#apologies if my words are odd this is because the hour is late and my tongue is loose from a day of being slightly on-edge and more than

[dilfl0v3rss]

Hear me out 😮‍💨 - ony and y/n get in a argument but ony in the wrong and he look for a way to apologize

omg yessssssss bc usually we be the ones in troubleeee. i like how you thinking boo. we gon use basketball player!ony for this one since a lot of people liked it. aight so boom...

the argument

cw: smuttttyyyy

word count: 2.6k

── ⋅⋅⋅ ────꒰ ୨ ♡ ୧ ꒱───────

it was eleven o'clock when your boyfriend finally decided to come home. he had his duffle bag on his shoulder as he roughly kicked off his crocs at the door. you can tell he had an attitude, probably due to something that happened at practice, but so did you. it had been about a month since the the two of you have had so much as a movie night together because he's been so caught up in basketball and school. this was no where near your fault given that you've tried to spend time with him at every opportunity you had, but ony always had an excuse.

"can't mama, finna go to the weight room wit the guys." or "another time baby. coach had us running like a track team at practice." and other excuses like that caused you to stop even trying. and the worst part was, he didn't even notice. ony continued to come home late into the night because of basketball and leave early in the morning for class without batting an eye. tonight you've had enough. he promised to be home by eight since he only had practice from three to six, but lo and behold, this nigga didn't come home until eleven.

"do you know what time it is?" you stood up from your seat on the couch, placing each of your hands on your wide hips. you had to stop yourself from swinging on this nigga when you heard him mumble an "oh my fucking god" after sucking his teeth. "excuse me? you got sum to say nigga?" your were ready to scream. how could he have an attitude right now when he's the one completely in the wrong. he could've at least called to let you know he wouldn't be able to get home on time, but nooooo. he says nothing, and now he comes in the house acting like a child.

"ion got time f'this y/n. i been running around like a chicken wit its fucking head cut off all practice because niggas on the team don't know how to make simple jump shots." you scoff as you heard his excuse. "so first, you come home three hours late. don't call or text me to let me know that you were even coming late. and now, you come in here, don't even apologize, and have an attitude? that's cute. you sleeping on the couch."

your words must've set him off because ony immediately started raising his voice. "here you go wit that shit bro. the world don't revolve around you y/n." you started getting into his face. "i never said it did, but m'not finna sit here and act like ion deserve at least a little of your time. i'm your fucking girlfriend ony. don't you think it's a little odd that you be picking literally everything little fucking thing to do instead of spend time with me?" you can tell you struck a nerve when he folded his lips, looking straight ahead as if you weren't even there.

this was something ony did to keep his anger at bay since he was known to have a really bad temper. "chill wit allat cussing lil girl. m'not finna go back and forth wit you cause you being clingy." you was on ten at this point. you just told this man what he was doing wrong and all he registered from it was that you were cursing? "are you kidding me? you know what? you can have the bed. m'finna just go since m'so 'clingy'. when you ready to be a man and talk then you can call me." you went into your room and grabbed your PINK duffle bag before heading to your dresser to start packing.

ony watched as you stuffed clothes from each drawer into the bag, not even looking at what you were grabbing as tears blurred your vision. as soon as the words left his lips, he immediately regretted them. you had every right to want to spend some time with him given how much he's been neglecting you for other things. he let his stupid attitude get the best of him as soon as he walked into the door. he knew he should've apologized once he got home, but, being the prideful man he was, he decided to just make things worse by being a dickhead.

and now the woman that he loves is crying, trying to leave the house because he doesn't know how to control his emotions. before he knew it, you were at the door. holding your phone in your hand as you dialed your friends number for her to pick you up. ony listened to the phone ring twice before the girl known as eboni answered. "hello?" he wasted no time snatching the phone from you, hanging it up and putting it in his pocket. "the fuck you doing. gimme my pho-"

"you not leaving me y/n."

you looked up at him and were surprised to see water in his eyes. of course the tears never fell because ony never liked to cry in front of anyone, but the fact that they were getting to this point was surprising. you sigh calmly. "m'just gonna stay at eboni's for a couple days until you get your head right." you felt his strong arms wrap around you, holding you tightly as he spoke. "my head is right y/n. i was being selfish and stupid and prideful. i shoulda called or at least said 'sorry' when i got home, but i didn't. i called you clingy and invalidated your feelings. m'sorry furreal baby please just-....just don't leave me."

ony felt you shuffling so you can wrap your arms around him as well. the two of you staying like that for a while before you broke the silence. "i'd never leave you baby, just want you to be a little better wit your time management." he squeezed you tighter. "i will mama. i will" as the two of you loosened your grips on each other, ony lightly gripped your face in his hand before giving you a bunch of soft kisses on your lips, forehead, and cheeks. you were a giggling mess before you lightly pushed him away, making a fake serious face. "you still need to make it up t'me. what you said was mean."

a smirk crept on your boyfriends face as he led you to your bedroom. "ill make it up t'you right now baby." ony lied you down on the bed, removing his clothes until he was only left in his boxers. "take allat off mama i got sum else for you to wear." you gave him a confused look before eventually just shrugging your shoulders and removing all of your clothes. you lied naked on the bed as you watched ony pull his jersey out of his bag, bringing it to you. "put this on." was all he said before you gave him another questionable look.

"cmon pretty i wanna make love t'you wit it on." you had no idea what he was getting at, but you put in on anyways. ony was way bigger than you so the jersey was almost like a dress on you, stopping right below your ass before he lifted it up over you stomach and lied you back down. his body between your legs as he looked up at you. "ready?" his breath instantly touched your pussy, making you jump. before you could even reply, ony got to eating. he licked and sucked your clit like a starved man. long middle finger prodding at your entrance before he slowly pushed it all the way in .

your back arched off the bed as he kept sucking on your clit, middle finger reaching deep inside of you while you moaned his name like a prayer. "f-fuck onyyy" he moved his eyes towards your face, taking in your beauty before removing his mouth from your heat. "look at me baby. wanna see those pretty eyes." you slowly opened your eyes, pretty black lashes fluttering as you tried your best to focus on on him. a small smile crept onto ony's face as he added another finger into you, middle and index fingers digging you out as your eyes rolled to the back of your skull.

there's no way you could keep them open when he's making you feel this good. maybe you should get mad at him more often. your back was still arched off the bed before you felt your lover place his large hand on your stomach, pushing it down as he started fingering you faster. you felt your orgasm approaching as ony held his fast pace, licking and sucking on your clit to bring you to the edge faster. "ahghh...ohh my goddd...oouuhhh shit." you were losing it, hips fighting ony's hand as they twisted and turned all over the place. "i know mama. i know....jus let it out for me." the coil in your stomach snapped, liquid ecstasy flowing out of you and all over your mans face.

you shook in overstimulation as he kept eating without batting and eye. ony's fingers still held their fast pace as your hands flew to his head, trying to push him off and move back from him before you made an ever bigger mess. he bound both of your wrists in his hand before laying it back down onto your stomach. "stop runnin’ mama. m'not done." you were moaning so loud you had to make a silent prayer that the two of you don't wake up with a noise complaint notice on your door in the morning. "f-fuckk daddy ima make a mess pleaseee." you whined, but ony ignore you.

it actually felt like he started getting rougher. licking and sucking your clit harder while his fingers were now pounding into you. before you knew it, you were cumming again, making the mess you were trying to warn him about. you squirted everywhere from his face to his chest, some of it even running down his body and wetting up the waistband of his black briefs. ony sat back on his knees he looked down as your disheveled state. "look so pretty." he mumbled before pulling his underwear down right until his dick sprang free.

his hard length slapped onto his stomach before bouncing up and down due to gravity. doe eyes followed its movements. ony chuckled as he watched you become entranced by his dick. "y'ready mama? if its too much jus scratch my back cause m'not stopping until this this whole bed is wet." you nodded your head he lined himself up with your entrance, sucking his teeth at your lack of vocalization. "cmon baby talk t'me. you ready for daddy to make love t'you?" you look up to see his brown orbs already staring down at you. lips curved into a soft smile as he awaited your reply.

"yes. i want you t'make love to me" ony’s smile widened before he pushed himself into you slowly. eyes never leaving yours, reading your expressions to know when to stop to let you adjust. you were grateful for this because he was nowhere near small, and his girth alone would had you ready to cry at times. soon enough, the space between the two of you was completely gone. dick fully sheathed inside your pussy as ony waited for you to give him the okay to move. the two of you never broke eye contact through all of this and once you gave him a small "okay" he wasted no time.

slowly stroking you as he stared into your eyes. it was like the two of you were taking a look into each other souls. he began picking up his pace, pounding into you the way he knew you loved which caused you to tear up from the pleasure. "how it feel baby?" your back arched into him. the two of you stomach to stomach as ony intertwined both of his hands with yours. you couldn't even speak, using jumbled moans to reply. "aahghh...mmmughh." your eyes were at the back of your skull as you felt the tip his dick begin to kiss your cervix, making your legs open wider as you freed your hands from his and raked them down his back.

ony continued his onslaught on your pussy. letting you scratch up and down his back as he lied his hands flat next to both sides of your head, pounding into you harder. "mhmm sing f'me baby." you screamed as you felt your orgasm come out of nowhere. squirting once again on his dick, but he didn't stop. he fucked you through it, letting your essence splash all over your lower halves as he continued to look down at you. you were absolutely stunning. tears running down your cheeks as you looked up at him. bottom lip being tugged on by your teeth as your body jerked from his hard thrusts. "made my pretty girl cry. you should never be cryin'. daddy can't give you those babies if i be making you cry like that." he groaned before pressing his hand on the big number three on his jersey. he was so deep in you he felt the bulge he was making in your stomach under his hand.

your tears reminded ony of how you were earlier. angry and ready to leave him after he hurt you with his cruel words. he vowed to never do nothing that dumb again. "you only supposed to be crying from pleasure, never pain. m'sorry mama. s-so sorry." you began to spasm around your boyfriends dick, fourth orgasm of the night ready to come out. ony felt this and sped up, feeling close to the edge as well. "you forgive me baby?" his eyes never left your face as you whined out your reply. "i-i f-forgive you daddy. i f-forgive you." you smiled up at him, shakily putting your hand on his cheek. you caressed his dark brown skin as you felt your orgasm approaching. "i wanna cum together papa."

ony kissed into your palm before leaning down and softly kissing your lips. "cum mama. m'right there wit you." the both of your threw your heads back in unison as he gave you three hard strokes before stilling inside of you. cream leaking onto his base as you felt his hot load fill your pussy. you stayed like that for awhile, kissing each other while you caught your breath. ony saw your eyes flutter as you fought off your sleep. removing his jersey from your body before carrying you bridal style to the bathroom. he sat you on the toilet the turned on the shower. "need you to pee before i can let you get in." after you peed then the two of you showered together, ridding each others of the evidence of your earlier activities.

as you got dressed, ony changed the sheets and remade the bed so you wouldn't have to lift a finger. he then carried you to the bed, knowing your legs were probably still a little week before laying you on top of him. "mama?" he grumbled, you can tell he was getting tired as well. "hmm?" "im real sorry okay? never ever meant to hurt you." you lightly chuckled while tracing different shapes on his chest. "i know baby. and i know basketball and stuff could be time consuming and you just wanna do your own thing sometimes, but i just wish you'd give me just a little of your time y'know". ony rubbed on your lower back as he hummed in agreement. "ima do better. tomorrow i got early morning practice so im all yours after class. how that sound." you looked up at your boyfriend. he's doing better already. "sounds great."

[gtgbabie0]

‘I love you’

{Spencer can’t sleep without saying I love you, no matter how mad you are with each other}

Hope you enjoy as always my lovelies! 💕

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

You both shouldn’t have gotten so mad over such a trivial thing, though you suppose it’s been building up for a while now, the lack of communication, the missed dates and whatnot. In all honesty, you couldn’t even remember why you were initially mad at him and now that you’re laying in bed with a tear-stained pillow beneath you, it seems all so pointless.

Arguments are bound to happen in relationships. Two people aren’t always going to see eye to eye, but knowing that doesn’t make it any easier. A part of you is expecting him to apologise and the other half of you is trying to come up with an apology yourself, but nothing happens. Spencer stays in the living room to give you some space and you’re left to simmer with your thoughts.

He was late again tonight, it seemed like your schedules did nothing but clash for weeks and the distance was slowly eating at you until you finally snapped. You’d also blame your own work stress for the anger that pinches at your skin, the same anger that only fuelled tonight’s argument.

Spencer hates it, hates the silence that comes afterwards, albeit arguments between you two were few and far between it still had the same effect on him, the odd sinking feeling that hits his stomach.

You both should just apologise and talk about it like adults, but yet you’re both stubborn in your own rights, and so neither of you do. Instead, you fall asleep alone with a heavy heart, and Spencer creeps into the room hours after with an ache in his chest.

He notices the dampness on your pillow from your tears and it only makes that dull ache in his chest hurt all the more, he gently pushes your hair from your face, tucking it behind your ear as he sighs at the tear stains that paint your face, even in sleep you look sad.

You wake up as he climbs into bed, and you make no effort to let him know, in fact, you’re pretty sure he knows you’re awake when he starts drawing patterns on your back with his finger.

You frown softly as you try to figure out what he’s doing. You're about to turn around and complain, and then you feel it. He gently traces the words ‘I love you’ into your skin, fingers grazing along your spine. You feel him shuffle closer to you, and his lips press gently onto your shoulder, then the soft words, “I’m sorry” leave his lips, and you can feel the guilt drown you.

You turn around, noticing how the tears in his eyes glisten under the warm light of the lamp and you don’t think twice before reaching out and wiping them away, he sighs at your touch.

“You don’t have to apologise, I blew things way out of proportion” you admit. Spencer shakes his head, noticing how you don’t make eye contact with him, and so he holds your hand, his thumb smoothing over your knuckles.

“You had every right to be mad, and we both blew things way out of proportion” he reasons, not liking the sigh that leaves your lips as if you didn’t believe his words. His eyebrows furrow slightly watching the tears collect in your eyes.

The root of your sudden argument was really because were both so tired and missed each other’s touch, which in retrospect should’ve had the opposite effect of what happened tonight, but emotions are a tricky thing,

So that’s why you don’t pull away when Spencer opens his arms out to you, pulling the blanket over the pair of you as you settle against him. “I’m sorry,” you say, his chin resting gently on top of your head as his hand soothes your back.

He presses a kiss to your hairline as you mumble, “And, I love you too” He smiles when your hands dip underneath his shirt, a desperate need of his warmth, you just needed to feel him.

“I love you more” he smiles, his arms squeezing you just a little tighter against him, tight enough to make you giggle, a sound Spencer swears could cure all of his ills.

There's a silence that drapes over the pair of you, and it's not like before it's different Spencer thinks, much more comfortable as he listens to your breathing.

You look up at him, and he catches onto the exhaustion that stains your face, before you can say anything he's already speaking, "You're tired. Get some sleep and we'll talk tomorrow, over breakfast, yeah?" he smiles leaning down to press one last gentle kiss to your forehead, and you would be lying if you said the idea of breakfast with Spencer didn't make you feel a little giddy.

So you whisper a quiet 'Okay' before drifting off in his arms. and you both make a silent promise to talk about it tomorrow, like adults.

⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆ ⋆⁺₊⋆ ☾⋆⁺₊⋆

[chvoswxtch]

happy anniversary

pairing: matt murdock x fem!reader

summary: matt shows up late for your anniversary dinner, so you decide to teach him a lesson in waiting.

warnings: cursing, drinking, lil angst, some fluff, explicit sexual content (minors dni), blasphemy (?), little bit of sub!matty

word count: 5.9k

a/n: once again, no one asked for this. I am just once again being a selfish slut for matthew murdock. also, i'm not catholic (nor do I know that much about catholicism) so if the religious things mentioned are totally wrong or offensive, I apologize. as always, feedback is welcomed/appreciated!

The candles I had lit several hours ago were now completely liquified pools of amber. I tapped my nail against the side of my fifth glass of wine as I watched the flames dance over the melted wax, their glow casting shadows on the one and a half empty bottles of onyx glass. I could hear the faint ticking of a clock as I brought another tart taste of sangiovese to my lips. The flavor profile was sweet in comparison to my own bitterness. I tapped the corner of my phone to illuminate the lockscreen. 10:57pm. No missed calls. No voicemails. No text messages.

The apartment was silent apart from the ticking of a clock, and the crackling of the wooden wick as it burned. If I closed my eyes, I could pretend there was a fireplace in front of me. I could no longer smell the warm clove spice and toasted cranberry of the candle I had been burning all evening, or the fresh aroma of the meal that was still neatly placed on the table. I couldn’t smell anything but the lack of his presence. I wasn’t turning in for the night until he came home. I didn’t care if I had to wait until sunrise. He may escape the dangers that were waiting for him around every dark alley, but he wasn’t escaping my wrath tonight.

I heard the drawn out sound of squeaking hinges as the door to the rooftop was pulled open before carefully latching back into place. Heavy boots thudded against worn wood as they descended the staircase down into the living room, stopping just shy of the final step. Tension hung thick in the air like an ominous fog, and I waited impatiently for whatever excuse was about to tumble from his lips.

“Sweetheart.”

“Matthew.”

Even with the cowl covering most of his features, and the light cloak of darkness, I could see him wince. He knew I only called him by his full name when I was upset with him. I watched his Adam’s apple bob when he swallowed thickly, bringing his gloved hands up to remove the helmet as he cautiously took the last step down into the living room. Normally the sight of his messy brown hair sticking up in odd places made me giggle and wanna run my fingers through it, but right now I wasn’t in a loving mood. His eyes blankly darted around, his head tilting to the side slightly as he gauged the scents and sounds filling the space.

“It smells amazing in here. You..you smell incredible.”

“Do you know why that is, Matthew?”

“Honey-”

“Because I took my time in the shower today. I was nearly in there for an entire hour. I am shaved and waxed beyond your wildest dreams. I am completely lathered in that raspberry iris lotion that you love so much, that you said makes my skin feel like silk. And you don’t even wanna know how much I spent on the red lace that’s under this dress. Not to mention, I also spent hours making your favorite dish, and dessert I might add, because you promised me you would be home tonight. And why did you promise that?”

“Because it’s our anniversary.”

“So you did remember. You just chose to forget.”

“It was just supposed to be a quick sweep-”

“Nothing with you is ever quick, Murdock. You promised me. I asked for one night, Matthew. One. Night.”

“Listen, tomorrow night I’ll-”

“No. Tomorrow night isn’t our anniversary. Tonight is.”

