you’d find them anyway,” you whispered as an unwanted tear escaped you.

“Qué quieres decir, cariño?” Your eyes snapped open, coming face to face with Alexia, Ona and Keira. You sat up, trying to hide your face.

“Oh, noth-”

“No me mientas. Dónde están tu mamí y papí?” Alexia asked sternly. You misunderstood her, thinking she was angry at you. You shook your head, refusing to answer.

“Neña, are your parents here?” Ona asked quietly, coming to sit next to you. You took a deep breath.

“No. They aren’t.”

“Do you want to phone them?” Keira suggested, hoping that it was just because they couldn’t take time away from work to attend in person. She also sat down, gesturing her phone to you as an invitation to use it. You took another deep breath.

“I don’t think they even know I had a football match, let alone a Champions League final.” Another tear slipped down your cheek. Alexia sat in front of you, reaching for your hands.

“Qué quieres decir?” She asked again, thumbs rubbing gently over the backs of your hands.

“My parents … I don’t really know how to say it,” you paused, Ona gently rubbing your back comfortingly. “My parents don’t really … parent?” You chuckled lightly.

“They don’t support you?” Keira asked, her hand resting on your knee.

“They don’t care enough. They leave for weeks on end without telling me. I get food and stuff like that on my own. I’m basically raising myself at this point. I don’t think they know I have a contract with Barca. I doubt they even know I play football. They just let me do whatever I wanted as long as I was out of the house, not causing trouble and quiet; they didn’t care. They’re lucky I haven’t turned into a criminal or something.” You tried to add a joke to lighten the mood.

“But you said you meet up with your parents after home matches,” Ona couldn’t imagine achieving half the things she did without her family supporting her from the sidelines.

“And you told us your dad drops you off every morning on the way to work,” Keira added, equally disbelieving – her parents were her biggest fans.

“Yeh, I lied. I just go home after matches. And I get the metro to training.”

“But training is nowhere near the metro, and you don’t live near a metro station either.” She still didn’t want to consider what you were saying to be true.

You explained, “I get a bus from mine to the metro and then a bus from the metro to training.”

“That’s why you were getting off the bus that day when we saw you,” Ona realised. She hadn’t trusted your story but had considered no other possibilities.

“That’s why you're late to training sometimes? Because of the buses and trains?” Alexia asked, her hands never leaving yours.

“Yeh.” You looked down, ashamed of your situation and lying to them.

“And that day when you missed training. You weren’t sick. What happened?”

“I … um … the boiler broke, so I had to wait for someone to come fix it. Which they never did, by the way. I had to phone some random company that massively overcharged me, and the water definitely doesn’t get as hot as it used to.” You babbled nervously. “It wasn’t because I don’t want to be at Barca. It’s the only thing that keeps me going, knowing that I have you guys looking out for me. It makes everything else seem not as bad,” you whispered, needing them to know just how important Barca was to you. You looked around. Patri and Pina tried to do the perfect chest bump as Jana and Bruna filmed. Lucy was chasing her niece and nephew. Ingrid and Mapi were with Ingrid’s parents, smiling widely as they talked. Marta and Caro were sat off to one side, talking quietly. You could see the others dotted around the stadium, talking to fans, speaking to parents, and enjoying the support.

“Cariño, I am so sorry,” Alexia implored. I shouted at you and benched you. I’m sorry I made you think I didn’t believe you took Barca seriously.”

“Why didn’t you tell us, neña?” Ona asked.

“We only want what’s best for you, kid,” Keira added.

“Um … I don’t really know. It doesn’t really matter. It’s been like this my whole life, so…”

“Cariño. It does matter. But we know now, and that’s all that matters, sí?” Alexia stood up, dragging you with her. “Let’s go see my family. Mi Mamí has been asking to meet you for ages. And before you say no, she already has plans for you to come round for dinner one night. Y en secreto, ella siempre quiso una tercera hija.” She said, wrapping an arm around your shoulder as Ona took your hand.

“Oh, Eli will have to fight my Mama on that one, Ale. She always wanted a goal-scoring daughter.”

“Well, my mum says you are more than welcome to stay at her house if you ever visit the UK as long as you cook her paella.” Keira smiled.

Maybe your biological family was shite, but your found one certainly wasn't.

I hope you liked it <3

[loving-barnes]

LOGAN HOWLETT - DEFEND YOUR HONOUR

A/N: And another one-shot with my precious Logan. This has angst and some fluff. Enjoy!

Pairing: Logan Howlett x Mutant! female reader

Warning: angst, some fluff

Words: 3700+

Important note: Hugh Jackman!Wolverine (which means he's tall as fuck!)

FULL MASTERLIST | LOGAN HOWLETT MASTERLIST

LOGAN HOWLETT - DEFEND YOUR HONOUR

It was a wild, exhausting day. Well, more like five days. The last time I visited my parents was almost a year ago. They knew nothing about my new life, only the lies I told them.  That’s why I didn’t have time to see them as often as they wanted to. 

I missed them. That’s why I came back. I thought my short vacation with them in my home town would be without incidents and fights. Oh how wrong I was. 

It was eleven in the evening. I was sitting on the front porch, wrapped in a fluffy blanket. The night was cold. Autumn hit with full force. I wished I could return to the place where I felt more at home. Unfortunately, the school was over four hours drive away from my hometown. 

I had my phone in my hands, contemplating whether to call the person who could make me smile or not. My eyes were on the contact name, and I was not sure whether to press the button or forget about it and head back to bed. It was too late for a phone call even when I knew he’d be up. After a couple of deep breaths, I decided to tap the screen and call my boyfriend Logan. 

<< Hey baby. 

Hearing his voice made me smile. Logan picked up the call quickly. “Hi. I hope I didn’t wake you up.” 

<< No, of course not. I’m reading that book you got me before you left. Damn, good choice, baby. 

I laughed. “Yeah, it’s that good? Glad you like it. Maybe I’ll get you to read more. Even if they are historical memoirs or anything that has to do with history. We could start our own club, just the two of us.” I heard him laugh. Quickly, he changed the topic.

<< So, how’s the visit going? Everything good? 

I sighed, not knowing what to say to him. I didn’t want to complain. I already told him something about my parents - how they treat me even when they care about me. My relationship with my family was complicated. “It’s okay,” I said simply. “It’s okay. Really, okay.”

<< One more and I’ll believe ya.

“It is what it is. I always believe it’ll be better and it’s not,” I admitted. “Only two more days and I’ll head to the mansion. I have the bus tickets and everything planned to get back.” 

<< What happened, darlin’? You know you can talk to me.

“I know,” I kept shaking my head, nodding to no one. “I just don’t want to complain. I hate complaining. I’m a big girl. I can handle it.” 

<< I get that you hate it. But maybe it’s time you did complain a little. I am here for you, darlin’. I’ll listen and we can talk about it. I don’t want you to feel miserable. Just… can’t believe you decided to visit them when they treat you like shit. 

He was right. They always treated me like shit. As an only child, I was the black sheep of the family. Or they saw me as one. My parents didn’t mind ridiculing me in front of our other relatives or their friends. Even as an adult, they continued to do this to me. I was dumb enough to let them. 

<< Tell me what happened, Y/N.

“We visited my relatives, my father’s sister, and they all ganged up on me,” I said. My voice was low. I whispered most of the time, not to wake anyone up. 

I didn’t trust anyone from my family. They didn’t know I was a mutant, where I was working or that I saved the day multiple times since becoming an X-man. They lost my trust the moment they decided to invade my privacy as a teen and snoop around my messages, diaries and stuff. It wasn’t just that. I was ridiculed for liking books, and for being too excited about the little things in life. My taste for music was weird and laughable. My lack of interest in boys was concerning. It was a whole story. 

“My friend and I wanted to go to a concert in a few months. I got excited someone wanted to attend with me - no, baby, you don’t listen to that kind of music -  and they decided to make me feel miserable for my excitement,” I explained. 

<< Darlin’, why do you always let them do this to you? 

“Because I am dumb,” I rolled my eyes. “Because I hate fights and any type of quarrels. I don’t like conflicts.” 

Logan knew I never mentioned to my family that I was seeing someone. I wasn’t ashamed of the relationship - the opposite, honestly. My family didn’t deserve to know anything about me. 

<< I think it’s time you cut contact with them. I know it sounds horrible when I say it. As If I tried to influence you in some way. Just, fuck, I hate when they make you miserable. Baby, to me, it seems like they don’t care and don’t give a shit about your well-being. 

I knew he was right. And yet, I was afraid to do that step. “They are my parents-”

<<Whom treat you like shit, Y/N. I am so fucking angry at them. I should have come with you. I’d be there to teach them a fucking lesson about respecting the woman I love. 

Those words made me smile. Never in my life have I had someone to defend me like Logan would. The grump, my grump, was there for me when no one was. He was mine for over a year now. 

“You love me, yay,” I said happily. 

<< Baby, you know damn well I love you. I should have been there tonight. I should have been there to let them know how shitty they are. 

I hummed. “That’s okay. I know you’d defend my honour. And I love you for that. I need to survive two more days before I head back to school. The bus drive will be the best thing from this trip.” 

<< The school is your home. So, come back home. Change the bus tickets and leave. I want you here with me, darlin’. 

“No,” I shook my head. “That would be rude. I need to toughen up and survive these last two days. Afterwards, I’m done. Besides, I don’t have a good emergency story.” 

<< You don’t need one. 

“Logan, come on,” I sighed. “I’ll be back in two days. I miss you. Can’t wait to be with you. I’m staying.”

<< Miss you too, darlin’. Two fucking days.

I had to laugh. He was cute and he didn’t know that. After that, we ended the call. I remained sitting on the porch swing, looking at the silent street. Everyone was asleep. The whole neighbourhood calmed down as their residents rested for the night. 

The air got colder, so I moved from the porch, back to my old room and headed to bed. What if I was exaggerating the problem with my parents? What if it was me creating conflict when there wasn’t any? With a heavy sigh, I went to bed. 

The next day was a chaos. Around lunch, my father’s aunt and her family came to the house. “Didn’t your mother tell you? We’ll have lunch together and we wanted to be with you some more before you leave again,” my aunt chuckled at her words. 

“Great,” I said, but I wasn’t thrilled at all.

Her kids were loud, spoilt brats. They’d let them do anything they wanted. It pissed me off. I knew they were my cousins. Unfortunately. As much as I wanted to teach them a lesson and tell them no, their mother would always allow everything. 

Both boys were running around the house, screaming and throwing toys around. To calm them down, they got tablets to do whatever they wanted -  a movie, a game? Why not both? 

Logan was right. I should have left. I didn’t want to spend the rest of the day with them. And with lunch approaching, I knew it would be a stressful one. All the yelling, the bitching and moaning…

We were about to head to the dining table when we heard the doorbell ring once the food was ready to be served. “I’ll get it,” I said. I was the closest to them. 

As I walked to the door, I put my hair in a messy bun, to keep them away when I’d eat. I expected to see a neighbour or another family member that I wasn’t interested in seeing. When I opened the door, I gasped.

“Hey, darlin’.” 

Logan was leaning against the doorframe. He had black sunglasses on his face, dressed in those damn jeans and a green-blue flannel shirt. A brown leather jacket was resting on his shoulders. Dressed to kill… me. Fuck. He looked hot.

“Holy shit, what are you doing here?” My eyes widened, lips twitched because they wanted to curl into a smile. I grabbed him by the leather jacket to pull myself closer to him. He smelled like cigars and nice minty body spray. 

“I came to rescue my princess from this hellhole,” he said, voice firm and serious. 

I coughed. “What? Baby, we’re having an unexpected family lunch,” I made a face. “Holy shit, I can’t believe you are here,” I hummed with a smile. “Wait, did you ask Charles to help you get here? You went through my file!” 

“I needed to get here somehow,” said Logan innocently. “And it seems I am on time for lunch. I am starving.”

My mouth dropped to the floor when I heard him say that. I wanted to say something, anything. Unluckily, my mother decided to make herself present by approaching us. “Oh, hello, is everything okay?” she asked us. 

Logan put down his glasses and grinned at my mother. “I came to see your daughter.” 

“Oh?” 

I looked up at the ceiling, cursing mentally. I felt stress crawl up my back. Not because Logan decided to show up. It was my mother’s subtle reactions. How her brows rose, how I could sense the tension in her body. Or was it thrill?

“This… is… Logan,” I lazily turned to my mother. “He’s my boyfriend.” 

“You have a boyfriend?!” she squealed. “And you didn’t tell us?” It seemed she was offended. “You never tell us anything! Ah! This is a big deal. Oh my god!”

Deep breath in and slow exhale. I did it multiple times. Immediately, Logan approached me as I tried to calm myself down. He rested his hand on my lower back. 

One last deep breath. “Uh, we’ll be right there. I need to talk to Logan for a moment, okay?” 

My mother nodded, grinning like a maniac. She clapped her hands and ran back to the dining room. I knew she would let her mouth run wild and comment on what she saw. Lunch was about to turn into a nightmare. 

“You okay, baby?” Logan asked me gently. 

I pushed him outside and closed the door behind us. I was panicking a little. “This day is crazy,” I mumbled. “Oh my god.” I panicked a little. 

As I got closer to Logan, he wrapped his arms around my body, pressing me to his chest. “Everything will be fine,” he assured me. “You angry at me?” 

“No,” I said. “Quite the opposite. I’m glad you are here,” I inhaled his scent which helped me calm down a bit. “Fuck, you are like a gift from heaven. I should have listened to you and headed back to school. I’ve been receiving shit since the very morning. And now, my aunt and her family are here and… I want to run away.” 

He pressed a kiss on top of my head. “So, let’s go. Fuck them,” he said. “I’ll get your stuff and we are out of here.” 

“It’s not that easy,” I sighed. 

He growled, thinking. “Okay, listen to me,” he pushed me enough to look into my face. “Here’s the deal. One shit, one stupid thing from them, we are out. I don’t give a shit they are your family. They will not disrespect you. I won’t allow that.” 

I didn’t have the chance to say something. Logan took my hand and led me back into the house. He trusted his instinct which led him to a room filled with my family members. The moment we stepped into the dining room, all eyes were on us. 

First came the introductions. My father tried to be intimidating. My uncle used his dumb intelligent humour to impress Logan. Neither of us found it funny. My aunt was too touchy. I wanted to step on her foot for that. My cousins didn’t give a shit. They were interested in their mobile games. 

“How long have you been together?” 

It was the first of many questions. Logan and I sat next to each other. My mother brought a plate for him. One of his hands found my thigh, squeezing it reassuringly. “It’s been over a year now,” he said, voice low and gruff. 

“Where did you meet?” my aunt asked. 

“At work,” I said quickly. “We work in the same building.” 

“Really?” My father didn’t believe that. “He doesn’t look like someone who would work in a big corporate company.”

“Dad!” I glared at him. 

No one knew what I was, what was my real job. I told them a story about my life in New York, working for a big company. For them, I was the daughter who moved to New York. I wasn’t the mutant, the whiny girl they used to call me. Of course, Logan knew it all.

My aunt eyed Logan once more. “They take you seriously with that hair?” she asked him. 

My eyes almost popped out of my head. I couldn’t believe she dared to say it. “Excuse me?” was all I got out of my mouth.

And it got worse. 

“We always believed our Y/N would move to Europe and live her life there. Empty promises how she’d become a writer, leave the country and live a better life,” my mother laughed. “We believed she would be the one to leave the county and do great things. And here we are.” 

“Still can’t believe she didn’t settle down. But what do you want from someone who’s not fond of kids? She always hated kids, so be prepared she wouldn’t want a family with you,” said my aunt. 

“She never went to college. She lied to us about applying, her interest in decusation.” 

“Always complaining and crying.” 

“She was a sensible child.”

“She suffered from depression and anxiety.”

Logan smashed a hand against the table. All the plates and cutlery rang. I closed my eyes, ready to release my last breath from all the humiliation. My family went rampage - saying shit that even they knew was not true. But here we were. 

“Everyone shut your goddamn mouths,” he snarled, slowly rising from the table. “She is your goddamn daughter and you’ve been treating her like shit the moment I sat behind this damn table. How the fuck do you think you make her feel?” 

“Language!” my aunt glared at him. “Children are present.”

“I don’t give a fuck about your two spoilt bastards,” Logan glared at her. “You can’t even make them put the damn tablets down while eating.”

“Who do you think you are?” my mother asked. She was offended by Logan’s behaviour. 

