#and they tell me to stay on the call for a little while longer

[koolades-world]

HIIII CONGRATS ON 2K FOLLOWERS 🗣🗣🗣

Can I request prompt #32 with Mammon?! Where the brothers are doing their usual teasing of Mammon and it finally gets to him. He then goes to MC for comfort! Maybe cuddling involved? 👀

thank you! of course you can :)

i love a good hurt comfort with mammon

enjoy <3

prompt 32 w/ Mammon

You loved the brothers, no doubt. You’d all formed unbreakable bonds and you spent lots of time together. They loved each other too. But at the end of the day, they were demon who really did treat each other as siblings. They were downright cruel to each other at times. You understood to some degree, but you and your siblings never went that far. You would get into a loud argument, but about ten minutes later, be good friends again and give each other a helping hand. Maybe that’s how the brothers expected their relationship to be, but it felt like more times than not, they took things a little too far.

It was oddly quiet in the house. You and Lucifer were sitting in his room together. He was doing paperwork, while you tried planning the latest shenanigan that Diavolo had proposed. You occasionally asked him for advice or his opinion on something. From time to time, the two of you would randomly start to chat about things that happened to come to mind. It was nice to work in silence, but it did leave you questioning what the rest of the household was doing.

“Do you think I should try plan the venue set up around the ice sculpture, or the games? If the sculpture was in the center, it would definitely help elevate the overall elegance, but the games are the whole point of the event. I’m not really sure what Diavolo was thinking asking me to plan a classy, but fun event. It’s very him though, I will say.” You stared blankly at the paper you were sketching on. It was rather crude, but it was only the first draft.

Lucifer remained silent for a second. “Plan around the games. The sculpture can be at the far end of the venue. Still center, but helps put the focus on what Lord Diavolo wanted. Besides, who know what kinds of games he wants to plan? The more room the better.” Lucifer didn’t look up from his work, but you could tell he’d thought hard about what you’d said.

“Thanks. You’re right.” You went back to sketching, making note of what he said off to the side with your other little notes. The two of you sat in silence for a little while longer, before Lucifer spoke up again.

“It’s awfully silent. I think I’m going to go check up on everyone.” He abruptly got up. You had been thinking the same thing.

“Alright, I’ll stay here for now I think. If you have any issues, call me.” You had a few ideas you wanted to get down, alas you forget them.

“I’ll be back shortly.” He shut the door behind him, leaving you alone in his room. You thought about snooping a little, but that would be a breach of his privacy. Besides, how many people could say they were trusted so much so by Lucifer himself that they were left alone in his room? You continued to work, jotting down ideas that came to mind to bring up with Diavolo and Barbatos later.

When you finally looked up, you realized Lucifer still wasn’t back. With that, you got up and decided to look for him. He hadn’t called for you, but knowing him, he wouldn’t even if there was something wrong. The house was still silent. It gave you an icky sort of dread. Something was wrong. You grew more and more panicked by the minute, throwing open every door in the house in search of anybody, but to no avail. The last place you could think to check was outside.

Fortunately, they were all out there.

Unfortunately, some kind of conflict seemed to be happening.

You struggled to take in everything that happening, But, the first thing you zeroed in on was Mammon. He strangely wasn’t part of whatever was happening. He was sitting on the ground, head hanging and looking defeated. Ignoring everyone else, you quickly made your way over to him and knelt beside him. He didn’t even turn to acknowledge you.

“Mammon?” You took his hand, but you still got no reaction. You gently took his face in your other hand and turned it towards you. You’ll never forget the expression on his face. It was devoid of the joy and that smile you were so used to seeing. Instead, it was blank. It was eerie seeing him with a blank slate of an expression. He looked without looking, as if he didn’t even register you were there. “Mams. Let’s go inside.” You didn’t know what happened, but that could wait. Right now, you knew he needed to be away from the ongoing argument. They were so into the fight, they didn’t even notice the two of you leaving.

After you shut the door behind you, the din was deafened. No wonder you didn’t realize they were outside. You led Mammon back up to his room and locked the door behind the both of you. You knew he had some snacks and drinks in his mini fridge in case you needed them. You sat him down, and threw one of the blankets you’d left in his room around his shoulder. “What happened?” Now that the two of you were alone, you figured he might be more receptive to you.

Mammon turned to look at you: the most reaction you’d see out of him so far. He stared at you, and you held his hand comfortingly. He gazed at you, still with a mostly blank expression. “Yer too good to me.” He finally spoke.

“You deserve it. I don’t think I could imagine my life without you.” You were a little confused where all of this was coming from, making you wonder what might have happened.

“Well, my brothers could. They don’t need me.” He looked away from you again.

“What are you talking about? Of course they need you. This family wouldn’t be complete without you. You’re the great Mammon.” You tried to lift his spirits, but it didn’t seem to work.

“Ya’d think differently if you didn’t see me so positively. I’m a piece of scum.” You lent forward a little, trying to meet his eyes, but he fully turned away. He gripped your hand tighter. You sunk back into your chair, but he didn’t move back to how he was before.

“What’d they say?” You move his hand and held it to your chest.

“They told me I was a stain on the family and I didn’t deserve my title. That all I did was make their life harder. They said it in the heat of the argument, so maybe they didn’t mean it, but I’m starting to thing they’re right.” You felt your heart throb for him. It seemed as if he was past the point of tears, because you saw none now and before. He seemed almost numb to it all. If you didn’t know him, you’d just assume he was tired. But you did. And you knew just what you needed to say to try and help.

“You’re Mammon. You fought beside Lucifer and earned your spot fair and square. They might not see what makes you special, but I do.I got to know you much more recently than they did, but we’re so close. Did you ever stop to wonder why? You’re so sweet and loving to me, even early on. It was really great to know I could trust someone in this new and scary world. To me, you’re perfect. I don’t care what anyone else says. You’re my first demon, after all.” You spoke from the heart. “You light up my world, Mams. I’m really glad I met you.” While he was still facing away from you, you felt the grip on your hand soften a little.

“Do ya really think that?” He seemed tentative with his words, as if you might take them back any second.

He still seemed unsure, so you continued. “Think of it this way. Every choice you ever made led you here, and the same goes for me. Even if every choice was a bad one, which they weren’t, we still ended up here, together. You make my life better, and if I need to tell you it a million times, I will.”

“Really?” He finally turned back to look at you. His eyes were still free to tears, but a smile tugged at the corners of his lips.

“Of course I do. Why else would I be here with you right now?” With that, Mammon tackled you into a hug. You playfully screamed, but hugged him back. He needed it. You let him have his moment, and the two of you remained snuggled up in your blanket on his bed. He rolled over, so you were on top of the cuddle hug now.

“I can’t be suffocating my human, now can I?” His signature smile was back. You were glad you were able to help him. You’d do anything for that smile.

“Prime example of you being sweet.” You laughed as he threw the blanket over your head. As much as he tended to deny it, he truly did love his human. You picked him up during times likes this and supported him no matter what, even when he tended to act prickly with his emotions. You were just what he needed in his life.

[doe-eyed-and-desperate]

You know what time it is (you literally don’t)

Anywhooo

Little bit of something from my searches

https://www.tumblr.com/mouth-rot/165649158276/artist-monstersholdingbitches-mhb-submitted

Like godddd imagine going on a camping trip in cabin by yourself just for some down time or maybe after a stressful breakup and you meet the camp ranger and they seem like super nice kind and understanding, even going as far as to drop some stuff off in your cabin from time to time whenever you called them so it just seemed natural for you to tell him where the spare key, (you wouldn’t want the wildlife getting into your stuff now would you.) After deciding to go out you return a tad bit drunk you had a few drinks at the bar nothing to heavy of course but it does help you decide to take a little nap which makes it all the more easier for your little friend to come in…..

Anyways just a thought I’ve been thinking about 🥰

Also I’ll be for sure gone for the next week so no thoughts for me 😔

-🩰/🎀

My brain forgot with one you chose sorrryy

Anon, you, you wonderful person, you're helpin my motivation so much<3

We will all mourn your absence😔✊

Life had gotten far too stressful as of late, so, you decided to go stay in a cabin alone for some solace. Planning to spend a day or two in nature, read bit, maybe even draw some.

After a bit of a drive you reach the point where you can no longer use your car and have to walk the path. You hop out of your car, opening the trunk to grab your bag and when you turn around you nearly get a heart attack as a park ranger stands behind you.

"Jesus christ!" you exclaim, putting your hand over your heart and laughing slightly at yourself.

"Sorry about that sweetheart, didn't mean to scare yah" He grins, "I reckon you're the one here for the cabin? Considering it's been rainin' for the past few days the paths all washed out, so if you don't mind, It'd be my pleasure to walk yah to the cabin." He offers, reachin his arm out slightly, silently asking to help you with your bags.

"Are you sure? Don't wanna bother you" You reply, secretly hoping he'll continue insisting.

"Course I don't mind darlin', it's my job to make sure everyone who comes stays safe and happy, that includes you." He deepens his voice at the end, bendin over slightly, straight up showin off how much bigger he is than you.

And who are you to refuse such an offer?

On the trail he tells you about the history of these woods and some nature facts. Then, he gets to the real interesting stories, detailing the old legends about these parts. They were all fun to listen to, but the ones that stuck out to you the most were about the werewolf that's claimed to roam the forest.

You finally get to the cabin and he puts your bag inside, stoping at the door as you walk in, waiting to see if you'd invite him. You turn around and look at him for a moment, deciding he's nice enough you smile an tell him if he has the time he's more than welcome inside.

He stays for a while before claimin he has obligations, giving you his phone number just incase you "need anything." The minute he leaves you book this cabin for a few extra days, there is no shot you're giving this man up. After that he routinely comes to your cabin when he has the time, always sitting close to you, putting a hand on your thigh, catchin him staring at you.

One night he comes late, you had a few drinks before he arrived, not expecting him and were a bit tipsy, but you let him in nonetheless. He notices immediately and subtly feeds you a few more drinks and soon you're tellin him that you're just going to close your eyes for a minute. He smiles gently, helping you up the stairs and into the bed, tucking you in and even kissing your forehead.

You wake up with a small headache, keeping your eyes closed as though that would help. Furrowing your eyebrows, your body keeps moving up and down slowly, and you for sure aren't the one moving it. Eyes still bleary from sleep, you blink a few times, finally coming to your senses and realizing you're being fucked. You start panicking, as you see a massive wolf is responsible for this. Somehow, you don't question it at the moment, to busy hitting it's chest, which only serves for him to growl and pin your hands down.

"S'alright, love, it's just me" You blink in surprise, recognizing the voice as the park ranger's. Then it hits you, he's the werewolf he told you stories about, no wonder they glorified him so much. You start to calm down, trying to rationalize all of this. I mean sure, its fucked up that he's takin advantage of you, and he's literally a werewolf, but god it's really hard to care when his massive cock is driving deep inside you anytime you try to conjure a thought.

So, you let yourself enjoy it, not caring about anything you really should. Moaning along with him, clenching around his cock, and baring your throat to him. He growls again, louder this time and bites into your neck, licking at the wound when he unlatches. You feel yourself getting closer to the edge, and when you cry out that you're about to cum, he starts truly fucking you. Slamming his fat dick in you over and over, you cum which makes him groan. Giving one last thrust, he fills your womb with an unreal amount of cum.

After a minute you start coming down from the high of your orgasm, blinking slowly, you feel his knot beginning to stretch your cunt wider. He shushes and comforts you while you whimper at the slight pain, but it quickly stops hurting and he flips you over. Now resting on his chest, tucking your head into his neck you fall asleep with his fat knot still in you.

[libby-for-life]

Okay so I've been thinking about it more, I follow way too many fanfic writers with no time to update the ones i've started. (anyway..) For the Just Desserts AU Lucifer is under Adam's control, powerless, back home-to a home that never wanted him in the first place. So he's alone. He can't even explain himself to Adam since the first man hates him so much for ruining his peace. So he doesn't talk, he just takes it-some time he screams, knowing everyone in heaven has much as a blind eye as sinners in Hell. It's just pure torture for him, what the angels would call Just. It would take a while, but i almost can see Adam growing bored. Lilith never returned to Hell, it's not like her daughter will rage against Heaven, she doesn't care for Lucifer either. Adam hates them both, but when he sees how Lucifer looked at their ex. He sees the devil he thought he broke, look just as defeated if not more than he appeared in the golden chains at arrival.

I was thinking along the same lines. Adam had always wanted a servant. In fact, in this one, I've made a little piece in a discord server with some others of what Lucifer's reaction is to Lilith in Heaven. It won't be for a while until Adam feels any semblance of guilt or boredom.

Lute was seen as a hero for killing the devil and Adam watched as she was showered with praise. Lucifer was taken to Adam's house where he would make the ground rules. Lucifer was incredibly light, but he knew the collar and leash would be more degrading.

He paraded him through Heaven as everyone threw trash, hissed obscenities, and glared at Lucifer.

He ignored Lucifer's hiss when a stray rock scraped his cheek, leaving him bleeding.

He deserves much worse considering what he's done.

But as for hands, none were allowed to touch Lucifer except Adam. When they got to his house, he forced him to the ground at his feet. "Alright, snake. We're going over the rules."

First rule, talk of The Wives was completely Off Limits. Second rule. He can never talk with anyone alone. He has to stay with Adam. Third rule, listen to him. He trumps all others when it comes to instructions.

Adam even took him to see a certain special someone in Heaven knowing the outcome before the conversation even began.

When Lucifer saw Lilith, he tried rushing towards her, but the chain holding him prevented him from going far.

"Lilith!" He tried calling out but when she turned to him, she glared when she saw him.

"What the hell is he doing here?" She spat making him flinch. What was going on?

"Hey, bitch. Decided to bring my lap dog around."

"Lily?"

"Don't call me that." She snapped.

"I don't...I don't understand?"

"You still don't get it, do you? You're no longer powerful, I can tell." Why did that matter? "You were useless when we fell and you're even more useless now. At least before, you were the King of Hell. Now? You don't even have that."

Why was she saying this?

"...I love you." Lucifer tried saying.

"And that was your mistake. You have nothing to offer me anymore. You didn't when we Fell, and you don't now." She turned away to look at the ocean. "You're an eyesore." It was a dismissal.

Adam whistled. "Damn, I always forget how cold you are." He dragged a listless and crying Lucifer away.

"How does it feel to be abandoned, hu Lucifer? Hurts doesn't it?" Adam sneered.

Adam did not expect Lucifer to just shut down. It felt good to see him like that. Finally, Lucifer knew how it felt. Knew what it was like to be abandoned by the people you loved and trusted. Knew what it was like to have someone GLOAT about that hurt.

(Lilith never loved Lucifer and only used him for power. Now that he has none, she sees no reason to pretend for his fantasies any longer.)

[moody-alcoholic]

Thunder

poor Simon needs a hug and a cup of tea :(

Summary: Simon x OC, established relationship, Hurt/comfort, mental health, PTSD, trauma, thunder and lightning. Mentions of sex (no smut) 1.2k words.

Masterlist

Enjoy <3

It had been a good day, a slow day we went for a run, I cooked pasta. We fell onto the sofa together turning the TV on for some background noise while we cuddled, our belly’s full and heads warm from the bottle of wine. Simon runs his hands up and down my arm and I feel myself dosing off, enjoying being laid on his chest listening to his heartbeat. Eventually we make it to the bedroom lazily making love, the incoming storm distantly rumbling in the background made the energy feel electric. I could tell something seemed wrong though, Simon just wasn’t himself, his movements felt off, his kisses quick pecks rather then the long and tender make out sessions I was used to.

“You okay?” I ask him as we lay in each others arms.

“Of course,” he says smiling and tucking a strand of hair behind my ear. I smile back running my hands through his hair. I know how much he loves that. Feeling happy and satisfied I drift off to sleep.

The next thing I hear is a crack of thunder, I spring up my heart pounding in my chest. I take a few seconds trying to orient myself, my hand already finding its way to the bedside table. I see the the weapon lit up by a flash of lightning followed by another room shaking boom of thunder. ‘It’s just thunder’ ‘just thunder.’ I say to myself forcing my hand to close the drawer and take deep breaths. I look over to Simon’s side of the bed he’s not there.

“Simon?” I call getting out of bed and heading to the en-suite. I peak the door but he is not there ether. I take my dressing gown off the hook wrapping it round me. I leave the room, I don’t see any lights on. I call his name again, I’m starting to get worried now. I check the living room and kitchen, empty, all I have left is the basement. I open the door the light is on. He must be down here.

“Simon?” I call as I walk down the stairs, I don’t see him, fear takes over he could be anywhere I head over to the weapons closet I open the door and jump back seeing him sat on the floor knees to his chest back against the corner, his eyes wide. I force my face to change from fear to loving bending down in front of him.

“Thunder gets you too huh?” I say trying to sound as calm as possible. He nods, you can’t hear it as much down here, and I bet in the small closet with the door closed it’s almost inaudible. I smile reaching out to touch his knee, he’s shaking. He won’t hold my eye line for very long.

“Stay here, I’ll be back in a second.” I say closing the door for him. I rush upstairs back to the bedroom, the rain is coming down harder the thunder and lightning relentless, I have not seen a storm like this ever. I grab our pillows and duvet heading back to the door. I stop a second looking down in his bag. I grab one of his masks, I don’t know if it will help but I will try anything to calm him down.

I make my way back to the basement slowly opening the door back open. I bend down smiling, slowly I show him the pillows. He nods and I help him place them behind his back.

“Do you want me to sit with you?” I ask. He nods, I nod back grabbing the duvet and slowly squeezing in beside him. The space is small but I don’t care I wrap my arm around his shoulders encouraging him to lean on me. He does, I pull the duvet over him feeling his body tense. I kiss his head stroking his hair. He pulls the door closed with his foot and I sit with him, I was right you can barely hear the thunder down here. I whisper to him over and over again, it’s okay, I love you, you’re safe. After a few minuets I feel his body start to relax. I keep playing with his hair curing it between my fingers massaging his scalp. I sit there in silence for a little longer, he’s playing with something under the duvet, rubbing it, I saw it in his hands while I pulled the duvet over him but I didn’t get a proper look. I don’t care whatever it is it’s keeping him grounded.

“John always used to say, ‘thunders not scary it’s just God moving his furniture.’” I say kissing his head.