Matthew Murdock was usually able to talk and charm his way through anything. I had to admit, there were a few times it had even worked on me in the past. But I was not falling for his shit tonight. I didn’t want excuses. I didn’t want empty promises. I wanted to teach him a lesson he would never forget. 

“Please..let me make it up to you. There’s still time left of our anniversary, we can still have dinner and celebrate. Let me get changed, I’ll open a new bottle, and I’ll spend all night apologizing between your thighs.”

“Tempting. If you had been fifteen, or even thirty minutes late, but had called to let me know ahead of time you were going to be late, I might have taken you up on that offer. But right now, I don’t think you deserve my pussy, Murdock. I think..you deserve a little suffering.”

Matt’s jaw hardened at my words, and I could hear a quiet whine slip past his lips in the silence. He was usually the one in charge in our relationship, and normally I reveled in it. I loved nothing more than letting him take complete control, obeying his demands, feeling his large hands manhandle me into whatever positions he saw fit. I trusted him completely, and the reward was always overly generous. Matt was a very giving lover, so I let him take me however he wanted or needed knowing we would both reap the benefits of pleasure. But tonight, I would be the one doing the taking.

“Honey-”

“No.”

I downed the rest of my glass and set it down on the table, rising slowly from my seat and crossing the short distance to where Matt was standing. I turned to give him my back, gathering my hair and pulling it over my shoulder.

“Unzip me.”

Matt hsatily discarded his gloves, tossing them into the abyss of darkness haphazardly. He never touched me with his gloves on. He always said he liked to be able to feel me and never wanted anything in the way. His fingers quickly found the zipper of my dress and I felt his knuckles brush against my spine as he tugged the small piece of metal down the middle of my back. I could feel his warm breath against my shoulder, lips dangerously close to my neck. 

“I didn’t say you could kiss me, Matthew. Help me out of this dress.”

I could hear the hum of disapproval that sounded in his throat. He gently grasped at the straps on my shoulders and pushed the satin fabric down over my hips until it pooled around my ankles on the floor. As I stepped out of it, I turned around to face him.

“Sit down, Matthew.”

“Sweetheart-”

“I said sit down, Matthew.”

I could see the struggle written clearly all over his face. He wasn’t used to this, taking orders. Hell, neither was I. But I was going to make the most of it. He walked backwards slowly until the back of his knees hit the chair behind him, lowering himself into a perched position on the edge of the seat. I giggled softly as I took a few steps to stand in front of him.

“Oh, get comfortable, Matthew. You’re gonna be sitting there for a while. Now, give me your hands.”

He didn’t hesitate to raise his hands up into the direction of my voice. I gently wrapped my hands around his wrists and guided his palms to lay flat against the crimson lace teddy that covered my body. A soft sigh came from his parted lips as he began to move his hands slowly over the fabric, fingers gliding over every inch.

“No squeezing. No exploring. No lingering. I don’t want you to touch me. I just want you to feel what you’re missing. What’s been waiting on you for the past four hours. It’s your favorite shade of red, by the way.”

The whine that emitted from his lips went straight to my core. I finally understood what he meant when he would tell me how much he loved the noises I made, and how much of an effect they had on him. It made me feel incredibly powerful to hear him being needy.

“Angel..please. Let me-”

“No, Matthew.”

I pried his wanting hands from my body and let them fall onto his lap. Taking a few steps backwards, I sat down on the chair directly in front of him and sighed.

“You know, it’s really a shame. I was so excited for tonight. God, I was going to worship every inch of you. I was going to let you have me as many times as you wanted. Even when my body was begging for a break, I was going to beg you to keep going. I wanted to spend the entire weekend with you buried deep within me. But, I guess tonight didn’t mean as much to you as it did to me, so I’ll just have to take care of myself.”

“That’s not fair.”

“No, Matthew. It isn’t. It’s not fair that I’m going to have to get myself off when you and I know my fingers don’t feel as good as yours. When we both know they don’t reach as deep. But, you’ve left me no choice. You’re going to sit there, and you’re going to be quiet and listen. You will not touch yourself. I don’t want to hear any begging or any complaining. If you speak without permission, or move your hands an inch, I will leave you out here alone. I will lock myself in the bedroom, and you will have no choice but to listen, knowing you don’t get to touch me. If you’re a good boy, I might just have mercy on you. Understood?”

Matt’s cheeks and the tips of his ears had blushed a deep shade of rose. His mouth hung open slightly as he held onto every word. There was a quiet whimper that escaped when I called him a good boy, but I heard it, and it sent a fresh wave of arousal through me. Oh, so he has a praise kink too. 

“I-I understand.”

“Good boy.”

I grinned as his thighs tensed. I could already see a growing bulge straining against his suit pants. I moved my body towards the edge of the seat and pulled the fabric covering me to the side, completely exposing myself to him. I ran my middle finger up and down my slit slowly, collecting some of the wetness that had formed before bringing my middle and index finger up to rub languid circles around my clit. I sighed softly at the contact that I had been craving for hours. Matt groaned loudly as he listened to my movements. He told me once he always knew when I was turned on, that he could smell the arousal that soaked my panties and it drove him crazy. 

I flattened my palm against myself, slipping my middle finger just slightly inside my entrance as the pad of my index finger brushed against my sensitive nub. I whined softly, beginning to move my hips against my own hand as I felt myself grow wetter. Ever since Matt and I had gotten together, I hadn’t touched myself like this. I didn’t bother. Nothing felt as good as he did. He had memorized my body completely. He knew all of my sensitive spots, where to touch, where to tease, what I liked and what drove me crazy. 

“Can you smell how wet I am, Matthew?”

Matt’s hands balled into tight fists on top of his thighs. He was squeezing them so tightly, they were shaking slightly and his knuckles had turned stark white. His jaw was set in a hard line as he leaned his tense body forward slightly.

“Yes.”

“Can you hear it?”

“I can practically fucking taste it.”

I couldn’t help but grin at the growl that ripped from his chest at his response. Don’t get me wrong, I loved a sweet and romantic Matt. I adored when he took his time, held me close and whispered sweet things into my ear as he made love to me slowly while holding my hand. I loved feeling connected to him that way. I could feel how much he loved me and it made my heart swell. But God did I love a pissed off Matt. 

He was always calm and collected around everyone. He tried really hard not to let his irritations and temper show. But at night when he put on the suit, he got to let the devil out. All that pent up rage and frustration got taken out on the unlucky criminals of Hell’s Kitchen. But I was even luckier when he came home and still had some left to take out on me. I loved when he snapped and lost control. I knew how much he needed that release, but he didn’t understand how much I needed it too. I’ll never forget the night I was finally able to convince him to take it further.

“I trust you, Matt. I know you need this, and I want it. I’m not made of glass, Matty. You’re not gonna break me. Please..use me.”

That was all it took. Of course that didn’t stop him from apologizing afterwards no matter how much I told him he didn’t have to. Now, it was an unspoken thing between us. He didn’t even have to say it, or ask. I could tell as soon as he walked through that door after particularly rough nights what he needed, and it always sent a rush through me that what he needed was me. I was always ready for him, and he knew it.

“Wouldn’t you like to taste, Matthew?”

Matt closed his eyes tightly at my words. His chest had begun to rise and fall a little quicker now that his breathing had become erratic. If it weren’t for the tightness of his suit, I’d be able to see the perfect outline of his cock. I could tell just by the look on his face that he was painfully hard.

“I asked you a question, Matthew. Open your eyes and answer me.”

I didn’t recognize the demanding tone of my own voice. In my head, I was drawing from my own experiences with Matt from when he had been in more dominant moods. He opened his eyes slowly and let a deep breath out through his nose, spitting out his response through gritted teeth.

“Yes.”

“Yes what?”

“Yes I..I wanna taste.”

“Mm, that’s too bad. I would’ve let you have your fill all night, Matthew.”

I began to quicken my pace, now fully slipping my finger inside my entrance. I let out a slow whine, but more due to frustration than pleasure. My fingers weren’t as long as Matt’s, and they didn’t reach as deep. I started to focus on swirling my index finger around my clit, applying pressure ever so often.

Out of the corner of my eye I saw Matt’s hands fly up to grab at the collar of his suit, tugging at it softly with a grimace. I halted my actions as I narrowed my eyes over at him.

“Matthew.”

“Please..can I just take this off? I..it’s too hot. It’s making it hard to breathe.”

“Fine. Take it off.”

Matt didn’t need to be told twice, and I was frankly impressed at just how quickly the suit had been discarded. He let out a sigh of relief as he sat back in the chair, clad in only a pair of black boxer briefs that clung to his muscular thighs. I captured my bottom lip between my teeth as I took in the sight of his half naked form. 

“You can’t come like that.”

“Excuse me?”

“Sweetheart..I know you can’t make yourself come like that. Please, let me help. If you wanna tortue me, fine, but don’t make yourself suffer. Please..let me help.”

“I don’t need your help, Matthew. While I admit, I do come harder and easier with you, I did take care of myself before you came along. It just takes me longer. So, I suggest you be quiet..and patient.”

I began to move my fingers again, focusing the pads of my index and middle fingers on my aching clit. Part of me wanted desperately to give up and just let Matt take over, make him prove all night how sorry he was. But I was stubborn and hellbent on proving him wrong. 

“Baby..please. I-I’m sorry. It’ll never happen again, okay? I swear. Just please..please let me touch you. I need to touch you, sweetheart. I need to taste you. Please.”

“Matthew, this is your final warning to shut the fuck up.”

A strangled groan escaped Matt’s throat and filled the apartment as he threw his head back against the couch in frustration. He braced his hands on the armrests of the chair and gripped onto them so tightly I was certain they would snap. His entire body was rigid with pent up tension and I watched in awe when he started to slowly thrust his hips upwards into nothing. That sight had to be the hottest thing I had ever seen.

“You could come like this, couldn’t you? Just listening to me fuck myself on my fingers?”

Matt whined loudly as he turned his head in my direction. A sheen of sweat had already formed on his forehead and at the top of his chest. His tongue darted out to wet his lips as he sighed defeatedly.

“Yes.”

“Too bad.”

Matt’s eyes widened at my callousness, his lips parting in surprise.

“Sweetheart, I can’t-”

“Now Matthew, we’re playing by your rules, aren’t we? What do you tell me when I’ve been a bad girl and want to come?”

Matt collapsed against the chair and groaned, digging his fingertips into the fabric of the armrests. It wasn’t hard to see how much he detested the taste of his own medicine. I wondered for a moment how long he would actually last through the teasing. I thought about how much longer it would be before every ounce of self control Matt had was completely eroded, and he snapped and took control. At that moment I decided I really wouldn’t mind. I think we both knew when it came down to it, he was a lot stronger than me, and definitely faster. I wouldn’t even make it past the couch before he had his hands on me.

“Only good girls get to come.”

“Same rules apply. Only good boys get to come. And you haven’t been very good to me tonight, Matthew.”

“Angel please..I don’t know if I can hold it.”

“You’re a strong boy, Matthew. You’ll find a way.”

The internal conflict I felt only raged in intensity the longer I watched him. I hated seeing Matt in pain, or upset. I always wanted to comfort him and make him feel better. The world hadn’t always been kind to him, and I always felt like I needed to make up for that. Matt for a moment looked like he might cry, and I instantly worried that I had taken it too far.

“Matty?”

Matt’s head perked up at the change in my tone and the use of my usual calling for him. His head tilted to the side slightly as his eyes blankly stared over in my direction, brows slightly furrowed.

“Yes?”

“Do you want me to stop?”

I waited with bated breath for his response. I knew he was sorry. I could see how bad he felt about tonight. If he wanted me to stop, I would. I’d happily give in and let him take over.

“No.”

I was slightly taken back by the conviction in his voice. I stared over at him silently for a moment, suddenly feeling nervous as I nibbled at my bottom lip.

“Are you sure?”

“I’m sure. I can hold it. Go ahead, sweetheart.”

All my anger from earlier had completely flown out the window. All I wanted at that moment was him. I took a deep breath and got back to work with my fingers. I wanted to come as quickly as possible so that I could finally have him. I scrunched my brows as I began to rub furiously over my clit, whining as I applied more pressure. I could feel that familiar bubble building inside me, but it felt so far away. I dipped my fingers into my entrance to collect more of my wetness and pressed my fingers a little harder against my clit as I rubbed and moved my hips in time with my hand. Finally, it hit me. I moaned softly at the explosion of bliss and fell back against the chair. My orgasm was weak, but I didn’t care. I could finally have him.

I looked over to see him waiting as patiently as he could, panting softly and features contorted in need. I sat up slowly and licked my lips, letting my eyes wander shamelessly over his body.

“Come here, Matty.”

Matt let out the deepest sigh of relief and jumped to his feet, crossing the short distance between us and kneeling down in front of me. His hands grabbed onto the arm rests as he waited for my next instruction. 

“Open your mouth.”

His lips instantly parted, and I slipped two of my fingers that were coated in my release into his mouth. He closed his eyes and moaned as his tongue swirled around my fingers, collecting every drop from them. I whined as I watched him, feeling a fresh wave of need flood between my thighs. I giggled softly when he bit down gently on my index finger, a cheeky grin covering his mouth as he kissed the tips of both fingers.

“Mm, do you think you deserve to be forgiven?”

“No.”

I couldn’t help but laugh loudly at his instant reply, shaking my head as I brought my hand up to thread my fingers through his messy hair.

“Should’ve known better than to ask a Catholic that question.”

The grin on his lips stretched even further into that megawatt smile complete with dimples that made me weak in the knees. His hands hovered over the tops of my thighs, as if asking for silent permission. I gently grabbed onto his wrists and pushed them downwards, sighing at the feeling of finally having his hands on me.

“I think I need to pray for forgiveness.”

I arched one of my brows and smiled softly, tilting my head to the side curiously.

“Right now?”

“Right now.”

I knew religion was important to Matt, but I didn’t think a confession was needed right at this very moment. 

“Okay. I..suppose you better find an altar then.”

“I already have.”

Matt gently squeezed my thighs before slipping his hand in between them to part them slowly. My eyes widened in shock and I let out a gasp of surprise once his words finally clicked in my head. He shuffled closer on his knees, wetting his lips with his tongue once again before whispering huskily.

“May I?”

“Yes.”

As soon as the word left my mouth, my legs were thrown over his shoulders and Matt’s head was buried deeply between my thighs. I grabbed a small fistfull of his hair and cried out in astonishment when I felt his plump lips wrap around my clit and began to suck with fervor. His fingertips dug into the soft flesh of my thighs and I felt vibrations sent throughout my entire body every time he grunted against my pussy. Matt pushed me deeper into the chair as he tried to get as close as possible, nearly suffocating himself between my thighs. I was an absolute mess above him, moaning his name over and over like it was the only word I knew. I nearly lost it when I felt his tongue thrust inside of me and began to explore. 

“Fuck..Matty..right there..please!”

Matt shook his head violently and I screamed as his nose bumped against my clit repeatedly as he ate my pussy like it was his last fucking meal. In a matter of minutes I was coming apart on his tongue, white flashing behind my eyelids as Matt continued to devour me through my release. I clamped my legs around his head and grabbed onto the back of his neck, rolling my hips up against his face as I rode out the high he had brought me to. This orgasm hit me ten times harder than the measly one I had conjured, and I found myself struggling to keep up.

I whined when it all became too much and attempted to push at Matt’s shoulders as I unwrapped my legs from around his head, but he wasn’t having it. He only gripped tighter onto my thighs and continued his assault on my overly sensitive clit. I whimpered softly as I tugged at his hair roughly to get him to move.

“Jesus Matty, please. It’s too much.”

Matt chuckled as he pulled back slowly, licking every bit of my release off his lips. He rubbed soothing circles on my inner thighs as he sat up on his knees with a wicked grin.

“Sorry, sweetheart. I got carried away.”

“Carried away? Fuck, I can’t even see straight right now.”

“Well in that case, I suppose you can forgive me now.”

I slowly sat up and reached my hand out to push Matt’s sweaty hair away that was stuck to his forehead. I frowned slightly as my thumb brushed lightly over a faint bruise that was forming on his left cheekbone. He turned his head slightly to nuzzle his face into my palm, pressing a soft kiss to my wrist.

“I’m okay.”

“I know. I just..hate seeing you hurt.”

Matt gently grasped my wrist and brought my hand up to his mouth, pressing a featherlight kiss to each of my knuckles before he held my palm against his chest over his heart. I could feel it pounding against my palm as he held it there. Matt’s face contorted into an apologetic expression, a deep sigh sounding from his chest as he leaned in closer.

“I really am sorry about tonight, sweetheart. I promise, it’ll never happen again. I don’t ever want to hurt your feelings like that. I just..wanna keep you safe.”

“And I just want you, Matty. I just wanted one, normal night with you. You..you mean everything to me and I had this whole night planned out and then-”

“I ruined it. And I’m not done making up for it.”

“Well..good. Cause that was only like..one Hail Mary, and I’m pretty sure the standard is like..three. I think.”

“It’s five, actually. And that first one you did absolutely did not count.”

I felt my heart begin to thump against my ribcage in excitement. My cheeks immediately flamed with heat at the thought of what was still to come. Glancing down between us, I could see that Matt’s neglected cock was still straining against the confines of his tight briefs. I slipped my hand down his chest and lightly grasped at his cock through the fabric, causing Matt to hiss through gritted teeth.

“Honey, what about dinner? And dessert? You spent so much time on it, I don’t want it to go to waste. Besides, I have a gift for you.”

“The only gift I want right now Matty is the one I’m holding. Everything else can wait.”

I grabbed onto the back of his neck and pulled him in close as I crashed our lips together in a needy kiss. I greedily accepted Matt’s tongue in my mouth and moaned at the taste of myself on it. I dragged my nails against his lower stomach, causing his abs to contract as I dipped my hand into the waistband of his briefs once again to wrap my hand around his cock. He moaned into my mouth and it sent my mind into a frenzy.

He felt heavy in the palm of my hand, and warm. Everything about Matt was always so warm. I stroked my thumb along the underside of him, feeling the velvety smooth skin against my palm as I stroked him slowly. Matt hastily pushed his briefs down his thighs, sighing in relief to finally be freed from the confinements. 

“I wanna taste you.”

“Not now, sweetheart.”

“Matty, please.”

“You know how much I love having those pretty lips wrapped around me, but I’m not gonna last angel. Not after that little show you put on. I need to be inside you, right now.”

Matt wrapped his arm around my lower back and hooked his other underneath my knees, easily lifting me into the air as he stood and carried us over towards the kitchen. I felt goosebumps erupt over my skin as the cold of the cabinets hit my exposed back. I braced my palms against Matt’s chest to halt his movements quickly.