“I am the guy who needs to put you in your fucking place. You do not respect your daughter and you keep humiliating her in front of me. Instead of saying something nice, something positive, you’ve been running your mouth off with a lot of bullshit and I am sick of it.” 

Logan grabbed me by my arm and helped me get up. I barely listened to a word they all said. My mind was spiralling. I felt like the biggest loser, the black sheep of the family. Someone who shouldn’t be born.

“Don’t you fucking dare say one more word about her,” Logan spat at them. “Or I swear, I will make your lives miserable. She’s the most amazing woman in this godforsaken world. She means the world to me. She’s the definition of goodness, kindness and love. And fuck, I don’t deserve her. But I will defend her and show her how worthy of love she is because it seems you never loved her in the first place!” 

Silence. Everyone was glaring at Logan, shocked by the words he said. As if they all forget how to speak. 

“Y/N? How can you be with this rude man?” 

“Rude?” I raised a brow. “You’ve been rude to me the whole week I was here. Logan defended me when no one else did. Even I couldn’t stand up for myself and send you to hell and back! You are the rude here, not him.” 

“That’s not true,” my uncle chimed in.

I got up from the table. “I’m gonna go pack and we’ll be on our way.” 

“I’ll wait for you in the car,” said Logan, quickly pressing a kiss to my temple as I walked by him. 

The packing took me less than five minutes. I threw everything into my suitcase. I made sure I had my documents. The moment I got downstairs with my belongings, my mother was the first by my side. 

“You can’t be serious,” she said. 

“I am.”

“And with that man?”

I stopped and glared at her. My feelings were battling inside of me. I wanted to scream, shout nasty words and throw a tantrum like a child would. However, I would never do that. I hated conflicts. I hated this moment.

“Bye, Mother,” I said and left the house. 

Once I stepped out of the house I grew up in, I felt relief and grief. A chapter, that was supposed to end sooner, finally closed. It was not a happy ending, but it had to happen to move on. Without Logan’s help, I wouldn’t be able to do that. Thank god he came here so unexpectedly. He got my back.

Logan was leaning against the car, cigar in his mouth. When I approached him, he took my suitcase and put it inside the car. 

“Thanks,” I whispered. 

I ended up in his tight embrace. The cigar long forgotten. He had to put it off on his hand. “Come on, beautiful. Let’s get going.” 

“Take me home,” I said with a broken voice. 

“Home?” I knew he was smiling when he said that.

“Yes,” I nodded. “ Like you said - the X-mansion is my home. You are my home. Not this, not here.” 

Logan lifted my head by pressing a finger under my chin. Our eyes met. “I��m sorry they never treated you right. I’m sorry they saw you as something damaged, broken, now worthy of their time” He took a deep breath. “I’ll do everything to show you, that you are the best thing that ever happened to me. You…” Logan sighed. “You are the love of my life.” 

“Logan,” I gasped. We told each other many times the three beautiful words. This was something new, deep. It was an undiscovered territory that didn’t feel intimidating. 

His lips found mine in a simple kiss. I tasted the cigars and the coke he had during unfinished lunch. It was perfect. Like a definition of our relationship. “Let’s get you home, darlin’.” 

[boydepartment]

hiii r u taking requests! if so can you do enhypen reaction where you call them in danger and they get super panicked

pick up- enhypen texts + scenarios

a/n: HI ANON! i am always taking requests :) i hope you like it!!!!!!

warnings- dangerous scenarios, one reader gets followed, another one burns her hand, they aren’t dark at all tho :) nothing triggering

MASTERLIST

jungwon-

you had called jungwon a few minutes ago while walking home and you felt the presence of someone else. it was unusual for you to be walking home late from a study session and other students did too. however your intuition was raising red flags.

- “y/n are you okay? are you safe?” jungwon was panicking, you could hear it in his voice. you knew if he could he would drive over at this moment.

- “i’m okay. i just made it back to my abode. i’m just really shaken up i’m sorry for scaring you and calling you when you were working.”

- “baby please don’t ever apologize, you were scared and i’m glad you come to me for stuff like this.” you heard rustling on his end as you safely locked your door behind you. jungwon spoke up again, “i’m coming over with snacks and stuff. i’ll be there in 15.”

heeseung-

you were home alone for the first time in years and heard people yelling loudly outside. usually your friend would be home with you but they were off with their family which left you by yourself. during the day you didn’t mind but at night it was different. when you peeked out your window the people were fighting and it scared you. leading you to call heeseung.

- “i’m on my way right now. why didn’t you tell me you were home alone?” heeseung got right to the point when you answered his call.

- “i’m sorry i didn’t think that it was important and i didn’t want you to get in trouble if you came over and-“

- “i don’t care about that. are the people still outside?” heeseung was rushing you could tell.

- “no….”

- “okay i am still on the way. stay on the phone for me pretty.”

jay-

your hand was on fire, quite literally for a few seconds. and pick up the phone when jay called you back. which led him to rushing over to your home and using his key. immediately he rushed over to you and put your hand under the kitchen sink water. your burns weren’t horrible but they were pretty bad. jay swiftly picked you up and sat you down on the counter so he could wrap your hand.

- “i’m sorry i called when you were with your mom….” you mumbled into his shoulder. you were panicking and that alone made you exhausted.

- “i’m not mad at all baby i promise. is the bandage too tight?”

- you shook your head no and places small kisses on the side of his neck. you were too tired and overwhelmed to thank him. he knew and just swiftly carried you to your room.

jake-

the first mistake your made was even going to this party. it was a stupid idea and you got roped in. so when the cops showed up and you scaled a wall, breaking your nail, scraping your knees, and falling into a rose bush , you immediately called jake.

- “okay where are you right now?” jake asked, you could hear his pants, jogging to your location on the life 360. he asked you to get it so he could see how close or far you two were always.

- “i’m now sitting next to the rose bu-“

- “ah i see you!” you saw jake jog up to you and kneel, “hop on. i’ll piggy back you to my dorm and we will get you all cleaned up okay?”

sunghoon-

normally you don’t call sunghoon without asking first. it was just a thing you both did. so when you called he was immediately concerned.

- “baby can you hear me ? are you okay?” sunghoon frantically asked when you picked up.

- “i’m okay…. i just got scared because there was a loud noise in the library i’m sorry i panicked. you’re away again and i got paranoid without you.” you whispered into the phone. sunghoon tried not to softly smile, he missed you so much.

- “im here princess. talk to me tell me about your day. please.”

sunoo-

your day was terrible. the week prior you and sunoo got caught getting coffee at 4am, and your face was covered thankfully, however, engenes are still sometimes crazy so you were paranoid. when you went to get groceries today, you had a couple of them go up to you and ask about your keychain. which was in the photo. obviously you played dumb but it was still scary.

- “they asked about your keychain? why don’t you take it off now?” sunoo asked, you were putting groceries away now.

- “you got it for me when you went to italy. i don’t want to take it off it reminds me of you.” you said and reached the top shelf.

- sunoo smiled to himself, “i’ll get you a new one. i’ll get you as many as you want.”

riki-

you and riki had gone out to a themepark. no one knew except staff and the other members, you wanted a date and something nice to do since you both don’t get this a lot. the day was going great, and you both didn’t have a care in the world at the moment. at some point you both took bathroom breaks and were separated. as you waited by the men’s bathroom you decided to check your phone for the first time in hours. you saw tweets from a few seconds ago and they were of you, and riki. your eyes widened and you immediately went to a nook of the amusement park to call him. wanting to just hide away.

- “y/n where are you? you were supposed to be waiting for me outside of the bathroom? y/n what is going on?” he was looking for you frantically, if riki lost you at this park he didn’t know what he would do.

- “i’m between these two buildings and and-“ you were stuttering, you yelped when you felt someone pull you into their embrace, “please don’t hurt me!”

- riki looked down at you confused, “y/n it’s me? what happened?” you looked up at him blinking and showing your phone to him which had the screenshotted tweets.

- “fuck…”

[hazelfoureyes]

Hi there! I hope you’re doing well!

I was hoping to send a request. Do with it what you will…but I had the scenario in my head of reader going on dates and always wearing a lot of makeup. (Nothing against makeup)

Anyway, she and Alastor are friends, although Alastor always thinks the people reader dates are not worthy of her. After this particular date that was maybe a 2nd or 3rd date, she comes home in tears. While he’s comforting her he begins to tenderly wash her face. Eventually wiping off all the makeup and he simply says “There you are.”

I love the idea of Alastor believing that a woman doesn’t need makeup to be beautiful.

Thank you! ❤️❤️

I only began wearing make up like, last month, so I’m purely using info from watching the Welsh twins. personally I like to think Alastor would respect a person taking the effort to express themselves with make up, and also appreciate people who can feel no pressure to do so. There’s something very attractive about people who do things purely for their own enjoyment. Assuming it’s not like—- watching porn in the bus or killing snakes or stuff like that. Anyway what was I supposed to be doing aga-

Alastor x GN! Reader

「warnings/promises: not an ounce of smut, he may love you in any sense of the word, but he does love you dearly, Alastor knows how to remove make up because he likes to sneak up and scare Charlie when she’s getting ready for bed and has had many a product thrown at this head」

It was normally the mornings when he’d see you after your dates, and you’d spill the tea about the good and the bad. It was fun for him, drama was always best enjoyed from a distance.

There was no distance great enough that could make him miss you as you slunk into the hotel quietly, head down and turned away purposefully. Your arms were straight to your sides and balled into fists, back stiff as a board as you power walked through the lobby. How unlike you in every way.

He waited a beat until he was confident you’d made it to your room before following.

You considered not letting him in, but you knew he would come in if he really wanted to. Why pretend?

There was no point either in hiding your makeup streaked face. He clearly knew something was wrong, why else would he have come to your room.

“It went badly?” He asked somewhat rhetorically, closing the door behind him softly. “You know, I could always eat them. Avoid awkward run-ins downtown.”

A laugh, half hearted and more a glorified exhale than anything else.

Alastor came to your bed and offered you both hands. Setting yours in his, he guided you to the bathroom. Odd, a room you’d definitely not shared before, but you didn’t question it.

There was something deeply soothing about the way he moved around you as he led you around your own space. After lifting you onto the counter, he leaned past you to fiddle with something.

You smiled genuinely as you watched him rub your make up removing cleanser between his large hands. His palms were warm on your cheeks, tears both fresh and dried were mixed with the layers of setting spray, powder, cream, and lotion. Closing your eyes was the natural thing to do, but you couldn’t have kept them open if you had wanted to. Your brain was going fuzzy, clashing with the nauseous pain in your gut.

“As much as I adore the way you jazz up your temple, I’m quite fond of your natural features.” His voice seemed so close to you in the darkness. A hummed response was all you could muster.

The sound of running water, a few cabinets opening and closing, and then the soothing warmth of a hot and sopping face towel sliding down your cheeks.

“Another dud.” Alastor announced, the word ‘dud’ popped with an annoyed static. Even with your eyes shut, they stung with newly summoned tears. “The pain of realizing someone is not for you on a third date is much more tolerable than on the third year.” His large thumbs wiped away errant tears and liquified eyeshadow.

“Not to discount your pain!” You heard the facial cleanser lathering between his palms before he began to cover your face in gentle soap. “Just, well, I’d hate to see you cry too long over nothing and no one.”

A nod from you.

His careful fingers rubbed the suds into your skin gently, sharp nails barely grazing you. “I still don’t see how my idea was discounted so quickly!”

He could see your eyes roll behind your eyelids as you ground out, “Alastor I can’t make people be interviewed by an overlord to take me out.”

“I prefer the word interrogate.”

“I don’t!”

He tsk’d, wiping the soap away with wet hands and a damp cloth. “You sure are making your dating life all about you.” His hands left you and as your cheeks began to cool you opened your eyes.

Alastor was beaming down at you. You stayed still and let his finger follow the length of your nose that you cleverly reshaped with your skills,

his palms ran over the redness of your cheeks you calmed and covered before every outing,

his claws brushed over freckles reassuringly,

his eyes settled on your two tone lips,

and he purred happily at the sight,

“There you are.”

⋅˚₊‧ ଳ⋆Masterlist.ೃ࿔*:･

˖ ݁𖥔.Summoning the Horny Little Deer Cult.𖥔 ݁ ˖

@eris-norwega @reath-solia @catticora , @angelicribbons , @xalygatorx

@cxrsedwxrlds , @nonetheartist , @tsunaki , @janchei , @moonmark98

, @readergirlstuff , @berry-demon , @chirimeimei , @fairyv-ice , @olive-frog ,

@thonethatflies620 , @tiredkiwiii , @ilikemyteawithmilk , @whateverlololo , @psipies

@howabouticallyou , @roxxie-wolf , @fizzled-phoenix , @star-kujo-platinum

, @a-case-of-attachment, @multifandomfanatic02 @watereddownmilk , @bontensbabygirl @smoky000

@hoebihoeshi , @pansexual-opera-house , @polytheatrix , @lorddiabigmommymilkers , @backinthefkingbuildingagain

@harley2223-blog , @poinappel , @midnightnoiserose , @spookieroz , @missmidorima ,

@ivebeenthearchersstuff , @downbadforfictionalppl , @xx-all-purpose-nerd-xx , @sleepylittledemon , @aether-th3-enby

@dontfuckbutimfab @breathlessaura , @aperfectidiot , @certainlygay , @jth12

[yncoreee]

YOU’RE MY FIRST PRIORITY. Minji x reader

Synopsis— After being the cause behind the end of your trip with your friends, Minji couldn’t help but feel nothing but guilt. Being the loving girlfriend you are you had to reassure her that she was your first priority.

Warnings .ᐟ Requested, established relationship, pet names, sick minji, minji being guilty, crying, wrote this in 2nd person POV 💀, Female reader, FLUFF

꩜ — ⵌWord count 944

Before you could take a step into the bus that one of your friends already owned, you felt a vibration in your pocket followed by your ringtone.

Without wasting much time you pulled your phone out of your pocket and furrowed your eyebrows at the contact name.

You picked it up and held the phone close to your ear. “Hey bae what’s up?” You asked in a concerned tone at why she was suddenly calling you when it wasn’t even up to 10 mins after you left home.

She coughed loudly. “Sorry, ummm y/n… I’m sorry for disturbing you but can you come back home? I’m feeling a bit sick” she expressed.

You felt like she was lying at first but when you heard the tone of her voice and how tiredly she talked you couldn’t help but feel even more worried.

“I’m truly sorry for disturbing you, there’s no one to take care of me…and I can’t even move an inch” she added sluggishly.

“Alright, I’ll be there in five minutes”

As you hastily ended the call, you glanced over at your friends who looked at you with worried expressions.

“Y/n is everything okay?” One of them asked.

“Not really, something important pulled up but don’t worry you guys can go without me, I’ll probably go another time” you responded with a faint smile leaving the venue.

You made your way towards both you and Minji's shared apartment, opening the door with a spare key. You noticed minji curled up on the couch looking under the weather.

Kneeling in front of her you lightly traced your fingertips over her sweaty-damp bangs. And rested the back of your hand on her forehead quickly retreating it. “Oh My you’re burning”

You gently held the back of her head helping her to sit up and lean back against the pillow handing her a box of tissue as she gave it a little blow.

“Hold on, let me cook something for you” you stood up from your kneels making your way over to the kitchen.

In less than 15 minutes you had whipped up some Samgyetang for her.

You placed the steaming hot bowl in front of her sitting right beside her. You scooped up a big spoon of the steaming hot soup and motioned it towards Minji's mouth.

She slightly parted her lips as you slipped the spoon into her mouth. She gulped down letting the hot liquid flow down her throat.

You fed her until she was full, letting her lay her head on your laps as you ran your fingers through her hair.

She slept so peacefully but she didn’t know what was coming for her next.

“Why can’t you just take the medicine? Do you want to be sick forever?” You questioned motioning the medicine towards minji’s mouth.

“Nuh uh, it’s bitter and disgusting” Minji huffed, swaying her head away from the liquid. Burying her face into a pillow nearby.

“Babe come on, stop being so difficult, the taste is going to fade away before you even realize it. Now open your mouth and take this medicine” you spoke in a soft and gentle tone.

“Minji….”

“No”

“Please….” You pleaded.

She sighed. “Fine, I’ll take it” she replied with a sulky expression.

She parted her lips as you slipped the bitter liquid into her mouth. Gulping it down her throat, she looked at you with a disgusted look as she gagged dramatically causing you to playfully roll your eyes. “See it wasn’t so bad now was it” you teased.