“Maybe Johnny can tell him to give over.” He says after a few seconds. I smile, he’s starting to come back to me. I slowly move one of my arms on his chest it’s not the most comfortable for me, he’s so much bigger then me but I relax against the pillow stroking his chest. We stay in the closet until I’m convinced the storm has passed. I don’t wake him when he falls asleep, I listen to him snore softly, hoping and praying I don’t accidentally knock any of the weapons down. When he wakes I can already tell he seems more like himself, he moves to sit up and I let him stretching my arms. I smile at him as he meet my gaze and holds it. He leans in and kisses me, a long loving kiss. I stroke his cheek as he pulls away.

“Thank you,” he says.

“It’s okay,” I say. “They should stop making thunder sound like mortar strikes.” He chuckles and gets up to his feet offering me his hand. I accept as he pulls me up, I bend back down to grab the pillows. As I pick them up I see what he was holding in his hands. It was a red skull mask, I frowned I had never seen it before. He sticks his head back round the door scrunching the duvet up. I show it to him. He looks sad all of a sudden. He takes it out my hand rubbing his thumb over it.

“It was Johnny’s.” He says. “Found it shoved in the corner of the room.” I reach over and put my hand on his.

"Keep it.” I say. He shakes his head handing it back to me.

“It was his it should stay here.” I nod not wanting to argue and put it on the shelf by the boxes of ammo. I close the door, maybe I should get this place carpeted for next time. I follow him up to the kitchen and he makes tea. He babbles about a mission he remembers with Johnny. He seems so much better, I smile and let him talk for however long he wants.

I think in a way we’ve helped each other, my brain switched into ‘nurse’ mode the moment I saw him distressed in the closet, I had enough of a distraction comforting him I completely forgot about the storm. I wonder if Simon has ever had a place he can feel truly safe in. I guess a room filled with weapons and John’s things is the closest he can get to a safe room. I smile drinking my tea, I would have to remember to check the weather in the future.

[rambleonwaywardson]

Clegan Astronaut AU - Part 5

Masterpost

AU Summary: the boys as modern day NASA astronauts. Taking place in 2025, Bucky is about to head to the moon as mission commander of Artemis III while Buck is CAPCOM at NASA. Established relationship (obnoxiously in love).

Author's Note: We interrupt your regularly scheduled mission programming to bring you... a gay astronaut wedding? Please enjoy this wedding sequence that got away from me a little bit. Because they deserve all the happiness before Bucky flings himself off the planet.

--

October 11, 2025 Houston, TX

Gale has known that he would marry John Egan for years. He won’t be dramatic and say he knew it from the first day that that lanky, brown-haired boy came tumbling into their assigned college dorm freshman year, but… it was close. It was a sure thing well before their engagement, and not a day has gone by since then without one of them calling each other “fiancé” or “groom” or “bride” (Gale had eventually accepted that Bucky would never stop calling him that). Meeting John was a one-way ticket to the rest of their life. But Gale wasn’t prepared for how real it would feel today.

The venue they chose is perfect for something extravagant. Something worthy of hosting NASA’s best and the many other friends and families on the guest list, nearing 300 people total. Thousands and thousands of dollars went into this whole crazy day– one of Houston’s finest wedding locations decorated to the nines, enough food to feed hundreds of people, not to mention a huge wedding cake, a wedding planner and photographers and DJs and musicians, flowers and wedding favors and tuxedos that cost a fortune. 

But somehow, sitting in the venue’s designated bridal suite, it doesn’t feel extravagant at all. Warm, gentle light passes through the windows, illuminating the quaint little room and splashing off Gale’s face and perfectly coiffed blonde hair as he looks at himself in the mirror. Other than the photographer taking photos as he gets ready, it’s just him and his attendants: Marge as his maid of honor; Benny; Helen; Croz; and Crank, an old Air Force buddy. And, of course, Meatball. They’ve been hanging out in here ahead of the ceremony, drinking wine (white to ensure nothing stains Gale’s white tux), listening to good music, telling stories, and having a good time. 

Gale smiles at himself in the mirror and runs a hand anxiously through his hair. Marge, standing beside him, smacks it away. “Stop that!” she scolds. “You’ll ruin it.” His hand falls back to his side, his fingers twitching almost imperceptibly, just itching to do something with all of the nervous energy building up in his body. Marge grabs his hand to still it as she makes eye contact with him in the mirror and grins. “You’re getting married today, babe.”

“You know, there was a time everyone thought it would be us,” Gale chuckles as she moves in front of him to straighten his tie. 

She glances up at him, huffing in amusement. “Yeah, that was before everyone knew you’re gay as fuck for John Egan.” They both burst out laughing and she gives him a tight one-armed hug. The photographer takes a picture.

–

John can no longer really remember not wanting to marry Gale Cleven. He’s fantasized about those pretty blue eyes since the very first time he saw him smile, and he’s made it his mission to make Gale smile every day since.

That doesn’t mean he’s not freaking the fuck out, though.

In a suite on the other side of the building from Gale’s, Bucky’s groomsmen are living it up to try to keep his nerves down. Curt, as best man, has taken it upon himself to keep the mood light, the music going, and allow all the other men just enough beer to liven the room but stay appropriately functional for the rest of the day. Brady and Murph – two of Gale and Bucky’s friends from AFROTC – laugh loudly at some joke Alex told while Rosie scratches Pepper behind the ears. He sets down his drink and steps over to Bucky, who is staring at himself in the mirror.

Rosie gently pushes Bucky’s shaking hands away from his tie and helps him tie it properly. He offers a comforting smile. “Can’t have you looking sloppy on your big day.”

Bucky laughs warily. “Shoulda made you my best man.”

Rosie looks over at Curt who, in his defense, is looking diligently through the “Best Man Duties” checklist Marge had made for him, but, not in his defense, is doing it while dancing on a table. “Nah,” Rosie says. “He gets shit done in his own way, and I know you’d trust him with your life.”

“With my life, but maybe not my marriage.” 

–

Gale shrugs his shoulders and shakes out his wrists, taking a deep breath. Benny hands him a small black gift box, and Gale opens it, already knowing what’s inside. Delicately, he pulls out one of the cufflinks. Custom-made in silver, a beautiful likeness of the moon with a space capsule crossing in front of it. Today’s date is engraved in small lettering across the top. They were a gift from Harding, and he knows Bucky is pulling out matching ones right about now. He thanks Benny and puts them on.

“What’s better?” Crank asks as he watches from the ornate couch in the middle of the room. “Goin’ to the moon or marryin’ Bucky?”

Gale grins. He doesn’t say a word.

–

Bucky drops one of the cufflinks as he tries to get it on, and Brady snatches it before it tumbles under the couch. He hands it to Rosie, who takes it upon himself to put those on for Bucky, too.

“Are there gonna be reporters?” Bucky asks.

Rosie glances up at him as he secures the second cufflink. “Is that what’s got you so shaky?”

If we’re lucky-

No. Not today.

Bucky just blinks, clenches and unclenches his jaw. “No, but it doesn’t help.”

Curt hops off the table and shoves his crumpled checklist into his pocket. “There will be,” he says carefully, then rushes to continue, putting his hands up to placate the groom. “But just a couple, hand-selected by Marge.” Bucky takes a deep breath and tries not to let his nerves show. He fails. He’s been failing at that all day. Curt places one hand on each of Bucky’s shoulders. “They’re under strict instructions not to talk to you or Gale uninvited ‘cept when they get some pictures. And they ain’t allowed to talk to any of the guests on the record. Marge had ‘em sign a bunch of shit.”

Bucky nods and looks Curt in the eye. “Thanks.”

Curt shakes him gently. “Any problems an’ I’ll take care of it. You don’t worry ‘bout a thing.”

–

In Gale’s suite, Croz and Helen raise a toast to the groom – or, bride, if Bucky has his way – the best spaceflight partner, CAPCOM, coworker, and friend they could ask for. Everyone, even Gale, clinks their wine glasses together before taking one final sip.

Gale kneels down to press his face against the top of Meatball’s soft head. Meatball licks him on the lips, making him laugh. “Great, now I’ll have dog breath for my wedding.” Croz tosses him a mint.

–

As Bucky tries to tame an errant curl insistently falling over his forehead, he hears a shout behind him and spins around in alarm. Alex is lunging after Pepper as she hops clear over the couch, a small black box in her mouth, and runs to the other side of the room just as a photographer walks through the door. She slips right past his legs and out into the hallway beyond, Alex in hot pursuit.

“What the fuck?” Bucky exclaims.

Curt is standing stock still in the middle of the room. “She has the rings,” he says.

“What the fuck!”

–

When he hears shouting and what sounds like a stampede in the hallway, Gale looks up from the surprisingly sweet little note that Bucky had written for him to read while they get ready. “What the fuck?”

“Wait here.” Marge puts a finger up and slips out the door, opening it as little as possible in an attempt to keep Gale’s sanity intact. She’s glad she did. The entire groom’s party is wildly chasing Pepper down the hall. She reaches out and snatches Curt roughly by the arm. “Talk,” she demands.

He pants as he leans over to catch his breath, pointing after the fiasco ahead of them. “Pepper has the rings.”

Marge nearly slaps him.

–

The photographer gets an action shot of Brady tackling Pepper, with Bucky’s other 3 groomsmen and best man running up behind in a panic. It’ll end up being one of their favorite pictures from today… after Marge finishes being royally pissed off.

–

Back in the groom’s suite, the four groomsmen stand in a line in parade rest, chins held high. Pepper sits obediently at the end of the line, wearing a navy blue bowtie to match the others, and Bucky swears she looks like she knows exactly what she did, and she’s proud of it. The ring box is now securely in Curt’s pocket.

Curt walks down the line, carefully inspecting each of the men to ensure not even a hair is out of place and demanding they correct any imperfections. Four perfectly pressed and donned gray suits with navy blue bow ties and boutonnieres to offset Bucky’s deep navy tux. Curt nods in satisfaction and turns to look at Bucky, gives him a once-over as well. “Ready?”

–

Gale’s attendants stand in a loose circle as Marge checks each of the men’s suits – which match Bucky’s groomsmen – and Helen’s navy blue dress, which matches her own. She adjusts Meatball’s matching bowtie and turns to Gale, who is fussing with the boutonniere on his lapel. His fingers are twitching again, the only sign that he’s nervous, even though she knows he’s just not showing the full extent of it. She pushes his hand away and fixes the boutonniere for him. Then she looks him in the eye and smiles as she squeezes his shoulder. “Ready?”

–

Gale and John want to remember every single second of this day, but they won’t. It’ll go by in a love-hazed, celebration-filled blur with only snapshots and key moments to fill in the gaps. That’s okay, though. Maybe even a good thing. Perfect days aren’t meant to be wholly remembered. They’re meant to be felt. They’re meant to be looked back on with a dazed sense of sentimentality, of love, of I don’t remember all of it, but I remember it was the best day of my life. That feeling is what will get Gale Cleven and John Egan through the next couple of months. 

Here’s what they will recall:

The grand hall is even more massive than they remember, with vast marble floors filled with nearly three hundred seats and towering columns that stretch up past the mezzanine to possibly the highest ceiling they’ve ever seen. It’s elaborately decorated from top to bottom and end to end with navy, silver, and white decor including elegant and elaborate flower arrangements. Twinkling lights are strung from one side of the mezzanine to the other, crossing back and forth across the entire grand hall, and shimmering star-like decorations hang down from the mezzanine and upper ceiling. It’s a classy but subtly space-themed wonderland. 

Before walking down the aisle, they meet each other outside the entrance to the grand hall. Bucky can do absolutely nothing but stare in wide-eyed wonder with his mouth hanging open the first time he sees Gale. The photographer snaps a picture. 

Gale is in a perfectly tailored, bright white three piece suit with silver buttons, a navy tie, and a navy and white boutonniere. With the way the light streams in from the huge windows above, illuminating him from all directions, he looks like an angel. Bucky’s perfect, beautiful angel. 

Gale grins at him, already fighting to keep his eyes dry. “What? Something in my teeth?”

“You-“ Bucky stammers. “You. You’re… oh my god.” That’s it. That’s all he can manage. 

Gale steps forward and kisses him on the cheek before really taking in the sight of his groom. Bucky contrasts him beautifully in a deep navy blue suit, so dark it’s almost black, a gray waistcoat, light blue tie, and a white boutonniere. Their cufflinks, as expected, are exact matches, signifying not only their marriage but their legacy to this world. Everything that makes them whole in one little piece of metal. 

Gale reaches out and brushes his hand over the curl Bucky had spent so long trying to tame, making it fall over his forehead again. 

“Hey!” Bucky cries.

Gale just smiles. “You look more you this way.” 

They’ll remember Marge walking them down the aisle together. She’s in between the two, wearing a lovely navy blue bridesmaid dress and carrying a small baby-blue and white bouquet that matches the one Helen will be holding. Gale didn’t want to carry one – that was the line he drew – but they wanted the girls to have something to hold. 

A string quartet plays What A Wonderful World by Louis Armstrong, and Bucky walks on Marge’s right, Gale on her left, each holding tight to one arm as hundreds of people stand and watch them approach the altar. While planning the wedding, Gale had felt a bit nervous about who would walk them down the aisle; neither of them had doting parents left to do it. But this, he thinks, was the right choice. One of the most important people in both of their lives, the person who binds them together and keeps them sane. 

This, Marge thinks, is one of her proudest moments as a friend. The photographer snaps a picture. 

During the ceremony, Bucky is so besotted with Gale that, when it comes time for him to say his vows, Curt has to shove him gently to get his attention. Bucky can’t help but laugh, and everyone laughs with him. He shakes his head, bites his lip, holds tight to Gale’s perfect hands. He’s never been the best with words and he just so badly wants to get this right. “Gale,” he says. And he has to pause, because he’s worried for a second that his voice won’t let him do it. 

“Gale, I knew you were someone special from the first time I ever saw you smile. I knew that I had to hold onto you, and God knows I held on with everything I had. You know, teenagers always think they know what love is but, uh, wow, I was not prepared for you.” He releases one of Gale’s hands to wipe at his face with a shaky laugh before entwining their fingers once again.

“We’ve been through so much together. And I don’t know where I’d be, who I’d be, without you. You’re the best thing that’s ever happened to me, that will ever happen to me, and I’m going to the goddamn moon next month so that’s saying a lot, because that doesn’t even come close to how in awe I am of getting to spend the rest of my life with you. You’re the most amazing human being I’ve ever known, and sometimes I still can’t believe how lucky I am. How lucky I am to be standing here, looking at you, with you looking at me like that.” 

Bucky shakes his head like he can’t even fathom what he did to deserve someone so perfect. Gale squeezes his hands tight, and Bucky tries to finish before he can't get the words out anymore. He wasn’t at all prepared for how emotional he’d feel today. “I am so proud of you and of us and of everything we’ve ever done and will do. I love you more than anything in this entire wild universe. I love you to the moon, to the stars… Gale, I love you more than any words could ever say, and I promise I will keep loving you, keep doing my best by you, for the rest of our lives.”

When Gale starts reciting his vows – “John Egan, I loved you the moment you barreled into my life, and I have loved you every moment since” – Bucky is suddenly glad he heard them last night, because his heart is pounding so loud and all he can do is think I love you I love you I love you.

He blinks away the tears that are threatening to spill and tunes back in as Gale comes to the part he didn’t hear before. “I love this life with you, John. Nothing makes me happier than waking up every day to you, going to sleep every night at your side. Nothing makes me prouder than watching you chase your dreams. And not a day goes by that I don’t think about how lucky I am. Because of all the possible places, all the possible times we each could have existed, the universe allowed us to walk this Earth together. Words can’t describe how thankful I am that you’re in my life. And I promise I will hold onto you with all I’ve got, I will love you with my entire being, until the end of time.”

When Curt gives them the rings, Bucky’s hand is shaking so bad he’s worried he’ll fuck it up. But Gale is there, steady despite the fact that his heart is racing and Bucky can feel it in the pulse in his wrist. And when they both say “I do,” they mean it more than anything they’ve ever said in their entire lives. 

When they kiss, it’s sweet and it’s passionate and they hold each other like the rest of the world has fallen away. The photographer snaps a picture. 

A room full of people is clapping and cheering. Benny and Brady whoop and holler and the dogs start barking in excitement. Then Pepper breaks free of Alex’s hold and nearly knocks down the happy couple. Meatball quickly joins her, celebrating right along with Buck and Bucky at the altar as they laugh and try to stay upright, try to keep two massive huskies from ruining their suits. The photographer snaps a picture.  

During the cocktail hour, the newlyweds and the wedding party run through staged photo after staged photo with every possible combination of wedding attendants and every possible picturesque background and positioning for John and Gale. Later they’ll think that no matter how much they paid their wedding photographer, it won’t have been enough to compensate for how elegantly he captured every possible moment. 

True to Curt’s word, there are two reporters with two different news outlets. At Marge’s direction, they were barred from photographing the ceremony, but have been granted the opportunity to take a few photos of their own during this time as well as throughout the reception. Bucky’s heart is beating too fast, trying to outrun the negative thoughts beginning to swirl around his brain. But the reporters smile kindly, congratulate them, and ask what type of photos they would be comfortable with them taking. 

They don’t say another word, other than offering some posing directions, until Gale says “do you need anything else from us?”

One of them, a lovely young woman, replies “only if you’re comfortable sharing a few words or answering some questions. I’m sure people would love to hear what you both are thinking on your big day!” Bucky wonders what lengths Marge had to go to to keep them so courteous. Curt is standing by, more like a bodyguard than a best man, ready to intervene. 

But Gale nods and strikes up a conversation with both reporters. Bucky’s ears are ringing, his hand holding too tightly to Gale’s. When Gale glances at him, a silent question – is this okay? – Bucky just gives a slight nod. It has to be. But he’ll never remember a word of what was said. 

He lets Gale do all the talking except for when the other reporter, an older man, asks Bucky what he loves the most about Gale. Bucky’s breath catches in his throat as he looks right at the guy like the answer is obvious. “Everything.”

The magazine and news articles that are printed about their wedding will be kind, written with cognizance, grace, and an appreciation for everything it stood for. The photographs will be flattering and genuine. They won’t mention that Bucky so clearly did not want to talk to them. All they’ll say is that John Egan was so mesmerized by his husband that everything else was secondary. They won’t be wrong. 