“Matty, please don’t rip this. It was really expensive.”

A devilish grin formed onto his plump lips as his hands slowly snaked up my thighs. He moved in closer until he was flush between my thighs, brushing his nose along my jaw as he nipped softly at my neck. I wrapped my legs around his waist and moaned quietly at the feeling of his lips at the base of my neck. It was one of my sweet spots, and he knew it. I shivered when I felt his hot breath fanning over the shell of my ear.

“Oh angel, you think I wanna rip this off when you look so beautiful in it? It’s staying on.”

Matt quickly shoved the fabric aside before pushing the blunt head of his cock through my folds. I let my head knock back against the cabinet as he pushed himself into me painfully slowly, inch by delicious inch. The sound of our moans mixed together once he had completely bottomed out. 

“Fuck honey, no matter how many times I ruin you, you’re always so fucking tight for me.”

“Just for you, Matty.”

Matt wrapped his arm around my lower back and pulled me closer towards the edge of the counter until our chests were flush together. He didn’t waste any time as he started to thrust his hips at a vigorous pace, his hand slipping between our bodies to press his thumb against my clit roughly. I whined loudly at the pressure and dug my fingernails deeply into his shoulder blades, no doubt leaving crescent shaped indentations.

“God..you always take my cock so well, don’t you sweetheart? This needy little cunt just grips me so fucking well.”

I couldn’t hardly speak. All I could do was hang on. The collision of Matt’s hips into mine and the feeling of his thumb working over my already sensitive nub was very quickly pushing me towards the edge, and I was ready to fall.

“This pussy was fucking made for me. You were made for me.”

“Made for you, Matty.”

I had no idea if I was making sense. I wasn’t even sure if I was speaking English. I tried so hard to stay grounded. I wanted to remember every single second of this, but Matt was brushing that spongy spot inside of me with precise accuracy with every powerful thrust of his hips and it only sent me higher and higher into another realm.

“Fuck sweetheart..not gonna..last much longer. I’ll make up for it later..I-fuck, I swear. I’ll take my time later, angel. Right now I need you to come with me. Can you do that for me, sweet girl?”

I wrapped my arms around Matt’s neck, bringing one hand up to cup his face as I pressed our foreheads together. I leaned in to press my lips to his in a passionate kiss, gently nipping at his bottom lip. I whined in pleasure when I felt his pace quicken at an inhuman speed, his thumb moving so fast over my clit it was practically vibrating.

“I..I love you, Matty.”

“I love you, my sweet girl. Come for me, baby. Let me feel you let go with me.”

My throat burned as I screamed loudly when euphoria finally hit, wracking thunderously throughout my body and drenching me in complete elation like a hurricane. I held onto Matt as tightly as I could, savoring the sound of his honey coated moans of my name that echoed in my ears as I felt him paint the inside of me with his sweet release. His hips stuttered as he spilled his seed over the garden within me, fingers no doubt leaving violet marks on my skin as he thrusted through the aftershocks of gratification.

I hid my face into the crook of his neck, inhaling a deep breath of his scent as I placed a gentle kiss to the spot right below his ear. I felt his strong arms wrap tightly around my waist, caging me against his chest. For a moment, we just held each other as our jagged breaths attempted to return to normal. I nuzzled my cheek against his, welcoming the slight burn of his scruff rubbing against my skin. 

“Happy anniversary, Matty.”

“Happy anniversary, my love.”

My heart expanded in my chest so wide at his words I thought it would bust through my rib cage. I pulled back slightly with a satisfied smile, brushing my thumb along the top of his strong cheekbone as I kept him close.

“Hungry?”

“I’m fucking starving.”

I giggled softly as I smoothed his messy brown hair back into place, leaning in to press a soft kiss to the tip of his nose.

“Fighting bad guys works up an appetite, huh?”

“Well that, and pleasuring you.”

I blushed profusely at his cheeky words, lightly smacking his chest as a deep laugh rumbled from within his chest. Matt’s large hand came up to gently cup my cheek, his thumb lightly tracing my bottom lip.

“But no, actually I could smell your cooking from several blocks away. It made my stomach growl, and then I realized how much time had passed since I had left, and how much trouble I was probably in.”

“You know, for a lawyer, you cause an awful lot of trouble.”

Matt’s dazzling grin stretched across his beautiful lips, those charming dimples ever-present as he laughed and nodded his head.

“True, but I try to make up for it. Speaking of, what do you say I heat up dinner and open a new bottle, we’ll have dessert, I can give you your gift, and then we can resume my apology tour?”

“Hmm, I don’t know if you’ve learned your lesson yet, Murdock. But it’ll give you time to sit and think about what you’ve done.”

“Oh trust me, I’ll never make you wait again.”

“Don’t like the tables being turned, huh?”

Matt smirked and dipped his head, leaving a burning trail of kisses along my jawline and down my neck until he reached my sweet spot. His teeth gingerly grazed my skin as he sucked softly at my flesh.

“Oh angel, I don’t mind you taking control. That was actually really fucking hot. I just really hated not being able to touch you like I wanted.”

“You stand me up again, I won’t let you touch me for a month.”

“Never again, sweetheart.”

“Good boy.”

I grinned at the growl that ripped through Matt’s chest, giggling softly as I lightly pushed at his shoulders.

“Alright, you have a deal. But I have a gift for you too.”

“You are my gift.”

“Matty.”

“Sorry, I couldn’t help it. Alright, dinner, dessert, gifts, then more apologies.”

“Fine. Enjoy your break, Murdock. That was only two Hail Marys.”

“Three more to go.”

[lovelyspooks]

Want you to be okay

I've been falling asleep to this scenario for weeks because I love hurting my feelings and I need to write it down fr

Peter Parker x reader (no specific gender, they/them pronouns)

word count - 1.6k

Warnings - fluff (at the start) but then angst with no comfort, uncommunicated feelings, shi ion know what else to say

You're Peter Parkers main priority, he makes sure you know that but lately you feel second best to the city you both love

It had been three weeks since you had seen your boyfriend.

You had seen him in class and in the hallways at school yes, and you had had the odd few conversations but you hadn't really seen him at all

Every time you made plans something would come up. Something Spider-Man related.

"sorry bug but I can't make it"

"somethings come up... Reschedule?"

"I promise I'll make it up to you" - the latest apology ditch, you stared at your phone sitting on your bed. This was the third time Peter bailed on you this week.

You were supposed to go to this new Spider-Man themed restaurant that popped up virtually out of nowhere. It was supposed to be a laugh, to take time to make up for the last month of distance but of course stupid new York needed saving. Again.

At first you were understanding, I mean new York is big and Peter is one man, of course he's busy. But as of recently it seems like Peter is doing everything in his power to not spend time with you.

"No, he loves spending time with me" You say to yourself but you can't help but feel your trying to convince yourself rather than state a fact .

You shake your head as you get unready to watch Netflix until Peter inevitably crawled through you window with a new injury you'd had to stitch

You were demanding too much, your boyfriend is here risking his life every night and you're complaining you don't get to see him enough. It was selfish. So as much as you wanted to say something, you stayed quiet

You knew you couldn't keep your feelings bottles up, that at some point you would explode, but until then you played the understanding partner

You changed into a clean set of pyjamas and turned on your small TV that sat across your room. An hour turned to two that turned to three and before you knew it, it was three in the morning.

Giving up on waiting for your boyfriend, you drifted to sleep, careful to leave space for him on your bed.

***************

The next day you woke up to the familiar feeling of heat on your back. Peter had finally come to your window at some point and you couldn't help but feel guilty not being awake when he got there

Somehow sensing you're awake, Peter spoke first.

"hi" he croaked into your neck, obviously he hadn't slept at all last night

"you should've woke me up Pete" you scold as you turn to face the boy you've missed so much, checking his exposed skin for any wounds

"didn't want to disturb you bub" he smiles as he moves his hand to your cheek, caressing it

"that's besides the point" you can't help but smile at your boy, you were supposed to be mad at him for not showing up but when he looks at you with his adorable brown eyes, it's hard to stay mad

"I'm sorry I couldn't make it last night" his eyes softened with obvious guilt as his hand continues to hold your cheek

You sigh as you sit up "it's alright Pete, you've got a job to do, the people need Spider-Man"

"yeah but you need Peter just as much" Peter sits up too and places a hand on your knee

"it's okay Pete, I promise, we can just go another day" you spoke reassuringly at the boy

Peter can tell you're upset but drops the subject

"well... I haven't got anything to do today, and neither do you so does tonight sound good?" Peter cocks his head to the side as he asks and you swear you could die at the sight

"I don't know Pete... Something might come up" you try your best to keep a straight face but fail as Peter smiles wide and attacks your face with his loving kisses

You missed this.

SKIP TO LATER THAT DAY

You were waiting outside the restaurant you and Peter picked out, the reviews were scarce but it was Spidey themed, so you picked it anyways

The agreed time was 8pm but you had shown up early just in case Peter had the same idea but it had been half an hour and Peter still hasn't shown up

You checked your phone in case you didn't hear it go off and Peter sent a text that he was on his way but no, no new texts.

You huff as you tap your foot on the pavement below you .

He'll show. He promised.

After another 30 minutes you came to the realisation that Peter had either forgotten or was dead in an alley somewhere and for his sake, you hoped it was the second one

Lost in your train of thought you were interrupted by a not so happy voice

"excuse me, we're closing" a small girl around your age tells you. She's peeked her head out of the entrance door, tired eyes begging you not to argue and comply

"I'm waiting for my boyfriend..." you check the time. Its been 3 hours

You go to open your mouth but the girl simply shoes her head "you can wait, just don't waste your time waiting in someone who won't show" she smiles pitifully and heads back inside

Just as she leaves you feel raindrops fall onto you. Great.

You sigh as you make your way home embarrassed with your head hung low.

**********

It's been an two hours since you made it home and Peter still hadn't called

You've left him hundreds of messages and voice mails, begging to know if he's alive but no answer

It was 2 am when you heard the familiar noise of your bedroom window opening, a cheerful Peter walks into your room and you feel your rage building up

"where were you? I thought you were dead!" you hiss as you leap out of bed

You watch as Peters face falls, noticing your tear stained cheeks he Remembers your date

"shit, baby I'm so sorry, i forgot" he rushes over to you and rises his hands to cup your cheeks but your swat him away

"you forgot? Peter it's been 5 hours! You can't pick up your phone now?" Peters heart clenches at the fact you only care about his safety and not the fact he ditched you again

"it died, baby I'm so sorry" he tries to touch you again but you move back

"don't touch me" your words are daggers to his heart as you stare at him with disgust

"I've been trying to be understanding Peter... For a month I've let you bail on me again and again and again" you start, your eyes well up with tears

"baby you know I don't do it on purpose, it's just-"

"New York needs you. I know Peter, it all I've been telling myself! But you said it yourself just this morning that I need you too!" the dam breaks as tears fall down your face

When Peter doesn't say anything you can only bring yourself to scoff. You walk out of your room and make your way to the kitchen, Peter right behind you

"What do you want me to say? Sorry i missed our date because i was out saving lives?" you turn on your heels to look at Peter in disbelief

"Don't you dare turn this on me Parker!" Parker. You only call him that when you can't see the person you love when you speak, only the one who's pissing you off

"Well it seems like that's what you want!" Peter raises his arms and slaps them at his sides, he just couldn't understand

You both stood in silence for a while, neither of you knowing what to say

"This isn't working Peter" You sigh as you rest your hands on the kitchen counter.

"What?" Peters heart sinks at your words. You can't be serious can you? No. This is all some joke, Peter knew he messed up forgetting about your date but you weren't seriously going to break up with him were you?

"What are you talking about? Baby I said sorry, can't we just move on?" Peter clung to the possibility of you forgiving him and going back to how things were, before he messed up

"This is exactly what I'm on about! You just don't get it do you?" You stare at Peter only to see a confused face

"It's not just about tonight Pete, it's about all the times you've bailed to go on patrol, half the time you don't even tell me! And what am I supposed to think hm? I'm up all night wondering if you're alive and then you waltz in here like nothing happened with another injury!" You were exhausted and wanted to sleep but you need Peter to understand

"you knew what you was getting yourself in to when we started dating y/n. I told you it wouldn't be easy"

"Well I guess I thought I'd have my boyfriend to help me didn't I?"

"That's not fair"

"Just go Peter" you sigh as you cross your arms

"No." He argues back

"I said go!" you walk to him and push his chest as hard as you can. Peter doesn't even stumble as he looks at you with tears in his eyes

"Go! Go! Go!" you push him with each word, tears streaming down your face

Before you can shout another word Peter takes a step back

"If you really want me to leave, fine just..." He tries to think of something to say, a final plead, anything to make you wrap your arms around him again

"I love you." he whispers out, to his disappointment you stare at him, teary eyed as you bite your lip

Peter pulls his mask as he turns to walk away but no before giving you one last pleading look

When you say nothing, Peter lets out a shaky breath as he leaves. As he swings away he can't help but listen in to you coke out smuffled sobs

He did this to you.

[oonajaeadira]

i was rereading a GTTT chapter and Patricio has just been in my mind rent free, creeping in from daydreams in places i should not be daydreaming. So I’ve got a PATS question for you. How would Patricio and Reader navigate the issue of him being too drained sexually when Reader is needy?

Hello, lovely.

First of all, I want to apologize for the long hiatus I've taken on Pats and Pres. This ask--and many more--have been sitting in my inbox for far too long and I'd like to think that answering late is better than never. Thank you for your patience with me!!!

This is a very interesting question and it sparked some over-arching thoughts. I have half an answer for you here--from his point of view, and therefore the "drained" part of it. Pres may not seem too needy here, but look to the next installment for more on that.

Also, a non-apology here to everyone.

For so long I've made you believe that Patricio is confident, in control...or at least in denial about it when he's not. But he's growing. Changing. There may be more vulnerability here than you want and much less sexy times. Not everyone has a good day every day.

Kiss and Tell: Everyone's Allowed a Bad Day (GTTT PATS)

FANDOM: Calls - Apple TV (PATS is a character from ep. 3. “Pedro Across the Street.” This is not RPF.)

As with all of my PATS installments, warnings abound for explicit content. (This one's much tamer than most.)

(gif by cavill-henry)

It’s nights like these that he sometimes wished he smoked. He’ll pour himself a drink once the client wakes up and leaves, but he doesn’t want her to catch it on his breath.

Bourbon. Bath. Bed. Maybe something short and calm on streaming. There’s a new cowboy film just dropped by that Spanish director looks good. 

Leaning on the kitchen counter and staring out across the silent living room, he contemplates the novel you left on the coffee table. Wonders if you’re missing it.

It occurs to him that he could call you. He can do that now. He doesn’t need a reason anymore, but even if the reason is a rough day…actually, maybe that’s even more reason to call you. In fact, he really should ask you–

His phone vibrates on the countertop and he frowns. It’s your pattern and his heart races a little, not only because it’s you, but thinking he’s been lost in thought too long, that he’s missed the three-hour mark. But a flip of the phone shows him he’s got 20 minutes to go. 

Odd. It’s not like you to interrupt a session.

“Hey, muñeca, everything okay?” he mumbles, stepping barefoot out onto the front porch in nothing but his sweatpants.

Your voice sounds far away, “Oh shit,” before a riffling sound and then a clearer, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to hit dial. I didn’t know I did. I was going to call and then I saw the time…I know you’re in the middle of a session, oh loverboy I’m so sorry–”

Just the sound of your voice is an instant balm. “It’s okay, it’s okay, she’s sleeping. I was actually just thinking about calling you.”

“Oh, really?” There’s something there behind your fluster, hiding among the smile in your voice, something that he might not have noticed if you hadn’t said you meant to call.

“Something you wanted to call me about?”

There’s a sound in the background. An announcement. You’re in public. “Um, no, not really. I just had a lonely moment, that’s all.”

“Well that’s an ego boost. You wanna come spend the night?”

There’s a pause. Shocked, judging by your voice. “Really? On an appointment night?”

He scratches his head and focuses on his feet as he aimlessly paces the porch. “Sure. I mean, if like a quarter after ten isn’t too late for you to drive just to go to bed.”

“With the weather shifting and how warm you run? It’s never too late to say yes to a heated bed.”

He smiles. “Glad I can be of service.” There's silence from you and he cringes. “Shit. Not you– not– Was that a bad choice of word?”

“No. It’s just–”

“Hey. I want you here tonight. I wanna talk to you.” Another silence. He supposes that sounds ominous. It shouldn’t. “You know, here. Not…on a phone.” He’s still not good at this. 

“That sounds nice…. You, uh, need anything? I’m at the grocery store.”

“No. Just you.” It feels good to say. Right. It’s what’s needed to break what feels like an odd tension into a few comfortable, mutually smiling moments. “So. The grocery store. And you’re feeling lonely. At a grocery store.”

Your laughter--hushed but musical--is kept close to the phone. “Well I am standing in produce and they just got in some preeeeeetty nice looking eggplants.”

“Wow.”

Another laugh, less hushed, throatier. “Okay, I’m sorry! I’ll let you get back to your work. I assume you’ve got a sleeping beauty to wake up.”

Pulling the phone away from his face for a timecheck, he winces. “Yeah. I’ll see you in 20?”

“I’d say I can’t wait, but you know that I will.”

Wow. “I know and I…”Something sweet twists inside. “I know.”

After you hang up he stands a minute more on the porch in the dark. The leaves are almost all off the trees now, the crickets are gone. His feet are freezing and the skin on his torso is goosebumping; doing its best–and failing–to lift his fine hairs to shield him from the autumn chill. But it’s far from unpleasant and he finds that he’s awake for the sensation in a way he hasn’t been in a while.

He’s alive again in a way he hasn’t been in a while.

The last couple of months have been…nothing short of amazing.

He should tell you that. He should say it.

But he’s got to get to that point where…he accepts it. 

Not the relationship…the fact that there’s always a possibility it’s too good to be true, that he could lose it. He could lose you.

You’re handling everything so well, but for how long? How long until you make him choose?

Oh fuck, please don’t make me choose, preciosa, please.

The phone buzzes in his hand. Timer; no need to look, just thumbs the button to silence. On another night, he’d allow himself more time, let the client sleep while he mused. But he’s got a job to do. 

And someone special arriving soon.

So he packs these thoughts away and goes quietly inside to prepare.

________

He’s just poured the detergent in the washing machine when he hears the door open. “Hey, I’m just cleaning up, gimme a second.”