“Yes it was”

You chuckled lightly but stopped when you heard a ding coming from your phone.

Your friends had sent you a picture of them enjoying their trip with the caption. “What you’re missing out on😜”.

You slightly pouted that you couldn’t be there right now, enjoying with them.

Minji noticed your sudden change in demeanor. Peeking over your shoulders to see what made you pout a bit.

She felt so guilty for being the cause of it.

Tears began to fall from her eyes down to her cheeks as she looked down at the floor.

You responded to your friends shutting your phone and looking back at minji. “So should we watch a—“ you cut yourself off as you noticed her looking down.

“Min is everything alright?” You asked softly, placing your finger below her chin, raising her head up. You felt more worried as you saw a tear stain on her cheek.

Minji sniffed and immediately wiped away her tears. “Yes but it’s just…. Your friends are probably having fun while your here and I’m the cause of it” she sniffed in between her words.

“No minji—“

“It’s all my fault and I’m a suck a burden, I’m sorry” she said,not breaking eye contact with the floor.

“Minji you’re not a burden, you were sick and there was no one to take care of you and you did the right thing. It was good I took care of you before the sickness would’ve gotten worse, and I can hang out anytime with my friends” you spoke, confronting her as you placed a soft kiss on her lips.

“Really? I’m not a burden?” She looked up at you and then laid her head on your lap.

“No you’re not, you’re my first priority”

“The hangout was at the beach and I can definitely go to the beach any time, I can even go with you” you added.

“You’re so sweet, I’m so lucky to have you as my girlfriend” she mumbled but it was audible.

You giggled lightly and planted another soft kiss on her forehead. “So am I”

[jgracie]

💭 DO YOU THINK I HAVE FORGOTTEN ABOUT YOU?

masterlist | rules

in which jason wakes up on a random bus with a random girl and the feeling of your hand in his

pairing jason grace x fem!reader

warnings none as far as im aware!

an my first piece of writing on here!!! very very excited :) i know this has probs been done SO much but i had to make it my first fic LOL feel free to give any feedback!

Jason would say he’s never experienced anything crazier than what he was going through at the moment, but he couldn’t recall anything from before he woke up on that bus - not even his own age, or his so-called ‘friends’, one of which was holding his hand right now. She was pretty, but something about it felt very wrong. She didn’t hold his hand like how he was used to, which was another strange thing. Out of all memories his brain could’ve retained, it chose the feeling of someone’s hand in his.

“Jason, you okay?” The girl asked, snapping him out of his thoughts. Nothing was okay, but Jason managed to keep his composure as best as he could. As the day progressed, he eventually figured out many things: his friends’ names (Piper and Leo), the fact that he’s a demigod (that one came to him naturally) and that there was a special extraction team looking for him and his friends. However, none of it was what he was looking for. While he enjoyed gathering more information about the puzzle pieces of his life, ever since Jason had opened his eyes on that bus, there’d been a specific memory that definitely wasn’t fully gone. He’d almost gotten it when he remembered the way someone’s thumb would gently stroke his hand as their fingers interlocked, but it wasn’t fully there yet, not until Piper asked him about the bracelet he hadn’t even noticed he was wearing. 

It was simple, just purple and white beads on a string with an initial that definitely wasn’t his dangling off of it, but Jason was surprised he hadn’t noticed earlier. As soon as he laid eyes on it, he knew it was one of his most prized possessions.

Without missing a beat, Jason said, “Oh, this? It was a gift from Y/N.” 

Ever since then, nothing was the same. All Jason could think about was her. Somehow, the bracelet had unlocked the vault of memories of them he didn’t even know he had. It didn’t matter if he slept in the cold, harsh atmosphere of Cabin One or on a random piece of ground during their quest, his dreams were always the same. Their first meeting, him helping her with her sparring, her laugh – Gods, her laugh! If that’s what it sounded like in his dream, he couldn’t even begin to fathom what it must be like in real life. All of these little moments slowly began coming back to him and when Jason found out that they’d all be going to Camp Jupiter, his home, he was buzzing with excitement. He’d begun journaling his experiences out of fear that he’d forget again, and he couldn’t wait to be able to tell you all about what he was up to.

Time flies by when you’re having fun. Soon enough, Leo was done with building the Argo II and the three, along with Annabeth, began heading for Camp Jupiter. That’s when the worries began consuming Jason’s mind. As far as he was aware, despite clearly sharing some romantic moments with you, you two never formally started dating before he got whisked away by Hera. It's been months since that happened, what if you found someone else? He wouldn’t have blamed you, he probably broke your heart. 

Surprisingly, it was Piper who comforted him. Piper, who’d been fed a fantasy and led on simply for the sake of some Goddess’ schemes. Piper, whose heart he definitely broke the moment he mentioned your name. 

“It’ll be fine, Jason,” she said, standing next to him as Camp Jupiter slowly began coming into view, “the worst is over. I’m sure Y/N will understand once we explain everything. She clearly loves you a lot, trust me.” 

For some reason, maybe her godly heritage working its magic, he did believe Piper. Although things had been awkward with her, she meant a lot to him, and he’d felt really bad during the conversation they had after their first quest together, so he was glad she wasn’t secretly mad at him. Turning away from her, Jason now gazed upon the shapes of his home with a newfound confidence.

And then he saw you. Whatever his brain managed to come up with in his dreams paled in comparison to the real thing. You seemed to glow and glimmer and shine and all those wonderful things as you walked towards the Argo II with Reyna. While Percy and Annabeth had their heartfelt (albeit strange) reunion, you shared your own. 

“Jase!” You said, running to him. Immediately, he picked you up and spun you around. He knew he was probably getting really strange looks from his fellow Romans, but he didn’t care. This wasn’t about them.

Putting you down, Jason wiped a stray tear from your cheek as you began to speak, your voice shaky with nerves, “thank the Gods you’re back! I was so worried when Percy came here and didn’t remember anything, I prayed day and night to anyone who’d listen to bring you home to me with your memories intact. I don’t know what I would’ve done if…” You faltered, unable to even utter the words out of fear they may come true. 

Luckily, Jason had many words for you, starting with these: “do you seriously think I’d forget about you?”

[luvhughes43]

is it too much to ask | quinn hughes x reader

luvhughes43 masterlist🌙

summary: missing q when he's on the road! based off the song, "is it too much to ask" by faye webster.

word count: 1.2k

I’ve been waiting for so long

Waiting for you

Maybe you’ll give up and come home

I just want you

you felt a little childish counting down the days till your boyfriend would be back from his roadie. but really, who could blame you? It seemed that recently, with the canucks winning streak and Quinn's captaincy, you’ve seen less and less of your loving boyfriend. 

“Quinn!” you smiled at your grinning boyfriend once the facetime call connected. “What are you doing?”

“Just getting ready to get down to the rink” he replied, throwing his tie over one of his shoulders and using his other hand to pull it around his neck.

Quinn adjusted his tie, and you watch on in silence as he gets himself dressed. his belt comes next, and you stare as he stepped back and adjusted the long piece of leather to his body.

“you’re being quiet,” Quinn mumbled, still too caught up with what he was doing to glance back at his phone. 

you hummed softly. “just admiring you”

Quinn laughed, that carefree ringing sound that reminds you of those endless summer days on the lake. “you’re cute”

when Quinn finally looked up at you, you felt as if you’ve been caught doing something inappropriate. heat nips at your cheeks, and you look away to the stove to distract yourself from his gaze. 

“you look really pretty today,” Quinn continued, missing the redness of your cheeks.

you looked back towards your phone and you can’t help but smile at your boyfriend. “you look really hot! I can't wait to see the HD photos,” you joked. after the walk in photos were posted to the canucks twitter, you would send them to Quinn and comment on how attractive he looked. Quinn liked that a lot. 

Quinn chuckled before leaning forward and clicking on his phone to check the time. he deflated upon seeing the little numbers on his screen, letting you know that your short call would have to end soon. 

“i’ve gotta get down to the bus,” he sighed, leaning back in his chair as his eyes scanned his messy hotel room.

“okay, well good luck! I’ll see you later?” 

Quinn hummed as he stood up from his hotel chair. he held the phone in a low angle and blew a kiss to you through the screen. “Yup, i'll text or call after the game” Quinn said, moving around his room and throwing various things around in an attempt to find something. 

“Your airpods are right there,” you hear Elias mumble in the background. 

Quinn moves again, and without a second thought turns to you before uttering a quick, “love you!” 

“I love you too!” you respond, and then the call abruptly fades into black. 

after the call ended, you trudge over to your and Quinns couch and switch the tv on so you were prepared for when his game started. 

you sit around and wait for the game to start, wishing for nothing more than to spend some time with your boyfriend. you knew captaincy was going to include a lot more responsibilities, but the distance combined with the extra hours at the rink… you just wanted your boyfriend back at home. whenever those thoughts of wanting Quinn to quit and come home to you flooded your mind, guilt would wash over you. hockey was his dream, and in a dream world you would be able to spend a little bit more time together.

All these letters that you wrote

They remind me

You’re not far when you leave home

That’s the best part

as usual, after the game Quinn sent you messages and little voice notes telling you all sorts of things. 

Quinn (voicenote) okay, so basically I was handling the puck, I don't know if you watched this part? But like anyway i’m lining up the shot-

a lot of the time it was Quinns narrations of the game he just played. you would lay in bed and listen to his warm voice explain all the intricacies of his and his teammates plays despite having witnessed it all go down on your screen.

when the voice notes end and you find yourself staring at your dark ceiling, you’d move onto reading the messages he’d send you throughout the day. 

Quinn: The sunset reminds me of you

Quinn sent one image

Quinn: I love you! Sleep well❤️

Quinn: i’ll call you in the morning

Then you’d scroll through old text messages. Brief declarations of love, lots of missing yous, and tens of pictures taken of mundane things that litter both of your everyday lives. 

Is it too much to ask you to never let me go?

Is it too much to ask you to hold me even close?

Is it too much to ask you to never let me go?

Is it too much to ask?

“you're back!” you squeal the next morning, lifting yourself up off the couch and into Quinn's awaiting arms. you snuggle in close, choosing to rest your head in the crook of his neck. you can feel Quinn's wide grin against the side of your neck and you giggle when you feel his lips tickling open mouth kisses all along your skin. 

“we got in earlier than expected,” Quinn replied, lips still hovered over your skin. 

you hummed, “well send my compliments to the pilots”

Quinn kissed your shoulder again, before pulling you into a tight hug. “I missed you,” he sighed. 

“I missed you more,” you replied easily, thinking back to all your late nights spent watching the latest of Quinns interviews. in all honestly, you were practically a twitter stan when it came to your boyfriend. 

“Bath?” 

You nod, “i’ll start running the water” 

five minutes later you sit on the edge of the tub, hand dipped into the scorching water as you listen to the sweet sounds of Quinn trudging and stomping through the apartment. he had never quite learnt how to walk quietly, but you couldn’t say you minded how loud his presence was. 

It’s the road that takes you away

That's the worst part

‘Cause once it takes you, makes you stay

There's no way out

you knew that this was just one of many days off, and that in two week’s time he would be gone again. you’d lay alone in bed, replaying voice memos and rereading texts as you usually do. 

“what are you thinking so hard about?” Quinns soft voice makes you smile. you shift from your place in bed, looping one of your legs over Quinns and pulling yourself closer to him. 

“just you,” 

Quinn nodded. “atta girl” he teases, lacing his fingers through yours. 

you detach your hand from Quinns and rest your palm against his cheek. you brush at his hair, and you let your hand wander down his face as you start tracing circles onto his jawline. 

“i love you,” quinn sighed. his eyes are closed now, fully enjoying your light massages and all of your attention. 

“i love you,” you whispered back, placing a soft kiss on his lips. 

Is it too much to ask you to never let me go?

Is it too much to ask you to hold me even close?

Is it too much to ask you?

Is it too much to ask you?

Is it too much to ask you to never let me go?

Is it too much to ask?

that night, laying in bed wrapped up with Quinn made you realize once again that it was all worth it. even though you desperately wanted to spend all your time with your person, reunions like this were always worth it. 

for the next few weeks you’d bask in the light of his company, and then you’d repeat the process a hundred times over. because in the end, he was worth it every time.

[asterias-record-shop]

Okay, but Stiles finally spoiling you with a date night after weeks of working himself to the bone on his current FBI case 😭❤️👏🏻 Maybe he gets a call in the middle of the date with someone trying to interrupt (unintentionally), but tonight is all about you?

no because this is so cute!! probably going to make a pt 2 :) also, Dylan O’Brien as Thomas?? omfg

—𓆩[honey, honey]𓆪—

𓆩[main masterlist]𓆪 𓆩[request/ask me something!]𓆪

𓆩♡𓆪 CHARACTER - FBI Agent! Stiles Stilinski x Fem! Fiancée! Reader

𓆩♡𓆪 TYPE - fluff

𓆩♡𓆪 WORD COUNT - 1.3K

𓆩♡𓆪 SUMMARY - It’s been a long fucking week, and Stiles has finally caught a break to spend time with you… until he gets a call right in the middle about the case he’s working on, but tonight is about you and nothing is going to change that.

𓆩♡𓆪 STORY WARNINGS - totally made you a spoiled princess in this, Stiles loves you too much to say no || FBI office based off of the BAU from Criminal Minds and like a little crossover || cursing I think? ||

“How’s the case coming along, Stilinski?” Agent Morrison asks, a sigh coming from Stiles’ mouth as he stares down at the stack of files on his desk.

He grins up at the man. “Absolutely delightful, Agent Morrison.”

“Oh yeah?” He laughs, looking down at his watch. “Gonna tell the missus you’re going to be home late?”

Stiles looks at the wedding band he didn’t stop playing with, sighing. “No, I’m going to go home early, actually. It’s date night.”

Agent Morrison laughs. “Date night! Date nights are good, don’t stop having those,” he looks down at his ring, sighing. “Makes the spark dim.”

Stiles sits there awkwardly for a minute. “Not too late to start them up again?”

Agent Morrison nods slightly. “You’re right. Well, your new partner is supposed to be coming in any minute, he was supposed to be here-”

“I’m here! I’m here!” A voice yells, quickly running in as they panted. “I’m here, I missed the bus.”

Stiles stares for a minute, jaw slack. “Dude, are you okay?”

“Yes! Yes I’m fine!” He walked forward. “I’m Dr. Spencer Reid, I work with the BAU at Quantico, I’m here for Mieczyslaw-”

“Stiles,” the said man stands quickly, shaking his head. “Everyone calls me Stiles.”

Reid paused. “Stiles… Stiles Stilinski?”

“That’s what I said,” Agent Morrison stands, sighing. “Well, you both have fun. If you need anything, don’t call me.”

“We will call you as soon as we have a problem, Morrison!” Stiles yells as Morrison goes up the stairs.

“Don’t do that!”

“I’m positive I will, Morrison!”

“You do that, I’ll kill you!”

“Calling you right now sir!” Stiles smiles when he hears the door slam shut, another man stepping into the office. “That your bodyguard?”

Reid looks back and he shakes his head. “Oh no, that’s Morgan! Derek Morgan.”

Stiles hums, waiting for the other man to come to his substitute desk while he waits for everyone to clean his office.

The taller man walks over, a bright smile on his face. “You must be M-”

“Stiles!” Morrison yells out, opening his door. “Your offices are clean and Y/N is here!”

His brows furrow, it wasn’t that late was it? He opened the drawer with his phone, it was only 2:30 and he wasn’t supposed to get off until at least 5:00. “Uhm, I’m sorry, give me one second.”

When his phone rings again, he quickly answers it. “Hey honey-”

“I brought you lunch.”

He looks up, smiling when he sees you holding up a bag of food making him hang up, quickly excusing himself from his new partners. He jogs over to you, smiles wide as he leaned down to press a soft kiss to your head. “Hey.”

You giggled, handing him the bag. “Hey. Made some of your favorite, just thought I’d bring it by.”

He nods, wrapping his arms around your waist to pull you in for a soft kiss. “You’re fucking amazing, honey.”

“I know,” you laughed as you pressed another kiss to his lips. “I’ll see you later?”

He basically pouts. “You can’t stay a bit longer?”

You shake your head, softly brushing your hand against his cheek. “Last time I stayed we fucked in your office.”

He grins mischievously. “Well my office is almost clean-”

“Behave, Stiles!” Two voices say, both yours and Morrison’s whose door was now open.