Bucky knows he owes Marge his fucking life at this point. 

When he starts to get fidgety, fiddling nervously with Gale’s fingers in his own, Gale looks over at him, kisses his cheek, thanks the reporters, and tells them to enjoy the reception. 

Then he takes Bucky by the hand and they slip away to a quiet corner before they have to go back into the grand hall. Gale holds him tight until his heartbeat starts to slow again. 

By the time the cocktail hour comes to an end, the amazing staff have transformed the grand hall into something somehow even more impressive, with neatly arranged tables and flowers and balloons and lighting in soft white and blue hues. The wedding cake, four tiers of navy blue with silver dusting and white flowers cascading down one side, sits on display at one end of the room, opposite the dance floor. The topper is a black silhouette of two men standing on a crescent moon. 

Gale and John re-enter, hand in hand, as the DJ announces their first appearance as newlyweds. When they take their place on the dance floor, all eyes are on them as Can’t Help Falling in Love plays over the speakers. 

Even with some spins thrown in, they manage not to trip. But for the most part they just hold each other, breathe each other in, know that they never have to let go. Gale thinks that he has never been more in love. Bucky thinks that this couldn’t be more perfect. They don’t even notice when the photographer snaps a picture. 

By the time toasts come around, Gale and Bucky haven’t stopped laughing and smiling since the reception began. There’s hardly been a moment where they aren’t touching, whether it’s a knee or a hand or an arm or a kiss. They sit together at the table of honor as Curt, in Curt fashion, climbs up onto his chair and taps his wine glass with a fork. “The maid of honor would like to say a few words,” he declares, before stepping down and helping Marge up. Gale worries about her up there in her heels, but then he realizes, it’s Marge. She’s fine. 

“I can clearly remember the night Gale first met John,” she begins, as she turns to look at them warmly. “It was when they first moved into their college dorm freshman year. Yes, everyone, that’s how long these two idiots have been in love. Because that night, Gale snuck into the stairwell and called me. The first thing he says is, ‘Marge, I don’t know if I can do it. This kid is the most chaotic, most talkative, most energetic guy I’ve ever met.’ So I tell him he just met the guy, give him a chance, and he goes on to list every single thing that’s wrong with John Egan.” The crowd laughs, and Gale blushes as he sips his drink, Bucky acting hurt even though he knows this story. 

They go quiet at Marge’s next words, though, laughter turning to awe. She smiles at the two of them. “And then he says ‘and my god, Marge, he’s beautiful.’” 

Gale just about turns bright red. Bucky kisses him lovingly on the temple as Marge goes on. “And, well, that was that. Neither one of them ever looked back. I have had the privilege of watching these two grow up together in the many years since. From the first time I saw them together, there was no question they were in love. I think I knew it before they did, but today was always where they were heading. No matter what the world threw at them, there was never anything that could keep them apart for long. There was never anything one could do that the other wouldn’t eventually forgive. There was never anything that could break them. ‘Buck and Bucky,’ we all say. ‘It’s just how the world is meant to be.’ We can’t imagine a life where these two aren’t attached at the hip, and I’ve known this to be true since they were just boys. So, to my boys.” She raises her glass in toast. “You‘ve built something incredible between you. The rest of us could only hope to be so lucky. I love you both, and I know you’ll have a beautiful life together.”

Curt helps Marge down and climbs back on the chair himself as everyone claps and takes a drink. “Man, I just spoke at this man’s birthday and now I gotta do it here, too.” Everyone laughs. “Alright Bucky, I’m gonna call ya John cause this feels like a sentimental sorta moment. So, I first met John – fuck, no, never mind. Can’t do that. Ain’t right… I first met Bucky when we both went into the service after finishing AFROTC at our respective schools. From day one, he wouldn’t shut up about this guy, Buck, from college. I thought he was crazy. Didn’t learn for weeks that Buck was actually Gale Cleven and was, in fact, not Bucky just talkin’ ‘bout himself in some weird third person. But he’d talk your ear off about Buck Cleven any chance he got. Buck this, Buck that, Buck’s at another base, can’t wait for you to meet Buck, you’re gonna love Buck, I miss Buck.” It’s John’s turn to blush. 

“And then it was even longer before I learned that Buck wasn’t just some guy he knew, some best friend he admired. No, Gale was basically Bucky’s reason for stayin’ alive, keepin’ some sense of self-preservation through all the crazy shit we did in the Air Force. He was the love of his life, the person he had to get home to. Two airmen, sometimes together and sometimes apart, but always holdin’ each other up somehow. It would’ve been sweet except for Bucky never shuttin’ up about it. It was insufferable, and I’ve been dealin’ with it for ten fuckin’ years.” He glances at Gale. “Gale, honestly man, you could do better.” Gale grins and rolls his eyes.

“Nah, but really,” Curt continues. “I didn’t know it back then, but these two would become my best friends, and they amaze me all the time, as individuals and as a couple. I only had to meet Gale once. See them together once. And I understood.” He smiles fondly at his friends, and it may be the most genuine Curt’s ever been in public his entire life. “All you gotta do is watch these two for a moment, and anyone can tell that the way they look at each other is somethin’ beautiful.” He raises his glass. “Here’s to you two fuckin’ love struck dorks.”

The rest of the night flies by in a blur. Music and dancing and singing and talking with friends and thanking people for coming. Bucky sings along obnoxiously to Blue Skies and Gale can’t hide his embarrassment. Someone jokingly asks if he already regrets his choices but he just laughs and shakes his head, says “not even for a second.”

Gale slow dances with Meatball. Then with Pepper, too "so she doesn't feel left out." Then, for the hundredth time, with Bucky, cause he literally cannot stand Gale being apart from him for that long.

When they cut the cake, Bucky’s hand just about engulfing Gale’s around the handle of the knife, it’s messy and imperfect and they can’t stop giggling like little kids. Bucky takes a handful of cake and smashes it into Gale’s mouth, smearing blue icing all over his lips and nose. Gale kisses Bucky through it and it’s sticky and sweet and the best cake they’ve ever tasted. 

At some point, Bucky locates and steals the bouquet that Marge walked them down the aisle with. He grabs Gale’s hand, pulling him away from a group of friends to drag him up the stairs to the mezzanine. He shoves the flowers against Gale’s chest. “Gotta toss the bouquet!” He insists. 

Gale rolls his eyes. “Bucky…”

“No excuses! It’s tradition.”

Gale motions between the two of them. “This isn’t exactly traditional.”

But then someone is announcing to the whole room that the wedding toss is happening and Bucky spins Gale right around so his back is to the rail. He kisses him gently behind his ear and says “you’re the most beautiful bride in the whole world.” 

Gale groans in exasperation, but he’s smiling anyways. “You better believe it,” he mutters. Then he covers his eyes with his free hand as people gather below, and he tosses the flowers over his shoulder.  

–

It’ll go down as possibly the best party in NASA Houston history. But what the couple will remember most clearly, most fondly, is what happens after, when it’s just the two of them alone in the quiet night. They’ll remember these simple moments, woven together with love and desire and care. Body and breath and soul. The way it all feels so different from just days before and yet not different at all. 

The ineffable connection between them. That’s what Gale will cling onto, dream about no matter how much it might hurt, on those days when he’s alone on this planet just hoping against hope for his husband to come home. 

They stumble up their front walk, not because they’re drunk but because they’re delirious, exhausted and giddy and in love to the point that they’re out of breath and out of words and nothing else matters other than being in each other’s arms. Gale opens the door, but Bucky grabs him by the hand. “Aren’t I supposed to carry you through or somethin’?”

Gale tilts his head and raises an eyebrow. “You realize you did actually marry a man, right?”

“Course I do.” Bucky smirks and puts his hands on Gale’s narrow hips. Everyone always thinks Gale is tall, built, broad. Until Bucky comes, slips an arm around his slim waist or grabs him by the shoulders or just generally exists beside him. Then all of a sudden, Gale looks small. The way Bucky towers over him makes his heart go wild. His eyes flutter closed as Bucky presses him against the door frame and puts his mouth next to his ear, nips at it gently. He whispers, “But you’re still my bride.”

Before Bucky can do whatever he’s about to do, Gale grabs his hand and tugs him roughly through the door and Bucky is not complaining. 

Somehow, they end up in the kitchen. Bucky opens the fridge and grabs the bottle of champagne they bought for tonight, expertly pops the cork with a delighted grin. They both take a sip. Then, bottle in his left hand, Bucky presses his right hand to Gale’s chest and pushes him back against the kitchen counter. Gale lifts himself up so he’s sitting on the granite countertop. They haven’t done a thing and his hair is already a mess, and he’s looking at Bucky like that with his lips parted and his eyes bright and the corner of his mouth ticking up in just the hint of a smile that says, like a challenge, now what?

Bucky steps between his legs, rests a hand on Gale’s hip, and looks him up and down, at that lovely white suit and the way it snatches his waist and accentuates his shoulders. “You look fucking amazing in this. But I need it off of you asap.” He starts working at Gale’s tie until it’s completely undone, hanging limply around his neck. 

Gale grabs the bottle of champagne and presses it to his lips, takes another sip, then cups Bucky’s cheek and kisses him softly. Bucky bites at Gale’s lower lip and, without looking, carefully guides his hand to set the bottle on the counter. When he pulls away, with hands far steadier than when he slid the wedding ring over Gale’s finger, he makes quick work of undoing the top few buttons of Gale’s shirt, lets the tie drop to the floor. Gale groans quietly at the gentle kisses on his collarbone, the teasing teeth at his neck, as Bucky strips him of his suit jacket, then his waistcoat. 

Not fair, he thinks, and with urgent fingers grabs at Bucky’s tie, his jacket, his shirt buttons. Equally urgent fingers twist into Gale’s soft hair. 

Gale pushes Bucky away, hops off the counter, presses him to the kitchen wall. Between kisses, Bucky undoes the rest of the buttons on Gale’s shirt. It falls to the tile below, exposing a muscular chest and torso, and Bucky rubs his hands up and down Gale’s sides. Then he takes his hand and leads him down the hall to the bedroom, gently pushes him to sit on the edge of the bed. He wants to fucking worship this man. 

They both kick off their shoes and Gale leans back on his elbows, cheeks flushed as he stares at Bucky in awe, watching him strip off his waistcoat and dress shirt. When they make eye contact, the same desperate and eternal thought engulfs both of their entire beings: beautiful. 

Then Bucky’s on top of Gale, pushing him back back back into the soft mattress. And when their hands come together on top of the sheets, they pause to marvel at two silver rings, glinting in the moonlight. Inextricably linking them to one another for the rest of their lives, no matter where they go or what they do. 

“I love you,” Gale whispers. 

“To the moon and back,” Bucky says breathlessly. And then he kisses him.  

--

--

Thank you to everyone who has been reading, liking, commenting, etc. Hearing your thoughts fuels my inspiration and makes me day!

[morganski-19]

I Don't Know Which Way's Home

Chapter 19: Nightmares

ao3 link, Part 1, Part 18

tw: minor descriptions of physical assault, PTSD panic attack, car crashes, and emetophobia (very minor description)

Present Day, June 1986

It’s been three weeks since the court ruled in Steve’s favor, and he still doesn’t quite believe it. Doesn’t believe it when his lawyer calls to tell him that the payment will be coming to him soon. Doesn’t believe it when that money gets transferred to him. When he pays his lawyer and it’s all over.

Steve doesn’t have to fight with them anymore. Have to think about them anymore. They have absolutely no power over him whatsoever.

He doesn’t know what to do with that really.

All his life, he’s been playing the part designed for him. Done what other people wanted, doing things for himself later. In secret. Now that most of it was out, the pressure gone, he doesn’t know what to do anymore.

Steve gets up to go to a job that he didn’t want in the first place. Really only got because his dad wanted him to get a part time job as punishment for not getting into college. Following Robin after the mall blew up. It was all just stops on a train that he was given the ticket to.

Now he switched trains on his own accord. Went in a different direction. One that he chose because he wanted it. Sounded like a life he wanted to live. Sounded like there were other passengers on the train that might get off at the same destination. Want to spend time with him as they traveled. Get to know him. Maybe even love him.

And that’s what happened. He still doesn’t know how, or why. What to do with it. But he’s learning to.

If anyone were to ask him what he was going to do with this life he has now, with the winnings, he wouldn’t know. He doesn’t know what he wants to do tomorrow let alone in the next five years. The picture he has in his head looks the same as it is now. Happy with everyone he loves around him, looking exactly the same.

But that’s not what’s going to happen.

The kids are going to grow up, change, go off to school. Julie will too, leaving his house empty again. Robin will eventually go to a school that can give her more than a community college can. People in the town will continue to outgrow it.

While Steve continues to stay in the same spot forever. Rooted in the same place that hurt him so much. The same place that helped him grow into someone he’s actually proud of. Showed him the life he could have if he was just brave enough to go and catch it.

Now that he has it, it’s all he’s ever wanted. He’s not ready to let it go quite yet.

“Do you think you could teach me how to drive?” Julie asks Steve over dinner.

Steve freezes in shock, head shooting up to look at her. “Yeah, sure, I guess.”

He’s known her less than a year but the question still makes him feel so old. Feeling like he watched her grow up as she went through so many changes. So many emotions. Slowly formed into the person she is now right in front of him.

“Cool.” Julie says, going back to her dinner.

Steve wonders how long she’s been wanting to learn how to drive. She’s been able to for over a year now, just never got around to it. With the nature of her mother’s accident, he wasn’t sure when she would want to ever learn. If she would want to.

“Is there a reason you wanted to learn?” He asks, trying to sound nonchalant.

Julie shrugs. “Just haven’t yet. And I’ve been thinking about maybe getting a part time job, saving to try and get a car of my own before I go to college. I know it’s still a year away, but cars are expensive and minimum wage is shit.”

College. Something he knew was coming but was hoping it could be a little farther away. He wonders if this is how every parent feels. Wishing their kid would just stay in one place for a little while longer and stop growing. Stop changing. So they don’t have to change with them.

He’s not a parent. Not yet, and not for a long while. But he can’t help but feel some sort of protective instinct over these kids that changed his life. Want to look out for them in every situation, make sure that nothing ever hurts them. He knows that’s not how life is supposed to go. Kids are supposed to make mistakes and learn from them. That’s the way it went for him, so it’s the way it will go for them.

He just didn’t want it to.

“I don’t know why you’re so worked up about this,” Robin comments while unboxing the newest releases. “We all knew this day would come someday.”

Steve sighs, leaning on the door of the stock room. “I just wanted that someday to take longer to actually get here. It’s like the last few years went by so fast and got so muddled in my mind that I forgot time kept moving.”

“I get that. But,” she places the last tape on the cart and turns to him, “just because the kids are getting older, doesn’t mean that they’re leaving.”

They are in a way, though. Even though he knows that won’t be permanent. That they won’t forget about him the way other people have, it still makes the anxiety trapped in his chest start to rise. The instinct to hold on tight and never let go so much stronger.

“This town is too small for them. We both know that. They are going to go do amazing things, while I’m still here doing the same mediocre things I always do.” He holds the door open for her as she rolls the cart through.

“Have you ever thought about doing other things?”

Steve pauses in front of the cart, making Robin run into him. “What?”

“You’re acting like you can’t do other things. If you hate what you’re doing right now, try something different. No one’s forcing you to do the same thing you were doing yesterday.”

She pivots the cart to move around him, leaving him with thoughts he’s honestly been scared to think about.

Steve’s made a routine for himself. Go to work, pick up the kids, drive them around, go home. Live a life that he enjoys and work a job that he kind of hates. Follow his best friend wherever she goes because he’ll love whatever it is.

Was it what he thought he’d be doing with his life, no. Is it something he wanted to do the rest of his life? He doesn’t want to answer that question. The rest of his life was uncertain for the longest time. Each year testing the strength of his body and his mind. Making it feel like tomorrow was some bright future he may never get to see.

It was easy to get so stuck in the present when the future seemed like it would never come. Now that it is, Steve is scared to figure out what it is. What it means for him.  

“Look,” Robin continues, knowing exactly how he’s feeling. “I’m not saying you have to pick what you want to do right now. Or tomorrow, or the day after that. I’m just saying that if you really hate doing this,” she waves towards the shelves, “then you can start thinking about what you would want to do instead. There is still so much time for you to figure it all out.”

Time is something Steve’s learning how to deal with. But Robin’s right. Maybe it’s finally the right moment to think about what he can do with it.

. . .

“That is so exciting,” El exclaims when Julie tells her that Steve is going to teach her how to drive. “You will be the first one of us to learn how to drive.”

“Well, that’s actually Max,” Lucas corrects. “She learned how to drive a while ago.”

“Yeah poorly,” Mike adds. “And only in a parking lot.”

Max rolls her eyes. “I drove in the street that one time.”

“And almost got us killed.”

“Scared Steve shitless.” Dustin laughs.

“Scared all of us shitless.”

“Not me,” Lucas defends. I wasn’t scared.”

Dustin snorts. “So that wasn’t your high-pitched scream then?”

Lucas kicks him under the table.

El turns to Max. “When did you drive?”

Max motions for El to get closer and whispers it into her ear. Just another reminder that Julie has no idea what they are talking about. Another inside joke that she’ll never understand. El takes a second to be shocked before bursting out into giggles.

When the bell rings, Max stops Julie before she can walk away. “Hey, could you help me bring my stuff to my next class. El has a test today so she can’t do it.”

Julie shrugs. “Yeah, sure.”

She picks up Max’s backpack and carries it in front of her. Following after Max as she yells at the groups of seniors who like to stand in the hallway and block everyone’s path.

“So, you and El have gotten pretty close, yeah?” Max asks way too casually than she should for such a loaded question. And in the middle of the hallway.

“I mean we’re friends, right,” Julie tries to play it cool. Especially since to El, this is all they are.

Max stops, turning her chair to Julie and giving her a look that tell her to cut the shit. “That’s not what I meant.”

“I don’t really want to talk about this here.”

She barely wants to talk about it at all. The hatred for herself slowly turning into guilt that churns her stomach each time she looks at El. Knowing that she’s feeling something that she shouldn’t. Almost asking El for something that she can’t give. Wishing that this feeling could go away and they could just go back to being normal friends. Without all this complicated shit.