Out in the entry, your shoes clatter on the floor and then your keys jingle on the kitchen counter and before he knows it you’re on him, topless and crowding him against the washing machine, kissing him like he’s just come back from war. It’s jarring but pleasant and full of hungry sighs…until there’s a ping in his calf muscle.

“Ooh, hey, Pres, hey hey, hang on.” Taking your face in his hands he calms, he whispers, he soothes you in order to soothe himself, but you catch on instantly, concern splashing over you.

“Are you okay? Did I hurt you?”

A kiss to the tip of your nose, to your smart little nose. “No, no, I’m a little sore; just had a difficult session–a difficult day, actually. And I haven’t showered yet. So don’t get yourself too worked up here. You don’t want me like this.”

He expects you to recoil from this, to find the sex with someone else still lingering on his skin. You don’t.

You simply run your hands over his sides, lean in to kiss his chin. “Of course I do. I want you like whatever you are.”

You’re backlit from the kitchen and there’s something like a soft halo around you, bringing a glow to the roll of your cheeks, the swipe of your lip. Tracing these with a finger and finding himself reflected in your eyes, he trusts you, accepts this, tries to see himself like you do. How are you so effortless?

There’s nothing but surrender when you rake your fingers through his beard and push yourself up onto tiptoe to press a warm kiss to his forehead. “But if you really feel that way, beautiful, let me run you a bath.” 

Everytime he opens his eyes and you’re there, it's like a small miracle.

“Come on,” you smile, taking his hand and guiding him to the stairs, “let me take care of you and you can tell me about your day.”

You’re perfect. He’s so grateful he picked up the phone tonight when he did.

________

“Mmmmm, that’s good.” The sigh comes up from his bottom wells, like a contented creature crawling out of hidden caverns within. The back of his head rests in your palm, warm water spilling over his scalp. Your hands whisper and calm and soothe. He spends so much time using his touch to bring relaxation to others that he’d all but forgotten that it could go the other way. And your touch–

“So there was some heavy lifting tonight, huh?” Your finger lightly wipes away an errant rivulet from the corner of his eye. “Ness, right?”

The ghost of irritation looms. “Mmm. She has a pretty severe tailbone injury. Didn’t tell me about it before she showed up. Lot of full-body lifting on the table just to get her in the right positions for stretch.”

“I see. You’ll feel it tomorrow. And sore tailbone means no actual sex tonight.”

“Oh no, we had some fun. She’s got weeks of recovery ahead of her and she needed some practice re-routing some natural orgasm responses to different muscle groups when she ejaculates.”

“Ejaculates? She…? Ohhh.” A loving hand begins to wander lightly over his chest. “I assumed. My bad.”

“Sorry. Should have been more clear. But yeah.”

“No need to apologize. I don’t know why I hadn’t just assumed that you…took all forms of payment.”

He peeks an eye open to catch your reaction as you reach over the side of the tub toward him and finds your warm, curious smile. “Not to disparage the vaginal anatomy, but sometimes it’s nice to have my dick handled by someone who has a lifetime experience with their own.”

“Noted. Fair.”

Closing his eyes and sinking into the warm bath of your care a lifetime goes by with your hands running over his skin.

“You’re very accommodating.”

A kiss lands on his temple. “Wait until you realize I’m terribly selfish and am in it for the rewards points.” When his smile fades, your hands slow. “That was a joke.”

“I know.” Sensing a shift in tone coming when he turns to you, you instinctively pull back, but he catches your hand in his, pulling it in to place a wet kiss to your knuckles. “Would you mind if I don’t want to have sex tonight?”

“Of course. That’s okay.” A half-smile. Are you covering disappointment?

“I’m more than happy to go down on you if you–”

But a shake of your head stops him. “No, it's fine. I can tell you’re tired. You said you had a hard day. Wanna tell me about it while we get you dried off and into bed?”

He feels like a child as he simply nods, allows you to help him up, succumbs to you as you care for him. It’s easy to do, to melt under your attention, to crack open and spill. He does his best not to control the spread as he generalizes a failed report at work, a difficult project he’s fallen behind on. By the time you’re sliding into the sheets and curling up next to him, he’s breaching the topic he’s been deciding and undeciding and deciding again to tell you about–that his mother called without warning.

“She wants to meet you.”

Your breathing stills in the darkness. “You told your mom about me.”

“Is that okay?”

“Yeah, I..” you stutter, “I guess I didn’t… I’m flattered that you talk about me?”

There’s a pang of guilt that he’s let you believe you’re not important enough for him to tell the world that you’re in his life. But he sighs as you squeeze your arm around his middle. “You might feel differently if you met her.”

“Are you kidding? I’d love to meet your…is it just your mom?”

“And my father. I have an older brother but he lives in Australia. Doesn’t go home much.”

“Home issssSantiago?”

“Just outside of it. Rancagua.”

Another squeeze. Perhaps that was a lie; your arm around him and the brush of your lips on his shoulder feels like his true home now. 

“So this call was stressful because she wants to meet me. And you’re nervous?”

“The call was stressful because…I don’t…want her to meet you.” Your squeeze lightens a bit and he slides his grip over your arm in case you decide he’s awful and want to pull away. He knows he should let you go if you want to but– “I wanted to ask you, Pres…I’m sorry I don’t know if I can ask this much from you but–”

It almost breaks his heart when your arm slides through his hand, when your warmth leaves his side, when you abandon him…

But it’s only for the time it takes to hear the click of the bedside lamp, register the bright sting and spill of light, and you’re back beside him, leaning over him, turning his face to yours with one patient hand on his cheek. “What’s going on. I’ve never seen you like this.”

Shit. Get it together.

“You’re going to think I’m a fucking jerk–”

“Don’t tell me what you think I’m going to think, sir. Tell me what you need from me. Just say it.”

This leaves him with depleted gambling chips, raises the stakes. But you’re right. He has to be honest.

“The relationship I have with my family is…strained. That’s why I live here and not there. I see them somewhat regularly, but the holidays are when the whole family gets together–all the cousins–and it’s just a lot. There’s a lot that’s expected, a lot of judgements…it’s overwhelming. I can barely make it through myself, but having you there? Watching you be scrutinized on top of it when we’re just figuring this out? I just…no.”

“You know I won’t tell them–”

“It’s not that, fuck, it’s not that.” He surges in for a kiss, taking you in deep, willing you to understand him by osmosis; if only… “Every time I’ve gone down for the holidays it’s stressful enough…it’s…it’s bad enough that I’m away from my clients, but–”

“But under stress the itch gets worse. And you don’t have your outlet. And you’re not in control.”

Oh god, you see him. You see him and he’s so…fucking pathetic.

The last thing he expects is for you to pepper kisses along his mouth and chin, to dot a lingering one on his cheek before pulling him into your chest, to cradle him, breathe into his hair.

But it’s exactly what you do.

“What do you need, beautiful boy? Anything you want.”

He breathes. Sighs. Curses himself for doubting you, for assuming you wouldn’t surprise him. Allows you to hold the weight of his heart on your own without a spotter.

“I need to…not do the ‘meet the family’ thing this year. I just want you to myself for a while.”

A hum of sympathy, of bittersweetness, one that stakes his heart into the ground at your feet. “Oh Patricio. Is that all?” Your breast moves under his cheek as you lean over to turn off the light, your soft curves and soft scent and soft hum whispering to him, calming him, soothing him into you. “I’ll admit that I’m a little sad that I don’t get to show you off to my family, but I definitely see the appeal of a quiet holiday season, just us hiding away from the world together. You want me to yourself? Did you really think I would find that anything but absolutely wonderful?”

All at once, the strains of the day overtake him, the need to say more is gone and took his energy to do so right along with it. A whole lifetime of relief in just an hour. That’s your secret power. Always has been. He cannot think of words more meaningful than, “Thank you.”

Your fingertips begin their pattern of affection along his jaw, tattooing a spell of sleep through him. “This really means a lot to you, huh.” He’s too gone to get his voice to work and it seems you assume he’s fallen asleep. “Well you mean the world to me. You don’t even know, mister.”

It’s not worth the effort to drag himself from the downward pull of dreams to ask you to say more about that. Not when he knows you’ll be right here in the morning and he can ask you then.

Or say the same thing right back to you.

Maybe this time he’ll find a way to do that.

______

MASTERLIST

SERIES MASTERLIST

[zgvlt]

tried and tested and truly yours sebek zigvolt x reader

summary: Sebek, the bodyguard of famous celebrity Malleus Draconia, is a regular at your café. With his frequency in your establishment, conversation was inevitable, though he never would have expected you to become anything beyond a late night acquaintance.

tags: gender neutral reader, sfw, fluff/romance, aged up characters (since they're all working), no magic AU, 12k+ words, not beta read

author's note (see end for more): (Belated) HAPPY BIRTHDAY SEBEK and (Belated) Happy Anniversary, TWST JP! Since my first fic was also on Sebek's birthday last year, Happy 1 year anniversary to my blog! Yippee!

you can also read this on AO3

“Hello! You’re here again.” Sebek looked up from the menu to stare at you, not unkindly but in a not exactly friendly way either. “Dear regular. What will you be having tonight?”

You recognized him as the man who frequented your café at odd hours—always your first customer in the morning, loudly declaring the same order and quick to leave; always your last customer in the evening, quietly eating until he was forced to leave. He recognized you as the owner of the establishment—he had thought you to be the manager once with how present you were, but the way you dressed freely and lacked a name tag suggested otherwise.

“I’ll have honey lemon tea,” he replied easily, heeding the recommendation his two bosses gave him. It would be good to keep his voice loud and healthy, they said, and who was he to not follow such a well-meaning, wise suggestion? “Hot, please.”

“Alright,” you replied, scribbling something on your notepad quickly, “and for something to bite… The usual, sir?”

Sebek nodded, “Whatever went unsold, I’ll get it all.”

You smiled brightly. He remembered you used to be visibly shocked the first few times he dined in, even concerned for his wallet with how much he ordered. He had huffed at the time, proclaiming that he was very well compensated by his very well-off employers, and that there was no use in worrying about him or his appetite. Nowadays, though, with the growing popularity of your business, you seemed more concerned about whether you had enough to feed him with.

“It’s really nice that you eat well,” you said, “does it have something to do with your job? You know, like people who compete in bodybuilding have to eat a certain amount and eat certain things to develop their body a certain way when they work out.”

“You’ve never asked me about my profession before,” Sebek noted. Many people would have stopped at that and you did look like you were about to apologize for prying, but he was, honestly, extremely proud of his job, so he found himself talking about it anyway. “But yes. Eating a certain amount is a part of my training regimen! How can I protect Sir Malleus properly if I can’t utilize my body efficiently?”

You blinked. “I’m sorry, protect who?”

Sebek’s first instinct is to groan to himself—that was a slip of the tongue, he should have been more careful with his words…! What if you’re some delusional fan who’s going to pester him about Malleus Draconia?! What if you’re an anti who’s going to try to use him to get close to the man and try to harm him?!

“Malleus… I feel like I’ve heard that name before. Is he a model or something?”

The second instinct he has is to immediately educate you, because unless you’re extremely good at pretending—he has to keep his guard up before he can clear that doubt about you—you seem to not know who Malleus Draconia is, which is an act malum in se… A crime in and of itself.

“How do you not know the greatest performer of the century? The Malleus Draconia!” Sebek exclaimed, shaking his head. Simultaneously, he brought out his wallet—but not to pay for his orders yet. Rather, snuck in a slot right in between his credit card and debit card, he pulled out a photo card, one of the man being brought up. “This is Malleus Draconia. He was a talented stage actor in his childhood, then he became a soloist in his teenage years, before returning back to acting, this time in movies and series, in his adulthood. He also models, yes, in commercials and magazines, but it is not his main profession. 

“Surely you must have seen him somewhere? Perhaps you simply did not know his name but your eyes have been graced with his performances!”

“Um, I hate to break it to you… I don’t think I know any of his songs, or watched anything he’s in,” you admitted, though upon locking eyes with him for a few seconds you ended up adding, “I’m sure he’s very talented, though! I mean, he certainly looks the part of someone popular. I’ll, err, do my research once I get home? If I don’t pass out in bed immediately,”

“That’s WONDERFUL! Of course, if you are truly as new to him as you say you are, you will have much to catch up on,” Sebek sighed, as though pitying you slightly, “but it will certainly be worth it. If you’re quick to invest enough, I won’t be surprised if you begin begging me for tickets to his concerts or fanmeets, or if you try to bribe me to get his signature. I won’t do it, mind you! So I’m warning you now!”

It was a very genuine warning, but something about the look on your face perturbed him. Could it be that you had plans to do so?

“So during these fanmeets and all these other events… You’ll be in attendance?” you asked, and Sebek scoffed at the question. Was it not obvious?

“I’m one of his bodyguards,” Sebek proclaimed with pride, “I am always in attendance, not only in the case of an emergency, but to support him as well!”

“I feel like you’re about to tell me something along the lines of ‘If Malleus Draconia has 1 million fans, I am one of them. If he has 1,000, I am one of them. If he has one, that is me. If he has none, I’ve departed from this world,’ or however the saying goes,” you laughed, and Sebek had almost begun an argument about how Malleus had more than one million fans, thank you very much! His MagiCam followers were only surpassed by the likes of Vil Schoenheit and Neige LeBlanche, who were active on social media, so it wasn’t a fair comparison! 

“I think it’s nice that a serious guy like you has this kind of passion, even if I wouldn’t have been able to guess it,” you said, “everyone must feel really reassured that they could rely on someone dedicated like you to protect such a high-profile celebrity.”

“Hmph! Of course they are!” Sebek was practically preening at your compliments, readily accepting them. “It’s good that even you, who hardly knows anything about Malleus Draconia, can recognize that!”

“Feel free to tip me for that if you want,” you said, “that was a joke by the way, I was being genuine.”

“I know it was a joke.” Sebek did not know, actually. He was fully prepared to tip you more than usual for engaging in this type of conversation with him. Somehow, he found himself more rejuvenated than usual, even though he had quite the tiring workday. Hopefully the tea would do the trick and, if not, he supposed some late night lifting back in his apartment would get him sleepy!

“Alright,” you smiled, as though you didn’t believe him. “I’ll go prepare your order, Sebek.”

“I’m surprised you remember my name,” he admitted, “you always call me your regular or something else instead.”

“Sebek, you’ve spelled out your name for me so many times for your coffee,” you reminded him, “S-E-B-E-K. I’m sure anyone would remember a name yelled out at five in the morning, practically every day.”

“Right,” Sebek turned away from you, flushing slightly in embarrassment. Of course that made sense. He was a frequent customer. If not you, then one of your employees would write his name down on a coffee cup. Sebek was not a particularly common name, too, so obviously you would recall.

“Since you know my name, though, I should know yours as well.”

You never wore a name tag, after all, so all this time he’s been calling you the person who owns the café in the building of my work place, which was a mouthful and just, honestly, plain neglectful of him. How rude of him! He should correct his impoliteness, shouldn’t he? It was simply right and, well, he should work on doing right so as to not bring any blights to his employer!

“Is that so?”

You didn’t answer him initially, focused on preparing his orders and, right after, charging his card for the bill. However, when he gets his receipt, he finds it jotted in pencil at the back, alongside your MagiCam handle and phone number—for emergencies it says, right beside an asterisk, or if he needed something delivered to his workplace.

Sebek doesn’t do social media, nor is he particularly social anywhere, mostly using his phone for work, to keep up with anything to do with Malleus, or to catch up with his family, but he keeps the receipt tucked in his wallet instead of throwing it out immediately. 

For emergencies, of course, though it’s not so much for him but more so for you. Not having any security guards in your café this close to midnight? Sure, the city was relatively safe, but there were dangerous people everywhere. Though he was not employed to protect you, he still frequented your café, so he found it important to make sure you were safe. It would be troublesome if something were to happen to you or your business.

That was all there was to it so, despite the regulations he had, self-imposed or otherwise, he found himself not just saving your number, but replying back, warning you to not spread his contact details anywhere.

Aside from a promise to do so, you text him something you’ve already told him a while ago: Good night!

Perhaps he should have reminded you to only text him for important matters, but maybe it was a good thing that he didn’t. He did not reply, but he made sure to greet you a good morning in person the next day.

Sebek’s eyes have constantly been flickering between Malleus Draconia and the crowd coming to see him this whole time, that being for about an hour now, and as much as he enjoys seeing people recognize the celebrity’s talents and efforts to the point that they would line up for hours to see him, the whole affair is, for once, relatively uneventful. 

He’s grateful, of course, that there’s no one to have to restrain for once; even his boss seems genuinely relieved that the event thus far had been very peaceful, what with him flashing a rare grin (with teeth!) instead of his usual closed-lipped smirks and smiles. 

What a blessed day to be a supporter of Malleus Draconia. 

That was why, although he still tried to keep vigilant, he found himself relaxing slightly, just soaking up the good atmosphere.

Then you showed up. You were still wearing the clothes he usually saw you wearing in the café, but the hat you had on your head really made it difficult to distinguish you from the crowd until you eventually removed it, right when you were already in front of Malleus.

Why didn’t you tell him you were going to attend?! You never even showed any interest in attending when he told you there was going to be a fanmeet today!

Then, you placed a paper bag on top of the desk. The contents had to be food, Sebek was sure, because while you did your best to cover up where the food had come from by using something plain as opposed to branded packaging, there was no hiding the familiar smell of pastries within.

Really, it showed that you were awfully new to events like these. Though the rules differed from celebrity to celebrity, Malleus specifically was not allowed to accept foods that were not, at the very least, sealed and packaged. For safety reasons, unfortunately, but a measure that had to be done.

Still, because you, from what he knew of you, were a well-intentioned person, he didn’t want to embarrass you in front of anyone. He was already making his way to grab the paper bag himself, as well as give you a reminder for the future, when you decide to tell Malleus something, muttering low enough so as to not be heard by anyone else.

“Nice to meet you, Malleus,” you said, shaking the hand in front of you, “Sorry if this is impolite, but could you give this to Sebek?”

Sebek nearly screamed. He really was about to, but he just about managed to hold back, merely jolting in place. His fellow guard slash his other boss’ assistant slash adoptive son, Silver, stared at him pointedly. 

“You know one of my bodyguards?” the black-haired man asked. While Sebek could not see his expression from his vantage point, he did sound intrigued by you. “Are you Sebek’s…?”

“He didn’t come by my café this morning,” you said, finally glancing towards him. “I was concerned he hadn’t eaten anything yet.”

“Oh I wouldn’t worry about him. He had a hefty breakfast, I promise,” Malleus laughed, “though I’ll make sure to give this to him anyway, since you worked so hard to bring it here.” 