“Yeah, okay!” He yelled back, looking down at you. “He won’t know.”

You laughed, shaking your head. “No, I still have to get back home and finish making our food for tonight.”

He really does pout this time. “You’re no fun.”

You hum. “I’ll remember that, Stilinski.” He groans dramatically before you press a soft kiss to his lips. “I love you. See you later.”

He nods, smiling. “I love you too.”

It doesn’t take long for Stiles to get off, giving his number to his new partners before making his way home where you already made dinner, and for fucks sake it was delicious.

You both settled on the couch, a movie you both really weren’t paying attention to as you sat on Stiles’ lap, his hands on your hips as you leaned back into him.

He laughs as he holds your chin, pulling you back just enough for a soft kiss. “You know, I was thinking-”

“Oh well that doesn’t sound good,” you teased, making him roll his eyes playfully. “What about?”

He shrugs, leaning into the crook of your neck. “Just… you know, I get my bonus soon.”

“Right,” you say, looking back just enough to look at his eyes. “What’s up?”

“We should take a trip, or something,” he says, shrugging. “I have some paid time off, you work for yourself… what do you think?”

You smiled widely, nodding. “I think that sounds fucking amazing.”

He smiled, pressing a soft kiss to your lips again. “Perfect. And how’s our wedding coming along?”

Stiles left you in charge of pretty much everything, all he was doing was paying for it.

“Oh, good! I’m going dress shopping soon,” you say with a wide smile. “I’m super excited. Have a feeling this one will be great.”

You both had been engaged for a while, but you both wanted everything to be perfect before actually tying the knot, and Stiles wasn’t going to let you walk down the aisle in a dress you didn’t love.

He smiled, his hands sneaking around your waist as he kissed the back of your neck. “I know it will be, love. You liked that dress we saw in Mexico, right? You want to go dress shopping there?”

You gasp, quickly turning around in his lap. “You’d do that?”

He laughs. “Well, of course I will. But we need to bring an extra suitcase to make sure it fits.”

You pull him in for a firm kiss, humming. “You’re fucking amazing.”

He smiles before his phone starts to ring, pulling you closer before you finally pull away. “What if it’s important?”

He shook his head, pulling you back down. “Nothings more important than you.”

He pulled you back down for another kiss, your hands pushing into the back of his shirt before his phone continued to ring. You pulled away, sighing as you grabbed his phone and handed it to him. “Don't worry, I’ll be okay for the five minutes it takes you to talk to them.”

He rolled his eyes playfully. “What if I’m not?”

You answer the phone, making him straighten. “This is Stilinski.”

“Hi Agent Stilinski, this is Dr. Spencer Reid, we met today, I’m your new partner along with Derek Morgan, but he isn’t here right now…” Reid continues to mutter, making Stiles raise a brow.

“Dr. Reid, is there a… point to this call?”

“Oh, yes! Sorry, I was wondering if you were busy right now? I found something big.”

He looks at you, your slightly sad smile as you pressed a soft kiss to his temple. “We can finish the movie later.”

“Y/N, honey-” he sighs as you go into the kitchen, rubbing the center of his forehead. “I’m sorry, Dr. Reid, do you mind if we talk about it tomorrow? I’m with my fiancée right now.”

Reid exclaims. “Oh, right! Sorry, talk to you tomorrow bye!” Reid hangs up quickly, Stiles smiling as he goes into the kitchen.

He comes behind you, arms wrapping around your waist and kissing against your temple. “Moved plans to tomorrow. We got all night, honey.”

You giggled, turning around. “I already looked at tickets to Mexico. What week are we thinking?”

“Any week you want, darling. This week is all about you.”

Taglist: 𓆩[@lem0ns77]𓆪 𓆩[@cecepop15]𓆪 𓆩[@memeorydotcom]𓆪 𓆩[@your-favorite-god]𓆪

© asterias-record-shop

[bitchinbarzal]

Red, White & Blue | M Barzal

part three of blue, white & orange

-

Mat was miserable and it showed. It fed over into practices and his on ice performance.

The islanders bailed out in the second round, no thanks to Mat’s horrible playing.

He spent the off season at home, not his usual extravagant plans with you by his side. He only flew back to BC for a few weeks before he got home and back to work. He needed to get his mind off you.

You’d blocked him and seemingly moved as he dropped by your apartment only to meet a nice Swedish man named Jakob living there now.

Your jacket and jersey still hung over his dining room chair where he dropped them that night he got home. The jersey was still dirty from the floor and the jacket still smelled of her perfume.

When the season rolled back around in August Mat was all eyes forward. He still hadn’t heard from you and he was slowly but surely getting better.

The season opener was in Madison Square Garden, facing off against the rangers. He wasn’t worried, he just wanted the game to be done with. This team brought him nothing but horrible memories and feelings.

The game started strong, the islanders were on a positive beginning. They were leading by three going into the third. Mat was confident.

That was until he saw you on the jumbotron.

His breath caught in his throat when he saw your face, the smile he missed and loved so much. You were sat there wearing the thing that started all of this, that stupid jersey. The red, white and blue made Mat feel sick.

That threw him off. They lost. He just wanted to go home.

While heading back to the bus he heard someone shouting his name, turning to see Alexis calling for him.

He scowled “What do you want?”

Alexis rolled his eyes “Don’t forget she was my fiancé first… anyway, here” he thrusts a post it note into Mat’s hand

“What’s this?”

“That’s her new address” he explains and notices Mat’s confused expression “She still loves you Mat and all I ever wanted was for her to be happy if it was with me or you”

Mat took the post it with a shaky hand a soft smile “Thanks man…”

He gripped it tightly on the way back to UBS. Staring at it, as if trying to memorise it.

When he got back to his car it was the first thing he did, punch that address into his GPS.

When he arrived he sat in his car staring at the window of the apartment he had figured out was yours. It took him an hour before he finally had the nerve to go into the building and knock on your door.

He heard you call out “coming!” Before opening the door. You looked shocked to see him, suddenly aware of what you were wearing.

The blue burned Mat’s eyes. He wishes he could rip It off but he knew better.

“Mat-“

“I love you. I love you in this jersey, in my jersey - I mostly prefer you without anything to be honest!” He rambled, his hands flapping around

“You gave her my jacket” you mumble, curling back into yourself.

He shakes his head, scrunching his eyes closed “I- I didn’t give her it! Please just- she took it! She was cold and I turned my back for like a second. I had the jacket because I was coming to find you, to make up for what was happening between us”

You bit your lip “How do I know that?”

He shrugs “I can’t make you trust me but you know how much I love you, that’s never been in question. We fought, we were each jealous because we love each other so much so please don’t stay away from me any longer I can’t take it”

Your bottom lip quivered “How do you know we’re not bad for each other Mat?”

“Even if we are… I’m willing to take the risk”

You let out a shaky breath “Come here”

He immediately steps into the apartment and kisses you, both of you stumbling back a few steps. You feel him lifting up your jersey to reveal nothing underneath

“Mat!”

“I lied, I don’t love you in this jersey please get it off”

[starysky1289]

Alpha!Vanessa X Omega!Reader. Walking home.

This is my first time writing omegaverse, I hope it’s alright <:

Also shout out @707bot1 happy birthday man I hope u enjoy this.

The rain fell heavy on your umbrella, making it harder for you to trudge down the street. You didn’t have a ride home sense your S/O has dropped you. They was a delta, although they had the ego of an alpha times ten. You weren’t good enough for them, they’d yell at you, not obedient enough, not good enough for you to be called there’s.

It didn’t help you were stuck in a heat, nothing you did could even suppress it. You didn’t have the money for the suppression tablets that you used to take, your job was going through a crash and you were suffering from it. You were practically bait just waiting to be taken by an Alpha.

The whine of a police siren stopped you, looking over you watched the black and white car pull besides you. You stepped towards it hesitantly, and the window opened. Your nose filled with the scent of alpha, almost sickly sweet and heavy with sweat. You were expecting a big guy, but instead it was a petite blonde, who gave you a soft smile, waving towards you.

“ hey, what’s got you walking out here all alone? It’s a stormy mess. “

“…I missed the bus, I’ll be fine. “

“ you scared of the scent? I ain’t gonna do nothing to you dear, I’m an officer. Can I give you a ride, I’d hate to see you out here any longer.”

You were hesitant to answer. She was clearly official, the badge, the gun, the car obviously. But you were still weary. Her blue eyes shown with only kindness, it wouldn’t hurt, and you were a while from home.

“ alright maam…thank you officer…”

She unlocked the door, and you quickly got in, closing your umbrella and keeping it between your feet.

“ just call me Vanessa. What’s you name hun. “

“ Y/N. “

“ well Y/N, Where’s your home, I’m sure someone’s worried about ya. “

“ 146 WestWood avenue, I live in the apartment building there….and no..no one’s waiting for me. Not anymore atleast…“

Vanessa pulled back onto the road, she clicked her tounge, adjusting her radio on her hip and glancing over at you.

“ awfully sorry to hear that dear. You wanna talk about it..? “

She obviously wasn’t trying to get in Your legs, maybe she just hadn’t noticed your heat yet. You where ways told how tough and intimidating alphas where, but she was sweet, gentle, the complete opposite of what you where taught to respect.

“ my former spouse…they where a delta..said I wasn’t good enough for them..I wasn’t obedient enough. So they left me for some skimpy little omega. It’s why I was walking home…I don’t have a car, and any money I get right now is going towards bills “

“ oh dear. How awful is that…some people just don’t know how to treat a girl these days. Always expecting there omega to be perfect little things for them. Shame you’ve never had a real alpha..treat you good is what they’d do. “

You blushed, gripping you pants. Was that, attraction? Nonsense, she was just beings nice, she wouldn’t make a move on you that fast would she?

“ h-hehe…s-shame I might never know…”

“ nonsense…”

As she pulled up to the stop light, she turned to you, holding you chin. Your heat in you made you want to lunge into her and make out with her right here, but you were self trained enough to know better.

“ you just need to find the right one~ “

You never had this feeling,even from your ex spouse. Vanessa chuckled, and turned back to the road. You were confused, but warm, was this attraction? It couldn’t be, why would you be.

Vanessa pulled up to your apartment building, it was anything pretty. A worn down old building with rotting architecture. You gripped your umbrella as you slowly got out of the car, looking back at Vanessa.

“ you sure you good sweetheart? “

“ y-yeah…I’ll be ok..thank you officer. “

“ what’d I tell ya, you can just call me me Vanessa. I’m of shift anyway. Have a good night “

“ yes…well..I have some homemade soup cooking right now…would you wanna join me..? “

Vanessa smiled, hoping out of the car and locking it. She waked up to you and help your hand that was holding your umbrella.

“ I thought you’d never ask. “

*~*

You both had an Italian wedding soup with garlic bread for dinner, followed by a gentle conversation about eachother over wine. Something about her made you melt, it could just be the police uniform she was still in, maybe it was just how her eyes looked like little pools of water, or maybe it was just because this heat was so bad you’d take anything you could get.

“ so, Y/n. Have you got a nest built? “

“ Huh-?? “

“ well, that heat seems like it’s not going away anytime soon. I atleast hope you have somewhere comfy your curling up. “

Your face grew red at the question, she knew about the heat, you were stupid to think she didn’t. You gripped your pants and glanced off.

“ my beds all made up..pushed against the wall so I can curl up in it…”

“ good.”

“ why do you ask, Vanessa…”

Vanessa swirled her wine, before throwing back the last bit. Her eyes glanced across the room, before back at you, smiling softly.

“ just curious. if you needed some help finishing it I wouldn’t mind at all. “

“ o-oh uhm…I..I did get this big new comforter I can’t seem to..get over my bed..would you wanna help with that~? “

You both stood up, looking up at her with your big doe eyes.

“ I wouldn’t love anything more beautiful~ “

This was wrong. A random girl, a random alpha in your home, and now you were leading her to your nest, your little spot in this world. Your bedroom was the nicest room in the apartment, your bed all covered in multiple blankets and pillows to keep you comfy. You grabbed the new comforter, opening it from its packaging. Vanessa was silent behind you, before you felt her big hands grab your waist. You didn’t pull away, letting her feel up and down your delicate waist.

“ that feel good baby? “

“ mhm…such a strong grip on me…”

She pushed her head onto your shoulder, grinding on you gently.

“ well, I can’t let you get away now. You let me into your nest…”

“ and maybe i don’t want you to go away Vanessa~ “

You gridded back against her, whimpering softly. You could feel her bulge forming from under her tight uniform. She helped you throw the comforter over the nest before humping your ass.

“ you see what you do to me princess~? Fuck…I’m gonna have to fill you with my pups now~ “

“ o-officer~….”

You turned around, and she pulled you into a deep kiss, her lips practically eating your mouth. You held onto her waist, fiddling with her belt.

“ V-Vanessa….”

“ shh…poor little mutt…all pent up with that poor heat…let me take care of it…”

Vanessa slipped her fingers around your waistband, quickly pulling them down. You wore a pair of panties that were soaked through, slick coating your folds and upper thighs.

“ look at you…all this for me baby~? “

“ y-yeah….i-i cant help it…”

“ yeah? All dirty for me baby? “

Vanessa quietly unbuckled her belt, stripping off her pants to be let with a pair of navy blue boxer briefs on. Her bulge was big through it, and the tip just poked out the top.

“ big isn’t it baby? Bigger than that ex of yours? “

“ yes Vanessa…m-much..much bigger…”

She finally dropped her boxers, letting the full thing throb against your ass. It had to off been at least 9 inches, and it was thick. You could see the knot beginning to form at its base.

“ you gonna take this baby? Gonna let me stuff you good…? “

You let yourself fall backwards into the bed, keeping your legs spread open for her to gawk at.

“ I-I’m all your Vanessa. P-please officer…m-mate me…”

Vanessa let out a low growl, pinning you down in the bed. Her breath was warm against your neck, and she kissed down your face, leaving small bites on your cheeks and earlobes. She stripped your panties off and tossed them to the side, grinding against your soft folds.

“ s-stop teasing…please just fuck m-me…”

“ your little delta may of used you up quickly…but i…I savor my meal…what i do to you..”

You whined as she continued to thrust against your folds, before letting it finally slip in. You moaned out in a pleasured relief, your head going back against the soft blankets.

“ s-so…so tight..fuck..”

Vanessa got to a steady pace, holding you down tighter every time you squirmed from its size. Your moans would grow louder every time she’d thrust in deeper, panting into your chest. She stripped off your shirt and bra, gawking down at your tits.

“ V-Vanessa…nessa please it’s s-so big!! S’to big!! “

“ Quiet baby…I-I’m having fun here…Ima…Ima make you feel good soon gorgeous…”

She bent down and burried her face between your tits, thrusting in harder. Her dick was practically ripping you in half, making sure that your hole would only take her. You’d cry out, and she’d shut you up by thrusting in deeper, making you want to whine and moan louder.

“ who’s pretty pussy is this huh? Who’s it belong too y/n. “

“ Y-you!! I-it belongs to you Vanessa!! “

“ absolutely it does..f-fuck feels..feels s’good….”

With a quick movement, Vanessa grabbed your arms and held them above your head, leaning down into your neck. You were about to complain, before feeling her night down on your neck. And she bit hard. She was marking you, marking you as hers and hers only.

“ V-Vanessa!! “

She only groaned in response, throwing herself back and picking you up, sitting you ontop of her cock. She held your hips and thrusted into you deeper.

“ F-fuck!! N-nessy its t-to much!! I-I’m gonna cum! P-please please I-i can’t!! “

“ My…my girl…m-mine…my pretty girl…f-fuck..take it..take every last drop I give you “

And with that she slammed into you, you practically screamed out in a mix of pleasure and pain. You felt her knot locked in you, and you struggled to regain your breath. You felt her cum filling you, and you could only lay into her as you could feel yourself cumming with her.

“ A-h…ah…v-va…Vanessa…”

“ shh..so good y/n…so good…gentle, get some sleep…I’ll hold you..”

You didn’t argue, you held her tightly and met your eyes close, kissing her nose gently.

“ I l-love you vaness….”

“ i love you too y/n…”

*~*

You woke up surrounded by the comfort of your nest, but your legs twitched with pain. Vanessa must of got loose in the middle of the night, and gone home. You groaned, trying to cling to her scent, before hearing a knock on the door, Vanessa slowly made her way in.