“That’s fair.” Max resumes rolling down the hallway, stopping in front of her classroom and reaching out to take the bag from Julie. “Your house after school then?”

“You’re not going to let this go, are you?” Julie wishes she would.

“El’s my best friend. Of course I’m not.”

The school day ends, and they go over to her house. She sits next to Max in her room like it’s some interrogation. Waiting for her to be the first to speak. Not wanting to share too much too fast.

“You know, El’s probably going to be pissed when she figures out that we hung out without her,” Max finally breaks the silence.

Julie huffs out a laugh. “Yeah, probably.”

The thing about actually having a crush, Julie realizes, is that it’s so special to have one. Like a little secret that she and only a few other people know. This special little feeling that, at the end of the day, brings her so much joy to have. Even though it’s terrifying. It’s a good terrifying.

“I was really happy when El became friends with you so fast,” Max continues. “I love the guys, but she needed someone else who knew how to take it down a notch. Someone calmer. Someone like you.”

Her lips can’t help but turn into a soft smile. “Really?”

“Yeah,” Max nods. “I think we all needed that too. Life has been crazy the last few years and it’s been nice to have someone to remind us that life doesn’t always have to be tied to that. Especially for El.”

“What do you mean?”

Max takes a deep breath, shifting the pillow behind her. “There’s a lot that I can’t tell you, and there’s stuff that I don’t even really know. None of us do. She wouldn’t tell us all of it. But you know how El is adopted right?”

Julie nods.

“I, uh, don’t know how much of this she wanted me to tell you. Just that she didn’t want to do it herself so bear with me here. Before she was adopted, El was in a really bad home. If that’s what you could even call it. And a lot of really terrible things happened there that none of us like to talk about. She escaped from there one night and eventually got adopted by Hopper.”

Julie remembers that night she stayed at the Byers after they got kicked out of the house. How she told El about the fourth of July when the mall burnt down, and she saw all those people walking to their death. The face El made after she said it. Looking determined as all hell and older than she needed to be. Like a switch in her mind flipped and she was a totally different person than Julie knew her to be.

How horrible her life must have been to take the joy out of her face so fast. To turn defense mode on in a way that made her look like a soldier.

“That’s terrible,” are the only words Julie can think to say.

Max nods, looking down at her hands. “Yeah, it is. This is the same place, same people, that are responsible for a lot of the bad things that happened in this town. They worked at the Hawkins lab.”

“Shit,” Julie sighs, leaning back against her wall.

“Yeah, shit.”

The room fills with silence.

“Why are you telling me all of this now?”

“Because I’ve never seen El open up to a person as fast as she has with you. It took a long time for her to open up to me, and sure there were other things in the way that stopped that, but I’m talking right as we became friends. We were close, but not you guys close.”

Julie can’t imagine Max and El being different from the way they are now. The soft interactions full of a trust that looked so natural. Like they had been friends for a lifetime, fully comfortable around one another.

“And I’m starting to notice, and please tell me if this is out of line, that you might be thinking about El differently than I think about El.”

Julie wonders if this is the time where it isn’t taken well. That someone tells her that this is the worst thing that she could do. Having a crush on a friend could break relationships. She didn’t want to break this one.

“I do,” she finally says to Max. Ready for the berating to start.

Instead, Max nods with resignation. “I think El does too.”

The room starts to buzz as Julie’s heart starts to pick up. “What?”

“She hasn’t, like, told me anything. And she’s probably going to hate me for telling you this at all. But I want to protect her and protect you too and this weird waiting period is really awkward for me, and I’d rather just get to the point where I’m third wheeling.”

“I’m sorry,” Julie interrupts her, still trying to wrap her head around the idea that there’s a possibility that El might like her back. “You think El likes me?”

Max raises her eyebrow. “Have you seen the way she’s been acting around you? Complimenting you every day, clipping your hair back, giggling at literally every joke you say. No offense but that’s a little excessive, your jokes aren’t always that funny.”

Moments start to replay in Julie’s mind. Having been so focused on the way she’s been acting, that she didn’t even notice the way El’s behavior around her changed. How she interacted with Julie just different enough from the rest of the group for it to be significant. For it to be special.

She remembers shrinking in on herself when she knew El was looking at her for longer than she should. Thinking that it was because Julie was making her feel uncomfortable. Never because she could have been doing the same thing Julie has been doing this whole time. Admiring in secret.

“I didn’t notice.”

Max groans. “Of course you didn’t. Neither of you did. It’s like Will and Mike not realizing that they’re into each other. Do you know how frustrating it is to know that your friends like each other but they’re too stupid to do anything about it.”

“Oh my god, you noticed the Will and Mike thing too, I thought that was just me.”

“Don’t try and change the subject. You like El, and I think El likes you. What are you going to do about it?”

Julie winces. “Is nothing an option?”

Max grabs Julie’s arm. “You are driving me crazy. Ask her out or some shit.”

“What if it doesn’t work out?” Julie says, full of fear. “What if I mess up and then I lose all of you guys. I already feel like an outsider sometimes when you guys start talking about the things I don’t know about. I’m the friend that everyone would be ok to lose if this doesn’t work out.”

A few beats pass before Max starts to speak. “Ok, one, you are not the friend that everyone would be ok to lose. You have integrated yourself into the group more than you think you have. Second, you are so focused on a relationship that you haven’t even started yet. Life’s too short to have regret for the steps you didn’t take. Believe me, I know.”

Max wraps her arms around her leg, shifting it to a better position. Inadvertently reminding Julie of the things that have happened the past few years. The events she was just a bystander to, never fully experiencing what happened. When they did, somehow. She still wished she kind of knew.

But maybe Max was right. Maybe Julie could take the risk. Ask El on a date. Hope that it would work out, and that she wouldn’t regret it later. What would she regret more? Asking, or forever wondering how it would have turned out had she not.

. . .

July 1987

The room is blurry as Steve comes into consciousness. The bright lights giving him a headache, and the taste of copper resting on is tongue. His one eye can’t open that well, almost swollen shut. His wrists burn against rope as he twists them. Trying to get them apart.

His good eye blinks, focusing on a pair of black boots in front of him. Raising his head, he meets the scowling face of the Russian officer. Hearing words spoken in a language he doesn’t understand to the other man in the room.

“Ah, he’s awake,” The Russian slurs in English. Stepping forward and looking down at Steve. Menacing.

“Let me go,” Steve begs. “I don’t know anything.”

The officer grabs his hair, pulling his head back to look at him. Steve’s tempted to spit in his face.

“I am only going to ask you this again. Who do you work for?”

Steve can’t help but let out a sad laugh. Knowing he won’t be awake for much longer. “I already told you. I work at Scoops.”

The ringing in his ears starts when his cheek burns. Vision blurring again. He straightens his head, panting to try and get the air back into his lungs. Only for it to leave as the officer hits him again. Always the right side of his head. It hurts so much it’s almost numb.

“No, no, no,” Steve pleads as the officer winds up again. Blood pooling in his mouth with the next collision. He spits on the group. “I work at Scoops,” he screams with as much breath he can muster.

The world goes dark again.

Steve wakes with a scream. The surroundings not matching that of his cell. A weight around his torso preventing him from getting up. He rips the blankets off of him, pulling the weight off and throwing it away. Cursing as his feet can’t kick off the sheets. Can’t get free.

Tears are streaming down his face as he struggles. His hands free. The rope burn stinging his skin. His torso itches like crazy. Like small little bites stabbing into his skin. He needs to find Robin. Needs to see if she’s ok.

“Steve,” a voice says to him. How do they know his same? Did he tell it to them? What are they going to do to him now.

He still struggles with the blanket, finally pulling his feet free. Attempting to get off the bed and search for anything as a weapon. This place isn’t the cell he was in before. They must have moved him when he was knocked out.

“Steve,” the voice says again. Sitting up on the bed and starting to move towards him.

Steve flinches from the touch, raising his fists. Ready to strike them first this time. His heart is beating in his ears, the constant ringing in his right only amplified. Adrenaline pumping through his veins.

He needs to get out of here.

A light clicks on. Illuminating the room he’s in. It doesn’t look like a cell. It looks like a bedroom. Have they constructed this just to give him a false sense of security?”

“It was just a dream, Steve.” The man gets out of the bed, taking a cautious step towards Steve. Hands outstretched to block any punches Steve might throw.

Steve wasn’t the threat here. He was just trying to protect himself.

“Can you tell me three things you notice about this room?” The man cautiously spins them around, clicking on another lamp in the room.

The bare walls reflect the light, the soft yellow so different from the blaring white. The walls a tan instead of white or grey. It looks so familiar, but Steve’s mind is so confused. The tears continue to stream down his face as he tries to figure out where he is.

“I work at Scoops,” Steve stutters.

“I know you do.” The man replies quickly. “I believe you.”

More tears. Steve’s hands lower. They know now. Does that mean he’s free to go?

“Tell me three things you see,” he repeats. So soft it makes Steve want to crumble.

“A bed,” he whispers. “A nightstand. A lamp.”

The man takes another step forward. Coming into more clarity. Brown curls fall onto his shoulders. He looks nothing like the Russians.

“Good. Anything else?”

“There’s a picture on the nightstand. The bed has blue sheets. There’s a poster on the wall.”

Eddie places a gentle hand on Steve’s shoulder, he flinches before leaning into it. Closing his eyes and trying to focus on the touch. Letting it ground him.

There’s a knock on the door. Steve’s eyes fly open again as he whips his head to look. Heartbeat increasing again.

“Take a seat, sweetheart, I’ll get it.”

Steve freezes, unable to move. He’s directed toward the bed, somehow, he sits down. Knuckles clenched into white.

“Are you guys ok,” he hears a soft voice say. “I heard screaming.”

Eddie doesn’t open the door more than a small crack. “Yeah, we’re fine. I got this, you can go back to bed.”

The door shuts with a small click. Eddie returning to Steve. Sits next to him as the adrenaline fades. Leaving his body exhausted and his mind still searching for explanations.

“Can you tell me what year it is, Steve?”

He shakes his head.

“It’s July second, 1987. You survived them, Steve. Everyone did.”

A sob escapes his throat. His body collapsing into himself. Curling up as the energy releases. He’s wrapped into a hug and pulled further into the bed. Being protected while he falls apart.

Steve wakes up again a few hours later. Gets out of bed and into a routine. Takes a shower, gets dressed, makes himself breakfast. Goes through the motions of a normal morning.

The front door closes quietly. Eddie and Robin coming into the house. Sitting with Steve at the table.

“I took Julie to school, that’s why I wasn’t here,” Eddie explains. “I told Robin what happened.”

Robin looks down at the table, biting at her lip. “Tomorrow marks two year since-.”

Steve looks at his coffee. “Yeah, I know.”

“I can’t believe it’s been that long. It feels so close yet a lifetime away.”

“It was like I was back there. Even when I woke up.” Steve takes a deep breath. “I thought it was going to be better this year.”

Robin’s hand finds his, her fingers shaking. “Me too.”

They find themselves curled up on the couch for the rest of the day. Eddie there just to make sure they’re both ok. The house quiet except for the low volume on the tv. Lights off so they don’t flicker. Robin’s fingers pressed into Steve’s wrist to feel his pulse. His arm holding her close, proving that she’s there.

They made it out of there. They’re both alive. He wishes that their minds would stop trying to tell them otherwise.

. . .

Julie walks into a dark house. Steve and Robin asleep on the couch with Eddie awkwardly sitting next to them. Looking out of place. She wants to ask about what she heard last night. How she heard the screams from across the hall.

Eddie gets up when he notices her. Motions for her to meet him in Steve’s bedroom. Shuts the door gently behind them before turning on the light.

“You probably have a few questions about last night.”

Julie nods. “Is he ok?”

Eddie runs a hand down his face. “Physically, yeah, he’s fine. But other than that, he will be. This week is an anniversary of something for him. He was reminded of that last night.”

“The mall fire,” Julie fills in. “I know that they were there that night.”

“Do you know why?”

Julie shakes her head. No one would tell her more when she asked.

Eddie nods, crossing his arms and swaying on the balls of his feet. “I’m not sure if I’m allowed to tell you what happened. I don’t even know the full of it.”

She thought Steve told him everything. “It was bad, wasn’t it?”

“Yes. It’s the reason Steve can’t hear well in his right ear anymore. And the reason he gets really bad PTSD attacks. Like the one he had last night.”

“And that’s why,” she tilts her head to the door. Knowing that Steve and Robin tangled together in the living room.

“She was there too.” Eddie looks at the door. Pain painting his face. “A part of me wishes I knew what really happened to them so I could help. But they already relive this pain more than they should, they don’t need to do it again just to fill me in.”

Julie pauses before asking the question that’s been on her mind since the first time she heard screams through the walls. Wonders if there’s a part of her that really wants to know. Or if this is just morbid curiosity. But there were memories of her own that haunt her. Placing her back into moments of her life with things left unexplained.

She cares about these people. It hurts to know that they are in pain. And if she could help, know how to help them through the panic or PTSD attacks, she thinks it’s important enough to know.

“Do you think you could tell me what you know,” she asks softly. “Or at least what you do to help calm him down. I think it would be good for me to be prepared in case it happens and you or Robin aren’t here.”

Eddie presses his lips together. “I’ll do the second one, not the first. As much as he doesn’t want to talk about it, it’s not my story to tell.”

“That’s fair.”

Eddie tells her what he does to calm Steve down when it gets really bad. How with the panic attacks, it’s good to count with him while he breaths. And if he’s willing, grab his hands to help ground him. Tell him about what’s in the room. How it’s different than the pictures in his mind. More things kind of all based on that.

Julie takes it all in, making a mental list in her mind, hoping she doesn’t forget it. Hoping that if it ever happens, she won’t mess it up. Saddened by the fact that this is Steve’s reality.

. . .

A few days pass since Steve’s reality morphed with his nightmares. The date crossed out on his calendar far enough away that it’s finally starting to sink in. Steve made it out of there two years ago. Yet it still affects him like it was yesterday.

Just like back then, life moves on. He goes to work and comes home. Gets weird thinking of the future, and what that means for him. How each milestone will pass, the anniversary of dates coming and going. Affecting him in more ways than he realizes. Until he’s waking in a cold sweat and his body is transported back into his past selves. Some fucked up time travel.

His mind stays fixated on that night. How long it took for his brain to recognize Eddie’s face. To differentiate the safety of his home with the danger of his interrogation cell. How dangerous it could have been.

Eddie told him that Julie has asked about it. How he didn’t say anything, but did tell her ways to help him through an attack. It’s something he never thought of before. Out of all the possibilities that run through his mind, the thought of her being present for one of the attacks never crossed. He never thought she would be there for one of them.

But she almost was. If Eddie hadn’t been there, it would have been Steve opening the door. He didn’t want her to see him like that. He didn’t want the monsters in his head to meld her into something she wasn’t.

She wasn’t a part of this life, he wanted to keep it that way. But Steve has never really gotten what he wished for. It was time to tell her the parts he could.

No one wants to hear about the truth. They don’t want to know the dangers that rest beneath their feet. Blissfully ignorant and wanting to stay that way. Ignorance, however, can hurt sometimes. He didn’t want it to hurt her.

When Julie gets home from school, Steve asks her to sit in the kitchen. Takes the seat across from her and starts to lay out everything. How this conversation can’t leave the room, and she’s never to let anyone know that he told her this.

“This is about Starcourt, isn’t it?” She asks somewhere in the middle of his warnings. “Why all those people walked straight to their death.”

“How did you know about that?” Steve knew that people must have seen it, but it was kept out of the news.

Julie tells him about the night she went looking for her mom. How she got caught in the crowd of people walking toward the mall. Saw the names of people she knew flicker on the tv screen the next morning.

Steve tells her more than he should. About how Will going missing five years ago was a catalyst to so much more. How he got roped into everything. Skipping the bit in the middle for the most part, focusing on how Max came into it all. Then gets to the Russians.

Tells her the story of an innocent mystery turned terrifying nightmare. The interrogation that thankfully didn’t end in his death. Fireworks that crashed into the monster the size of a building and crashing a car into a possessed maniac. All of it ending in burning red, leaving the survivors to cope with their loss.

She’s taking it better than he thought she would. And he hasn’t even said everything yet. Just barely gets to spring break before Julie is pulling him into a hug. Until he realizes the wetness of his cheeks.

“I’m so sorry,” she chokes. “I am so sorry you had to live through that.”

He doesn’t finish telling her everything. It’s probably a good thing. The NDA’s aren’t as loose as the ones from a few years ago. And it’s better for her to process this and maybe learn the rest later. If she wants to. If he wants to explain it all again.

. . .

“Alright, now turn on the blinker and slowly hit the gas again,” Steve instructs as Julie sits at a stop sign. No one else around.

It’s been a few weeks since she’s started learning how to drive. Slowly easing into it in random parking lots while no one is there. Learning where all the signals were, and basic traffic laws. Most of it was review, but she didn’t mind the practice.

She pushes on the gas, jerking the car into motion. Pulling away from the parking lot and onto the street. For the first time. Julie is driving on the road.

“Ok, good. Just try not to hit the gas so hard next time.”

Steve’s been an ok teacher. Patient for the most part but gets frustrated when he can’t explain something properly. But he hasn’t gotten angry at her yet. Carefully corrects her but makes sure she knows that she’s doing ok. That she’s starting to get this right.

Julie pulses the gas. Learning how to keep the speed of the road. Overcorrecting when she gets too close to the yellow lines. The overcorrecting again when she gets close to tree line.

It’s scary driving something so large. So powerful. Hearing how the engine revs each time she pushes her foot down too hard. Feeling the pull of the seatbelt against her chest as she hits the breaks too fast.

But she’s getting it. Adjusting herself as she gets used to the feel of the petals beneath her feet. Loosens her body as she gets more comfortable gripping the steering wheel. As she gets used to the size of the car and the way it moves.

“Great. You’re doing really great, Julie. How about we turn here and-.”

A deer jumps in front of the car.

Julie slams on the breaks as she swerves close to the trees. The car coming mere inches from the trunk. Her arms shaking as they grip the wheel.

It all can happen so fast.

Steve unbuckles his seatbelt, turning towards her. “Julie, take a breath ok.”

One wrong move and the hood of the car would be curved around the tree. The airbag would be in her face.