“Thank you, I really appreciate it. Sebek was right about you being nice. I’ll try to support you in the future,” you promised, “I’ll be going now. I don’t want to take away any more time than I have from your fans.”

“Alright, take care,” Malleus said, and Sebek watched you walk away with a smile, wondering to himself who exactly it was meant for considering the difference between who you were talking to versus who you were looking at. 

Malleus spun around to hand the bag to him, eyes gleaming. 

“Well, you might as well prepare yourself. Lilia is going to pester you about this later,” he laughed ominously, promptly turning back to the crowd to greet his next fan before Sebek could get a response out.

“You must have lined up for about an hour just to get to the front,” Sebek said, confronting you as soon as he got back to his hotel room. Through the phone, he heard you let out a hum of agreement. Sebek sighed right after. “You didn’t have to do that.”

“I was expecting you! You said you’d be able to go get your morning coffee,” you retorted, “well, ‘coffee’, quote-unquote, it’s more like milk with a dash of coffee… But seriously, isn’t it normal to get worried, especially because of the type of job you have?”

Sebek glanced at the mirror, the visual representation of his heated face reflected right back at him. 

“Something came up. We had to leave earlier than usual, so I couldn’t stop by,” he explained apologetically… and blatantly ignoring the comment about his tastes in caffeine. “You could have messaged me.”

“You don’t check your phone during work hours,” you reminded him, “unless it’s work related.”

“How sure are you that I would not have checked?!” Sebek asked, rolling his eyes despite the fact that you would not be able to see it. “Seriously…! I got a severe questioning from my boss because of you!”

“Oops, sorry!” you apologized, not sounding all that sorry. “What did Malleus ask you? I can’t imagine him as the type to grill you all that much.”

“Not much, thankfully, since, AHEM!” He cleared the non-existent phlegm in his throat, using that time to think of some other response other than the truth. “He mostly did the listening, not the questioning. Our chairman did.”

He inevitably went with the truth.

“Damn… your chairman?” you laughed, though it seemed more sympathetic this time, “You didn’t get in trouble, did you? I know some people are particularly strict with, you know, how they operate during work hours, who they associate with, not allowing people in your personal life to interact with people in your profession, things like that.”

“No! No, he’s terrifying sometimes, but he’s extremely compassionate too!” Sebek said, defending the man, “Although the questions… I would have preferred not to answer them at all…”

The recollection of the earlier event, the awkwardness and embarrassment he felt as he was questioned about you of all people, everything about it made him groan in annoyance. It felt like no matter what he answered, he found himself digging into a deeper and deeper hole that he couldn’t get away from.

“Okay, I won’t pry about the questions since you seem so pained by the memory,” you assured him, “even if I’m curious, so… Let’s talk about something else, then, if you’re not busy.”

“I’m not busy,” Sebek said quickly, even though he was rather tired from everything today. It was just… talking to you, yes, so it wasn’t like he would be exerting that much effort by staying up a few minutes later! The only difference between talking to you back at the café and talking to you on the phone was distance, obviously.

Never mind that, at the time, he was there as a customer and right now, well, there was no real reason for him to speak to you without the proximity binding you two to converse. 

“Are you sure? You sound a little tired.”

“Me? Tired? Do you still not know me well enough to be able to suggest such a thing? The events of today are not enough to make use of all of my strength, mind you!” he huffed, incredulous at the suggestion. “Even if I were to stay up for three consecutive nights, I would be able to do it!”

“Would not recommend that, even if it’s for work.” He imagined you shaking your head at him in some form of disapproval. “How was the coffee, by the way? I hope it was still warm by the time it got into your hands.”

“It was actually, yes.” His eyes darted onto the coffee table, the mint green tumbler sitting there, emptied and washed. “The insulation was good and it kept the drink sufficiently warm. I must ask where you bought it! I should replace my current water bottle with something similar.”

“Ahh… Just keep it, then,” you told him, hastily adding, “I haven’t used it yet, by the way! So you don’t have to worry about, like, my germs or something.”

“I can’t possibly…” Sebek said, trailing off as he listened to your protests. “Fine! Let me pay for it, then.”

“Sebek, no.” He tried to imagine what type of expression you would have on your face by now as you tried to argue with him. There were some complaints and banter, yes, but insistence regarding something so simple was new in regards to you. “Just consider it as a thank you for being my regular.”

“Absolutely not, then. Goods and services are meant to be paid for, and I’ve paid for them appropriately. It’s not like you’re handing them out to me for free. If anything, shouldn’t I pay you extra for doing a delivery run even when you did not have to go that far?”

For a moment you did not say anything, and Sebek thought he had finally won against you. Then, as though to let him know your silence was simply spent thinking of the perfect response, you replied,

“Then it’s a gift,” you told him, “because you’re my friend.”

“FRIEND?!” Sebek blurted out, before clearing his throat the second time that night. “Ah! Well, yes, of COURSE. This is normal behavior for friends to exhibit, yes. The exchange of gifts. Tokens of friendship.”

“Yeah? I mean, not everyone really needs to exchange. Sometimes, just receiving or just giving is enough,” you pointed out, “but you know, it feels nice to let your friends know you appreciate them any way you can, and that you’re appreciated, too.”

“Of course,” Sebek nodded to himself. Payment wasn’t what you wanted. What you needed in return was something… heartfelt and genuine. It was like one of his favorite Malleus Draconia movies, where he, to show his appreciation, gifted his dear ally something practical, something special, something he knew they would enjoy. It was such a good movie he had teared up, and what kind of fan would he be if he were not to heed the morals of the media he consumed? “I’ll keep that in mind.”

“That’s oddly intimidating, but alright,” you replied, yawning midway, “Alright, it’s getting late, and if not you, then I should go get some rest, so… See you tomorrow?”

“I won’t be there in the morning,” he let you know, “but I’ll see you in the evening.”

“Okay.” He imagined your smile, the one you usually gave him when he entered and left your café. He imagined you were smiling before you hung, and when you hung up it was only then that Sebek realized the call had gone longer than he had thought, and that he was still dressed in his suit.

It was thereafter he remembered that his room was right beside Malleus’, who tended to stay up late with Lilia, who often had Silver by his side, and thus…

Someone knocked on his door, a familiar beat of a song from his hometown. When he opened it up, he was only slightly surprised to be face to face with his fellow bodyguard, somehow awake at this hour. 

“Sebek, try to lower your volume next time,” the light-haired boy sighed, “father told me to let you know he and Malleus could hear your lover’s quarrel from the next room.”

He felt the red seep back into his face, though he wondered if it had ever really left in the first place.

“I’ll go over and apologize… even if it’s not a lover’s quarrel!” he boomed, before shutting the door behind him. Next to him, Silver shrugged.

“Okay, maybe we just misheard.”

“And misunderstood, too,” Sebek added. They walked a few steps in the hallway, walking away from room 1703 stopping right in front of 1704, Malleus’ room. Before Silver could use the keycard, Sebek halted the action. “Wait. Answer me this before we enter.”

“Sure?” Silver asked, confused by how sudden it was brought upon him. “If I can, I’ll try.”

“Silver… What kind of gifts do friends usually give each other?”

“SIR! What are you doing here?!” 

At his exclamation, Malleus Draconia looked away from his conversation partner, you, to acknowledge his presence. Beside him, you smile and wave at him, as though beckoning him to come closer. He could not compel himself to do so, choosing to stand right next to the door.

“Am I not allowed to be here, Sebek?” 

He froze, panicked and unsure of how to respond. Who was he to dictate where the man was allowed to go, especially a place not just harmless, but a place he was fond and familiar with? If anything, his pre-existing preoccupation with the establishment should have assured him that nothing terrible would happen to his employer.

Beyond safety, the person who ran the business itself was one he approved of beyond measure, thus… 

“There’s no reason you shouldn’t be, sir!” he replied hastily, gaze avoidant of your own, focused on the tall man. “I was just shocked to see you here so late, and without Sir Lilia or Silver by your side!”

“Even before you and Silver were enlisted as my guards, I’ve been accustomed to taking walks at this hour. You’re not the only creature of the night, after all.” Malleus moved to stand up from his chair, the seat he (and you) preferred to occupy during nights like these, walking towards him slowly. “Since I understand now why you frequent this place, I should take my leave.”

Sebek let out a sound of protest instinctively, ready to either drive or walk the man back to his home or whichever location he wanted to go to next, but Malleus waved him off.

“I don’t need to monopolize any more of your time, especially since you just got here. I already have your company nearly everyday for multiple hours a day.” His gaze drifted back to you, looking unsure as to whether you should insist on having Sebek escort him or otherwise. “Unlike a certain someone. I’ll go hail a ride by myself.”

“Do… Do you have the app for that installed on your phone?” Sebek asked, admittedly doubtful at the actor’s ability to book one for himself. Not that he could dare say his concerns out loud.

“Kids these days… Lilia taught me how to do it, remember?” he deadpanned, “now leave me be and don’t even think about being back at the hotel room until at least midnight.”

“Did you just get a reverse curfew?” you muttered in disbelief, attention all on him as Malleus took his leave. 

“I’m… a little confused myself,” Sebek admitted, “but I’m sure someone as intelligent as Sir Malleus has his reasons for imposing a, as you said, reverse curfew. In fact, I can think of a few right now!”

You looked surprised, which was an offense (none taken, but an offense nonetheless) to him. Sure, he would not say he was one hundred percent sure, false advertising was a crime, but he was at least ninety percent sure, which was more than decent by his standards.

“Oh? What do you think Malleus is trying to do?”

“It’s not that he doesn’t have his own sense of agency, but I have my reasons to believe that the chairman influenced him to visit you during his free time,” Sebek sighed, growing more and more embarrassed as the list of reasons began writing themselves in his brain. Was he actually going to reveal all of it to you?!

Of course he was. He never quite got the ability to keep his mouth shut unless told or, well, with you sometimes.

“Him coming here was probably due to a few things. First, they’re trying to teach me some kind of lesson. That is–”

“Wait, lesson?” you laughed, finding his answer a little absurd, “Do you think seeing me is a punishment?”

“OF COURSE NOT!” he denied immediately, “To imply as such is downright repugnant!”

“Pfft, it was a joke!”

“I don’t see how it could be humorous.” Sebek shook his head, wondering how you could afford to smile at his displeasure. What a terrible thing for someone to find your company even the least bit unpleasant; even more terrible, for someone to think he could dislike it, dislike you. “In any case, what I meant by lesson is that they might want to remind me that, as a bodyguard, my protection should not be limited to my employers and family. Rather, it should extend to good people. Like you.”

“That’s… That’s quite the sweet conclusion to arrive to, but…” you trailed off for a moment, as though hesitating to continue. “Sebek, do you really think that’s the reason Malleus told you to stay?”

“It would make sense, but there are other reasons, I’m sure.”

“Okay, then tell me another, since I’m not too convinced.”

“Well… It could be a reward,” Sebek said, “for a job well done. Instead of having to continue working at this hour, which I would be happy to do, I’m proud of what I can do as a bodyguard. I’m sure some consideration is in play by allowing me to spend time with a friend instead.”

“Ah, well, yes, but also no. I’m not sure how you can get it, but also not? At the same time?” you laughed, awkward but not demeaning. It still perturbed him, though.

“Okay? Then explain your thought process, then,” Sebek huffed, slightly frustrated at what he was not getting, “You seem to have talked a decent amount with my boss before I got here, somehow to the point that you can understand his way of thinking already.”

“I would, but he told me to keep it between us.” Before he could complain and demand to know anyway, you switched the subject very deliberately and, to your fortune, rather effectively. “So you think getting to spend time with me is a reward?”

Sebek’s eyebrows furrowed, indignant at your choice of ignoring his inquiry and at himself for not catching his word choice. Reward, was that the word he used?

“Hmph! Don’t get too haughty about it now!” he insisted, a warning that you would likely not take to heart, “It’s less reward and more a rewarding feeling, like something nice to look forward to before I end my day.”

“I see.” Except you’re not looking at him again, despite there being no one else to look at. Sebek should be frustrated, as he tended to be when people did not pay attention to him when he addressed them, but there’s something soft about your expression that has him okay with the slight impoliteness. He supposed even someone like him could fall victim to favoritism after all.

There’s another reason he could have told you that comes into mind, but he swallows it for now.

“I’ll go get you something to eat,” you told him, suddenly standing up and leaving him alone at his usual table. Sebek realized that might have been the first time the both of you had simply talked without anything in front of the both of you, no barriers, no disruptions. It was like those signs that were hung up in establishments sometimes, telling people to talk or read a book instead of using their phones and asking for the internet password.

Sebek abided by those quite a lot, reading whatever book he could lay his hands on (or an electronic book if his bag was strapped for space), but he never could have imagined talking to someone about… topics that he had never discussed with anyone, for a lack of a better term.

“There’s something I’ve been thinking about.”

“Yes?” You looked up suddenly from the plate of pastries you had picked up for him, genuinely curious and perhaps even showing an anticipatory flash of excitement. “Lay it on me.”

“So how long was my boss in the café? If you can’t give me the specifics… What were the topics, at the very least?”

“Oh? Interrogating me, are you?” you laughed, as though amused, though you looked away and had gone back to piling pastries, now on a second plate, so he could not see your expression. “Don’t worry, I only said good things about you.”

Shame as it was, it was alright. Even without seeing your eyes, he knows you are not one to lie, especially with such a matter important to him.

On one hand, he likes (more than, even, perhaps adores) the idea that you talked about him, good things at that. Beyond that, the idea that you could compliment him to his superior, a person he’s heavily respected since childhood, pleased him heavily. With that said…

It’s not jealousy or envy, per say. He knows what those taste like—he’s been eating and swallowing them up for years, after all—which is how he knows what he’s feeling isn’t anything associated with the sin. Rather, he supposes he’s… concerned. That talking to others about him would give you a certain impression of him, one that’s not very capable after all, even though he goes on and on about how dedicated and passionate he is when it comes to his job.

Dedication is one thing. Ability is another.

The thing is, Sebek’s come to the realization that he wants, needs you to think of him as someone capable, though he can’t be sure why the idea of you in particular showing disappointment in him scares him so much.

“Do you think I’m lacking in any means?” Sebek breathed out the question without any context, and while you looked somewhat surprised at the question, you don’t grill him for it either. Maybe you understood what he meant—you had gotten good at that, he thought, understanding him in a way others failed to.

“I can’t say for sure,” you replied honestly. You sit in front of him once more, placing two plates in front of him that would go unnoticed and untouched for a little while longer. “When it comes to work in particular. However… Most people aren’t exactly built to be perfect in everything, so everyone is lacking in something.”

You could have stopped there. It’s a model answer to a question he had sprung up on you for no real reason other than to see what you think or, maybe, to reassure himself over this and that. 

You don’t stop. Instead, you looked him in the eye and asked,

“Do you want me to tell you what I really think?”

“Please,” Sebek said, desperate not just for praise, but for feedback. As long as it was an opinion you held of him, that you had an opinion on him that wasn’t so… typical, he supposed.

“I think that when it comes to your character, I think you’re doing your best to become better and better each day. Whether this is the path you continue to take in the future or not, I think there’s one thing you will never lack—it’s your dedication.”

Sebek’s beaming the rest of the night, even when it’s mostly silent—him regaining his energy and calories, you asking him questions here and there about his day, him throwing them back at you. It’s peaceful and he’s happy, he’s happy and it’s got nothing to do with Malleus or Lilia or winning in a friendly martial arts spar against Silver; it’s got nothing to do with his parents doting on him or his siblings making him his favorite food. It’s got all to do with you and it’s just… terribly wonderful. 

It’s a minute after midnight when he stands by the entrance again, smile a little smaller, regretful to have to go, but teeth still blinding nonetheless. He’s thinking if he should ask if he can help you clean up next time, or if he should offer to drive you home—some other excuse to stick around a little longer, all under the guise of his boss’ orders, when you interrupt his reverie.

“Sebek, before you go, I need to ask you something.” You stood by the door. You don’t invite him in nor do you step outside with him, but you keep the door open to be able to talk to him. “Or tell you something. Both.”

“What is it?”

“Malleus told me your awareness levels are… a work in progress, but do you really not understand his intentions? Or, one of them, at least,” you asked, “I’m sure he and Lilia and Silver are very nice people who genuinely want you to spend more time with me as a friend, and that they’re curious about me as a person because I’m your friend, but it’s a little clear to me that they’re trying to see if they can get something else to happen by giving us more time alone, or purposefully seeking me out during a time you would usually come by.”

Sebek did not answer immediately, not because he did not understand where you were getting at, but because he had not wanted to acknowledge it. His awareness skills, he was told, were something he needed work with, but the base level was not zero.

After all, every mention of you brought upon implications upon implications. At that point, even he would get it. It was just that… it was embarrassing for you to realize it as well, so he tucked the reason he was very well-aware existed at the back of his mind.

Unfortunately, you already realized it, too.

With the silence that followed, you decided to continue.

“Malleus told me to keep this a secret, but it didn’t feel right,” you admitted, somewhat cautiously, like the man would be able to hear you break a promise, “so I’m telling you now. He was asking me what I thought about you, mostly, or what I felt. Anything to gauge if the two of us were actually in a relationship or if there was some way to set us up or get us together.

“It’s nice that he cares, but, you know, still a little shocking to have some world famous celebrity come up to you and ask you about your intentions with his bodyguard. Shouldn’t it be the other way around?”

“I have to apologize,” Sebek said, unsure of who, if there was anyone, really, to blame for the situation. He knew you had started it by appearing in their sights during the fanmeet, but he was the one who brought you up, and… Sebek was loathe to so much as think it, but even his seniors played fault, too, no matter how well-meaning they were.

“I’m sorry for bringing you into this. They’re just… I don’t mention anyone other than my family. I’m not exactly the most…” His voice dropped to a whisper, as though unwilling to admit something. “What I’m trying to say is that I hope you’re not off put by me all of a sudden because of this.”

“What? Of course not!” Without a second even passing you had countered the idea immediately, and in the evening, the sun had shone in his heart once more. “I was worried you would be put off by it! I mean, you never… I mean I like having you around, so it would kind of, really suck if you stopped because of, you know.”

You waved your hands around, unable to find the appropriate word. Sebek, articulate as he tried to be, understood the feeling this time around.

“No, no! It’s not a big deal to me! These kinds of things happen all the time in the entertainment industry, I’ve heard all the complaints first hand! If they’re mentally strong enough to handle all those rumors about them, then something this small shouldn’t bother me, nor should it you!” he proclaimed, and you nodded your head in agreement. 

“Thank the Sevens… I was seriously worried… You’re too important to me.”