“ I’m so sorry I was gone y/n. I ran to the bathroom. Do you need anything? Money, water, food? Let me look at your mark real quick too. “

Vanessa was quick to tend to whatever you needed. She delicately looked at the mark on your neck, before giving it a gentle kiss.

“ d-does this mean I’m your m-mate now nessy…? “

“ only if you want. But let me take you to dinner first, then you can choose. I’m sorry about it..I was stuck in the moment, and I just need you closer…so my instincts took over and I..marked you…I’m sorry hun..”

You kissed her gently, holding her hands and laying on her.

“ you did nothing wrong…w-will you make me breakfast..? “

“ of course hun. You stay here, soak up my scent. I love you y/n. “

“ I love you t-to Vanessa…”

Vanessa chuckled, slowly getting up and heading out of the room. You nuzzled into the pillows and sniffed each one. Her scent was everywhere, the sickly sweet scent mixed with sweat. But you could also smell fresh cucumber, mandarin, and eucalyptus. You smiled, hugging a pillow tightly and you began to drift off again.

You finally had the alpha you were always told you’d have. But yours was different, she was tought, but gentle. She was possesive, but kind and loving. And you wouldn’t have your Vanessa any other way.

[carolmunson]

how to train your wyvern

sadist!eddie x f!masochist!reader desc: when bratting becomes intentional disrespect, eddie has to go to new measures to make sure you stay in line.

cw: minors dni, smut, d/s dyanmics, spanking, slapping, spanking (with hands/with implements), degradation, humiliation, mean names, pet names, pet play (but not the mainstay of the fic), references to other women, emotional sadism, physical sadism, p in a (f receiving), fingering (f receving), oral (m receiving), mmf threesome, spitroasting, facials, rice kneeling, mouth soaping

He could take it to some extent, a little smart remark, a mean joke here and there. A sarcastic reply to a question with an obvious answer. That was fine, nothing a little stern look couldn’t quell. But every now and again there would be nothing he could do and it would drive him fucking insane.

You’d been bratting for days, and nothing — nothing, was working. 

It started last week and some change ago when you decided to invite yourself over after his mid-day shift at the garage. He was exhausted, but he still had to fix a pipe under the bathroom sink that hadn’t stopped dripping – and also repair the cabinet door that he slammed off the hinges when he was annoyed about the broken pipe. 

Normally, having you around after a stressful shift was nice for him. You’d fawn over him, make him dinner, get him a drink, rub his shoulders – suck him off, if he asked. This night was different, you clambered into the trailer and snapped the door behind you, cheeks bitten by the cold and snow in your hair.

“What’s your problem?” he asked softly from the kitchen, cracking a beer open and quickly catching the foam off the top of the can. 

“You forgot to pick me up on your way home,” you huff, “I had to take the bus and then walk.” 

His eyes widened, suddenly remembering that your car was in the shop. He wasn’t working on it, so it slipped his mind, “Oh honey, I’m sorry – I didn’t mean to forget. Sal’s working on your car so y’know it just – out of sight, out of mind.” 

He puts the beer on the table and takes your coat from you, pressing a kiss to your forehead. His warm lips sooth your snow soaked face, but the frustration still remains. 

“Why didn’t you just call?” he asks, seeing the furrow on your brow still stuck in place, “I would’ve come to pick you up.”

“I shouldn’t have to remind you,” you grumble, “You’re such an airhead sometimes.” 

“Hey,” his voice isn’t gruff or mad, more hurt than anything, “It was an accident, you don’t have to say shit like that.” 

You take a breath, pushing it out of your lips, mulling over whether the insult was worth it, “Sorry, that was mean. I’m just cold and annoyed.” 

His lips press against your cold cheek this time, “It’s okay. Um, get yourself cozy – I gotta fix the sink in the bathroom.” 

Your face falls, “Oh.” 

His face falls too, “What’s wrong?” 

“I just – I came all the way over here and we’re not even gonna hang out,” you frown. 

“It won’t take me that long, baby. I just have to fix the sink and the cabinet and then I’m done,” he explains while you kick your shoes off. Your eyes roll dramatically when he mentions the cabinet. 

“So first it’s just the sink, then it’s the sink and cabinet. You’ll finish those and go ‘Oh let me work on the leak in the shower, let me WD40 the door’, you always do that. You start a project and then start fifty of them and I just sit here,” you huff. 

He juts his lower lip out in a teasing frown, “Aw, so sorry I wanna make the place habitable, honey.”

When you don’t crack a smile his shoulders fall, “I promise I won’t be long. You can even sit in there with me while I work on it if you want.” 

“You hate when I do that. When I hover,” you say. Eddie smiles, pressing kisses to your cheeks while he pulls you in to hold you close to him. 

“So it must mean I missed you all day today if I want you to hover when I fix the sink, huh?” he jokes. You relent, giving into his kisses, and his warm chest, and the caress of the tendrils of hair falling out of the low bun on his head onto your nose. 

It’s not long before you're sitting on the shut toilet seat and he’s half concealed in the cabinet, t-shirt riding up while he lies on his back. You’re not focusing on what he’s telling you, something about his day or a customer. Something about Dustin and the new one shot they were putting together next week. All you were focused on was the sliver of his belly peeking out of his shirt, begging to be touched. Begging to be squeezed. You slowly get to your knees and sink onto the fuzzy dark green bath mat by his hips, reaching out slowly to graze your fingers over his happy trail. 

“Jesus!” he shouts, body jumping, a loud CLANG! sounding as a result of him dropping whatever tool and part he had in his hands. 

You laugh, “Oh no, I’m sorry! I’m sorry!” 

He shimmies out of the cabinet with a small red cut gleaming on his forehead, “Babe you can’t do that while I’m working. That’s so dangerous.” 

“I got bored, you were looking so cute. How could I resist?” you ask, “Let me look at your head, I’m sorry.” 

You peer at the little cut, it’ll definitely heal in the next day or so, but it’s enough that he’s wincing when you go near it. 

“Don’t be such a baby,” you tut, pressing a kiss just next to it, “Is that better?” 

“Yeah, it’s better,” he smiles, “But please, I’m barely balancing this tubing in my hands – no distractions please.” 

“Fine,” you say sweetly while he lays back under the cabinet. You wait a moment before your hand reaches out again to drag your finger over a clothed rib. 

His body tenses, “I’m not kidding, baby.” 

“I’m sorry,” you laugh, “I’m just fucking with you, I promise. You’re just so cute when you’re mad.” 

You let him continue, back to his original one sided conversation where he starts explaining the Wyvern appearing in the campaign and all the differences between a dragon and a Wyvern. Your eyes glaze over and your hand reaches out for a third time, sliding a finger at the top of his jeans to trace the waistband of his boxers. You hear him huff angrily in the cabinet, face hidden by the door.

“I asked you to stop, baby, please,” he urges again, “I had a long day.” 

You roll your eyes, standing up and slapping on the cold water in the sink before you walk out of the bathroom, “Whatever.” 

He emerges a few moments later, fuming, soaked, brows furrowed – almost teary with frustration. He wanted an apology but he never got one, opting to put you over his knee so you’d learn a lesson that would sting well into the next day – but it was a lesson that wouldn’t quite stick. 

After his show at The Hideout he’d pulled you onto his lap in one of the booths with the rest of the band. They’d rehearsed all week, canceling two date nights at the last minute in lieu of the show – and the practice was worth it. They got the whole crowd jumping this time, even if it was just thirty to forty people. His hand slid over your thigh, back and forth to bring down his speeding adrenaline, the smoothness of your worn jeans soothing him. He talked over you in conversation, leaning forward past your shoulders to interject. You huffed dejectedly, sulking into resting your chin on your hands with your elbows on the table. Tensing when a group of girls came over to join their after show debrief. 

After all the introductions they start talking music, the girls giggling and smiling. You’re not mean, so you indulge in the conversation – but that grating happy, bubbly friendly voice behind you booms over yours, his chest vibrating against your back when he speaks. “So who’s band is it? Who’s the brains of the operation?” one of the girls asks, glossed lips shining in the low light. The boys clamber to answer for each other, all attesting that the band is theirs as a group, no one’s the head, they all make their own decisions – but they’re all talking over each other.

“It’s obviously Jeff, he’s lead guitar,” you piped up, “It’s Gareth and Jeff.” 

“Isn’t Eddie the lead?” one of the girls laughed, her painted nails tinkling against the glass of her beer. 

“You asked who the brains was. Look at this guy, he look brainy to you?” you tease, running a hand through his curls. The table laughs, including Eddie whose cheeks are tinged red, but his grip on your thigh tightens under the booth. Excuse me?

To add insult to injury, you took his half finished beer out of his hand, taking a few sips to finish it  while your empty bottle stood at the center of the table. You felt his chest press up against your back, leaning forward towards one of the girls sitting next to him, “S’cuse me, we’re just gonna go grab another drink.” 

“Sorry!” she says, scooching out of the way while Ed nudges you forward to get out. You know he doesn’t really want another drink, he just wants to be mean to you. You know you’re riling him up in the way that he likes, you’ve been waiting for this all week. 

“You think you’re bein’ cute tonight?” he says to you when his calloused fingers wrap around your forearm, walking you towards the bar, “Last week wasn’t enough? Want me to make it worse this time?” 

“I think I’m being funny,” you shrug, “Everyone else thinks so.” 

“Yeah, you’re real funny,” he rolls his eyes, ordering another beer that you snatch before he can grab it. 

“Not an eye roll, baby,” you smirk while you take a sip of the beer, “You’re so bratty tonight.” 

“You’re one smart comment away from me taking you home,” he warns. You can see from the glint in his eye that he’s still buzzing from the show and there’s only one way for him to get relief from it. It normally ends with you sobbing on his bed, tied up and begging for more of whatever pain he feels like dishing out.

“Ooh, you’re so tough, Ed,” you tease back at him. His jaw clenches while you drink the beer he just bought. He snarls when he gets you home, shoving you into the bedroom, pulling your clothes off while he berates you over and over again. Lips and teeth gnashing, kissing, biting, growling over you while he does it. But you didn’t give in, you couldn’t. His frustration was too delicious. You didn’t cry when he paddled you, you didn’t even make a sound that resembled unhappiness. You just alternated between pouting and smirking, little remarks pouring out of your mouth with your moans. Every burning strike making you jump and keen and purr.  Eventually he gave up, resorting to a long lecture about bratting and boundaries while you both showered and got ready for bed. He counted every eye roll. Seventeen. 

Two days ago, you dropped off some lunch for him at work and normally he’d melt at the gesture, but he knows why you did it. This was the incident that made it clear that all your behavior had been intentional. Still mad about your two previous punishments you showed up in the one dress you’re not allowed to wear to the auto shop. The hem was a hair too short, bending over would put on a whole show to whoever was looking, and boy, were the guys at work looking. The fabric was light and fluttery, one gust of wind would send it up like Marilyn’s. With the right bra, your chest would heave out of it, but even braless it held you in place just right. It was his favorite dress on you – just for him. 

His jaw clenched when he saw you walk in, leaning suggestively over the front desk to ask where he was. The guys snickered and leered at you, elbowing each other to get the other’s attention. You didn’t even bother to wear tights. Everyone would see the leftover welts from a couple nights ago if the wind blew into the shop the wrong way.

Before making eye contact with Ed, you looked back at them and waved, smiling, working the sway of your hips into your walk. Your knee high boots clicked on the smoothed over cement floor while you approached him. He was found leaning up against a car he just finished working on, wiping his greased hands off on a rag, his face unimpressed with you. Now normally, this is whatever, Eddie’s used to you getting attention from guys. But at work it was different because even though they ogled, the minute you left they’d start to shit on him. 

You let your girl walk around like that? Act like that? 

You must be real pussywhipped Munson.

Gotta make her behave when she’s got an ass like that on her.

You never settin’ any ground rules? 

Better put a ring on her finger before I do. 

“C’mere, wanna talk to you for a second,” he said calmly nodding you over to him, slinging the rag over his shoulder. It was unfortunate how fucking hot he looked at work, even more so when he was disappointed. Old t-shirt covered in oil and grease stains, sweat collecting in some spots, clinging to him. His cover all opened and hanging open at his waist, boots shining in the industrial light. 

“Aw, what is it babe? You look so upset,” you mocked him loud enough for everyone to hear, lips in an exaggerated pout, “What’s got you so mad? I wore your favorite dress.” 

“Yeah! Don’t be so pissy, Munson,” his co-worker joked, “She wore your favorite dress.”

Eddie ticked his head over to the back room where the guys took their breaks, implying he wants you to follow him. You click behind him, giggling at the guys comments, joking back with them, tossing little waves their way until Eddie shuts the door behind you. 

He walks slowly over to the coffee pot set up, pouring himself a cup and turning to lean against the counter. He takes a sip, watching you over the edge of the mug. His stare makes you shift uncomfortably, his calmness was sometimes more terrifying than his rage. 

“We’ve had a big talk about this dress, baby.” 

“The weather’s nice,” you said softly, crossing your arms. 

“It’s January,” he deadpans, he takes another sip of coffee, “S’there something you need to talk to me about? You’ve had this lil’ attitude all week. Now you’re bringin’ it to my job? That’s not fair.” “I don’t have an attitude,” your tone is petty and touchy, “You’re just being sensitive.” 

He nods while he puts the mug down, voice still measured, “I really hate taking this mean guy thing into our real life, sweetheart – but you’re really not leaving me any choices. Is gettin’ spanked not enough for you? Am I not gettin’ that ass red enough to teach you a lesson?” 

“You’re not even good at it,” you lie, tossing his lunch on the table in front of you. 

“I’ll remember that,” he says with a smug smile, “Thanks for lunch. I’ll see you when I get home.” 

He approaches you slowly, hand reaching around to grab your ass to pull you in close to him. You whine at the grip over your welts from the other night and he snickers into his goodbye kiss. His stubble grates against your cheeks while he holds you in place to slide his tongue into your mouth, just enough to leave you wanting more. 

“Bye, princess – love you,” he lilts, letting go of you to grab his lunch and sauntering out of the room. 

The caning he administered that night was brutal, but you still didn’t cry. You yelped and whined, you begged him to stop, you called him all his favorite names to get him to go easier on you. He called your safe word after ten minutes – scared that you were too caught up in the challenge of not giving into him that you’d ignore your own safety. After making sure you were okay, he took his pillow and slept on the couch. 

He canceled your date night last night to work on the finishing touches of the one shot campaign he and Dustin had been working on for their monthly group ‘catch up’ at Steve’s. When he picked you up earlier this morning your attitude had nearly tripled in spice. Every word out of your mouth was a quick whip of the tongue. 

“Baby, please,” he begs, “Please just let me have one good day. Can we please have a good day?” 

You don’t reply, hopping out of the van and slamming the door behind you. He gets in front of you before you get to the door, eyes pleading while he leans in for a kiss that you don’t return, “Bub, I don’t know what’s going on, but I’m just – I’m so tired. Can you please just be nice?” 

“What are you talking about?” you ask sweetly, a sliver of sarcasm in your tone, “I’m so nice.” 

He rolls his eyes, “Don’t start.” 

Steve opens the door before you can ring the bell, running a hand through his hair and dropping it into his pocket, “Surprised you didn’t break the window with how hard you slammed the door.” 

“It was the wind,” you lie, “Took it right out of my hands.” 

You brush past him and ignore Eddie’s gentle reach for your hand, heading straight to the dining room to hang out with Robin and Nancy while the ‘kids’ set up their game in the living room. 

“You look beat,” Steve says to Eddie while Ed kicks his shoes off, “You okay?” 

“Something’s been up with her this week,” he huffs, “Longer than a week, even. M’so tired of her attitude, it’s getting out of hand.” 

“Did you talk to her about it?” Steve asks, watching as Ed rifles through his backpack to pull out his binder full of DM documents and his pencil case. 

“I keep trying,” he shrugs, “I’ve given her more than enough chances to talk to me about it. Even playing hasn’t gotten her to open up and normally y’know, once the water works start and she’s had a rough week she’s all out with it. It’s all about that release with us, does that make sense?” 

He sighs while Steve nods along with his rant, “And instead she showed up at my work the other day just to piss me off. Wearing her little dress, showin’ off to all the guys. After we went through the whole trust chat and everything, after the scene – which I had to cut short cause she just didn’t even cry? Wild. After the scene she told me she did it on purpose – as if that wasn’t already clear, but I didn’t need her to confirm it, y’know?”  

He stands up, flipping open the binder and making sure everything is accounted for. Steve chuckles to himself, leading him to the kitchen to grab them both a drink. 