“Just take a breath, we’re ok.”

What if her foot had slipped as she pushed down on the breaks? What if her hands fumbled the turn? Would the deer have contacted the car? Would she have killed it?

“You followed your instincts. We’re ok. That’s all that matters. We’re ok.”

Was this what it was like right before her mom’s crash? Did a deer just jump in front of the car? Her foot missing the break as she slammed into a tree. As it crashes just right to take her life. Was this mistake so easy to make that Julie almost made it too?

“Julie,” Steve touches her shoulder, comforting her. “It’s ok. Take all the time you need.”

Julie unbuckles her seatbelt and bolts out of the car. Runs to the wood as bile stings her tongue. Let’s the adrenaline out onto the dirt as she crashes. As the air escapes from her lungs.

Steve’s beside her rubbing her back. Saying something but it doesn’t register. Too stuck in her head to think of anything else.

“I’m sorry,” slips out of her mouth. Not sure of what else to say.

“Don’t be. It was just an accident, it happens all the time.”

Tears start to make their way out of her eyes. “But I didn’t see it. I could’ve. I could’ve crashed the car. Or worse and.” Sharp, shaky breaths interrupt her sentences.

Steve turns her to look at him. “Julie, hey. Look at me.” She does. “Take a deep breath, ok.”

He counts as she forces herself to breath in. She holds it, feeling the beat of her heart in her lungs. Releases it. Does it again.

“I didn’t see the deer either,” Steve admits once she calms down a little. “Something must have scared it, and it ran into the road. And you did a good job avoiding it.”

She doesn’t feel like it was a good job. “It all happened so fast.”

The tears continue to stream down her face. The feeling of the break pressed into the bottom of her foot. Throbbing. Her shoulder stinging from the pull of the seatbelt. The feeling of it all finally registering.

Her forehead hurts. Something is dripping down in between her eyes. She reaches up and swipes away blood. The buzz coming back to her veins.

“Fuck,” she mutters, eyes glued to her hand.

Steve gets up and comes back with a small first aid kit. Wiping away the blood with some napkins and pressing them against her forehead. Waiting for the bleeding to stop.

She doesn’t even remember her head hitting the steering wheel.

They sit in silence while Steve cleans the cut. Julie wincing when the alcohol wipe hits her broken skin. Steve finds a small piece of gauze and tapes it to her forehead. Packing up the first aid kit and returning to just sitting next to her.

“We’ll sit here as long as you want to, then I’ll drive us home,” he says.

Drive. Julie doesn’t know how she can sit in the car again. Knowing how easy it is for it all to fail.

“It all happened so fast,” she says again. Fixated on it.

“Yeah, yeah it did.” Steve’s trying to stay strong but she can see the shock in his actions too.

“Was it that fast when,” a lump forms in her throat. “When she? When my mom?”

Steve realizes what she’s talking about, starting to open and close his mouth. Trying to find something to say.

“I,” he starts. “I don’t know.”

“That’s all I could think about.” She looks at him. “All I can think about is how I could almost have died just like her. One wrong move and I-. And we-.”

Steve grabs her arms, looking her dead in the eyes. “Hey,” he says softly. “It’s ok. Whatever could have happened, it doesn’t matter right now. What matters is that we’re here, and we’re safe. You got shocked and followed your instincts. And because of that, we’re both ok.”

Ok normally doesn’t feel like this. But she tries, really tries to listen to his words.

“I know none of this is going to stop the what ifs in your mind. Believe me, I know. But those what ifs are not going to change what happened. It’s important to remember that.”

She knows he’s right. But it’s so hard to keep her mind on track. Letting it off rail to the ends of possibilities. Wondering if there was ever one where there was never an almost crash to begin with.

“Let’s go home. Get an icepack on that head and make sure it’s ok before you go to sleep. Ok?”

Slowly, Julie nods. “Ok.”

She gets in the car. Buckling the seat belt and tugging it to make sure it locked. Steve gets in the driver’s seat and readjusts it and the mirrors before slowly pulling away. The almost accident fading as she stares in the sideview mirror.

It was just an accident. It can happen to anyone. It just had to happen to her.

Tag list(let me know if you want to be added or removed): @homoerotictangerine, @mugloversonly, @thesuninyaface, @imyelenasexual, @anaibis,

@ilovecupcakesandtea, @brainsteddielyrotted, @jackiemonroe5512, @eddie-munsons-missing-nipple, @goodolefashionedloverboi,

@cinnamon-mushroomabomination, @lolawonsstuff, @writingandmushroomdragons, @stevesbipanic, @sierra-violet,

@steddie-as-they-go, @dauntlessdiva, @mousedetective, @the-daydreamer-in-the-corner, @zombiethingy,

@connected-dots-st-reblogger, @that-agender-from-pluto, @allyricas, @cheddartreets, @devondespresso,

@crypticcorvidinacottage, @queenie-ofthe-void @chronicpainstevetruther, @melonmochi

[seramilla]

So idea for human au at some point the apartment they live in gets flooded or becomes unlivable some other way. While it’s getting fixed they have to go live somewhere else luckily Carmilla is more than willing to take both of them in. She is spending this time trying to win over Sera and make her want to come back and stay with her permanently as well as get Sera to go out with her.

If anything positive is to be gleaned from this, Sera is glad, at least, that she'd bought the renter's insurance. The furniture, the appliances, the food they lost when the power went out -- all those things can be replaced. But the photos and precious memories that were ruined when the tepid water had soaked into their photo albums and Sera's only computer...they can't get any of that back. Sera will be lucky if her hard drive isn't completely waterlogged. She laughs, because if she doesn't, she'll cry and never stop.

But Emily is safe. Sera is safe. No one get electrocuted when about a foot of water, almost two, started gathering in their basement apartment overnight during some recent flooding. The worst event their small town had seen in at least 20 years. Sera tries to feel grateful for the little things. It's the only way she'll get through this with some semblance of her sanity intact.

Insurance can replace their things, but finding a place to stay for the next several days, or weeks, until management can get rid of the water and make repairs is what's plaguing Sera's mind at the moment. She tries to be strong for Emily, because the little girl had been scared, too. Emily is so strong -- much stronger than her, most often these days -- and Sera doesn't ever let her see Sera cry, but she does a lot of that in private, when her sister isn't looking.

Carmilla calls them the evening after, out of the blue, once she and Emily have settled into their hotel. It's roach and springtail infested, and the bedsheets feel like sandpaper to Sera's sensitive skin, but it's a roof over their heads, so she can't complain. Sera wonders how Carmilla had heard of their plight, and then she remembers -- of course, Emily probably told Odette and Clara that day at school.

"Carmilla, hi," Sera manages to say, trying to keep the tiredness and stress out of her voice when she answers her cell phone.

"Sera...the girls told me what happened at your place. I'm so sorry. Are you okay?"

Sera curls up into the fetal position on the bed, cell phone shoved against her ear and rough fabric of the pillow. Emily dozes softly beside her. It's been a long day for both of them.

"We're okay. These things happen," Sera says. It is definitely not okay. Sera is having a really hard time believing her own words coming out of her mouth.

Carmilla knows when she's lying. "Why don't I believe you?"

"You don't need to worry about us." Sera really wants Carmilla to worry about them. "We're safe. Staying at a hotel tonight."

"...For how long?" The brief pause before Carmilla's question signals that the matriarch is not at all happy about this news.

"A few days. Maybe a week." Sera lies again.

Carmilla calls her out for it.

"Sera...you know you can tell me if you need help, right?" Carmilla tries to nudge at Sera softly with her words. It hits at a very tender place in Sera's heart; one she didn't realize she had until she met this woman. "You know I care...very much about you and Emily."

"I know. I know you do. But Carmilla...I don't want you to feel obligated to solve all our problems. Emily is...my responsibility. Not yours. We appreciate all you do for us...but..."

"But what?"

"It just doesn't feel right. I feel like I'm taking advantage of you."

The silence stretches for several moments longer. Sera can't even hear the sound of the other woman breathing on the other end of the line, until Carmilla speaks again, and puts a stop to any further protests from Sera.

"You're not taking advantage of me. I want to help. Why don't you and Emily stay with us? The insurance company doesn't have to know."

"What? But--"

"You don't have to, if you don't want to," Carmilla adds, giving Sera a way out, if she chooses not to accept her offer. "But like I said...I hope you know by now how...sincere my feelings are for you, and your sister. You're always welcome here. I would like it very much if you would stay...for however long you need to. Or forever."

Sera's face flushes several shades of pink, and her neck gets hot. A lump forms in her throat, and she swallows it, until it thunks heavily somewhere in the vicinity of her heart. She's speechless. Tries several times to form words with her jumbled brain. Her body feels catatonic by Carmilla's words. She knew Carmilla had feelings for her...but she didn't know how deep it went.

"Really?" she asks, still dumbfounded. "Are you sure?"

"Of course, I'm sure. I don't say things I don't mean. I want you both here. If it's what you both want, too."

The fact that Carmilla is also keeping Emily's feelings in the equation tugs at Sera's heart in a completely different, unique sort of way than it had earlier.

"Umm...thank you. Can I...can we...think about it tonight?" Sera asks. She doesn't think Carmilla's offer has an expiration date...but this is a big change. She wants to talk it over, with Emily. Her sister deserves a say in all this, too.

"Of course. Take all the time you need. My door is always open. The girls would love having you here, too, if it's any consolation."

"It is...thank you, Carmilla."

"You're welcome, mi querida. Goodnight."

"Good night, Carmilla."

Sera hangs up and lies there with the phone against her cheek for several moments longer, pretending in her mind's eye that the heat emitting from the little device is actually the warmth of Carmilla's hand against her face. She can pretend that Carmilla's lying here next to her, holding her, telling her everything will be okay...

She'll talk to Emily the next morning. Sera's pretty certain what her little sister will say...so in that sense, their minds are already made up. She sets her alarm on her phone, and quickly falls asleep. Their lives are about to go through a big change in the morning. She needs all the sleep her tired body can get.

[decaydanceredacted]

im back. again. for tboy puppy pete…getting my dick into him as we speak. (nobody is surprised) anyways this is sort of a continuation of my last egregiously long submission i apologize for the brainrot

so like my last anon was super long and more me being weird about bruises than actually fucking pete so. yeah. i’d fuck the living shit out of him on the asphalt i don’t care. it doesn’t have to be pretty. (even though i still think this might just be where he’d be the prettiest (all bruised up with his own cum wetting his inner thighs.)) i don’t wanna be really gentle with him anyway because that would kind of defeat the purpose of us beating the shit out of each other in the first place (even though he was really just in it because it got him horny. so)

i’d barely let him recover from cumming the first time. it’d be kind of cute to watch him struggle to get his brain back on track but it’s not like i’d actually let him get away without taking at least one load, so i’d get my fingers back in there (much slicker this time, still twitching) and start trying to open him up a little. his brain would melt back into a liquid and he’d be arching his back and crying out in seconds. his baseline is “sensitive, needy puppy” and now its exaggerated about one thousand times. poor thing whimpering and stuttering about how it’s ‘too much’ already and he hasn’t even cum twice yet.

i’d keep a hand on his collar for as long as i could. if not to restrain him, then to ground him. i keep it there when i pull my fingers out, and when i replace them with my dick. i need to feel him around me so bad. he’d feel as good as he looks. i’d probably readjust myself to be more directly over top of him, maybe getting him into a position more akin to a mating press (maybe i’d even be nice enough to take off his shoes for him so his pants can go too). i wanna watch him tear up a little and see his lip quivering when i stretch him out. hearing him whine about how it’s too big (it’s definitely not) or about how he’s not gonna last (who cares? not me) or just little jumbled up curses. (i wanna look down and see his stupid womb tattoo just over where my dick would be when i bottom out. maybe press down on it a little with my free hand.)

fucking him would be super overwhelming at first i think (his puppy parts feel so good and he’s so loud and i’ve gotta hold him down and talk him through taking it like a good puppy) but i’d pretty easily quiet him down (make him cum again so he’s forced to stop thinking anything at all for a second). it’d probably only take a couple well timed brushes to his tdick and he’d be stuttering to a stop. (he cums harder than last time. absolutely boneless little puppy hanging off my cock. in a parking lot. so i would definitely mention how anybody could drive by and even though it’s dark out they’d know exactly what was happening.) (it’s honestly taking like 95% of my brain not to call him a stupid puppy literally every chance i get. he’s a stupid puppy)

i wanna fuck him through cumming so bad. watch his jaw drop open and how he’d visibly go blank. nothing in his head but how good he feels. (maybe he weakly tries to extend the feeling (no words to ask me to do it for him) by fucking himself back onto my dick. but at this point he’s definitely too tired for that.) overstimulating him because i need to cum too (and it’s just a bonus to see him try and stop himself from cumming a third time. it’s absolutely useless because he was built to take it like a good puppy.) wanna tell him he’s been such a good boy, that i’m gonna put pups in him as a reward for his efforts.

since pete is such a pretty boy and he’s taken it so well of course i’d keep my word and cum inside him. and then stay inside him (just for a little while because why the hell would i not? he feels good and warm and it’d be so nice to have him under me pressed into the concrete for a little while longer. maybe i need to lesn down and lick the blood off his upper lip. get my tongue in his mouth and give him perhaps the laziest makeout session he’ll ever have. while my dick is still inside him. yeah.)

my brain is absolutely mush right now i need to ruin him so bad Hope you understand.

- ⚙️ gear anon :-)

.

[ghostpepperworld]

I am trying to be nicer.

But god fucking damn I do NOT respond well to being prodded

[kenananamin]

Where did Nanami go?

a small collection of events where the people around nanami wonder if he's been abducted by aliens where they switched his brain after seeing how different he is with you (but they love it and keep hoping to see more) fluff, nanami being the best boyfriend, fluff literally just typed this all in one go and did not edit. lol enjoy!

nanami is the 'i'm not reading all that, im happy for you or im sorry that happened' person to gojo. but you send one long long message to nanami and gojo glaces to nanami's phone and just sees his whole screen covered in one long blue bubble. he asks if you're ok or if he needs to step away to call you but all nanami says is no and starts reading the message. gojo sees nanami read a bit, then types a small reply, presses enter for the next line, reads some more, then another small reply, and repeat. is he replying to every single sentence in your message?!

gojo gets curious so he leans a bit closer to actually see the message. it was not an emergency... but your review and interpretation of the 2009 movie Mother?!

gojo leans back shocked. nanami would never reply to such long messages he'd send. if the message was longer than 4 lines, then nanami might never even reply to it. but he's carefully reading your message as if it was the latest report that would be the difference between life and death in the next fight. he's replying to every single point you're making and are those emojis?!

gojo is floored, truly baffled and entirely speechless.

gojo wonders, what movie can i watch that might interest nanami and get him to reply to me in a message longer than a sentence?

———

gojo and itadori walk out of the school with nanami. it's time for nanami to clock out but gojo and itadori are heading out to try a new restaurant that evening. nanami gets a call at 6:01pm while he's still walking with them and stays back a few steps to answer your call. nosy gojo perks up his ear to listen if nanami's voice changes when he answers your call. it's not too different but gojo swears it did change a bit as if there was a little smile on his face. there was.

you ask nanami if he'd like to join you for dinner at a restaurant after work and nanami just asks for the address and says he's on his way. he excuses himself from the guys and gojo wiggles his eyebrows as nanami says he's got somewhere to be. yuji continues to talk about the last movie he saw that he loved but megumi kept rolling his eyes at.

gojo and yuji get to the restaurant after their leisurely walk and see nanami - wait! nanami setting the table?! they're both shocked bc even though their steps were unhurried, it's not like they took a long time to get to the place. you walk into the restaurant and spot nanami wiping what would be your side of the table with his hand, wiping anything that might have been missed by the cleaning cloth.

"kento!" you smile and jog to the table. he looks up and smiles when he sees you, but the smile drops when he spots the open mouthed gojo and yuji you just passed by. you stop walking and turn to see who or what he's looking at.

gojo snaps out of it and goes to introduce himself to you before leading the group of three to the table that nanami is now standing next to. he had heard about you because he pestered nanami enough to tell him about your existence and your name, and that's really all gojo knew. he asks nanami how he got to the restaurant so quick and nanami blandly replies that you work nearby and he wanted to get there first aka he lightly jogged but gojo didn't need to know that.

nanami was kind of expecting it but it still surprised him a bit when you extend a courteous invitation to gojo and yuji if they'd like to join you both for dinner. what was not a surprise was that gojo immediately sat down. yuji hesitates a bit but you tell the young man to sit and assure it's ok. nanami sighs but decides to just roll with it and goes to slide out your chair so you can sit. gojo and yuji give a quiet 'ooooohh' to the action and nanami just shushes them and sits next to you.

nanami is stiff at first and you notice so you slide your hand to hold his under the table. gojo notices the action though and feels like giggling and kicking his feet for his friend. it still takes a while for nanami to relax a bit but he eventually slumps a bit in his seat and smiles a lot easier after a few drinks w you. gojo and yuji stick to their sodas and nanami is happy to order wine for you both.

gojo and yuji make easy conversation and everyone genuinely has a nice dinner. nanami is ready to say bye to the guys as you finish a conversation with yuji about a show. gojo and yuji excitedly watch you both walk away as nanami keeps a hand on your lower back to lead you down the street then moves to hold your hand. they start giggling out loud, a little too loud, when you step even closer to hold his arm with your other hand and lean your head on his shoulder as you walk back home.

———

yuji excitedly goes to nanami to ask if he can join you guys after work. nanami is confused but yuji tells him to check his phone. you had asked if he wanted to visit an ice cream parlor and bakery with you and that you had asked yuji for the name since he brought up the place at dinner.

“we were talking about the show hannibal and she recommended a movie if i liked that show so i did the same and recommended something. she said she'd let me know what she thought the next time she saw me but i didn't know when that'd be and i think she read my mind so we exchanged emails,” yuji rambles nonchalantly about exchanging information with his girlfriend.