Sebek stiffened in place. For a moment, he thought he would burst into… something, maybe flames, maybe an explosion, just something crackling and sparking and sparkling. You looked like you had expected him to shout, too, but when his voice had left his throat it had cracked like he was going through puberty once more. Uncertain, unsure, unconfident—words that he believed had long left his vocabulary since.

“I’m important to you?” Sebek did not quite realize it then, but he asked not for a clarification but a repetition. He heard it right, but what he needed was to hear it again.

“You’re important to me, Sebek.”

Sebek’s face was colored a bright red—he can see it through the nearby window’s reflection, hazy as it may be at this hour. 

It’s through that reflection, too, that he realized his hands had been shaking, torn between wanting to cover up his face and the smile growing back on it, to trying to hold onto… something, someone. He settled for curling one up in a fist, then clutching the lapels of his suit jacket the other. 

“I SEE! I SUPPOSE I…” He tried to respond with his usual bravado, but he could not compel himself to do it this time around. “Ahem, I…”

“Hey, you don’t have to–”

“No, let me say it,” he interrupted quickly. Your consideration was always appreciated, but he wanted to make things fair, to make sure you understood. “To you, I feel the same. You are… You are someone I… 

“You are precious to me.”

“Ah?” You let out a huff, some kind of sound of disbelief. He can’t blame you—he had meant to echo what you had told him for it would be the truth anyway, and yet a different statement had come out instead. “I thought you were going to say… Seriously…!”

Then, you shut the door on him. Before Sebek can so much as worry if he had suddenly ruined everything, you go from leaning against the counter—the transparency of the door had ruined your ability to hide yourself from him—to stomping right back up to the door, opening it wide.

“I’ll see you tomorrow. Please stay safe on the way back,” you breathed out, somehow looking more frazzled within such a short time frame.

“Of course I will.”

“Okay. Good.” Then, you do something he had only seen people do in the movies, something he had thought would never happen in real life, much less to him. 

You pulled him closer by his tie, almost as though you had wanted to drag him right back inside with you. Instead, though, you tug just strong enough to make him jolt forwards, letting him do the work of aligning himself to be right in front of you. With an anticipation he had never felt before, he abruptly shut his eyes, not knowing what else to do. 

Unlike the movies, you don’t leave a kiss on his lips. Because you are friends, and most friends don’t just… do that, he thinks. However, the chaste peck you leave on his lips does not feel that friendly either. 

There’s room for doubt, of course, because you are one of the only friends he even has, and the feelings he has with you have felt different than everyone else, but he just knows, for once not with his mind but with his heart, that he should not have felt that way receiving a kiss on the cheek from someone he saw as…  as…

“Good night!” you shouted, emulating his usual volume, before running back inside, actually trying to hide yourself from him this time.

On the drive home he tries to simply move past everything, but the whole event—the whole night, really—just keeps replaying in his head like a broken record. The stoplight is green and he’s thinking about how you’re such a wonderful friend and that you were exhibiting normal friend behavior. The stoplight is red and he has one hand off the steering wheel, too busy keeping it next to the cheek you had kissed.

Sebek tried to move on, really, but the thing is—

It’s almost one in the morning, so it’s a given that all the stores are closed. Some stores, however, keep the lights in their display windows open. He never would have noticed it before, but with Silver’s voice ringing in his head, it taunts him now.

—Sebek’s not very good at moving past anything.

Sebek didn’t believe in magic, he was a little too old for that, but that did not stop him from believing you might have cursed him somehow, maybe put some kind of magic in that tumbler you gave him, or the sweets he definitely did not enjoy that much and only ate for the dose of carbohydrates he needed.

It had to be some kind of curse, because why else was he actually heeding Silver’s advice—Silver, of all people!—regarding what kind of gift you might enjoy. Why was he pulling up his maps application for a store he had never even known existed until he passed by it some nights ago while thinking about you! Isn’t that crazy?!

“I can type it, you know,” you offered, comfortably strapped with a seatbelt at the back of his car. “Not that I know where we’re going in the first place, but…”

“I’ve got it,” he insisted, having already saved the address previously. “You’ll see. It’s just ten minutes away from here.”

“Should I be nervous?” you asked with a short laugh, “I feel like I should be, especially since I’m strapped so securely at the back of your car instead of, you know, the front next to you.”

“It’s what I’m used to, so it was just my instincts telling me to make you sit there,” Sebek admitted, “you can sit at the front if you want later.”

“Nice! Still don’t know where we’re heading, though. I don’t recognize the store name you inputted.”

“I passed by it while driving home one time,” while I was freaking out thinking about you kissing me, except not really the type of kissing people expect when they hear the term kissing, except it felt like a real kiss to me  anyway !

“I thought you might like some of the items they sold there.”

“Aww! Since when were you such a sweetheart?” you cooed, and Sebek used the excuse of being too busy paying attention to the road to respond to what you said. 

“I’m surprised you’re free today, though, since you don’t seem like the type to skimp out on work. You give me the vibes of someone who would try to train somehow by going to the gym or something when you have a break.”

“That’s true,” he replied, “though I’m not some kind of musclehead, if that’s what you’re implying!” he said, “I also do other things, though, like dropping by bookstores in the area, or attending interesting lectures in my alma mater, or–”

“–or seeing your favorite café owner after hours?” He looked at you through the rear-view mirror, watching you eye him expectantly. You might even be pouting—he’s not sure, he doesn’t want to spend too long looking at your mouth. He sighed.

“No, I do that even when I don’t have days off,” he corrected you, “It would be more accurate to say that I also spend my afternoons with a café owner, now.”

“What’s with the aversion to calling me your favorite? Do you have another café owner friend that I have to worry about?” you complained, more as a joke than anything, but Sebek felt compelled to appease you anyhow.

“Accusing me of being disloyal? How insolent!” he huffed, “Did I waste my paid leave on you after all?”

Sebek was lucky he was the one behind the wheel, considering you looked just about ready to slam the horn of the car… or slam him against it, he can’t be sure.

“Wait, I thought you were free?!”

“I AM! Why do you think I’m here? I took a leave, which means I’m free for the rest of the day!”

“I thought it was just a day off or something! Like, Malleus told you you didn’t have to accompany him anywhere or something!”

“I mean he did tell me that, or else I would be working.” He rolled his eyes, because was it not obvious that he would not just skip work if he felt that he was needed? He did not even think he would be ALLOWED to. “I’m healthy enough to never be ill so I don’t use them up. If anything, they were very much alright with letting me take a leave once I told them my reasoning.”

“Well when you put it that way,” you laughed, “they probably think you’re getting time off to take me out on a date or some–SEBEK EYES ON THE ROAD!”

“Don’t spring up something like THAT on me all of a sudden!” His hand gripped the wheel tightly, chest heaving as he very nearly ran a red light. “Not that you’re wrong, but, you know!”

“I definitely won’t while we’re on the road,” you muttered, tearing your eyes away from him to look outside of the window, “but, like… You know they’re going to ask you about today later, right?”

“I have time to figure out how to word my report.��� He cleared his throat, “Okay, wait, we’re here. You can step out and head in already,  if you want. Parallel parking is… parallel parking.”

“No, no, I want to see how long it takes you,” you snickered, “come on, if you want to boast about being a terrific driver, this is essential to perfect.”

“Heh, you think you’re so cheeky and clever. This is why I shouldn’t favor you over anyone else—you’re too keen on taking advantage of it!” Ignoring that he had essentially admitted that he did favor you, he shooed you out of his car. When it came to parking properly, he had to use all of his mirrors and… Honestly, he was a little terrified he’d damage someone’s car because he miscalculated, distracted by your presence.

It takes him three minutes, which is way better than his latest record of four. He thinks it might be because he doesn’t want to keep you waiting, knowing he wouldn’t want to be kept waiting, too.

“Sebek, look!” You tugged onto the sleeve of his sweater as soon as he entered the store, attempting to navigate him carefully through the aisles, shelves filled with fragile objects and breakables that neither of you wanted to pay for.

Taking him to a more secluded area, you pick up a mug to show him.

“Doesn’t it look like you?”

“Because it’s green?” he deadpanned.

“No, no, look closely at the crocodile!” you argued. It was hard not to look closely since you were waving it right in front of his face. Other than the similarity in colors, he’s really not sure how it’s supposed to be him.

“I don’t see what you’re talking about.”

“I’ll make you see it then,” you proclaimed, “I’m getting it, then I’ll serve all your hot drinks with this mug so you’ll be forced to stare right at it. Then, you’ll realize I’m right.”

“You’re getting it because it looks—because you think it looks like me?! What kind of reason is that?” he coughed, pretending he did feel the least bit flustered by you. He took you here because he thought you might appreciate getting some nice mugs or plates or something for your cafe, and the first thing you pick out is something for him?! Isn’t that just unfair?!

“Oh, and I’m getting this one as well!” His eyes follow your fingertips, seeing you point at a mug themed after a brown rodent. Given that the animal-themed mugs seemed to be in alphabetical order, then that one was…

“You know capybaras are too big for crocodiles to swallow, right,” he explained, wondering if you were being purposeful in your selections thus far, “that’s why they can swim in the same waters.”

“In my heart of hearts that means they have a close relationship! Which means, I’ll be using that mug from now on, thank you very much,” you grinned at him, and all Sebek can do is take the two mugs from you, a lot more careful with his hold than he usually is. He’s pretty sure there’s only one left of the designs you’ve picked out, so it would be troubling if anything had happened to them.

“I can’t say I would have picked THESE out, but we went here for you, after all,” he began. He really did think there were designs more to his taste, like the squirrel themed one he saw by the display window, but he did not take his leave to go shopping for himself.

He was heeding Silver’s advice by getting you something practical you could use and, well, this was what he had thought of.

“So if you like these, then we’ll get them.”

“Wait… Sebek, are you offering to pay? I…” you trailed off, clearly remembering something. “No way… Is this about the tokens of friendship? You never forgot about that?”

“I use the tumbler you give me all the time. It’s pretty good for when I need something to drink during workouts, or keeping my drinks warm,” Sebek explained, “I wanted to get you something you could use all the time, too, so if you’ll let me pay, I’d be more than happy to!”

“I’ll think about it… I’m definitely not letting you pay for anything else I pick up, but if it’s those two…” you hummed, not giving an answer right away. 

That was fine by Sebek, who had made a numbered list in his head of things he could do for you as some sort of… he didn’t know how to describe it. Something to prove himself to you, he supposed. Impress you, maybe, or simply make you happy with him. Happy in general.

“You know, I’ve heard people talk about whether people should split the bill on a date or not, but I never really hear discussions about whether people should give gifts or not,” you laughed, “not that this is a date, but the same principle applies.”

You’re walking away from him, perusing the rest of the ceramics and metals, and it’s then the impulsiveness wins in him.

“I MEAN, IT’S NOT LIKE–” He forgets himself and where he is, but you’re walking right back up to him, so he supposes his volume was alright in the moment. When you’re close enough, though, his voice drops to just above a whisper. “It’s not like it can’t be a date. You don’t have to insist that it isn’t.”

“Well you didn’t call it one when you popped the question all of a sudden at five in the morning!” you argued, “Wait, you’re not saying date as in platonic date, right? I have nothing against it, but I don’t want to misunderstand–”

“I meant it in a… in a… You know! The not-just-platonic way!”

“Romantic?” you supplied helpfully… or maybe unhelpfully. He knew the word! Saying it out loud, in public, was just embarrassing for him! Not embarrassed of you or his feelings or anything, just embarrassing in general. He wondered how the leads in those dramas and movies and books made it look so easy when it was the most nerve wracking thing he’s done since his job application!

“Yes, romantic!” he exclaimed, suddenly grateful that there were no other customers besides them, and suddenly uncaring that the only other person—the cashier—could hear him. “If you want!”

“I’ve extended my café hours from eleven in the evening to midnight for you, in case you haven’t noticed,” you informed him, “Do you think I just added salmon pasta to the menu on a whim? Obviously I only added it because you said you liked it!”

“Well you’ve never told me that!” 

“Well, should I go ahead and tell you now? Sebek Zigvolt, terribly intelligent, incredibly cute, and occasionally dense, I–”

“Wait no!” He notices his grip tighten on the mugs, and he softens it just in time before any chips or cracks could appear on either one. “Not that, you know, I don’t… We shouldn’t say that here.”

“Why not?” you asked, not offended but certainly curious. 

“I want it to be more… special?” he cleared his throat, “Not that it can’t be, since you’re here, but I want to be more prepared when I say it, or when I hear it. Whichever comes first.”

“Okay,” you responded, nodding in understanding, “yeah, maybe this was a little out of nowhere. We don’t want to have regrets or anything.”

“No, we don’t,” he agreed. As much as he thought he would not regret any of his feelings for you, he did not want you to look back at this day and wish he had admitted his feelings for you some other way. He needed it to be perfect. “I’m glad we’re on the same page. About this and about, ah, our feelings… Right?”

“Right!” You left little room for doubt with your answer. You never seemed to when it came to Sebek. While he had absolutely no plans to admit it to your face anytime soon, he appreciated the lengths you went to make sure he would never misunderstand you or your intentions. Just as he was a man devout to chosen people, he was a man prone to doubt.

“That said… Is your offer to count this as a date still up for grabs?”

Sebek Zigvolt was well into his twenties, so the idea that he was back to talking to an inanimate object—a mug of all things—was bizarre to him. Downright embarrassing, actually. Sometimes he found himself regretting buying that squirrel-shaped mug, but you were just way too convincing and now he uses it to store his toothbrushes. Wonderful.

“Should I do it today?” he asked. It had no mouth so it could not speak, but the painted-on eyes staring back at him held a resounding no. 

“You’re right. Domesticity is one thing, but is it not too casual to confess in my apartment of all places…?” he murmured.

He checked his teeth for any food or stains one last time—old habits die hard when your parents are dentists—before leaving the bathroom.

“Thanks for letting me have lunch here,” you told him. You’re putting your shoes back on already and it reminded him that he, too, had to get back to work in a short while. “It’s hard to have a relaxing meal in my own café sometimes. I feel like I’ll end up doing work instead of eating.”

“And that would be no good! One must always rest without the distraction of work in the midst!” Sebek declared, walking over to the dining table, finding that you had already washed the dishes without him. You even remembered where he hid the towels—it took you longer to find them last time.

“Exactly, so I hope you don’t mind me coming here again. Though, if you’re free, I also know a good–”

A knock on the door interrupted the both of you. Sebek frowned, immediately reaching for something he could use to whack someone with in case of an emergency. Meanwhile, you walked over there without any hesitation.

“I’m already heading out anyway, so I might as well,” you explained, partially unlocking the door to get a peep of who was outside. “Oh. Silver, right?”

SILVER?! What was that man doing outside of his apartment? Not that he’d never been, but still! Couldn’t he have at least sent a text or call warning him? How rude, especially since he had a guest over, and…!

Oh Sevens, he had you over, and Silver saw. 

“That would be me,” the man replied, face less stiff than usual. His expression is somewhere in between actually smiling and trying to de-widen his eyes. “You’re Sebek’s…”

“Yeah, let’s leave it at that,” you laughed sheepishly, “I assumed you would be Silver because of the hair. You probably get that a lot. Anyway, SEBEK! YOUR FRIEND IS HERE!”

“WHY ARE YOU SHOUTING,” he shouted, “I CAN SEE HIM.”

“THEN I’LL LEAVE YOU TO IT,” you shouted back, “I’LL GO BACK TO WORK NOW.”

You unlocked the door fully now, allowing Silver to enter, you to exit, and Sebek… to also exit right after you. He knew it was not very hospitable of him to leave Silver to tend to his apartment, but it would only be for a minute anyway! The INTRUDER could handle himself for that long!

“Hold on,” Sebek called out to you, grabbing hold of your hand. “I should give you a proper farewell. It’s good manners.”

“You’ll see me again later anyway,” you laughed, “okay, come closer.”

Sebek’s gotten himself into a certain routine, he would put it, one that he loathed to break. Routine was routine for a reason, and there was no reason for him to not abide by it. What must be done shall be done.

You pressed your lips just next to his, narrowly avoiding them in favor of the corners where his smile lines were. Sebek suddenly wanted to go on a run so he could blame the sudden spike of his heart rate on the physical activity.

“I’ll see you later,” you said as you pulled away—from his face, from his hand, from him. This would have been the part where he would have offered to either drive or walk you back, but…

He sighed as he went back into his apartment. He wanted to muster up a frown for Silver, but he was still too giddy to stop himself from smiling in time. 

“Who said you could make yourself home in my place?” Silver, seated on his sofa and idly watching the news on his television, looked back up at him with a cup of coffee in his hand. Thankfully not one of the few cups you’ve brought and left in his apartment, but still. “And why are you here anyway?”

“I was nearby, so I thought it would be more efficient to ride together. Save gas, it’s better for the environment.” The man took a sip of his coffee (without sugar or cream or milk! Just how did he manage?), humming appreciatively. “Huh. Your partner’s pretty good at this.”

“That’s true,” Sebek replied, and then realized his mistake. “But, like I said, the two of us are NOT in a relationship.”

“There’s no point in lying, if you’re worried about being professional, since we don’t have a no-dating policy to abide by, unlike some talents out there,” Silver countered. That was NOT the issue though, unbeknownst to the man.

“I would NOT lie about this to you, and even more so to Sir Malleus and Sir Lilia!” he insisted. “We’re currently dating!”

“I’m sorry?” 

“Dating. No label yet. Like courting. There is a difference!” He said it like it was incredibly obvious, even though he had not realized there was a difference between going on dates and being in an official relationship before you had told him about it.

“Ah, well… As long as you’re happy.” Sebek wasn’t sure if Silver actually understood correctly, but he nodded his head anyway.

“Exactly. I feel happy, so you don’t have to pry.”

That was what Sebek told him, but, if he’s being honest… He really does want to confess soon. It’s why after a moment of silence, he caves—

“BUT… You know, if you have any advice, I would listen attentively. Even if it’s subpar. Your previous advice regarding the gifts were decent, so I would not be against hearing what you would have to say.”

Actually the advice was more than decent, considering it somehow led him to being one step closer to being with you romantically, which was more than he ever could have hoped. However, he did not want to give Silver the satisfaction and credit, so he would not say as much.

“You could have just said thank you…” Silver deadpanned, shaking his head.

Sebek should have realized that the perfect place, the perfect time, would be that which was both special and familiar to the both of you.

He’s reading through a small binder of papers his boss had given him. He’s red-faced, slightly frustrated, but extremely focused at each and every word and line and note written in the margins, eyes intense like the words were his prey, his meal, like consuming the words would mean he would embody them.