“Don’t laugh at me,” Ed grins down at the paper, “I’m not like you, I just know how to smack her around. You like all that mean girl shit.” 

“It works. You want me to step in while the game’s going?” Steve asks. Eddie takes a breath, hearing your happy laugh bubble out from the dining room. He savors the sound for a moment – the smiliest you’ve sounded in days – and shakes his head no. 

“Nah, it’s not worth it,” he says while he heads out, meeting the group in the living room. 

After a couple of hours they took a break. It was always an all day affair, stopping to catch up with each other, getting lost in conversations. Eddie walked by you in the kitchen, hand plopping itself on your head while you reached into the fridge to get a beer. 

“Hey, I’d prefer you didn’t,” he softly suggests, “You’re just gonna get mean.” 

“I’m not gonna get mean.” You roll your eyes when he gets between you and the fridge. 

“I said no,” he reminds you gently, “Please? I’m not drinking either. You’re already in whatever mood you’ve been forever – getting drunk s’just gonna feed it. Can I get you something else?” 

“You’re being such a fucking buzzkill, you know that?” you snap. Eddie doesn’t react how you expect, no anger flashing in his eyes, no playful frustration. He just looks hurt, nodding curtly before stepping out of your way back into the living room. “Whatever you say, baby,” he shrugs. His shoulders round forward, settling in the couch and watching the conversation bubbling and tittering around him. He tosses you a look through the archway, shaking his head in disappointment. It was clear he wasn’t having fun with this anymore. You jump when the fridge closes and look around to see Steve next to you, alone with you in the kitchen.

“You think ‘cause you’re Eddie’s girl I won’t embarrass you in front of everyone here?” he asks pointedly, “You don’t get to act like that when you’re in my house.” 

“Fuck off, Steve,” you sigh, your eye roll rivaling even his best. 

“You better feel lucky that I didn’t get the okay to put you in your fuckin’ place,” he hissed while the conversation got more lively in the living room.

“Cause if you think for one second I wouldn’t bend you over that coffee table in front of all your friends and show ‘em how I deal with brats like you, you got another thing coming,” he continues. You shrink under his words, frown painting your face while he stares down at you — but that angry attitude, the reminder that Eddie couldn’t even bother to give you a solid warning, woke that mean girl right up.

“You wouldn’t do shit, Harrington,” you mutter, crossing your arms. 

“Yeah? Try me,” he offers. He shakes his head, hands on his hips, “You swear you’re so tough. Your bullshit is tired. He’s bored with you, look at him.” 

You look over and he’s frowning while everyone gets back into position to play but still lost in their conversations. His legs are splayed out in the recliner at the head of the coffee table, slouched down enough that his chin is in his chest. 

“He just looks sad,” you mumble. 

“Whose fault is that?” Steve asks. 

You sulk, “Mine.” 

You huff one final time before going into the living room. He peers up at you when you come up next to the recliner, leaning down to kiss him on the cheek. His eyes close at the feeling of your lips against him, opening them when you break away. He scans the room to make sure no one is paying attention before pulling you in for a chaste kiss, “Kneel.” 

“Ed –” you start, heat running to your cheeks. 

“Kneel at my feet for the rest of the game. Do you understand?” he asks quietly. You nod, kneeling down beside him while he got up to start the campaign where they left off. To everyone else, you were just watching everything play out – to him you were finally obeying. But it could never be that easy – just like the devil, you had to have the last laugh.

When the game was over, Steve and Eddie hauled off to smoke outside, talking quietly with each other – deliberating over something. You took that time to snag a beer from the fridge, confident you could finish it before they made their way back into the kitchen. However, talking with Robin made you less aware – hopping from one subject to the next, both big chatterers you had neglected the beer in your hand so it was only three fourths finished when the sliding doors opened and the boys showed up in the kitchen. 

Eddie doesn’t say anything, continuing his conversation with Steve while he grabs your coat and slides the can gently out of your hand, pouring the remaining contents out in the sink. You put your jacket on while he throws it away, starting his round of goodbyes to the group. 

“Let’s pick up some dinner, hm?” he asks when you both get back in the van, eerily calm, tossing his hair up off of his neck as the heat blasts. 

“Okay,” you say quietly, “You’re not mad? About the beer?” 

“Oh, I’m upset about the beer,” he says with a nod, keeping his eyes on the road, “But I can’t expect you to listen these days. You’re making your own rules, aren’tcha?”

“No, I –” 

He smiles, finally turning to you while he pulls into a drive-thru burger joint, “Don’t worry, baby, you’re gonna be very unhappy with how things go when we get home.” 

The food tastes like ash in your mouth. 

“C’mon, on your knees,” he says casually once he’s done undressing you down to your underwear. The ride home had been silent aside from the radio. You stepped in the trailer and he barely gave you a moment of reprieve before stripping you down in the bedroom. All tired eyes and frustrated grunts while each item of clothing got tossed onto a chair in the corner of the room. You obey his command but your eyes shoot up at him with a furrowed brow when you make it to the ground. He sighs while he puts your collar on, he looks defeated and worn out.

“Hey, wait,” you urge, taking his hand while he finishes clasping the buckle behind your neck. He looks down at you and falters at the look on your face — not playing, not in your role. Serious, concerned. 

“No choking, please,” you ask softly, “Not tonight.” 

He meets you down on the scratchy carpet while continuing to hold your hand, pressing a soft and gentle kiss against your lips.

“Of course not,” he agrees, “No choking.” 

His hands find your face, fingertips brushing against you like you’re made of porcelain, “Do you trust me?” 

He pulls you in for a deeper kiss before you can answer, taking your breath away in the process. Heat bloomed in your cheeks at his attention, the way his eyes glittered when he looked at you like that. Hungry, aching. 

“I trust you,” you whisper between his kisses. You catch his gaze and he looks at you expectantly.

“What’s on your mind, huh?” he asks, “You okay? We can stop, we don’t have to do this. Could always just talk to me about it, you know I’m all ears.” 

“You’re not mad, mad are you?” you asked softly, “Are you really mad at me?” 

“M’not mad at you, sweetheart,” he assures, “Very disappointed, but not mad. Just like teaching you a little lesson. Is that okay?” 

“Yeah, it’s okay,” you smile. He kisses your face, again and again. Reminders of who he really is. 

“At least I’m not Steve,” he laughs, standing back up, “He loves taming brats like you.” 

“I’m not a brat!” you gasp. 

“You sure?” he asks, looking down at you with a hardening demeanor, “No? You’re not?” 

You shake your head ‘no’, he laughs at you pitifully, “Coulda fooled me.” 

“Remember what I said to you?” he asks, going into the closet. His voice is muffled while he’s in there, “You’re going to be very unhappy with how I treat you tonight.” 

He emerges and your furrowed brows soften into sadness, eyes rounding into pleading when you see what he has in his hand, “No, sir, please…” 

“Pets don’t talk, baby,” he says gently while he clips a chain link leash to your collar. 

“But I don’t…I don’t want to,” you whine, tugging at the chain in his hand. He looks down at you without remorse, petting the top of your head.

“This is how you learn to behave,” he says, “Nothing else is working, so I have to punish you with something you don’t like.” 

“But…” tears pooled in your eyes as he took a few steps forward and tugged on the leash for you to follow. You frowned, crawling on all fours to follow him to the kitchenette. He tugged twice when he wanted you to stop. 

“Sit,” he mutters down to you, catching your eyes while he walks over to the cabinets above the sink, “Stay.” 

You huff, sitting back on your heels while he rummages through the cabinets, finally reaching in and coming out with a tall yellow Tupperware. He opens the top and looks into it, frowning, and then looking at you.

“I hate to waste food but you need this,” he says softly, walking over to stand in front of the sink. Next to him, he lays down a line of white rice by his feet. 

“Eddie, please,” you whined, “I’ll be good, I promise.” 

His head whips towards you, “What did I say?” 

“Pets don’t talk,” you whimper back. 

“Want me to beat that into you?” he hisses, reaching for his belt.

“No sir, I’m sorry.” 

He stands at attention, looking down at you, “Come.” 

You start to crawl forward but he stops you, “You’re gonna let your leash drag on the floor like that? You know better.” 

You shake your head no, reaching for the leather handle and putting it between your teeth before starting your slow journey next to him. You hesitate when you get to the rice. He very rarely goes back to these kinds of basics because he knows you don’t like them, you’d much rather be spanked. He reaches down to grab your leash and gives it a sharp tug, pulling you forward.

“Don’t make me warn you again,” his voice is stern and you inch forward, knees settling on the rice slowly. You start to whimper quietly to yourself, the sting is immediate. 

“Eyes up at me,” he instructs, fingers under your chin tilt your head up toward him, “You’re gonna kneel here while I get these dishes done.” 

“That’s stupid,” you whine while he wraps part of the leash around his hand so there’s little slack for you to move anywhere. The backhand he deals you at the sound of your voice is shattering, your thighs tighten at the feeling, lips parting in a low moan.

“Open your mouth again, see what happens,” he growls, “My number one rule when we play, for years, is only speak when you’re spoken to.”

 You grit your teeth, putting your face back to center and tilting up to look him in the eyes. 

“Shouldn’t expect a brainless pet like you to take orders though – that’s why we gotta train you.” 

You shift uncomfortably on the rice, trying to relieve the pain one knee at a time but it only makes you gasp as the pain increases. 

“You gonna cry?” He asks. You shake your head no despite the burn you feel in your nose and the rattle in your chest. Your knees sting with the bite of the rice, whimpering when he starts the dishes. He casts a few looks down at you while you stay looking up at him. 

“We’re gonna keep at this until you break, you understand?” he asks, you nod. It doesn’t take him long to do the dishes, you squirm when he looks down at you down the slope of his nose. 

“Stay,” he commands, walking out of the kitchen to the bathroom to get something, then back to the bedroom. You wait for him on screaming knees to return but he doesn’t. You hear the shift of weight on the couch, the creak of the springs in the cushions, the stomp of his boots as he spreads his legs wide. He whistles. 

“Come here, baby,” he calls out to you cooly. You hear the flick of a lighter and start your short journey to the living room. 

“Do I hear that leash dragging on the floor?” he asks with a warning edge. You let out an annoyed groan, pulling slowly at the chain link while it skitters across the tile. You put the leather back between your teeth, gingerly making your way over to him again. 

“Let’s check out those knees before I keep you on them even longer,” he mutters, cigarette burning between his lips. He waves his hand at you, encouraging you to stand.

“C’mere, pretty,” he says sweetly, the mask coming off briefly to wipe off the stray grains that stuck to your skin. It was certainly irritated, but there wasn’t any blood, no damage that would last overnight. Less frequent types of punishment, non-impact play, sometimes made him nervous — not as confident in the outcomes.

“It’s okay?” he asks, looking up at you. His calloused hand finds yours, a soft check in, a gentle touch. 

“It’s okay,” you nod while he presses a kiss to your fingertips, putting your hand back by your thigh when he’s done. He lazily places the cigarette on the ashtray sitting on the arm of the couch to settle. 

“You know where you belong, pet,” he says, voice dropping register again. The clink of his belt coming undone makes your hips twitch, the slow drag of the zipper of his jeans. He lifts his shirt up before he pulls it out, tattoos smattering dark against his pale skin. 

He leans back on the couch while you kneel between his legs with your tongue out, flattened against your chin. His cock makes you drool, spit pooling at the sides of your mouth while he lets his fingers drag over the underside, pink leaking tip peeking out from his foreskin. 

When he lifts it up off his stomach you audibly gasp at how wet the top is, hips shifting on your legs for friction. He leans it towards you teasingly and you eagerly lean forward to let your tongue stripe over it but you’re met with a hard crack to the face instead.

“Very bad,” he admonishes, “You’re such a bad girl.” 

He starts with slow strokes, soft little gasps puffing out of his mouth when he runs over the more sensitive spots. Your mouth waters despite the sting on your cheek, “Guess I gotta keep training you, huh baby? That’s too bad, was gonna let you suck it if you could behave first.” 

You let out a frustrated huff and he likes it.

“Let’s keep that mouth busy since I can’t trust you not to act on your impulses,” he says, his voice dripping with mocking disappointment, “You’ve been doing that a lot, lately.” 

He reaches into his back pocket and it’s clear now, what he got from the bathroom. The bar of Pears soap glowed amber in the side table lamp light when he unwrapped it. 

“Y’know, I forgot about this trick,” he says with a smile, like you’re having a casual conversation. You gulp at the sight of it, leaning back with your mouth shut.

“Steve reminded me today, when we were out having a smoke,” he continues, eyes and smile wolffish while he leans forward toward you. 

“You hated it last time,” he shrugs, “But you didn’t run that pretty mouth for a while. So it must’ve stuck, huh? Open your mouth.” 

You hesitate a moment too long and his patience runs out before the buzzer to obey goes off in your brain. His fingers work between your lips, pressing at the hinge of your jaw like you’re a dog who has a piece of plastic in their mouth. You sputter over his fingers, head turning and twisting to keep him from getting a hold on you but your efforts were useless. The bar slid half way into your mouth, wedged between your teeth. You knew better than to raise your hands and fight him, he’d cuff you before you could protest – better off not seeing how bad he could go tonight. 

“Much better. Y’look so pathetic with your mouth full,” he teases, “Really suits you.” 

“Since I have to do this myself now, who should I think about, sweetheart?” he asks you, your heart sinks. He lets his eyes flutter closed when he squeezes gently around the base, a dark laugh bubbling out from his chest.

“Should I think about Chrissy from the diner?” he asks, heavy lidded eyes staring at you, his breath hitches. He pumps in slow strokes, taking his time, “Think about her pretty blonde hair and her pretty blue eyes?” 

You whine, swallowing thickly while slimy suds start to leak out of your mouth, he smirks.

“Mmm, bet she’s a really good girl,” he moans, “Bet she’d never talk back to me.” 

Tears start to well in your eyes and he has the audacity to fucking smile. The bitter bubbles gather on your tongue as your salivary glands work to push the taste out, but there’s no point with the bar pressed deep into your mouth.

“You know I love a nice girl like that, baby,” he coos, pace quickening while he fucks into his fist, “Probably loves getting stuffed full. You think so?” 

His eyes open fully and he grips your hair at the scalp with his free hand, “You think so?” 

You nod, face burning with embarrassed and frustrated heat. 

“God, watching her pretty tits bounce when she’s on top of me? Fuck. Bet she’s so fuckin’ tight,” he breathes while he teases the tip with his thumb, brows knitting in focus and pleasure, “So fucking sweet, too. Not a brat like you, baby.” 

He leans his head back while he feels himself get close, edging himself – slowing down and speeding up. And then he hears it, your broken, sad, choked sob. The sound of the Pears bar dropping onto the carpet. His head perks up, and there you are, crying on your knees in front of him, wiping at your eyes.  “My poor baby, there you are,” he coos, tucking himself into the waistband of his underwear, “Finally got you cryin’. You don’t like that? When your master thinks about someone else?” 

 “No sir, I don’t like it,” you answer through blubbering and spitting up suds. He tuts, leaning forward, letting a thumb drag over a tear on your cheek. 

“I’ll be good, please don’t think about someone else,” you cry up at him.

“You’ll be good? Yeah? You’re a good girl?” he asks, sentences peaking up at the end like you’re a dog. You nod pitifully. “You see a good girl in here?” he questions, “Is there a good girl in the room with us right now?”

“Stop,” you huff, wiping your eyes again.  “Now that I finally got you crying I can really go to work, huh?” he smirks, “Think getting belted will put you in your place?” 

You nod while he pulls up his pants, “Let’s get that mouth rinsed out first.” 

He keeps up with ‘walking you’ to the bathroom, now a mess of tears and a soap slicked mouth. Shuddering and stuttering while you get cup of water after cup of water to spit out until the water runs clear. You still don’t settle, all the feelings of the week and some change of aggravation and anger surging and pulsing through you all at once. 

“You wanna tell me what’s got you acting like such a cunt this week?” he asks while you get situated on your knees on the mattress in the bedroom. Foolishly, you thought he might soften up when you started to cry – but now it’s clear he’s just getting started. 

“You just weren’t paying enough atten-attention to me,” you confess, quietly. He gapes at you, anger and disbelief flashing behind his eyes.  “All this ‘cause you weren’t gettin’ enough attention?” he hisses, “When’d you get so weak, huh?” 

“You kept w-working late, and ditching me f-for Steve, and D-dustin, and the band,” you whined. 