"nanamin, i thought you didn't like sweets?" nanami confirms that he does not care for them but you like them and he always finds another bread or alternative to eat as you eat your sugar-filled dessert.

yuji gives a thumbs up and that the man has his respect. nanami tries to ignore the comment… but the compliment feels nice. what didn’t feel so nice was two other kids attaching themselves to yuji and nanami for the ice cream.

he gets in the car and looks back at nobara, yuji, and megumi through the rearview mirror and hopes you don’t mind these kids attaching themselves like leeches on your date. and you don’t mind, it was nice to finally meet some of the people he’s talk so much about and you liked hearing new stories about him.

you’re getting a couple samples and pass them to nanami once you’ve tasted a bit. he wouldn’t get a full ice cream for himself but he could do samples... and indirect kisses. you read his mind (bc you were thinking the same) and try to flirt and raise your eyebrows at nanami seductively but shy away and start to laugh instead. nanami know what you were trying to do yet again and he finds it endearing every time you do it. he pulls you in from your waist and leans down to kiss your bare shoulder thinking the kids are too busy looking for their own desserts to notice. they were not busy, they were looking and saw it all.

the kids are shocked, nobara is taking notes bc she wants that romantic gesture, yuji wants to cheer him on, and megumi's eyes widen but he wonders just how long nanami's been hiding this side of himiself. all in all, all three kids want to see this side more and start planning ways to go out with you both again.

———

nobara and maki go shopping for some spring clothes and as nobara is talking about a store she saw while maki got an iced coffee she stops in her tracks. nanami is inside the store they were about to pass and he's standing as still as a statue... holding a couple shopping bags in one hand and a purse on his shoulder. maki follows nobara's gaze and chuckles but prepares to walk away. nobara grabs her arm and pulls her into the store but hides behind a rack to keep watching nanami.

you come out of the dressing room in the perfect little black dress and nobara and maki can't help but stare in appreciation and awe. they were impressed by how you looked but even more impressed when nanami took out his phone and took a picture. even from afar, they could tell it was a damn good picture and that that man knew your angles.

———

gojo wants to go to a club. he knows nanami will say no straight up so he starts the conversation with, "hey you know what y/n might like?" gojo tries to sell the club the best he can but nanami just says ok and walks away.

gojo texts nanami later that night to ask (plead) him if he'd want to go and all nanami says is that you both will meet him there. gojo hums as he gets ready and arrives to the club. he sees you and nanami walk into the dark and loud room but immediately notices nanami's black button-up that has the top few buttons opened and no tie, and your little black dress. it's shorter (and honestly sexier) than what gojo imagined you'd wear in an outing with nanami but he has to admit that his pair of friends were a damn wonder to look at. he discreetly takes a photo of you two and sends it to nanami. it becomes nanami's favorite photo.

gojo compliments both of you and you thank him saying you had told nanami he'd look great with that simple button-up and gojo agrees. nanami blushes a bit at your compliment. gojo asks about your dress and you laugh recalling when you were getting ready. you had asked nanami if you could wear the dress since you weren't sure if it was too short and he just nodded and basically said 'dress slutty, i can fight' (not in those exact words but that's how you registered it and you fell even more in love with the man). nanami really did not care about what you wore, he would definitely voice if something was not appropriate but he has not said anything about any of your clothes since you've met. gojo couldn't even laugh at nanami's response to your question, he was impressed and turns to nanami to give a thumbs up (and writes that down to use later).

———

all the students sit with nanami and gojo in the cafeteria. they're sitting around waiting for their meal after their mission when nanami remembers that he promised to call you after he was done. he had accidentally let it slip that the mission seemed dangerous and you asked if he could spare a moment after the mission to call or text you to make sure he was fine.

he excuses himself and gojo faintly hears your voice before his friend fully walks out of the cafeteria for his call. immediately after nanami leaves, the students huddle closer to the table and start talking about you. gojo is kind of shocked by the student's reactions but they all look at him and in their own way talk about how much they like you for nanami. a cold and serious man has the embodiment of bubblegum on his arm and they loved it. gojo joins his giggling students and nanami waits a moment outside the cafeteria door to listen to his team rave about you before walking back in with a light blush on his cheeks.

[a11eya]

TITLE: do you still think about me?

PAIRING: Bakugou Katsuki x Reader

SUMMARY: Okay, so you had the biggest, most embarrassing crush on Bakugou when you were both in high school. He was kind of your first love, if you believe in those kinds of things. But you got over it. It's fine.

You see Bakugou sometimes at hangouts, at get-togethers. He's in your orbit, or you're in his, because of your mutual friends. You're all adults now, so it's fine. It's a little weird, but fine.

You're supposed to be on vacation, at a place that's hours away from Musutafu. You're not sure what you've done to deserve it, but Bakugou's here too. And instead of both of you pretending the other doesn't exist, as usual, he's talking to you. He's everywhere. It's fine.

(It's not fine.)

TAGS: pro hero Bakugou Katsuki, aged-up characters, friends to lovers (being generous with that friends label lol), fluff, pining, eventual smut

STATUS: Completed; 1 of 3

NAVIGATION: Series Masterlist

The ryokan’s lobby is bustling, voices a soft buzz echoing through the space. Some guests are like you, waiting for check-in, and other guests are partaking in the complimentary drinks and snack bar. It all calls to mind vacations you went on with your family, growing up. 

Sighing, you sink into an armchair, letting the fatigue from a long trip on a train and subsequent car ride sink in, shed off. 

“Here,” Rie says, setting a cup of tea and a cookie on the table in front of you. She sits in the chair across from you. “You’re grumpy because you haven’t had any sugar today. Eat these. There’s more up front, at the snack bar.” 

“Thanks mom,” you say, and she leans forward to flick you on the forehead. You wince. 

“Just because we’re friends doesn’t mean you can get away with your sass. Especially while we’re on vacation,” she tells you, then lifts her own cup of tea to her lips. You scrunch your face up at her. 

Her eyes flick past you, and she blinks rapidly. You recognize that expression—up to no good. 

“Oh hey,” she says, affecting a casual tone. “Look who just walked in.” 

Rie waits for you to look, but you’re not so easily led around. You narrow your eyes at her. She raises a brow at you. A moment passes. 

Your curiosity’s too strong. You turn and regret it. 

It’s Bakugou. Bakugou Katsuki. What the hell is he doing here?

You immediately swing back around, scowling deeply. You can feel your ears getting warm. 

She gives you a Cheshire grin, finger gunning you. “It’s your first love.”

“Rie, I will leave.” 

She scoffs. “Yeah, right. And miss out on the massages we booked? The onsen? I don’t think so.”

“You don’t know what I’m capable of,” you say darkly. 

She snickers, tilts her head at you. “You don’t want to say hi?” 

“Not really, no,” you say. “And if you call him over, I’ll kill you. Hanta will be sad, but he’ll get over it.” 

Rie laughs. “I don’t know about that. He is dating me, after all.”

“I’ve known him longer. He’ll forgive me.” 

The two of you switch over your attention to an approaching receptionist. 

“Thank you so much for waiting,” he says. “Your room is ready now. Please follow our staff. We’ll take care of your bags.”

You let them take your luggage, too distracted by staying out of Bakugou’s line of sight to pay attention to the small talk the receptionist’s making. Thankfully Rie’s chatting cheerfully with him, leaving you to your task. 

As you enter a hallway leading off the lobby area, you catch a last glimpse of Bakugou. He’s speaking to a staff member at the front desk area, presumably checking in. He’s alone. You wonder if anyone will be joining him, or if he’s here by himself. 

Shaking your head, you push away those thoughts. It’s none of your business. This ryokan’s rather large, and it’s popular with tourists and locals alike. You doubt you’ll see him again during your stay. 

You stare doubtfully at the email Sero forwarded you, then look up at him, your eyebrows furrowed. 

“Hanta, this is a luxury onsen ryokan. And you want me to go with Rie? Why aren’t you going?”

Sero claps his hands together in front of his face. “Please? The agency denied my time off request because we’re so busy. You gotta know how busy we are, even holed up in your office.” 

You frown at him. “The agency denied you? That’s crazy. You haven’t taken time off the whole year.” 

“I know, right? Anyway, Rie doesn’t want to go alone, and the reservation at this place is only valid for so long. Cancelling’s not an option.” 

You frown. “If they denied you, they’ll probably deny me too, Hanta.” 

“Noooo, it doesn’t hurt to put in the request! Plus, you haven’t gone on vacation in years. Treat yourself! This can be my months-in-advance birthday gift to you.”

You try one last time. “Are you sure Rie even wants to go with me? I know you want this to be a surprise, but maybe you should ask her if there’s anyone else she’d want to go on a trip with.”

Sero gives you a look, as if you’d just said something unbelievably stupid. “I’m not even going to respond to that.” 

You snort, smiling. “Alright, alright. Thanks, Hanta. I’ll take all the pictures of Rie and send them to you if the agency does grant me the time off.”

Sero slings an arm around your shoulders. “Thanks, bud.” 

“I miss Hanta,” Rie says, collapsing on her back onto the bed. 

You push both of your bags to the side, to be unpacked later. The entire far wall of your room’s lounge area is glass, with a door leading out to the outdoor area and open-air bath, and you give in to your urge to step outside onto the wood, deck-like floor. 

The bath rises from the floor to your right, rectangular, spacious. The staff member told the both of you it’s fed from the onsen, and the steam it’s giving off dissipates into the cool spring air. The bath and deck are built to overlook a large pond with koi swimming in it, giving the impression that where the deck ends the water begins. The far side of the pond is lined with trees and shrubbery. Wooden partitions on either side of this area enclose the space, giving it a sense of privacy. 

It’s absolutely gorgeous. And it’s so quiet here. Aside from the ambient water sounds from the onsen on the property, birdsong from the nearby forested area, there’s little to interrupt this emerging feeling of serenity. 

“You saw him literally before we left,” you say. “Rie, come out here and look at this view. I call dibs on using the bath first.” 

“You could be more sympathetic. We haven’t been able to see each other much this month,” she grumbles, but she comes out to join you anyway. 

“Okay, you can use the bath first,” you tell her. 

She grins at you, bumping her shoulder against yours. “Thanks, friend.”

“The things I do.” You don’t really mind. You have the entire long weekend to enjoy this place. The peace and quiet are already doing wonders for the tension in your shoulders.

A twinge of guilt passes you in a wave. After the staff member who’d escorted you to your room had given you both a short tour of the space, it really hit you how expensive this all was. 

“Rie, you really should’ve come here with Hanta,” you tell her, frowning. “He should’ve pushed for the time off or adjusted the reservation. This is way too nice of an experience to pass up.”

Rie snorts. 

“Don’t stress,” she says. “You think he didn’t try all that? It was either keep the reservation with someone else or lose out on a lot of money. I wanted you to come, so don’t overthink, silly.”

You lean your arm against hers. “Thanks, Rie. I’ll get you and Hanta something nice for your birthdays.”

She hums, and the two of you lapse into silence, appreciating the birdsong, the late afternoon sun gilding the pond, the surrounding trees in warmth. 

“So, what’s up with you and Bakugou?” Rie asks. “I thought you worked out all those feelings for him back in high school.” 

And there goes all that peace. You groan, turning and heading back inside, grabbing your bag and starting to unpack your clothes. Rie follows you, sprawling out onto your bed this time to be as annoying as possible. 

“I did,” you say, because not answering would result in incessant pestering. Better to nip this conversation in the bud so it doesn’t come back up again while you’re on this trip. You tell her, “We’re cool. You know that. You go to the same get-togethers.”

Since graduating from UA, you’d kept in touch with Sero, who you’d met because he’d been the hero you’d been assigned to for the management course’s third year project. You became good friends, as Sero’s one of those good boys, best boys, genuinely kind and fun to talk to. 

Through your friendship with him, you’d met some of his friends—Kaminari, Kirishima. Mina, Sato. Bakugou. 

While you’d befriended the others pretty easily, Bakugou was a different story. And it wasn’t necessarily his fault. He’d chilled out considerably by your third year.

It was because of your cringey, super obvious crush on him during your first year. 

You were so painfully obvious about it, everyone in your class knew. It didn’t take long for kids in the other courses to take notice. When Bakugou entered a room you were in, you would freeze and forget what you were saying. You’d sneak glances at him, and your entire body would warm up if your eyes met. Even thinking about it now, as an adult, makes you want to die a little.

Thankfully, whether it was because he chose to willfully ignore you or because he just never found out, your crush ran its course. It helped a lot that you began interacting with Bakugou within social circles because of Sero; it humanized him, made him real to you. The fantasy of a crush can’t survive knowing someone, getting to know them, you found. 

Still, probably because of that history, you never got close to Bakugou, while at UA and after. You were too embarrassed, and now you’re just not super interested. If you don’t count this past year, since graduation, you’ve seen him only a handful of times, always in passing and never one-on-one. 

But if you do count this year, specifically the past six months, you’ve seen him a lot. 

At a get-together at Mina’s place. At Todoroki Shouto’s birthday a couple months back. At a dinner with Rie, Sero, Kirishima, and Mina a few weeks ago. You figure he’s had some free time open up, to accept the hangout invites that he once left unresponded to in the group chat. It’d make sense, since he’s at this ryokan when everyone knows he’s a workaholic. 

You’re happy for him. Work-life balance is super important. And you guys aren’t getting any younger.

“No, you guys are weird together,” Rie says. 

You throw a pillow at her. To your annoyance, she catches it easily. 

“What do you mean by weird?” you ask.

“I don’t know. It’s hard to describe. He always looks like he’s bitten into a lemon when he sees you.”

You roll your eyes. “Great. Can we stop talking about Bakugou now?” 

“Last question, I swear.” 

“Last question for the entire trip about him,” you say, narrowing your eyes at her. 

She sighs, as if this is a huge burden on her. “Deal. I was just thinking—what did you even see in him when we were teenagers?”

“Okay, but why are you thinking about this at all,” you say. 

“Just answer the question.”

“It’s not that deep,” you say, shrugging. “I liked his face.” 

“Really?” Rie’s expression, disgruntled and appalled, makes you laugh. 

“Don’t act like he’s not objectively really attractive. He’s handsome, be real.”

“Maybe to some people,” she relents. “But his personality cancels it out, carry the two.” 

“He’s mellowed out so much over the years,” you say. You feel a little odd, finding yourself defending him. “He’s sweet, when he wants to be. Remember how he got Mina that bracelet she wanted so badly, for her birthday? Or how he picked up those special oranges for Hanta when he went on that one mission?”

Rie looks at you for a long moment. As your words settle into the silence, you begin to feel self-conscious. But it’s not like what you’d said isn’t true. Rie knows this. 

Just as you open your mouth to no doubt incriminate yourself further, she leans back on the bed and closes her eyes. “I guess you’re right. You done folding those clothes? I’m hungry. Let’s get dinner. Hanta says it’s kaiseki.”

Dinner is absolutely delicious. Your server tells you and Rie that the chef’s designed the menu to feature ingredients native to the region, ingredients in season. Everything’s fresh, and even dishes you aren’t normally particularly fond of have you cleaning your plate. You feel spoiled. 

You take lots of pictures. Of the dishes, of Rie. You send them to Sero. 

Hanta: The food looks great! My girl looks even better!!! Send more pics pls

Rie’s pleased when you show her the messages. After fussing over her appearance, she makes you take a picture of her in your room’s outdoor bath, hair elegantly twisted up and off her shoulders, the ambient lighting softly illuminating her face. 

“I’m going to take a walk, see what that little bamboo garden looks like at night,” you tell her. She waves at you with one hand, tapping away at her phone, no doubt sending messages to Sero. 

“Don’t drop your phone in the water,” you say, and she makes an impatient sound, shooing you.

Smiling, you leave her to it. 

Now that it’s nighttime, the ryokan is quieter, more subdued. It’s easy enough to find the bamboo garden. The paths are brightly illuminated, the walkways clear and easy to take. Maybe because it’s the evening, but you encounter few people. Most are partaking in the onsen, unwinding after a long day, you guess. You plan to do so yourself, but you stumble across a dimly lit sitting area overlooking a small pond and waterfall. It’s pretty, and you can’t resist lingering. Taking a seat on a bench, you let your mind empty as you watch the glimmer of moonlight on the water. 

“Hey,” a voice says behind you, and you startle, turning. 

Bakugou’s standing there, looking uncharacteristically soft and undone in the onsen’s yukata. His hair is a little damp, spikes fallen. 

Seeing him in traditional wear takes you aback; you’ve only ever seen him in casual clothes—jeans, shirts, sweats. His hero suit, all sleek lines. The yukata’s a good look on him. 

“Oh hey, Bakugou,” you say, then hesitate, feeling awkward. What to say? Should you pretend this is the first you’ve seen of him here? 

While you flounder a little, Bakugou walks over to sit in a chair nearby, facing the water. You’re bewildered at this turn of events. You’re surprised he stopped to say hello, let alone sit and have a conversation with you.  

“Saw you and Soy Sauce Face’s girlfriend at dinner,” he says. “You on vacation?” 

Blinking, relieved, you reply, “Sort of. Long story short, Hanta was supposed to come out here with Rie, but work denied his time off. So I’m the replacement Hanta.” 

Bakugou looks at you. His eyes narrow. You shift in your seat, feeling a little bit like a bug under a microscope. Did you say something weird?

“What about you?” you ask, trying to lift the focus off of you. “You here on vacation?”

“...Yeah. For the weekend,” he says, looking back at the pond, exhaling sharply.

For someone on vacation, he doesn’t look too happy about it, you note. 

“Us too,” you tell him. “What do you think of the ryokan? I haven’t gotten the chance to explore yet, but what I’ve seen is gorgeous. Did you just use the public onsen?” 

“It’s alright,” Bakugou grumbles, and you blink, face scrunching up in incredulity. 

“You must have really high standards to say that, sir,” you say, and he snorts. An expression you can’t quite make out in the low light crosses his face, fades. He really is a handsome bastard, you find yourself thinking. 

He says something you don’t quite catch. 

“Sorry?” you say. Internally, you scold yourself for your idle thoughts. Another part of you argues back that there’s no harm in looking. 

“How’d you know I used the onsen?” he repeats, looking a little annoyed.

“Oh,” you say, surprised. Without thinking, you lean forward, reaching out to touch his hair. 

Bakugou turns his head sharply; he grabs your wrist on what seems like instinct, halting you. You freeze, mortified.

“I’m sorry!” you say hastily. He drops your hand immediately, like you’re contaminated. You draw back. Flustered, you continue, “It’s just—your hair’s still a little wet. I took a guess. Sorry again, I don’t know what I was thinking.” 