You clearly notice how his attention’s been completely captured by the papers in his hand considering you call him out for it. You never used to ask considering he sometimes held confidential documents, things even he can’t tell you, but you can’t seem to hold your curiosity this time around.

“My boss gave me his scripts,” he replied, “to clarify, he selected a few scenes from some of the movies and dramas he’s acted in.”

“You don’t seem as excited as I thought you would be.”

“It’s not that I’m not grateful!!! Being able to have papers from the original copy is wonderful! I’m sure these count as prized possessions!” he exclaimed.

“But?”

But the reason his boss gave them to him was embarrassing! His employer is terribly generous and kind, as expected, and maybe a little later he’ll be elated about being gifted them, but the fact that Malleus gave them to him so he could get an idea of how to confess to you simply made him want to shrivel up and wither.

A part of him didn’t want to explain it to you at all, perhaps think up some excuse on the spot, but he knew that honesty was important in all relationships, so he shouldn’t hide it from you. 

There’s also the fact that he’s not the best liar, but that’s entirely irrelevant.

“I told you that I wanted to wait for the perfect time to confess, so I would have the right words to explain my feelings for you this time around… But I’ve been having difficulty formulating the perfect order of words, order of sentences.” Sebek was bashful at the admission. Even though he knew it not to be true, he sometimes felt that you were better at conveying your feelings for him than he for you. He felt repressed by comparison, even though he did his best to showcase his affections whatever way he could.

In him was the desperate need to not just make you feel how you made him feel, but to make sure you understood just how you have charmed him; that, at times, his heart was more yours than his.

“With that, Sir Malleus, or perhaps Silver or Sir Lilia—who’s to say who made the suggestion—gave me a few scenes to read so I could be inspired to finally confess my feelings to you.”

“Oh!” you looked somewhat pleased by his response, Sebek thought with relief. At least you’re not upset that, after all this time, he’s still having trouble to the point that he’s trying his luck with external sources. “Well, do you think it’s effective?”

“I can’t say for sure,” he replied, “the lines are well written themselves! It’s just… Imagining myself saying them feels off, to say the least.”

“Well, you don’t have to restrict yourself to imagining,” you told him, “you can actually say them out loud.”

“In front of you?!” He would have done a spit take had he been drinking a beverage, which would have humiliated him and ruined his chances of ever confessing to you, he dramatized in his head. 

“It won’t count as your confession. Just think of it like a read through! Hasn’t Malleus ever made you do that while practicing his lines?”

“He has… So I suppose I do have some experience in this matter, even if it’s nothing professional,” he nodded to himself, arriving at a decision. “Yes. Alright. Well, have at this—I come here with no expectations, only to profess, now that I am at liberty to do so, that my heart is and always will be…yours…”

“Well, the line itself was rather captivating, and I liked the way you said it, although…” you stifled a laugh, “You looked so serious reading the script that I can hardly call it heartfelt.”

“That line wasn’t in the book the movie was an adaptation of,” he pointed out, a factoid he just happened to know. “I was just reminded of it while reading the script… I wonder if the line is too direct? What about… Anyone who has seen your smile has known perfection. You instill grace in every common thing and divinity in every careless gesture.”

“Very poetic,” you nodded, then joked, “if you ever consider switching careers, I’ll be your most toxic and supportive fan. I’ll go carry around your polaroid by daylight, then fight your antis by midnight.”

“How silly,” he shook his head, pretending he wasn’t a little flattered, even if it was a mere joke. “You already have a polaroid at the back of your phone case, remember?”

“Correction! Of us, not of you! Which, putting it that way, might be even better!” you laughed, “Though no point of using that against me when you have your copy tucked nicely in your wallet.”

“I’ve been meaning to take it out.”

“Sebek, you decorated it. With stickers your parents gave you when you had your last check up.”

“I TOLD them I was too old for stickers, but they insisted on giving me a sheet anyway!” he said, a well-prepared excuse in case you asked, “It would have gone to waste!”

“Of course,” you chuckled, “remind me to ask for a sticker sheet the next time I go to the dentist. Maybe I’ll even go out of my way to go to your parents’ clinic so we could match.”

“You’re ridiculous,” and terribly, terribly sweet and lovely, but ridiculous nonetheless.

“You love me anyway!”

“I’m not sure why I do.”

“Just like that!” Sebek doesn’t get what you’re on about, and he doesn’t for a while, even as you’re grinning at him, cheerful, beautiful. Honestly, he wishes he knew so he could do or say it again. 

“Just like what?”

“Sebek, you just told me you loved me.”

He froze.

“Had I?” he asked, voice a little shaky. Had he truly? If that was really the case, what an uneventful confession! How regretful and simple and incredibly plain, and–

“I’m not sure if you’ve ever considered this, but I don’t really need anything grand or incredibly put together.”

You take the papers from his hands, gently putting them to the side so his hands could hold yours instead. Sebek adjusts his grip; holds them more delicately—just tight enough a grip to feel that it’s truly you he’s holding, but loose enough to keep you comfortable. Your hands are precious; as is all of you. Not a prized possession for you cannot be possessed, but something to be treasured regardless.

“I feel that you deserve it, though,” he argues, a little forlorn, “I would speak my thoughts if I could. My mouth does not have the eloquence my brain has, I think.”

“You can try regardless,” you say, “it’s something I love about you. That in spite of failure, you will try and try.”

You, endeared to him beyond the limit he thought possible, had little trouble in convincing him. How could he, eager to impress you and eager to prove himself to you, refuse such a request? How could he when you tell him there is something about him you love, to state that there is love in your heart for him? How could he not attempt to say the same?

If it is for you, then he will swallow down his pride and try.

“In the past, I had wondered if the feelings I felt for you were that of romance or if I had been influenced by the opinions of others, if I even understood what romance was. Everybody knows that not all movies and books are true to life, and I was afraid I had misconstrued my feelings of friendship—for friends, to me, were few and far between—with attraction, if attraction was misconstrued with love. 

“But it had dawned on me, what I had felt for you, that night you had first kissed me.” He peels his eyes away from your own momentarily, pained an action as it is, glancing at the entrance. “The first night, I excused my constant thinking about it, about you, to the new feeling I had never experienced before. The second night, I was still thinking of you, and I excused it as simply wanting to sort out my thoughts as to what that action meant for you, all your intents and purposes.”

“And now?” His eyes returned to you, idly watching your lips move as you spoke. “What realization had you come to?”

“Even now, after several phases of the moon have come to pass, I still think of you—night and day, morning and evening. Nothing has left, for the only change would be the growth of my feelings.”

There is nobody else in the café, and yet he drops his voice to a whisper, as though not even the air would be allowed to hear what was meant for you and you alone. 

“I am sure more than ever, for how long I have tried to dispute or explain away my feelings, the tests I have done to make sure I could only be genuine with you… Tried and tested, tried and true, my heart and my soul is truly yours.”

“Sebek…”

You pull your hands away. The loss is mourned.

He thinks you’re saying something. He thinks and not knows because his ears stop working, just for a moment; among the vessels of his senses, only his eyes remain attuned, fixated on the way you stood from your seat, ridding yourself of the distance the coffee table forced between the two of you. It is only when you press your forehead against his that he feels everything again.

“Have I conveyed it to you?” he breathes out, pleading, “Do you understand me?”

“You never should have doubted yourself. I understand you perfectly,” you reply, smiling softly. “So let me make myself understood by you, too.”

end notes | masterlist of all my works | other sebek fics -> (the stories told, the charm you hold) -> (capture my heart, my voice into art) -> (stick to the script)

[ 1 ] Title comes from the phrases "tried and tested" and "tried and true", which I just combined with the sign off "yours truly".

[ 2 ] The AU idea came to me when I saw people make fancams of the bodyguards and back-up dancers of idols. It was kinda cute. I think they really deserve a lot of appreciation. Then the idea grew from there!

[ 3 ] For everyone’s ages, I sort of imagined Sebek and Silver to be in their 20s, basically typical post-college age. Malleus I’m not sure, let’s say 30s, and Lilia will be ??? (no one knows his age he has hid the documents). Basically they’re all working adults.

[ 4 ] Malum in se: wrong or evil in itself; sinful and wrong by nature (as opposed to malum prohibitum, which means something is wrong due to law dictating it).

[ 5 ] The first quote Sebek says is ripped from the Sense and Sensibility adaptation. Spoilers! Many think that the famous confession line, “I come here with no expectations, only to profess, now that I am at liberty to do so, that my heart is and always will be...yours," is also in Jane Austen's book, but it's actually just in the movie! I actually like the adaptation and the line, by the way! Just a fun fact!

[ 6 ] The second quote is altered to be gender neutral. It's from Edmond Rostand's Cyrano de Bergerac. The original is, "Anyone who has seen her smile has known perfection. She instills grace in every common thing and divinity in every careless gesture.'

[ 7 ] Fun fact! Malleus purposefully chose scenes from book adaptations since he knows Sebek is a reader, so he would appreciate it more.

[ 8 ] I actually had a lot of ideas for this fic and universe in general that I just can't fit in so maybe I'll revisit it some other time with one of the other Diasomnia boys.

last edited: 19/03/2023, for misspellings, changing cafe -> café

[ellethespaceunicorn]

Helllooooo!!! I hope you're having a good day!! 💕💜✨

Can I submit a prompt where Lloyd calls in his normally mousey assistant on one of her off days and is blown back by her casual attire? Maybe she's on her way out of hang with the girls and she's got her hottie/freekum dress/attire on.

Bonus if she is as completely I bothered as she normally is and even teases him a bit for his audacity 😈😈

I appreciate you're brain and the time you spend sharing it with us!! ☺️💕💜

Hi nonny!! So sorry this took so long, but here it is! And just as a warning, this one is a doozy and I will not be earning bonus points based on your ask.

Is getting negative points a thing?? (Because this thing went off the rails...)

Title: Power Play: After Hours

Rating: Explicit, 18+, Minors - DNI

Pairing: Lloyd Hansen x Assistant!Black!Reader

Word Count: 3.1K

Summary: What happens when Lloyd sees you, his assistant, in something other than what you usually wear? Well, you should be worried about what he does when he sees you.

Warnings: horrible boss Lloyd, pet name (Mouse), power imbalance, multiple threats of violence, non-con, forced oral sex (f receiving), slight dacryphilia, forced hand job (m receiving), dub-con p-in-v intercourse, vaginal creampie, forced oral sex (m receiving), oral creampie, dead dove: do not eat

A/N: I apologize to nonny who asked for something (I think) completely different. Unbeta’d, we die like people who tried their best.

Dividers by: @saradika

Support/Reblog banner by me

Cover Art by me

My Masterlist

You’re at home getting ready to go out with the girls. It has been ages since you had a free night to let your hair down. But tonight was the night. 

You made sure to ditch the wool sweaters, drab colors, and sensible shoes that you usually wear to work. Instead, you opt for a form-fitting pinstripe dress that ends just above your knee. Large hoop earrings push through your hair and demand attention. Your feet are covered in strappy heels that are cuter than they are comfortable.

But beauty is pain, no?

Just as you are exiting your apartment and entering your car, your phone buzzes. You pull your phone from your purse and growl at the text message from your boss.

Your boss, your reason for migraine medication, the bane of your existence. Lloyd Hansen. Getting an internship with Hansen Government Service was supposed to be a summer gig to help you pay for odds and ends during your last year at college. But no, you had to go ahead and impress the CEO with your problem-solving and the way you covered your former boss’ ass one too many times. 

And now here you are, the personal assistant to this deplorable caricature of a human being. Amazing vision and dental benefits aside, you were the glorified babysitter to a sociopath with an inferiority complex. But you keep your mouth shut and your head down because you know where your bread is buttered.

The text from Lloyd is still sitting in your inbox unread one minute later when your phone starts to ring. You were hoping he would think you were asleep or something, but you remember Lloyd doesn’t observe normal business hours. And he doesn’t give a shit if you have a day off either.

“Yes, Sir,” you answer with Lloyd’s preferred moniker.

“Why didn’t you answer my text?” he asks, his annoyed tone unmistakable.

“I apologize for not being available to you, Sir. What can I help you with?” you acknowledge, wanting him to get to his point of bothering you.

“Hmmm. I’m gonna ignore you being rudely polite. For now. Need you to get my dry cleaning, Mouse,” he advises, using that nickname that boils your blood.

“Sir. It’s almost 9 p.m. Are the dry cleaners still open?” you wonder aloud.

“I called them, and they agreed to re-open so that I could get my shirts. Wasn’t that nice of them? You don’t wanna keep that sweet old lady waiting this late at night, do you?” he persuades, a sinister chuckle sending a chill down your spine.

“I will pick up your shirts for you, Sir,” you question.

“Had to pull a late night at the office, but I’m leaving now. Meet me at my place, Mouse,” he replies.

“Yes, Sir,” you say, holding back the urge to scream in his ear and ending the call. 

By being at the office, he is within walking distance of the shop where his clothing is being held. 

Deep breaths. Don’t let him take your joy.

You pass your office building and veer into the small shopping center. Stepping into the shop, you realize you don’t have a ticket, but you also know that the place is staying open for only one reason.

“You here to pick up Hansen?” The old woman behind the counter smiles at you and you nod stepping over to her, “Very particular, that one. Don’t let him work you too hard, honey.” 

“Oh, thank you,” you greet, smiling when she handed over the hangers of shirts covered in plastic material, “May I just apologize for him keeping you open past your hours?”

Before you can apologize, the sweet woman comes around the counter and pats your hand.

“How long are you going to apologize for him? Just go home, honey. And good luck with that one,” she reasons, and she scoots you out of the store before you can tell her that you’re only his assistant, not his long-suffering wife.

You give up trying to explain yourself and turn around to get back in your car. With the shirts hung in the back seat, you speed until you get to Lloyd’s gated community. Pushing in the code to the outer gate, you squirm in your seat as the gate slowly opens.

Driving through streets with pretentious names, you end up at the cul-de-sac where his McMansion sits center-stage among the other Stepford homes. You park next to his vehicle in the spacious driveway, a BMW M8 Competition Convertible in Alpine White. Not a scratch on her sparkling surface.

You stuff down the urge to put a scratch on his car because he will notice it. He notices everything. And with the level of neat freak that he is, he probably would notice a single fingerprint on the car’s hood.

Walking up to the door, you see the Ring camera and press the doorbell. The porch light comes on and the door opens to reveal your boss talking on the phone with one earbud in his ear. He pauses and looks you up and down before letting you walk in around him.

“I’m gonna have to go, something just came up,” he purrs, adjusting himself in the two seconds you were looking away from him. He pulls out his earbud, ending the call and turning his attention to you, “Mouse, glad you could make it, but you didn’t have to dress up for me.”

“I didn’t. Here are your shirts. Can I help you with anything else, Sir?” you explain, holding his dry cleaning out so he can take them. 

Once he reaches out, he bypasses the shirts, grabbing your wrist and pulling you to him. “Maybe there is one thing you can do for me, Mouse. It is quite a big job though,” he dares, ghosting his thumb over your pulse point.

“Hmmm. Sir, I didn’t come all this way to do whatever it is you think you’re doing,” you warn, putting your hand on his chest to push him away as you feel his increased heart rate. 

His eyes are dark, with barely any blue left in the iris. You can almost feel how hungry he is for you.

“Well, I was gonna say I wouldn’t mind a blowjob from those perfect glossy lips. But I think I wanna hear your mouth moan for me while I eat that pretty pussy instead,” he admits, taking the shirts out of your hand before hoisting you over his shoulder.

“Sir! No! Put me down, you fucking psycho. What are you doing?” you demand, pounding your hands on his back and landing a harsh blow directly to his ass.

“Fuck, Mouse! Hands to yourself, or I won’t keep my hands to myself, ok?” he cautions, surprising you with a hard slap to your ass, “And you got that wrong anyway, I’m technically a sociopath, not a psychopath.”

You’re in a state of stunned silence as he walks up the grand staircase in the room and brings you into a bedroom down the hall. You don’t have time to wonder what all of the other rooms are used for as you are dumped on his bed. The silk sheets underneath you are comfortable, but they seem creepy once you think about being thrown down on top of them. Before you can scramble off of the bed, Lloyd grabs you by the hips and traps you under his weight. 

“Mouse, mouse, mouse. Why don’t you ever dress like this for me?” he breathes, his clothed erection nestled against your hip, “You wearing this for some asshole? Should call him up and tell him I got to you first.”

“Sir, please. I was just going to hang out with my girls. I promise I won’t say anything about this if you just let me go,” you whimper, your hands going to his chest again trying to push him away.

He grabs your wrists and pins them to the bed. His nose takes in your RiRi perfume as it glides along your neck. Kicking your legs open, he nestles himself in between so he can rock his hips into you. Feeling his hardening dick against your panties as your dress rides up, he groans as he feels the heat coming off of you.

“Kinda funny you want me to let you go. But I bet if I dipped a finger into that cute snatch I know you have, I would find a little honey pot full of delicious sweetness waiting for me. Shall I test that out?” he counters. Holding both wrists in one giant hand as he trails a hand down your body until it disappears between you.

You feel his bruising fingers pushing your panties out of the way to find his prize. His touch turns almost delicate as the tips of his fingers find your wet pussy; your body’s betrayal is evident in the puddle forming on your netherlips. The look in his eyes when he finds what he’s looking for is bordering on sheer joy.

“There it is, Mouse. Just like I knew it would be,” he beams, pulling two fingers coated in your essence to his mouth and sucking them clean, “Fuck. I knew it would be delicious. You’re gonna sit on my face and give me all your sweet cream.”

He rolls your body over so that you are straddling him. You debate trying to scramble off of him, but he pinches your thigh and brings you back to the task at hand. You crawl up his body and hover over his face until he locks his arms around your thighs and pulls you down over his eager mouth.

Looking down at him, he looks serene with his eyes closed as he goes to work on your sensitive folds. For a while, you feel nothing when he licks up your slit. Circling your nub with his tongue, he moans when your clit twitches. When kitten licks against your clit turn to sucking it into his mouth, you can’t restrain the urge to grab a handful of his hair.

If he wants to hear you moan pretty for him, he’s gonna need to do better than this. You grind your pussy into his tongue and sigh when he sticks his tongue directly into your hole. Fucking into you with his tongue is the straw that breaks the camel’s back.

You tighten your fingers in his auburn hair, unable to hold back your orgasm for much longer. Visions of all the times he looked at you like you were a piece of meat flash before your eyes. The way all of his other assistants quit the job after short stints. And you just about gift-wrapped yourself for him tonight.