“Cry all you want,” he says with a straight mouth, “This is so disappointing, baby. Thought you were tougher than that. Gotta get you correct, don’t I?” 

“You kept c-cancelling, so I thought –” you continue.

“Hey!” he barks, startling you to look up at him, “I asked you a question.” 

“Yes, you have t-to correct me, sir,” you nod, “I need it.” 

“You need it?” he mocks back, “Get in position for me.” 

You oblige, bent over on the bed while he goes to get the belt that hangs next to the front door. You hear it clink with every stomp of his boots back down the hall, your thighs twitch with anticipation of him taking his anger out on you – much more pliable this time, much more reactive, no longer trying to stop yourself from feeling it.

“Attention, huh?” he repeats when he comes back in, “Well you got it, whore. I’ll pay attention to you all night.” 

“Thank you, sir,” you breathe. You hear him open the top drawer of his dresser, the sound of plastic, zippers. 

“Maybe we can invite Steve over to help,” he suggests, “Does that sound good? A little extra hand to make the lesson sink in.” 

“Do you wanna share me, sir?” you ask while he reaches over you to press each wrist to the outside of your thighs, wrapping each of them together in thin rope he picked up at the hardware store. A shopping trip you are certain had the owner looking at you both with a cocked brow as you both left blushing.

“Something fun about watching someone use my toys,” he says playfully. The makeshift spreader bar finds its way between your legs, clicked into soft cuffs around your ankles. A vision, bent over and spread out for him. Eddie’s not an awful man, so he offers the courtesy of tucking a pillow or two under your torso to keep you raised and balanced, pressing a kiss to the middle of your back. 

“M’gonna really fuck with you tonight,” he threatens softly against your skin, “How do you feel about that?” 

“Orange,” you say back. Orange, the coolest flame. The okay. 

“And Steve?” he asks, fingers grazing your inner thighs. 

“Orange,” you reply, pussy clenching at the thought of being beaten by both of them. 

“Mmm, that’s a good girl,” he rasps low, “Really good girl.” 

“When’s the last time I made you cum, pet?” he moves away from you again and you whine, the ache of your cry still sitting in your throat to be reactivated. 

“Last week after your sh-show,” you answer obediently. 

“So mean of me, huh? To keep you so needy,” he says, and that’s when you feel it. The handle of the wand being pressed against your inner thigh, the low buzz as he turns it on. You gasp while he adjusts it, feeling it press up against you before he secures it there, hips already searching for more pleasure as he turns it up higher. 

“Let me make it up to you,” the way he says it, you know he has that devilish look pulling across his smile. The metallic flick of his switchblade sounds and your panties are the first to face its wrath, pulled away with ease once the right slices were made. He follows up with the straps of your bra and you want to protest but you know he’ll buy you a new one before the day ends tomorrow – he’s always ruining your shit and buying you more, his mouth running apologies as he does.

“S’that feel good?” he asks. 

“Yes, sir,” you whisper, eyes already rolling at the orgasm building in your lower belly. 

“What do you say?” his voice is expectant. 

“Thank you, sir,” you rasp out. 

“You tell me every time you cum, okay?” he instructs. You nod, losing yourself in the feeling of being restrained and used. Your eyes flutter closed while you succumb to the vibrations between your legs and the sound of his voice, the stomp of his boots. A soft gasp pushes out of your chest, hips pressing down on the head of the toy for more friction. 

CRACK! 

The belt is unforgiving against the fat of your ass and your gasp quickly falls into a loud wail, the cry in your chest pushing to your throat. 

“Okay?” he repeats. 

“Y-yes sir, I’ll tell you every time,” you hurry out, feeling the coil in between your legs get tighter immediately at the sting of the belt. 

“Sir?” you ask quietly, “Hit me again, please.” 

“Yeah?” you shivered at the low gravel of his voice. You hear him rev up, then the leather whooshing through the air to land in a hard ‘thwap!’ across your behind. You whine at the hit, hands balled into fists at the pain – but god was it good. It was so good. 

“I have to make a quick phone call,” he mutters, “Keep track for me.” 

He returns some minutes later, leaning over the mattress to look at you, “Look at you, what a fucking slut. You like this?” 

You nod pitifully and he rolls his eyes, your hips twitch at the sight. 

“You cum yet?” he sounds so bored when he asks you think you might cum again instantly. 

“Twice, sir,” you confess. 

“Twice?” he repeats, “Must not be enough – so quiet.” 

You feel the tip of something drag against the flesh of your thigh while Eddie draws two short vertical parallel lines, “Just using up your eyeliner to keep track.” 

“But thats –”  His hand cracks down on your fresh welt before you can continue, “I’ll buy you a new one tomorrow. Get you a new lipstick, too. So shut up.”

“Yes, sir,” you rasp out. 

“Let’s get you nice and loud for me,” he mumbles, reaching between your thighs to turn up the toy's speed. 

“Oh, fuck! Oh my god,” you cry out, “Oh, shitshitshitshit.”

His giggle is grotesque when you feel the slide of your lipstick on your skin; your back, your ass, your calves. the waxy scent wafts through the air with the smell of your arousal, “Steve’s right, writing all over you is really fun. Wanna see what you look like, whore?” 

“Y-yes, sir,” you obey, hips stuttering while a third orgasm runs over you, “Three! Fuck, three.” 

Another vertical line is sketched on your thigh with the other two. The sound of his Polaroid goes off when he’s done with his handy work, leaving the picture next to you to fade into view. 

“H-hope you spelled everything right,” you tease, knowing exactly where it’ll get you, “Know how hard that is for you, ‘86.” 

He growls, a stinging dig he didn’t deserve, but you remember the ache of each canceled date. Every ‘I’ll make it up to you.’ Him mentioning Chrissy while he jerked off when you always suspected he’d secretly been checking her out when you went for lunch there. 

“Well that wasn’t very nice.” 

You groan at the blend of the crack of the belt on your ass and the sound of Steve’s disappointed voice. 

“Four, fuck, four,” you cry while your thighs shake — another line added to your collection. 

“Looks like your training isn’t done, peach,” Steve says sweetly, “You’re still being such a little bitch.” 

You hear him fall in line with Eddie, his ringed hand pulling at your hair to lift you up, “Say hi to Steve, sweetheart.”

“H-hi Mr. Harrington,” you rasp out before he drops your head back down on the pillow.

“Hi, angel,” his voice was low and syrupy, “So respectful.” 

“Heard he’s been real mean to you, peach,” he announces, and you can feel his hand skate over the hot skin of your ass where the belt has met you more than once tonight, “Making you be his pet, kneeling on rice, he’s so mean isn’t he?” 

“Yes, sir,” you reply breathily as the buzz of the vibrator turns up higher.

“I have to be mean, too,” he says softly, hand cracking down hard on your ass in a sweeping smack, “Remember what you said to me earlier?” 

“No, sir,” you whimper, the cry caught in your throat finally aching back out. Tears rapidly stain your face as you see Eddie come into view at the end of the bed.

“Why don’t you try a little harder?” Eddie bites, a short smack with his fingers bouncing off your cheek, “Use your brain.” 

“I said you — shit, five, FIVE, oh my god five — please turn it off Ed, please,” you whine, hips jumping to escape the vibrations, your clit beginning to ache. A wave of concern washes over his features at the sound of his name and not ‘sir’.

“What did you say to Steve earlier? Tell me and I’ll consider it,” he says, eyes scanning you hurriedly to check your face for signs of discomfort beyond what you could normally handle. You huff and cry, too overstimulated to answer him.  

“Don’t make me ask you again,” he warns, hand snaking back into your hair.

“I said he wouldn’t do shit,” you grit out, whimpering out a broken, “Six.” 

“You can turn the toy off, Harrington,” he says gruffly. Two more lines are marked on your thigh, you shiver when Steve traces them after he turns the toy off.

“Nice collection,” he says, cocking his head over to Eddie’s implements laid out on the dresser. You hear him rifle through his options, Eddie’s quiet instructions while they look together, ‘Too much, she’ll tap out,’ ‘She can only do a few with those,’ ‘You’re not experienced enough for that, you’re not here to practice on my girl.’ Warmth pools in your belly and soothes you despite the stinging on your skin and the bruised ache between your legs. They decide on the belt, it’s Steve’s favorite and yours, and you’re silently happy he joined in because Eddie absolutely would’ve caned you otherwise. 

“You have a nice break?” Eddie asks, he appears at the end of the mattress again – torso in your vision. You nod, feeling a wet spot under your cheek from drooling. 

He tuts, wiping some of it away, muttering, “You fucking dog,” under his breath.

“I’m not gonna do shit? That’s what you said, right?” Steve asks, you moan in frustration when the toy starts up again between your legs – setting turned up high. 

“Yes, Mr. Harrington,” you stutter out. The last syllable leaves your lips and Eddie’s belt meets you across the thighs with a speed and precision you’ve never felt before. The sound that comes out of you is desperate and aching, barely coming down from the sting when the second comes down hard the side of your ass. 

“Didn’t think this one through, did ya, peach?” he asks, a grunt and flounce of his hair adding power to the next one. 

“No, sir. I’m s-sorry,” you cry, shoulders shuddering when he follows through with two more. The vibrations of the toy and his rough smacks of the belt blend together again and you gush between your thighs with a high whine.  “S-seven,” you whimper. 

“What a slut,” Eddie mutters while he adds another line to your orgasm tally, “Gettin’ beat makes you cum?” 

“Yes, sir,” you nod feverishly, easing your hips back down lightly over the vibrator wand. He slides the belt he’s wearing out of his belt loops and wraps it firmly around his knuckles. You look up at him petulantly with wet, glassy eyes. Another strike of pain hits your backside as Steve whips the belt against you again.

“What?” Eddie asks, eyebrows raised, “You got somethin’a say?” 

“No, sir,” you raspily whisper. 

“Good,” he smiles, “Cause pets don’t talk, do they?” 

“No, sir,” you admit with a nod, yelping when the leather strikes your thighs. 

“You’re gonna cum ten times, baby,” he explains, “I’m gonna help you get there.” 

“Since getting whupped makes you cum so much,” he teases before both of them bring their belts down simultaneously. The release of crying is more euphoric than the orgasms, settling into the burn of each rise and fall of their arms, each crack of their belts and slap of their hands raining down on you.

“Ow, fuck that hurts so fucking good,” you wail, “Please more, please.” 

“You dirty fucking bitch,” Steve glowers, “You learning anything?” 

“Yes, sir – AH! EIGHT – EIGHT!” you scream, the choked sob in your chest wracking through you into a full on meltdown. They both drop their belts, Steve approaching you again with both hands gripping your hot, welted skin hard. You squirm under his touch while his hand barrels down on you again, the other turning off the toy. 

“You know something, peach,” he says, finger softly tracing whatever Eddie wrote on your back, “I think you act like a bitch ‘cause you wanna be fucked like one.” 

You squeal out a noise while he kneads the burning fat of your hips and thighs, spreading you open, “Does that sound right?” 

“Yes, Mr. Harrington,” you say between big breaths, trying to steady your sobs. You relax into the relief of the toy being turned off, shivering at the feeling of his finger going back to trace the words on your back. 

“Says here you’re an anal slut,” he smirks, “You like getting fucked in the ass?” 

“She loves getting fucked in the ass,” Eddie answers for you, a whiff of his cologne and cigarette smoke wafts through the room while you feel him detach the spreader bar from between your legs. 

“So how about I fuck you like that? Think that’ll drive it home?” 

You nod while Eddie uses his switchblade to cut open the rope on your wrists and thighs, your hands falling down towards the mattress limply. You lift one of them to push yourself up but Eddie catches your arm.

“Stay,” Eddie says sternly, “You didn’t answer his question.” 

“Yes, Mr. Harrington,” your voice sounds moody and petty. 

“Is that what you want?” Eddie asks, brows raised again. You can tell he wants your extra reassurance since this was newer territory. He didn’t share you very often, and not normally with someone so close to home. 

“Yes, sir,” you nod, he squeezes your arm twice in silent communication. A gentle reminder. A silent ‘I love you’. 

“Get her on her back, Harrington,” he smiles, “That’s how she likes it best.” 

Steve, though still stern, takes his time working you up to it – teasing your clit with his thumb until wetness pools out of you down to your ass. 

“You like it slow like this? Like getting stretched out?” he asks, “You’re not my toy, so I don’t wanna break you.” 

“Mmm,” is all you can reply as one of his fingers pumps slowly in and out of your tight hole, your hips moving in time. Your head lolls back over the end of the mattress where Eddie’s stood over you, the mix of his musk and body wash filling your nose while his balls sit over your mouth. 

“Oh, you can break her, Harrington,” Eddie nods, “Put some miles on her.”

Eddie pops open a bottle of lube and tosses it to Steve, “Two squirts is normally enough to get the second finger in, she’ll loosen up good after that.” 

Your thighs twitch while you hear your boyfriend’s low gravelly voice instruct someone on how to fuck you. How your body reacts, what your body wants. Like he’s always been studying you this whole time. You preen into his touch when his ringed hand slides town your torso to move Steve’s thumb away from your clit. 

“You like getting used, angel?” Steve asks, easing a second finger in slowly. You groan at the stretch, legs shaking when the pads of Eddie’s fingers swirl over your clit at the speed and pressure you like the most. “Mhmm,” you muffle out, hand reaching out to grab Eddie’s thigh, nails digging into his skin while you continue to drool onto his sac. He hisses at the bite of the assault, “Hands to yourself.” 

You whine when he takes his hand away, offering three short slaps to your clit with his fingers. 

“Nine,” you gasp out, hips jolting at the pleasure from the pain and the fullness of Steve’s fingers pumping in and out of you. You lay there like that for a bit, eyes fluttering closed while Eddie guides his cock into your mouth, slowly pushing in and out while his hand cups your face. 

“Think you’re ready for something bigger, peach,” Steve says softly, pushing your thighs up to press against your chest. You instinctively hold them up, never having to be told where and when to be helpful in providing access to you. You feel the blunt head of his cock push forward and you suck in a breath through your nose while Eddie’s length slides against your tongue. His thumb smoothes over your jaw bone. 

“You can take it,” he encourages, his hand moving downward to grab one of your breasts. A quiet groan bubbles out of his chest when Steve pushes himself in to the hilt, making you moan over his cock. 

“So tight, shit,” Steve grunts, a soft sheen of sweat forming on his forehead while his body finds balance on the mattress to begin thrusting. And thrust he does, not caring about your pleasure – only his. Eddie doesn’t mind though, he knows that part of what gets you off is the total disregard for you, that delicious taste of degradation and humiliation that comes with being used. 

“She’s good, isn’t she Harrington?” Eddie asks, hips moving a little faster while he fucks your mouth. Your eyes roll behind closed eyelids as the sensation of one of them pushing in and the other pulling out rocks you against the mattress. 

“Fucking Christ,” Steve gasps, “Yeah, shit – better keep her on a fuckin’ tight leash.” 

Steve runs a hand through his hair before both of them find a solid grip on your waist, drilling into you. You jump with each slam of his hips while your skin smacks together, waking up the buzzing sting of the welts they both left behind. You let yourself be used, moaning muffled by Eddie’s girth, pussy pulsing over nothing while they took turns teasing your clit and chest. Rough grabs turning into soft, feathery touches. Leather and lace, push and pull, back and forth.

“Gettin’ close, baby,” Eddie grumbles, the snap of his hips starting to stutter when he pulls out of your mouth. You obediently keep your mouth open and he laughs at you, tapping your chin closed. 

“No, you don’t get to swallow my cum,” he taunts, “You didn’t earn that.” 

You watch him fuck his fist, eyes burning with lust while he watches Steve pull you closer to him on the bed, your face finally staring up at him. You can smell the spice of his cologne, see the fire in his light brown eyes, his furrowed brow while he rapidly reaches his orgasm. Each thrust gets more punishing while he berates you into the mattress. 

“You take it so good, you fucking slut,” he hisses, “He trained you real fuckin’ good.” 

He leans over you, one hand supporting him, the other creeping up the front of your neck. You’re too fucked out to notice Eddie grab his wrist before Steve can put any pressure on your airways. Offering him a quiet ‘not tonight,’ with a shake of his head, curls bouncing next to him. Steve nods, not skipping a moment to use the same hand to smack you hard across the face – your back arches immediately. 