You were treating him like he’s Hanta, or Rie, as if you’re close friends. Jeez. 

“Forget it,” he says gruffly. 

There’s a long stretch of silence, and you begin to think of excuses to make to escape. 

Just as you open your mouth with one, he says, “What’re you doing tomorrow?” 

“I—I think Rie wanted to check out the town’s morning market, and the temple nearby,” you say. “She likes to sleep in, so we’ll probably do that after my morning run. The staff said there’s a scenic walking trail through the forest, so I’ll probably check it out.”

You force your mouth closed before the rambling continues. Wait, you should ask him the same, right? To be polite?

But before you can say anything, Bakugou grunts, then stands. 

“Go back to your room,” he tells you. “It’s getting late.”

With that, he leaves. You sit there for a long moment, staring after him.

“Hey, welcome back,” Rie says from her bed, covered from nose to toes in a blanket. Her eyelids droop in a way that tells you she’s minutes from sleep. “You were gone for a while.”

“Yeah, sorry,” you say, closing the door behind you. Woodenly, you begin to gather clothes to change into. “I’m going to take a quick shower, okay? Go ahead and sleep; don’t wait up for me.”

“Mmkay,” she says, eyes already closed. 

You move around as quietly as you can, getting ready for bed. 

All the while, you can’t help but think about the conversation you just had. About Bakugou.

For the past couple months, at gatherings with mutual friends, it’s been like this when you talk to each other. Awkward, with a strange underlying tension. You’re not sure if it’s your fault, or his, but. You wish you could be normal around him. It’s only like this with him.

As you climb into bed, getting settled, the memory of him in his yukata flashes across your closed eyelids. The moonlight on his face, cooling the red of his eyes. His hand around your wrist.

Fuck. 

Notes: Hello friends! This fic is a very belated birthday fic for our guy, my little muse 🧡 This is intended to be a twoshot, and I hope to have that second part up next weekend. Please look forward to it!

A couple notes, as there are some specifically Japanese items referenced in this fic:

A ryokan is a Japanese-style inn! Onsen are hot springs. So an onsen ryokan is an inn that features hot springs on the property. Here, here, and here are videos you can enjoy of people visiting some.

Kaiseki is a multi-course, traditional Japanese dinner. Some of the videos I linked above show the kinds of kaiseki offered!

Thank you for reading! Hugs and kisses 💕 Until part two!

[mariasont]

Spoiled - A.H

a/n: felt feral writing this hope y'all enjoy it as much as i did

think im ovulating or something YALL IDK

anyhow happy reading let me know what yall think 🤭

masterlist

‧₊˚ ✩°｡⋆♡ ⋆˙⟡♡ ⋆˙⟡♡⋆｡°✩˚₊‧

pairings: aaron hotchner x fem!reader

summary: in which hotch overhears your conversation with penelope and decides to do something about it

warnings: 18+ MDNI, phone sex!, sex toy!, fem solo masturbation, penelope being a little instigator lmao, dirty talk, soft dom!hotch, established relationship, honestly a little bit of angst whoops, reader is slightly dramatic like hotch has been gone for prob 5 hours STAND UP!

wc: 3.3k

"Penelope Grace Garcia!"

Her comment earned her the full government name, igniting a burst of laughter that you attempt to smother behind your hand. Sinking deeper into the couch, you dismiss the absurdity with a shake of your head. You even find yourself glancing over your shoulder even though you know no one is home.

"You know, I really shouldn't be telling you this, but trust me, that's the least of our worries in this relationship."

"Look, whatever floats your love boat or rocks your bed frame is strictly your business," she comments as if that were the most casual thing to say.

You giggle, a warmth spreading through you as you tread across the kitchen tiles, the phone pressed against your ear. 

"Oh my god, Pen," you let out a laugh, feeling a soft crimson spread across your cheeks, while your thighs swell with the thoughts of your doting boyfriend. "No, no, like I said we're more than okay in that department. It just gets, well, lonely when he's away."

Your hand curls around the neck of your favorite bottle of red, easing the cork free with a satisfying pop. The liquid swirls into the glass, a little more than probably necessary, as the gentle hiss of water beginning to simmer breaks through the kitchen. 

"You, my dear, are a saint among mortals."

"Well, he makes it easy," you shrug, pouring the rice into the bubbling pot, a cloud of steam rising to paint the windows.

"Honestly, I don't know how you manage. I'd be itching for it, especially if it's as good as you say," Penelope admits with a dramatic sigh.

You laugh, propping the phone against the backsplash, its speaker projecting the conversation into the room. Aaron stands just out of sight, unnoticed, taking in your every syllable.

"When he gets back, trust me, every second apart seems like a small price to pay."

"Ever thought about getting yourself a toy? You know, for those long nights?" Penelope hints not (at all) so slyly. 

The wine almost sprays from your mouth as you stifle a surprised splutter. Aaron, still unseen, raises an eyebrow.

"Oh, um, no, I haven't really considered... a toy," you murmur, cheeks burning. You clear your throat, pretending to be engrossed in the simmering pot. "Aaron might have an opinion on that, I guess."

Your attempt at nonchalance was failing, you definitely knew that.

Aaron rested casually against the door frame, a soft smile touching his lips at the sound of your bashful laughter. He'd always had a soft spot for the way your cheeks bloom with color--a sight he wasn't afraid to go great lengths to witness. The idea of a toy seemed to pique his curiosity, drawing a pensive frown as his attention stayed fixed on you for a moment longer.

He slips away silently, his steps carrying him to the front door as you continue your conversation with Penelope.

The call disconnects with a soft click, and you're left in the quiet of the kitchen, unwittingly promising to keep Penelope updated. Turning back to the stove, you stir the sauce with a distracted hand, your lips downturned. Aaron should have been home by now.

The dining table is set, candles flickering, their glow falling on the chair he's yet to fill. You let out a sigh, stealing another look at the ticking clock. The food is ready, but with each passing minute, it grows cooler, just the unfamiliar feeling of disappointment settling in your chest. 

The audible twist of the key catches your attention, and you can't help but glance over your shoulder. Aaron walks in, his lips curving into a smile upon seeing you.

"Hi, my gorgeous girl," he greets, his voice a familiar sound that kindles a familiar flutter into your heart.

He places his briefcase down, the sound muted, and as he approaches, his lips brush a tender kiss against your temple. The annoyance that had been bubbling inside you melts away with his touch. Damn him.

You turn to him, a sheepish "Hi" fluttering out, your cheeks tinged with heat. It's a feeling that's always fresh, the way he still makes you feel like you're back in high school, hearts doodled in the margins of your notebook.

Aaron settles into his chair, the soft scrape of wood against the tile following his movements.

"Sorry 'M late," he offers, his tone warm, appreciative. "Everything looks and smells wonderful, honey. Thank you."

His fingers gently sweep a loose strand of hair from your face, his smile softening you, disarming you. He's so beautiful.

"You're welcome," you reply, your cheeks growing warmer with each word. "And, um, I hope it's okay. It might be a bit cold. I thought...I guess I assumed you'd be home sooner."

You voice trails off, leaving behind a trail of embarrassed concern, wondering if perhaps you'd somehow overstepped. 

Aaron looks at you, his eyes turning kind as he discerns the unease on your face.

"I'm sorry, baby, got held up with a little errand." He bites into the food, and a gratified hum indicates his approval. "This is delicious."

You find yourself beaming at the praise. He had a talent for that--praising you, almost as if he'd made it his life mission. This was a first for you in a relationship, and it's exactly why the late nights and time spent alone didn't weigh so heavily. 

After dinner, you're rinsing off the plates when Aaron's hands draw you close, his hands claiming your waist, the heat of his palms radiating through the fabric of your shirt. He plants a soft kiss on your shoulder.

"Let me help with that. You're spoiling me," he insists, his words spoken into your damp skin.

You lean back into his embrace, his chest flush against your back.

"I like taking care of you," you admit, heart skipping a beat under the weight of his gaze, the softness in his eyes dissolving your concentration on the task at hand. 

A deep, affectionate groan escapes Aaron as he pulls you even closer. But all good things come to an end, and the ringing of his phone seems like an icy intrusion, like a sudden draft into the kitchen.

"Hotchner," he answers, and even though the word leaves his lips, his fingers gently sketch patterns across your hip. 

You feel your heart sink. When he hangs up, his eyes lock with yours, brimming with an apology he doesn't voice. It's unnecessary, you already know.

"A case?" You hate how small your voice sounds, dipped in an understanding you wish you didn't have.

He nods, a simple stupid gesture that sends a lump of disappointment soaring up your throat, which you desperately try to swallow down. 

"Okay... just, be careful, okay? I'll miss you."

"And I'll miss you, angel. Be good for me."

There's a hollowness in the house that follows you through each room. You were well aware of Aaron's demanding job when you started dating--the unpredictable schedule, the sudden departures, the cases that required his immediate attention. Still, this awareness did nothing to soften to sting of his absence. At all. 

You found yourself wandering aimlessly, picking up a book only to set it down unread, starting a movie but not really watching. Eventually, you ended up in the bedroom, his bedroom, where the subtle scent of his cologne lingers. It's both comforting and heart-wrenching. God, you felt like you were being so dramatic.

You climb into the bed, the sheets cool against your skin, too big and empty without him. Your eyes darts to the phone resting on the nightstand. You've always been careful not to disturb him while he's working, but tonight felt different.

With a trembling hand, you pick up the phone, your thumb hovering indecisively over the screen. Reluctantly, you returned it to its place. There was no point in bothering him.

A sudden draft sent a shiver up your spine, reminding you of the blanket Hotch had bought for you a couple months ago. You sighed, rising from the bed and moving to the closet.

But your eyes skipped over the blanket, instead fixating on a shiny pink bag tucked away in a secluded corner. Compelled by a spike of curiosity, you grabbed the bag and pulled it open. Your eyes widened, cheeks burning with a sudden flush as you placed it on the bed. How long had this been hiding here? And the timing--just after your conversation with Penelope--felt almost too uncanny. 

You went back to your phone.

Hi

The message was simple. You hit send before you can second-guess yourself.

Almost immediately, your phone vibrated--Aaron's name illuminated the screen. You answer, and his voice was there, infused with immediate concern.

"Hi honey. You okay?" His question was straightforward, cutting through the noise.

You nodded, forgetting for a moment he couldn't see you. Shifting on the bed, you said softly, "Um, yeah, I'm fine. I didn't mean to bother you. Is it a bad time?"

His response is quick. "You could never bother me."

A blush flares on your cheeks, and a smile instinctively forms. You fidget on the bed, the sheets sighing with your movements, sounds that don't escape Aaron's attentive detection.

"Can't seem to find the right spot without me there, huh?"

"I can't seem to do a lot of things without you here," you grumble under your breath, intended more for yourself than for him. The bed emits a soft creak as you turn again, your breath hitching in a pout that he can almost see through the phone. "Aaron, I found something in the closet..."

You lost your words, fingertips tracing the toy's edge, as you fumbled with the strings of your shorts.

"Hmm? Care to enlighten me."

"You know."

You weren't in the mood for his teasing, because you knew he knew. You could sense his smugness, his voice dripping into that familiar, velvety register that prompted your lips to purse.

"I don't know, sweetheart."

Once again, you found yourself stirring against the linen, nibbling on your lip as a wave of exasperation washed over you, your eyes rolling into their sockets.

"Where are you?"

"Just got to my hotel room." You could hear the subtle movements in the background, accompanied by the soft groans of the mattress under his weight. "What did you find in the closet that was so urgent you needed to text me in the middle of my case?"

Your face was warm. "You said it wasn't a bother."

"And I meant it, now spell it out for me."

Your hands cautiously pushed over the toy, examining its buttons and sides. Subconsciously, your tongue swept over your top teeth. You lowered your voice as though someone else might overhear.

"The toy...is it for me? I mean, I would hope so. If not, well, we'd have a rather awkward issue."

"Yes, it's for you, baby."

You stifled a grin. How could he have known? That profiling business was really no joke.

"Why?"

His muffled chuckle filtered through, and you could almost see the flash of his pearly whites. You really missed him, so much so that you were conjuring vision of his mouth of his on places that should not be said aloud. 

"I just want to make sure my best girl is taken care of when I'm not home." You could practically hear the smirk on his lips.

You were deep in your fantasy now, your free hand sliding down your shorts as you envisioned him propped against the headboard of his hotel bed, tie hanging loosely, hair tousled just so.

"I'm always taken care of by you, Aaron," you said quietly.

You didn't know how to go about this, whatever this even was. You were treading into unknown territory; never having had phone sex with Aaron--or anyone for that matter.  It was a far cry from the occasional suggestive text.

"That's right." His voice flowed like honey in your ear, causing a shiver as your finger skimmed over your underwear, your breathing momentarily faltering. "You're going to be well taken care of for the rest of your life, yeah?"

"Yeah."

You could hardly breathe, squirming against your own touch, glancing over at the toy that sat beside your hip.

"I want you to know how much I appreciate your patience. You're a good girl, honey. Far too good for me." You weren't. It was the other way around; you didn't deserve him. You told yourself that every day. "I know you get lonely, and I know it's something you'd never admit to."

"Aaron..."

He didn't let you finish. "Why don't you tell me what you're doing right now?"

Your actions came to an abrupt standstill, thumb suspended above your clothed clit. You entertained the thought that this FBI gig might have been a front for a psychic, maybe one of those fortune teller types.

You were mumbling into your sleeve, a private conversation with the threads. "Just...um, well it's hardly worth mentioning, honestly."

Wow you're sure you fooled him.

"I'm not fond of dishonesty." The low rumble of his voice sent a tremor through your core. "I'm giving you a final chance. Tell me what you're doing, sweetheart."

A hard swallow passed your throat, your thumb rubbing idle circles into the band of flesh on your hip. 

"Well, I, uh, was touching myself." The words felt as awkward as they sounded, an internal wince accompanying each syllable at how unsexy you were speaking.

"Where, sweetheart?"

You exhaled sharply at the question, heavy with exasperation at his insistence on drawing this out. But the slickness between your legs was undeniable. Your hand slid back to the delicate skin between your thighs.

"Aaron, please," you breathed out so faintly it was almost inaudible.

He was playing a cruel game, and he knew it. You hardly cussed let alone talk about your lady parts so openly.

"I hope I've never given you a reason to feel judged, honey." There was a sweetness in his voice that masked his darker intentions. "Just tell me where. I want to help."

Your tongue flicked nervously across your lip, your finger dipping into the valley of your folds as you mulled over his offer. You were wet, far more than you had anticipated, practically coating your thighs in the process.

"No, 'course not," you said softly, biting back a sigh as your thumb worked slowly against your inflamed clit. "It's just, you're so far, Aaron."

"Why do you think I got you that toy?" Your gaze darted to the pink thing, resting against your hip. "I want you to use it. I'll walk you through it, just like I would in person."

You could melt. You could liquefy into nothingness on the spot. Your fingers pressed more urgently against yourself, a deep-seated wish for him to be here surfacing, knowing all the while it was a baseless hope.

"Okay."

"Okay?"

"Yeah, okay."

"There you go, that's my girl."

You couldn't hold back the whimper that fell from your lips as you arched against the bed, fingers diving into your cunt.

"My needy girl," he repeated, his laughter resonating with a patronizing tone that oddly egged you on. "Alright, can you pick up the toy for me?"

You wedged the phone snugly between your shoulder and ear, your hand closing around the pink, curved object, scrutinizing its every detail with careful eyes.

"Okay."

It was big, not as big as Aaron, but its dimensions were nonetheless imposing. You felt your chest heave in anticipation, waiting for his instructions.

His silence was stretching your patience thin. You turned it on, and it came to life, watching as it vibrated, the soft buzz permeating the space. You let it trail over your stomach, fabric gathering as your shirt rode up. Nearing your clit, you braced, taking in a quick breath.

But that breath was released in a strangled moan as you pushed the toy firmly into your sopping hole, legs spreading expansively as a taut sensation gripped your center.

"Did I say you could use it already?" he questioned, his tongue clicking in disapproval as you strained against the device, the second prong vibrations coursing against your nub, your whole-body jerking in response.

"N-No, 'M sorry," you panted, your focus narrowing as you pushed to toy in and out, your lips rounding into an 'o'. "It feels really good, Aar."

"I'm sure it does, baby," he teased, his voice carrying a certainty that your own lacked. "Let me hear you fuck yourself with it.

You loved hearing him curse, it was rare, and usually reserved for intimate moments like this. It fueled your actions, your wrist quickening, driving the device deeper, your stomach twisting in tight knots, a loud moan escaping unrestrained, suddenly you were thankful for the distance between Aaron's house and the next.

It felt so good, and yet somehow still not comparable to how it was with Aaron. Weren't you spoiled?

"Miss you so much," you slurred, your movements stuttering as the device worked your body in ways you didn't know were possible.

"Miss you too, angel. You're doing so good."

"Can you, ah, come home, p-please?"

You weren't even sure of what you were saying, all your thoughts on chasing your high and pretending the toy was Aaron's cock. Thinking about how he'd fill you up right now, how he'd press you to the mattress, how his body would cover yours.

"Your present isn't enough?" His tone was taunting, your eyes welling with tears, clouding your vision as your hips bucked against the toy. "That's a shame, sweetheart, think maybe you've been a little spoiled. You can't have my cock all the time."

You were completely dazed, his sentences barely making their way through the fog as you'd like them to. You were crying, you think, hot and relentless tears carving a path down your face as you fucked yourself harder against the toy.

The noises coming from your pussy were obscene, soaked and squishing as you tried to respond to Aaron, but nothing but small hiccups were escaping your mouth.

"It's okay, baby, I know. You're doing so good for me. I can hear it."

Your cheeks and ears flared with a heat that spelled out your shame, but it was the least of your concerns. Your walls tightened against the device, the pressure on your clit suddenly all too much and not enough at the same time. Gasping for air, your breaths came out in uneven bursts. When you tried to call out Aaron's name, it emerged as nothing more than a choked sob.

"C-Can I? Please, need to so bad." You weren't entirely convinced you were speaking English, but Aaron understood. 

"Go ahead, sweetheart."

That was all you needed. Your cunt contracted again before vaulting over the edge, nearly losing consciousness in the process, a string of moans and half-said words pouring out of your lips.