“Ten, oh my god, ten,” you cry out while your final orgasm rips through you, gushing down between your legs over Steve’s cock. Relieved and satisfied, the tears start to pour out of you again. Aftershocks of your orgasm making you writhe and whine, cry and shake. 

Suddenly, you feel Eddie’s cum shoot in hot spurts over your face. You sputter, eyes shut tight, face contorting while he purrs a low, “You want some more?” 

You whimper, letting out a pathetic ‘mhm’ with a nod in order to keep your mouth shut. You feel Steve’s knees walk over you, the ‘schlick, schlick, schlick’ of him fucking himself over you, using your cum for friction. 

“Say please, baby,” Steve coos over you. 

“Please, sir, please,” you beg, warm briny spend leaking into your mouth at the words. You catch the hitch in his breath before his own thick ropes of cum land on your face. You hear his ragged breathing, feel the shift of his weight while he leans over your body before getting off the bed. 

“Fuck, heh, she’s – damn – she’s good, man,” Steve laughs. Eddie laughs with him, ringed hand coming down to smear their cum into your face before cracking his palm against your cheek from above you. 

“As usual, rode hard and put away wet,” his tone is bored and it makes you shiver again, “Go hit the showers, Harrington.” 

You hear him step out and the bathroom door shut partway down the hall, the air stills now that it’s just you and Eddie. You let out a long, contented, shuddering sigh; too tired to cry, too tired to do much of anything. In the fog, he says ‘I’ll be right back,’ to you, and you aren’t sure how much time has passed between his leaving the room and his arrival. 

“Hey baby,” he croons, “You with me?” 

“Mhm,” you mumble. You feel the warmth of a wet washcloth smooth over your face, taking gentle care over your eyes and lips. “Can you open your eyes for me?” he asks, pushing your hair away from your damp forehead. Your eyes open halfway, looking at him through bleary vision – he’s handsome just the same. 

“Hi there,” he grins. 

“Hi,” you croak out. 

“Why don’t you rest a little?” He suggests, pressing a kiss to your cleaned off cheek, “I’ll be right here.” 

You barely register the last syllable of his sentence, exhaustion taking over before you can even agree to the sentiment. 

You wake up slowly, eyes blinking open to the dull flicker of the collection of drippy pillar candles on Eddie’s dresser and the glow of his bedside lamp. He sat up against the wall beside you, book in hand, something new he picked up from a friend at the garage. You lazily reach over and put your hand on his knee, groaning a little at the stretch in your skin where him and Steve had left their marks. 

“There you are,” he smiles, peering over his book, “You have a good rest?” 

You nod, rubbing the sleep from your eyes, “How long was I out?” 

“Couple of hours,” he said, starting to giggle, “You slept like a log. Just – out cold. I thought you died.”

You peer around the room and see that it’s been straightened up, the heats on. You’ve been covered up in blankets – water and aspirin already set up next to you. 

“Where’s Steve?” you ask, wincing while you sit up in bed, reaching for the pills to down them. 

“He went home,” he says, dog earring the page and setting it down at the end of the bed, “But he told me to tell you he owes you a night out.” 

“Ugh, a night out with Harrington – can’t wait,” you roll your eyes, sipping your water. 

“I told him you’d rather chew glass,” he laughs, the laugh fades to a look of fondness, “Hey.” 

“Hey.” 

“Was that good? Was that okay with you?” he asks, scooting closer to pull one of your hands between his. His fingers toy with your absent mindedly while he waits for your answer. 

“Yes, baby, it was okay,” you smile, chuckling at the dichotomy of his dominant persona and who he is after. 

“Just okay? Are you alright? Did you like it?” His questions are feverish and you can tell he feels guilty, teetering on getting too in his head. 

“Ed, honey –” you start, offering him a kind look that makes his shoulders relax, “I loved it. I love when we play. Adding Steve was really fun.” 

“You don’t want him, like, every time, right?” he asks. 

You pull a face, “No, ew. That’s like, a punch card kind of thing. Every five fucks he gets to join or something.” 

You both laugh in the low light of the room and he leans his head against the wall, looking at you through the slits of his eye lids, “I love you – I’m sorry it felt like I wasn’t connecting with you lately.” 

“It’s okay,” you nod, “I should’ve said something. I just, I don’t know – hate seeming like I’m being needy when I’m sad that you canceled a date. Like, we’re adults.” 

“It’s okay to be disappointed about it,” he shrugs, “I would be, too. S’not gonna hurt my feelings or start a fight if you’re just like ‘Hey, you’re bumming me out – let’s fix it’. I wanna fix these things – this is the long haul, baby. You’re not getting away from me any time soon.” 

“Um – but can I be honest about something?” you ask, nerves creeping into your chest. 

“Yeah, what’s up?” 

“Um, please don’t talk about Chrissy like – ever again.” 

His shoulders deflate, “Baby…I wish you told me, you should’ve–” 

“I know, I know, I should’ve said something when it was happening but I just. I froze?” you try to explain, “I didn’t like that.” 

“I’m so sorry,” he pleads, and you know he really means it, “You know I would never. I don’t really want her like that. I was just trying something new. I never want you to feel like there’s someone else.” 

You nod with a tight smile, “I just like – that’s why I’m scared to complain. Cause what if you wanna be with someone who will just like – brainlessly do whatever you want and not care?” 

He tries to fight a smile but he can’t help it, “Well, babe, I mean…you already sort of brainlessly do whatever I want.”

“Oh, fuck off,” you tease, swatting at him. He catches your hand and brings it to his lips to kiss the back of it. 

“You can complain every day for the rest of your life,” he says simply, “And I’’ll feel lucky to be the guy you’re complaining to.” 

“So, why don’t we get you in the shower,” he starts, voice soft and smokey, “I’ll clean you off.” He presses a slow kiss to your cheek, crawling over you. 

“Get you all relaxed,” he says, before tilting your head up to take your lips in his. It’s loaded with desire, not a peck, but a hungry mouth on yours, “Patch you up a little.”  

“I already started dinner.” 

Kiss. “Your favorite.” Kiss. 

“We can eat.” Kiss.

“We’ll have dessert.” 

Kiss. 

“Your favorite, again.” 

Kiss. “And you can have –”

Kiss. 

“All of my attention –” 

Kiss. 

“For the rest of the night.” 

His big brown eyes linger on yours when he breaks away from his final kiss, lost in looking at you. 

“You okay?” you ask. 

“Yeah, I just – damnit –” he sucks his teeth, “I made myself hard again.”  You giggle at his frustration, leaning forward until your noses press against eachother.

“We can take care of that,” you start – 

Kiss. 

“In the shower.” 

[lady-lostmind]

Bittersweet

Love is: Missing each other.

a @steddielovemonth prompt Thank you @oh-stars for betaing this!

WC: 891 | Rating: T

ao3 link

Steve hurries in the door, throwing his bag down and rushing to the phone, snatching it off the hook. “Eds?”

Eddie’s voice rings through the line. “Hey, Sweetheart.”

Steve sighs, slumping against the wall, heart still pounding in his chest. “Thought I was going to miss you. I got out later than I thought.” 

Eddie sighs. “You kind of did, baby. I’m sorry. I’ve been calling for like twenty minutes. We have to leave soon. I just…really wanted to hear your voice so I’ve been stalling.”

Steve feels a lump form in his throat and he tries to push back the tears welling in his eyes. “Fuck. Okay, I’m sorry. I uh– fuck.  I miss you.” 

Eddie pulls away from the phone and Steve can hear a muffled argument happening on the other end of the line, probably with one of the guys from the band. Eddie comes back, full volume, and clearly frustrated. “I miss you too, Stevie. I’m sorry, I have to go. I’ll try to call tomorrow, okay?” 

“Okay, I lov–” Steve sighs as the dial tone rings out in his ear, and slumps against the wall. 

He hates this. Hates that he only gets to talk to Eddie for a few minutes every couple of days. Hates that every conversation is rushed. Hates that he feels anxious if he’s out of the house for too long, not knowing when Eddie might get the chance to call. 

He hates that he kind of hates the band. That he hates this tour. Because he’s thrilled for Eddie. He is. He’s so glad that he’s getting to live his dream. That the band got signed. That the tour is almost sold out. He is. Eddie deserves for all his dreams to come through. It’s just– things are moving so fast. And they were just really settling into a life together and now…

Steve just misses him. He misses him so fucking much. Misses coming home to his crazy loud music. Misses falling asleep in his arms. Misses the way he would hop up from whatever he was doing to give Steve a kiss goodbye. He misses him all the time. 

So, yes. He’s so happy for Eddie. And wants nothing more than for this to go well. He hopes he’s having the time of his life. It just also…really sucks.

–

Eddie shoves Gareth who just hung up on Steve, and tries to grab the phone back from him. “What the fuck, man. He’s going to think I hung up on him!”

Gareth rolls his eyes, holding the phone out of Eddie’s reach. “We’ve been waiting on you for like half an hour, man!”

Terry sticks his head out of the bus. “LET’S GET A FUCKING MOVE ON!”

Eddie sighs, dropping his hold on Gareth and rolling his eyes at him when he just stares at him, waiting to make sure he’s actually heading back. Eddie turns around and jogs over to the bus, hoping they make a pit stop early tomorrow before Steve heads to work. 

No one ever tells you that having all your dreams com true is going to like, kind of fuck up anything good you already had going on in your life. And Eddie had it fucking made, okay? He landed Steve Harrington. Steve motherfucking Harrington. And this tour is fucking it up. 

Sure, it’s fucking amazing. It’s everything he ever dreamed it would be. Playing to thousands of people a night, hearing them scream the lyrics to his songs back at him. Getting to do the whole rockstar thing. Which, okay. That’s maybe being a little generous still. They’re not playing sold out stadiums or anything. They’re not fucking Metallica. But like, they have fans. They’re selling out venues. Sure, small ones. But a sold out show is a fucking sold out show. And they’re making like, actual real money. Eddie can say that he is a professional musician. Because he is currently supporting himself with his music. And that shit is cool, okay. He is goddamn ecstatic about that shit. 

But he misses Steve. A lot. And he hates that he can hear the hurt in his voice every time they talk. He would never tell Eddie. But he can tell. That this is fucking killing him. And he’s not doing so hot himself. Turns out you get used to it when a pretty boy is constantly smiling at you and giving you kisses when you walk by. He’s in fucking withdrawl, okay? Plus like…he was getting laid. Like, regularly. That’s not something he ever thought he’d have. He misses snuggling up to Steve at night, their hands wandering, and getting to hear Steve’s voice turn all breathy. 

And it’s not just the sex. He misses the sex, okay? He’s only human. But he misses Steve. He misses their shitty little apartment. He misses going to pick him up from work and take him to dinner. He misses the way Steve hums in the shower. He misses when he gets all sleepy when they watch a movie on the couch, clearly dozing against Eddie’s chest but insisting that he’s still watching. He misses the way he lights up when Eddie walks in the door, going all puppy eyes and smiles. 

So, yeah. He gets to be a rockstar. But he misses his fucking boyfriend. 

[coryosmin]

Sickly Confessions - Coriolanus Snow x Fem!Reader

summary: reader has a cold and now it’s coryo’s turn to take care of her. could be a second part to feel better but also can be its own fic. this is self indulgent mostly because i’m sick rn.

warnings: fluff, soft!coryo, ooc coryo because truthfully he wouldn’t be this soft, this really is just self indulgent, 1,200 words of rushed fluff

When Coriolanus saw you enter the Academy building looking like you’d been hit by a bus, he knew you were sick. Your eyes had bags underneath them, you looked exhausted and sniffling. Coriolanus walked up to you, greeting you as he always did. “Hey,” he greeted, taking your arm in his. “Are you okay?” he asked, looking at your form as you guys began to walk together.

You looked up at him, shaking your head no. “I don’t feel good,” you murmured. Your voice was hoarse, causing Coriolanus to frown. You had a sore throat. He stopped in his tracks, causing you to stop as well.

He brought his hand up to your forehead. “You’re burning up,” he said. “You shouldn’t be here today.”

You leaned into his touch, the feeling of his cold hand feeling so good on your forehead. “Got an exam today,” you replied, frowning. Coriolanus understood. He was much the same way, wanting to at least get through the day so he didn’t miss his assignments and such.

“For Professor Satyria,” he murmured, keeping his hand on your forehead for a moment before pulling away. “After her class though, you need to go home and rest.” You simply nodded your head, beginning to walk to your first class. Professor Satyria’s class isn’t until right before lunchtime. So you still had at least half a day until you could go home. You and Coryo continued walking to your first class.

You could hardly focus in class and it concerned Coriolanus quite a bit. You looked like you could fall asleep at any given moment and by the time it was exam time, your cheeks were so flushed that Coriolanus figured you likely had a high temperature. Once the exam ended, you all walked out of the class and you could barely stand straight. Coriolanus was right beside you, a hand on your waist. “Let’s get you home,” he murmured into your ear.

Coriolanus Snow never missed a class. He always goes to school, even when sick. So the fact that he left early was huge. And you realized, even in that sick little foggy brain of yours, that Coriolanus must truly care for you a whole bunch if he was willingly bringing you home in the middle of the school day. “You don’t have to bring me home,” You murmured, leaning into Coriolanus. “You vowed to yourself to never miss a class.”

Coriolanus shook his head. “Maybe so,” He replied, already guiding you out of the building. “But you’re my best friend and you would do the same for me too.”

And you couldn’t ignore that logic. Because you would take care of him in a heartbeat. He’s been your best friend since the two of you were young children. “Okay,” You agreed, unable to find a reason to combat him. You were just so tired and needed to rest. You wanted nothing more than to lay down and fall to sleep.

When you and Coryo arrived at your apartment, you realized neither of your parents were home. Your father was on some work trip and your mother was out visiting her parents for the day. So you had the apartment to yourself other than the Avoxes. “Go get changed,” Coriolanus said, taking his shoes off at the door. “I’ll see about getting you something to drink.”

Coriolanus walked off towards the kitchen while you made your way to your bedroom, getting changed into a pair of pajamas and then getting into bed. You sat underneath the covers with your back against your headboard. A few minutes later, there was a light knock on the door. “Come in,” you raised your voice, causing it to crack.

Coriolanus opened the door with a small tray in his hands. There was a glass of water, some medication, and a sandwich. “I told one of your Avoxes that you were sick. So they prepared this tray for you.” He spoke, putting the tray on your lap. “You should eat. You need the nutrients to get better, dove.”

Dove. That certainly was new. You nodded your head, looking up at Coriolanus. “Will you be staying with me?” You asked.

Coriolanus gave you a small smile, reaching to move a piece of your hair out of your face. “Of course,” he murmured, taking a seat on the bed. “I’ll stay for however long you need me to.”

After you had eaten and taken the medication, you felt ready to fall asleep. Coriolanus took the tray off of your lap, placing it on the floor temporarily. “Get some rest,” he said, his blue eyes looking at you.

You bit your lip as you looked at Coryo with droopy eyes. “Would it be too much to ask you to cuddle me?” You asked shyly, looking at your best friend.

Coriolanus’s heart melted as he looked at you, unable to help the smile on his face when you asked him. He’s usually much more composed but you’re sick and vulnerable anyways. It doesn’t matter if he smiles. “Of course, dove.” Coriolanus moved to lay down next to you, taking you into his arms. You were very warm and he knew that he had the possibility of getting sick too. But that didn’t matter. What mattered was his best friend being comfortable and getting better. And if he could provide comfort to her, then he shall.

Coriolanus wrapped his arms around you, bringing your head to his chest. You breathed in his scent as it provided you with comfort. His body was naturally cool which allowed you to get a reprieve from the heat of your fever. You snuggled into him. And in your sick dazed mind, you spoke, “I love you, Coryo,” not caring about the nervousness or the repercussions of your words when you eventually become clear minded.

Coriolanus’s heart fluttered in his chest as he looked at you, trying to comprehend the words you spoke. “Love me how?” he asked carefully.

“Like in love with you,” you replied.

Coriolanus shook his head. “You don’t know what you’re talking about. You’re sick.”

You pulled away slightly to look up at Coryo, still staying in his arms. “Sick or not, I love you, Coryo.” You said honestly, looking at your best friend.

Coriolanus took a deep breath, unsure of how to respond. Until he does. Because ultimately, he will always love you as well. “I love you too, dove,” He said, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “Now get some sleep. We’ll talk about it when you’re better.”

And so you fell asleep a few minutes later, comforted by the feeling of Coriolanus’s arms wrapped around you and the fact that your best friend loves you too.