You could hear the sound of his voice, but the words were just out of reach, not fully making sense. You felt your body twitch, and you blinked deliberately, once, twice, three times, in an effort to reconnect your body to your mind.

"You're so good, baby. So good. Miss you so much."

You pulled the toy, now soaked, from yourself, cringing at the lewd sound as you laid it beside you, making a mental note to wash the sheets later. Although if Aaron had his way that wouldn't happen.

"I miss you." You hated the way your voice betrayed ever emotion you had.

"Need you to go pee for me, sweetheart."

He sounded so soft and tired, but somehow still present. You let out a soft snicker as you curled onto your side. 

"Can't move my legs," you mumbled, the sound muffled by the way your cheek was squished into the pillow. "Need you to come carry me."

His laugh was something you wished you could bottle up. "Spoiled."

"And who's to blame for that?" You were ready for his witty retort, but it was cut short by the sudden flash of your phone. You squinted at the caller ID. "Sorry, Penelope is calling me, can I call you back in a second?"

"Course, honey. Thank her for the idea, yeah?" Your mouth fell open as you scrambled for the right words. Of course he had heard. "Also, I plan on spending a few solid hours fucking you when I get home, so I suggest you get some rest."

taglist: @hotchhner @khxna

[soldearestsoulmate]

💚 Solivan Brugmansia + Touches 💚

A couple SFW to suggestive headcanons about Sol and his show of affection through physical touches. Might write more when more ideas come to me finally. lol Reader is gender neutral.

Public physical shows of affection from Sol to you will usually be small and subtle. But he'll be straight and forward with his actions if the moment calls for it.

If anything, he really can't keep his hands off you. Whether it be a small caress of your cheek or moving a lose strain of your hair from your face. He'll one way or another, if he's close enough to you, will touch his darling soulmate.

He's not one for hand holding in public too often. But for you, he'll push past his comfort zone and hold your hand to keep you close. Will even squeeze his hold a little more as times passes, scared to let you go now. Your hand fits perfectly in his and feels warm, you were made for him, he just knows it. His mind is racing with ideas on other ways you two could hold hands more and longer now.

Along with hand holding, if he starts to get possessive, jealous or just protective of you. Expect him to wrap a arm around your waist or shoulder to keep you close. Did he just growl at someone? No, it must of been your imagination. Yet his hold on you just got tighter.

When in private however, he won't be shy to show his touches of affection to you. He'll cup your face in his hands and gaze lovingly into your eyes. Often telling you how much he loves you and showering you with loving words and compliments. Whether a kiss happens in that moment or not is up to you. But he really wants to kiss you right now. You're going to kiss him, right?

Cuddling together will happen almost always. In bed, on the couch, he'll always have you close to him. Running his fingers through your hair and often giving you small kisses on top of your head or on your face. Nuzzling his face into your neck and resting his head on our shoulder, taking in your scent as he softly sighs out happily. His heart is practically dancing in joy over the fact he has you all to himself now. You're all his, only his now. Now and forever.

If cuddling is happening in bed though, he'll try to control himself, but if you make the first move, he won't stop you or hold back. He wants you to be closer to him, practically fused if possible now. You want that too, right?

If you're doing any cooking for the two of you that day at your place while he's over. Expect him to wrap his arms around your waist and hug you from behind. Being unable to keep his hands off you as he gives kisses from your shoulder to your neck. Receiving a few giggles from you, as he lightly nibbles at you finally. He shouldn't be distracting you while you're cooking, he knows, but he can't restrain himself. You're too beautiful to not stay away from, and he just needs to show you often(always) how much he loves you.

Speaking of hugs, they will happen often. If you give him a hug first, expect him to hug you back just as tightly, or more. He knows he's quite strong, so will try to not ever harm you in his embrace. Once he has you in his grasp though, he might not ever want to let you go.

[elaci]

One For The Road

The morning after what's meant to be a one-night-stand, Nat convinces you to stay in bed a little longer.

cw; mentions of drunk sex, thigh riding n pussy eating as god intended

Natasha Romanoff x fem!reader | 18+ mdni

Nat, she told you to call her.

The woman whose taste still stains your lips, whose touch still burns your skin and voice still purrs in your memory. The woman whose bed you wake naked in, with her arms snaked around your waist.

She’s warm in a way that makes you think, for a moment as you wake, that this is familiar. You’re more comfortable than you’ve been in months, her bed plush but firm enough to support you and the gentle ache of your body after her extensive ministrations the night before.

The sun has long risen, and shines through her window in such a way that the room is bathed in radiant golden hues. You turn a little, still half-drunk on sleep, and take in the sight of Nat as she sleeps soundly. You know you should get up while you can, leave without the awkward goodbyes that follow a one night stand, but her skin is so soft and her arm such a comfort around your waist that you feel wholly stuck in place. You wonder if you could get away with closing your eyes and drifting off for a few more minutes.

“Better not be thinking about leaving me,” her voice breaks the morning silence. You turn your head and meet her eyes, tired and heavy with sleep but still boring into yours under the morning gold.

You offer her a gentle smile. “Go back to sleep,” you hum. “I’ll get out of your hair and call you later, yeah?”

You aren’t sure you even have her number saved in your phone, or where your phone is, for that matter. Despite the pang in your chest at the thought of never crossing paths with Nat again, you take the high road and move to get out of bed. Her arm tightens around your waist before you get the chance.

“Nope,” she mumbles, pulling you into her body. Skin against skin, it brings back memories of the night before that you doubt you’ll rid the taste from your lips. Nat manages to press a kiss to your collarbone. “I’m not done with you.”

She kisses you again, and again, peppering open mouthed kisses across the expanse of your chest, each time eliciting a shiver in their wake.

Your judgement isn't clouded by alcohol anymore, you can feel each trace of her lips like fire against your skin as she trails soft kisses up the column of your neck. Every breath sends your blood rushing south. You can barely manage the words you speak, drunk once again with desire.

“I thought…” you gasp when she bites at your pulsepoint. “You said last night was a one time thing.”

Nat pulls away to look at you with raised eyebrows, you grieve the loss of contact. “You think I tell the truth when I’m drunk?”

She traces a nail down your bare chest, underneath the sheet that covers the two of you, tracing invisible designs against your rib cage until your skin feels impossibly tight. You’re lost for words again, and she takes advantage of the moment, pressing a chaste kiss to the corner of your lips.

“Stay, and let me taste you again,” her tone is steady. “Or get out of my bed, you gorgeous piece of shit, and make breakfast.”

Your mind betrays you, throws away all rules and notions of a one-night-stand and moves your body on your behalf. You’re catching her lips in a kiss before you can register the hand that slips from your stomach to your thigh. You taste alcohol, and the remnants of a cigarette you barely remember her slipping out of your arms to smoke on the balcony. She takes your bottom lip between her teeth and bites down, shooting the most beautiful pain right from your lips down to your pulsing core.

Her grip is strong on your leg, fingers digging into the flesh of your thigh as if she’s trying to stake her claim on you. It’s a feeling that drives lust through you like electricity: the notion of being desired, owned. When she pulls the sheet off of the both of you and climbs over your naked frame, you feel like a woeful miscreant for ever thinking of leaving this bed. Your heart beats so hard it almost hurts. You wonder if, when her mouth latches onto one of your peaked nipples, she can feel the thrum of your heart against her lips.

“God,” starved, she presses a kiss to your other breast. “I should tie you to this bed, keep you here until you’re too fucked out to remember your own name.”

“Nat—” you try, entranced by whatever spell she’s washing over you. Her kisses trail down your stomach.

“That’s right,” she groans against your hip bone. “Let me make you mine.”

“Yes,” you vocalise your consent, but Nat tuts.

“Say please.”

“Please.”

With not even a second to spare, Nat is delving between your thighs for a taste of your lust. She groans against your pussy, already high off the taste she’s gotten, and latches her lips onto your clit in an assault fueled by need and need alone. She’s a woman with a mission, and you feel dizzy with desire for more already. You want her inside of you, her body as tightly pressed against yours as she can manage. You ache for every inch of her. For everything.

For now, though, she does what she knows you need. Your hand snakes down to grab at her red hair as her tongue works violently against your clit until you’re a writhing mess beneath her.

Once you’re close enough to the edge that you’re seeing stars, Nats scalp must burn from the stress of your pulling. Trying anything to get closer, become one with the woman so pussydrunk she’s moaning against your clit like she’s the one being unravelled.

Being as coy as she is, however, you can feel her smile against your pussy as you come close to orgasm. Just as your toes curl and a sobbed moan starts to break from your chest, Nat pulls away and leaves you bucking your hips into the air for any semblance of stimulation. You could cry.

“Had to punish you somehow for thinking you could sneak away,” Nat pushes herself up to your face, you can see a gloss of your arousal coating her lips and chin from her messy ministrations. “Sorry.”

You’re about to comment, through babbled words, that she doesn’t sound sorry when her lips meet yours once more. The kiss is messy and harsh, your teeth click together and tongues meet and you can taste yourself. She is one to share, after all. The taste of your lust mixed with the intoxicant of her lips is almost enough for you to forgive her for your ruined orgasm. Almost.

When Nat pulls away, wiping her lips with the back of her hand to maintain at least a little composure, she catches your frown and mirrors it with her own.

“What’s wrong?” She pouts, her tone mocking in a way that makes your body ache to be filled by her.

“You know what’s wrong.”

Her frown fades, and her replacing smile worsens your ache. Her chest heaves with laboured breath as Nat repositions herself, straddling one of your thighs and lowering herself against your skin.

She must have gotten off on your taste alone, because she’s wetter than you’d think reasonable. A slut for servicing you, it seems.

You lay in silence, looking breathlessly up at the woman from the bar as she starts ever so slowly rocking her hips. The sharp inhale as her clit grinds against your skin, made easy by her arousal that coats your thigh. Part of you wants to take control, grab Nat's beautiful hips and hold her down against your thigh as she rides you until her vision is tunnelled and blood boiling. The other part of you, the part that wins, can’t move an inch at the sight of the redhead using your body as nothing but a tool to get herself off with.

The sweetest of moans fall from her lips and into the air around you, a song of pleasure you doubt you’ll ever forget. You think if this goes on long enough, you could come from the sight alone: how her body moves as she rides your thigh, the bounce of her peaked breasts as her pace quickens and sounds get louder and skin gets hotter. If you’ve died and gone to heaven, you pray there’s no such thing as resurrection.

The jolts in Nats movement are a testament to her impending orgasm, she’s close, and you can tell. You almost want to buck her off you as payback for ruining your orgasm just before, but every thought of revenge is washed clean from your mind when she reaches down and slips two fingers inside of you without warning.

“You’re gonna come for me,” she bites, hips rocking against your thigh at an ungodly pace. “You’re going to come with me.”

It’s no request. It’s an order.

Nats fingers are skilled, she scissors them inside of you and circles your clit in tandem with her thumb. It’s a celestial experience, the devotion of her fingers inside of you, curling to meet your g-spot as she abuses your clit in the same motion. The sight of her losing herself as she rides your thigh to the end of her sanity— the mess of her hair and glaze of her eyes as he watches you.

“Come.”

All it takes is a word, and you’re coming unmoored beneath Nat. Black spots flood your vision as you drool a string of ‘thank you’ into the sex-heavy air. Nat shakes against your thigh, so deep in her own orgasm that she doesn’t bother to pull her fingers out of you, working on muscle memory.

You just reach the brink of tears, overstimulated as Nat returns to her right mind. You’d bet on giving her the satisfaction of pulling another orgasm from you, but she comes right and pulls her fingers away just in time to let you breathe.

The sun's golden morning glow has since passed, you aren’t sure how long you’ve been away in Nirvana. Nat brings her fingers to her mouth and licks them clean, a pornographic sight that has your glossy eyes wide. Sweat coats both of your skin, breath shared between you are laboured and heavy, and the sun seems cold in comparison to the heat of your skin.

Nat rolls off you, leaving a glistening mess on your thigh and a cold loss at her missing heat against you. When she speaks, her voice is quiet and gentle. “You were perfect.”

Another kiss as she leans over and pecks your lips. A goodbye kiss, maybe— or a ‘thank you’. She moves away, swings her legs over the side of her bed to get up and rub at her eyes, sleep still plagues her.

“I’ll uh, get you some water and find where I threw your clothes last night,” she hums. “The shower is just through those doors, if you—-”

Natasha Romanoff is stitched silent by the hand that grabs her wrist, and the body that climbs over to straddle her lap. Your eyes, dark as they look down at her and lift her chin to force her gaze. The low words you speak by her ear, poison as you parrot her own words back to her.

“Nope. I’m not done with you yet.”

req rules ⁞ request here | crossposted on ao3

[uluvjay]

Daddy?- M. Verstappen

Max Verstappen x fem! Reader

Request: Max finding out that he’s gonna be a dad and then wearing his daddy shirt

Warnings?; Fluff, pregnancy announcement, kissing, cursing, talks of anxiety and worry, lightly proofread, i apologize for any errors!, ending isn’t the best im sorry

You knew the shirt was the perfect way to tell him the second you found it online, after years of jokingly calling him daddy after a tweet you’d seen early in your relationship this was the best way.

However it was no longer a joke and within a few months he’d actually become a father, your little boy or girl soon to be welcomed into this world.

You set everything up while he was at training, in a pretty white box you placed down your original test next to the ultrasound you’d gotten at the doctors a few days ago before covering it up with the shirt.

Putting some pretty white flowers in a vase you set them next to the box, getting the tiny cake you’d ordered ready in the fridge.

You waited until you heard his keys fidgeting with the lock before jumping up and making your way to the front door.

“Hi Schat, everything okay?” He questioned at your unusual greeting.

“Mhm, have something i wanna show you.” You smiled reaching a hand out for him to grasp.

“Okay.” He nodded sliding his free hand in yours and dropping his keys into the bowl my the door.

Letting you guide him into your large kitchen max stayed silent, his eyes admiring the way your hair flowed and the pretty white dress you were wearing hugged your body.

Stopping at the counter your turned around smiling at him brightly, “are you ready?” You asked softly and he could hear a hint of worry in your voice.

“Yes.” He laughed.

Moving out of the way you revealed the box, max looked at you a little confused at the sudden gift.

“If I knew you were getting me something I would’ve gotten you a gift on my way home.” He grumbled, hating when you spent money on him and didn’t allow him to repay it somehow.

“Just shush and open the box.” You laughed.

Max mocked you with a laugh before opening the box, his laugh echoing through the room as he read the shirt.

“A daddy shirt? Who put you up to this.” He smiled looking down at you.

“Pull it out of the box and you’ll see.”

He shook his head before pulling the black shirt out of the box, his bubbly demeanor calming down in seconds at what sat below him.

Picking up the ultrasound he brought it close to his eyes, making sure he was seeing things correctly.

“I-is that…are you-are we pregnant?” He spoke looking down at you.

“Mhm.” You nodded, lip stuck between your teeth in anxiety.

“Oh my god..we’re having a baby?”

“Holy fuck we’re having a baby!” He smiled, thick arms wrapping around your body as he lifted you into the air.

Your legs wrapped around his waist while your arms went around his neck. All the anxiety you’d felt moments before washed away the second his arms went around you.

“I can’t believe this.” He whispered into the crook of your neck.

“Me either.” You laughed, leaning back slightly to wipe the tears that had fallen.

He held you for a few more minutes before setting you softly on your feet and dropping to his knees, his hands rolling up your silky dress to reveal your stomach to him.

“Hi Schatje this is your papa speaking, we’re so excited for you, me and momma can’t wait to meet our little lion.” He spoke softly, his lips placing pecks along your skin.

Standing to his feet Max pulled you into him, his lips locking with yours pouring all his emotions into the kiss, this one was different then his usual strong and dominant kisses.

Pulling away he pressed his forehead against yours, “I love you so much.”

“I love you more, daddy.”

-

[a-small-writer-in-a-big-world]

An idea I have that’s itching my brain. Ex-husband!price, second chance trope? Strangely into this recently

Ex-husband!price who can’t help but call you every time he gets back from a mission and you who can’t help but pick up.

You’ve been divorced for a little over a year now. It wasn’t necessarily on bad terms but the relationship just couldn’t work anymore; with him constantly gone it felt as though he was more of a roommate, a stranger, than the man you loved.

You couldn’t take the loneliness and Price only ever wanted to make you happy, so he agreed to the divorce with the same amount of courage he had going into a mission.

“John?” You asked, answering the call after the third to make it seem like you weren’t waiting for him.

“Hey,” Price smiled immediately when he heard your voice. “I made it home.”

“Good. You’re not hurt are you?”

Price could feel the ache and throb on his body from the mission, especially on his side where he had hit the ground hard because of an explosion. A large bruise had already formed but he ignored it like every problem he had concerning himself.

Just like he had ignored you.

“I’m alright.” He sucked in his lips and cleared his throat. “Tell me what you’ve been doing.”

You really shouldn’t. It’s not like you ended on bad terms necessarily, but you had never known someone to stay friends with their ex-husband before. You knew that these kind of talks might send the wrong message.

It might make one of you believe that there was hope for reconciliation.

“Oh…nothing much.” You kept it vague to deter further conversation and you hoped he didn’t take it the wrong way.

Price didn’t, at least that’s what he told himself even though he felt a pang in his chest while his throat tightened.

He shouldn’t call you anymore even if he missed your voice. Every call was like he was torturing himself, making himself remember what he lost because he couldn’t get his own head out of his ass.

He would’ve stopped after the first call if you hadn’t picked up.

“I just wanted to let you I was home.” He mumbled and you felt incredibly grateful that he wanted to do that.

You may be divorced but you still feared the day one of his men would come to tell you he was no longer alive.

“Thank you.”

“Of course, love.”

It slipped out but neither of you said anything. You both sat in silence, drinking up the presence of each other from the other side of the phone, across cities.

There were so many mixed feelings, all of which neither of you had the words to describe them.

“Goodbye, John.”

“Goodbye.”

When you were gone Price sat in the edge of his bed in the dark. The bed he once shared with you often went untouched, even by him as he couldn’t stand to lay in it alone, even if the mattress was better for his body.

His fingers played with the golden band chained around his neck subconsciously since he was unable to get rid of it.

A/n: take whatever this is lol won’t be a series but might have like a couple other little pieces