You should have never answered the phone. But it’s kind of hard to think about that now with the way your resolve is slowly slipping away. You feel the metaphorical rubber band being stretched to within an inch of its life. Until pop!

The wave of your climax washes over you like a warm blanket. Your keening whine is music to Lloyd’s ears as he holds you tighter when you try and extricate yourself from his grasp. He laps up everything you have to give him and makes obscene sucking and licking noises. Once he lets up on your pussy, he lets your weak body roll to the side on its own. You don’t notice you are crying until he licks away one tear.

He looks down at you as he wipes his mustache clean of your juices. “Every part of you tastes amazing, Mouse. Even your tears. Fuck, that’s so hot I got you crying for me,” he hums, wiping away your tears with a thumb as he lays next to your limp body.

You’re quiet as you lay in your boss’ bed, him having just defiled your body with his tongue. Not knowing what to think, your brain just replays everything trying to find where you went so wrong. Because not only was that an Earth-shattering orgasm but it was given to you by your boss. That kind of thing is frowned upon in most companies. But Lloyd is the CEO, are the rules different? You don’t have the time to keep thinking when Lloyd chimes in.

“Now, Mouse, I’m sure your brain is going a mile a minute. But let me make one thing clear: I am going to need you to come into work dressed just like this from now on. You wear something tight, something that shows off this body, something that I can pull up or down and fuck you in while we’re in the office,” he chuckles as you look over to him with tears in your eyes at your new fate, “We’ll put that into your contract. What do you think? From Personal Assistant to Fuck Toy. That’s a step up, huh?”

You say nothing, content to shed tears and wish that the Earth would open up and swallow you.

“Don’t be so gloomy. At least you got to come, unlike some of us. You can help me with that, can’t you Mouse?” he pleads, as if he didn’t just change your job title to fit your new duties. He unzips his pants, pulling out his thick length and reaching for your hand to wrap around it, “I won’t need much help. I could’ve blown in my pants like a fucking teenager when you came in my mouth.”

You wish his mouth would just fucking stop. You don’t need the commentary. You unenthusiastically jerk him off until he spills rope after rope of jizz painting your hand and his pants. At least he was right, he didn’t need much help. 

“Good fucking job, Mouse,” he gushes, throwing an arm over his brow as he catches his breath, “Can’t wait to take that cunt for a test drive but I can wait until my balls are not so fucking empty. Go clean yourself up in the bathroom.”

You rise and walk into the attached bathroom all without a single thought in your head. You use the toilet, wash your hands, and splash water on your face. You avoid the mirror like the plague.

Coming back to the bedroom, you are greeted by Lloyd lying on his side and crooking a finger at you. You swallow your spit and take a deep breath, moving to join him on the bed. 

Once there, you let him manhandle you in every position he wants. You close your eyes, wishing you were somewhere else. Until he has you on your back. He makes you stare into his eyes as he fucks you like the little puppet you are. When he takes you over the edge again, he doesn’t stop his onslaught until you beg him to stop.

But begging only drives him to go harder. Flesh slapping against flesh painfully until he pushes himself deep within you and stills. Every twitch and spurt felt inside of you like a slap to the face. You’re not on birth control and you fear asking if he is snipped but he speaks up before you can ask.

“I pay you enough to afford the morning-after pill, right?” he asks, his dick softening and sliding out of you.

Fucking asshole. The thought of murder crosses your mind more than once, but you know people might come looking for him. And the thought of having to trade in your freedom for a life behind bars makes you rethink killing this nutcase.

So, instead, you just say, “Yes, Sir.”

“Right. Good. Alright, well it’s not too late for you to go out with your friends. Don’t stay out too late, you have work in the morning. Bright and early, Mouse. I expect you to be there tomorrow,” he remarks, acting like he didn’t just use your body for his sick pleasure, “That means you’re good to go home now, Mouse. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

He gets off you, climbing off the bed and adjusting himself, pulling you up and escorting you to the front door. He all but pushes you out of the door into the night, as if you were trash. When you get back inside your car, your phone has tons of messages from your friends wondering where you are.

You send a mass text that you weren’t feeling well, and you needed rest. It wasn’t entirely untrue anyway. You make it back home, shedding your clothes as you walk to your bedroom. You pull back the covers and wrap yourself in warmth, willing the events of the night to just go away. But they don’t go away.

The next morning, you shower and dress like Lloyd wants. The looks of your coworkers cause heat to rise to your face. You don’t usually get this type of attention. Or any attention when you think about it. 

When you get to Lloyd’s office, he is sitting behind his desk on a call, and he waves you over. You walk around his desk and see his pants are already unbuttoned and his half-chub is sticking out. You spare yourself the embarrassment of being asked and go right to work on him with your hands. Unsurprised when he puts a hand on the back of your head, you just lower yourself and take him in your mouth.

Little does he know; your head game is strong. And within about three minutes, you have him spasming down your throat. His softening cock is sensitive as you tease him by swirling your tongue around the head. He ends his phone call and holds your face in his hands.

“What’s my soul taste like, Mouse? I’m sure you sucked it right out,” he praises, his dazed eyes focusing on you while he catches his breath.

“If you had a soul, I’m sure it would taste as bitter as your cum,” you snap, uncaring of whether or not he was offended.

“Good point. Watch that pretty mouth, though. My precious feelings might get hurt. And then you might get hurt. So, play nice, Mouse,” he cautions, lightly clapping his hand against your cheek, just hard enough to jerk you out of misbehaving.

“Yes, Sir,” you sass, putting on a fake smile and Lloyd rolls his eyes, shooing you away.

You can do what he says, doesn’t mean you have to make it easy for him in the slightest. And isn’t that the best way to get back at him? Give him everything he wants but with no enthusiasm. Of course, you know this little plan of yours won’t last long. But when you’re faced with a demon like Lloyd Hansen, you’ll take any little victory you can. As few and far between as they may be.

A/N: This got way out of hand. I don’t know what happened. Um, I’m not sorry though. Because I love this and if it ends up being just for me, then so be it.

**Tag List**

@peyton-warren @cakesandtom @brattymum96 @ambinxe @avengersfan25 @kebabgirl67 @thabiddie23 @sweetandgentlecreature @foxyjwls007 @art2emily @titty-teetee @princessaxoxo @motivation-idontknowher @buckysteveloki-me @magnificentsaladllama @gyusbrownie @milknhonies @sultry-rachael @itsthestutterforme

Let me know if you wanna be added (or removed) 😁

[eywathemother]

Fish Lips Chapter 9

Ship: Aonung x Kiri's twin sister!Reader

Warnings: Language, bullying, gore, fighting, talk of war, injury and blood, slow burn, enemies to lovers (not really a warning just some people don't like that trope), death of (a) character(s), not proofread, mentions of reader being depressed

Words: 1,901 (kinda short sorry)

Keys: (y/n) = your name,,(y/i/n) = your Ikran's name,, Neural Queue= the braid extension of a Navi's nervous system that allows them to link up to animals and Eywa,, (y/n/n) = your nickname),, Bold is English,, Italic is sign language,,Bold italics is when you're communicating with Kiri,,

Chapters; Introduction || Part 1 || Part 2 || Part 3 || Part 4 || Part 5 || Part 6 || Part 7 || Part 8 || Part 9 || Part 10 ||

My taglist is wack ass hell so I won't be doing taglist requests anymore. It takes me about half an hour to update the taglist as well, so it's more time consuming then I originally thought.

Spoilers for Avatar: The Way of Water A whole ass lot.

Special dt: @k1rislov3r

This is mainly a filler chapter so apologies if it's a bit dry, I'm trying to go into as much detail with the reader and her life so that the plot makes more sense. Also, I FINALLY CAUGHT UP TO MY CLASSES SO I CAN FOLLOW MY POSTING SCHEDULE, YAYYYY!!!! Thank you guys for your patience, I really appreciate it.

I did delete the original chapter for this so the sneak peek I posted was for the old chapter, this is the final cut for the chapter so it's completely different than what I posted. The reason why It took so long for me to post today was because I was editing mama Neytiri *smirking intensely*. Also, my brain is still fried, and I start more classes tomorrow so....I'm crying internally.

You hadn't gone to sleep until an hour before sunrise, so you were exhausted to say the least. Jake was okay with you sleeping in some more for rest, but Neytiri countered, you needed to do your chores and you had said the night before you would watch Tuk. Kiri was going to assist Ronal and Neytiri in Tsahik-training and the brothers were joining a hunt with Aonung and Rotxo earlier in the morning.

Neytiri was upset with your reckless decision to stay up so late but she had promised Kiri would be done by lunch so you could take a nap. You had been struggling with nightmares, you had no idea what they meant, and you refused to talk about them. Even Kiri was clueless to your nightmares.

Kiri didn't think you'd hide anything from her, as you both promised to always share everything, and it was very difficult to hide anything from each other. You held your end of the promise... somewhat, you didn't want to worry her or anyone, so you hid it.

You couldn't even turn to Eywa for help, as you couldn't even properly connect to the tree. Mo'at thought it was a sign from Eywa for some greater purpose for you in life, but Norm thought it was something to do with the malfunctioning of your Neural Queue. He explained that the Avatar's body is not as fully functioning as a Na'vi body at times, and you could've unluckily gotten some sort of mutant gene from the human DNA that didn't allow your Neural Queue to work the same as others. It was odd though, you had no issue connecting to animals, just connecting to any trees related to Eywa.

You had tried before, the farthest you had gotten to connecting to Eywa was a white room of sorts. Nothing but you, the brightness of the white around you, and the echos of your voice begging for someone to respond.

That was the day the nightmares had begun, depicting war and violence, filling you with nothing but anger and hatred towards the sky people. On occasions even towards Jake, who you had lashed out at saying to him he was nothing but ' a disgusting alien bringing violence and war wherever he went.' Of course, you apologized and got heavily grounded afterwards, but Neytiri was beginning to worry that the lack of connection you had with Eywa was starting to affect you.

You tried not to let it affect you too much, you tried not to stress over things way beyond your control.

As of now you had your head rested in your hands, sitting crisscross with your elbow resting on your knee. Tuk was playing in the water, looking at surrounding coral and observing the fish.

You tail wagged a bit, moving lazily over the rock you were sitting on. You hear footsteps next to you, several people calling out your name.

" (y/n)!!" Lo'ak was the first to make his way to you, Tuk turning to him with." Hi Lo'ak!" She smiled before a yellow-ish green fish caught her attention; she immediately went back to observing the waters.

" Where's Neteyam?" You asked, your ears perked up at his presence, watching as he plopped himself next to you. He pointed towards the beach." He, Rotxo, and Aonung were right behind me, I don't know where they went though. Don't really care either." He shrugged, placing his feet in the water.

"Oh." You yawned, you were trying your best to stay awake but you knew you'd pass out soon." Hey, do you mind watching Tuk for a little bit?" You asked Lo'ak and he gave you a side eye. He wasn't happy about it but he knew something was bothering you and keeping you up so of course he wasn't going to be apathic towards you and keep you from sleep.

" Yeah sure, be here before dinner though. Mom will be upset if you're not back by then." You nodded and stood up, stretching your body from being in the same position for almost half an hour.

Normally your napping routine included flying (y/i/n) to a random and secluded area and napping together until it was time to head back. That or you let her fly freely through the air as you napped on her back.

This time you wanted to be alone, you currently didn't want to be around anyone or anything. You just wanted to lie down someplace and just sleep. Hopefully dreamless.

You made your way into the woods, not bothering to really watch where you're going, just trying to stay on your feet. You wanted to lay yourself on the ground floor of Pandora and just listen to the heartbeat that echoed from within the empty-feeling heart of Eywa. Your true mother, you may not be able to connect to her with your braid, but you didn't need to.

You could hear her silent comforting words within the wind, whispering in your ear words of encouragement that had never left your parents lips. Your feet carried you across the Earthy flooring of the walkway towards the denser part of the forest. The mother trees, the children, all of their silent voices being carried by the cool breeze.

The sound of the ocean's waves hitting the beach slowly vanished as your ears focused on listening to the birds and rustling of the trees. The longer you listened the more you tried to think of it as the Jungle's trees rustling or the animals singing.

You missed your home, and you will miss it as long as you remained on this planet. You were slowly falling into a depression, missing your home, your people... your family. It wasn't the type of sadness to make you cry, but the sadness that put a hole in your chest and made you feel empty. The Jungle was a part of you, and you missed it terribly.

You laid down on a patch of grass, running your hand over the blades of grass. Feeling the edges of the plant tickle your palm and the tips of your fingers. A comforting warmth drifted over you, the wind dying down as you closed your eyes and listened to the breath of the planet. You slowly began to drift, finally being able to rest.

Red. Orange. Yellow. Fire.

Surrounding you, ingulfing you but it didn't burn. It was like the rage of the flames understood you and you understood it. War almost feeling natural and like your second nature. You felt nothing as you cut through the humans like their life meant nothing to you.

It didn't, you could care less about these murderous and destructive aliens from afar. You wanted them dead, you wanted all of them to disappear. You weren't just angry, or rageful, you were vengeful. You were going to give them what they had given you, you were going to make them feel how you felt as you watched your friends and loved ones die for a fight that would never have happened if it weren't for them.

If it weren't for Jake Sully, HE started this, HE is the reason you are all on the run. Why didn't he just kill them all, why did he let them go back home in one piece. You would've shredded them until they weren't even recognizable, showed them to Eywa, your beloved mother that you would protect her at all costs.

These weren't your thoughts; you would never think this way of your father. What was this dream, who was this unrecognizable being?

You jolted awake, beads of sweat running down your face and tears sprung to your eyes. You hated these feelings, they were so foreign like they weren't even yours, but in a way comforting. You wanted to deny them but, on some level, you knew that you agreed with them.

You stood up and headed your way to a small stream nearby. You splashed water onto your face, wiping the tears from your eyes and staring at your reflection in the water.

You stood up, looking around realizing how late it was. It was way past Eclipse. You ran hand through your hair and drew a breath preparing to be grounded again. This was what? Your third or fourth time breaking a rule or causing trouble. Honestly you didn't care, at this point it'll happen at least every week.

You heard footsteps approaching you and you spun around on your feet in alert. Aonung appeared, he blinked a bit in surprise and then grinned." You have some awesome hearing, I thought I was being sneaky."

You rolled your eyes." You stomp, there's no way you could survive in the woods with those." You pointed at his feet, and he grumbled under his breath." My feet are not that big." He protested, placing a hand on his hip, his ears back in annoyance.

A small silence broke out, and you tried your best to keep your normal aggravating smirk placed on your lips. Aonung could see past it though, he paid enough attention to tell that you were not doing so well. He didn't watch you or anything, he was just very aware and constantly read people. Maybe at times he would watch you with someone and pick up on your mannerisms more than he would with anyone else, but so what you were his friend.

Well...friends a stretch still.

" What's wrong?" He asked, he might not be the best at comforting, but he was willing to try. You brushed him off." Your presence always seems to dampen my mood, have you not noticed?" You teased but he didn't return your teasing.

" I'm serious, whatever's bothering you, you can tell me." Aonung placed himself in front of you and placed a kind hand on your shoulder. Your shoulders tensed and your jaw tightened, the smirk falling off your face for a split second.

" Now what's got you all tinder hearted your big teddy bear!" You pinched the side of his ribs lightly and he instinctively pulled away." What? What is a t-eddy barer??" You slapped a hand over your mouth giggling at his terrible English." Did you just insult me? It is one of those human insults, isn't it?"

Your worries and bad dreams disappeared instantly, Aonung unintentionally brightened your day-or rather night. Speaking of night, you needed to hurry and get back to your families Marui. You looked towards the path that led you back to the beach.

" Don't worry, it's not as late as it seems, just after dinner. Lo'ak and I covered for you so you're fine." He gave you his charming smile, the calmest you've ever seen him be. You grinned, wrapping an arm around his shoulders and dragging him closer to you." You know...I kinda like you a bit now."

" Just a bit?" He teased and he placed a hand on your other shoulder. You put your other hand up and put your pointer finger and thumb almost touching." Just a smidge."

" So does that mean I've finally won you over?" He asked, his tone was light and teasing but he was asking an actual question he's been dying to bring up." Won me over? Hell no!" You shook your head." I'm not gonna be friends with you that easily, you have to do something biiiig." You exaggerated and he rolled his eyes, he should've known he wasn't going to get a real answer out of you.

────────────────────────────────────────────

Taglist; @akinatrix , @willowbrookesblog , @lovesickbtch , @ao-sleepy , @elli-aesthetics , @ducks118 , @aeclark04 , @audigay ,@lola-bunn1 , @curlszx88 , @kidwithaheavystick , @weridpersonhelp , @yeosxxx , @tsamiaxoo , @shartnart1 , @tsukette , @daphne000 , @amarillyssnowdrop , @neteyamsmate4life , @stitch-lele , @purplefsh , @dumb-fawkin-bitch , @goodiesinthecloset21 , @theghostofshadows , @aonungs-tsahik , @simpliheavenli , @bob-the-ikran , @littleshybunbun , @werelosingdaylight , @ijwsbdinp , @xoxovienna , @findingourtreasure , @yogirlfriend , @pussymode , @wilmalovegood , @valentineheartzz , @lovekeeho , @isnt-itstrange , @ifevilwhyhot , @dngnmtr-blog , @yuzxi18 , @cupidddd-d , @emilia-the-artist , @essiemolololol , @aisselasstuff , @kitkat1690 , @howlerwolfmax , @bottleofsoju , @galaxyfruits , @sunwayx , @hana-1235 , @mad-simp420 , @jakesullys-bitch , @rinizitos , @zilena9 , @sakurayuki8655-blog , @artistodilflord , @fucksnow , @Icrimsons ,

@mad-simp420 , @philiasoul , @heartueheartue , @guska0 , @aisselasstuff , @neteyamsw , @bella82vsps , @lessoswifereallll , @cupidlot , @thornlessrose , @silversnake13 , @caediez , @galaxyfruits , @ohashley101 , @claireionaire , @ghost-lantern , @nijha2tact , @nyotamalfoy , @bajadotcom , @gamorxa , @friendly-reject , @madaramyluv , @shootingstarforever-blog1 , @rratman , @pitypinkabyss , @gayseokjin2 , @av-sos , @elegantkidfansoul , @itsthetiss65 , @mysteriouszer0 , @useryourbut , @inosukehasibara , @luvlykrispy

[mochi-owos]

Meeting genshin men at your local grocery store?!

Childe, Itto, Kaeya, Alhaitham, Ayato x Reader

To be honest, the job itself wasn’t too bad. Pretty normal actually. Aside from the few weirdos that have been walking in lately..

Inspired by @abyssruler’s 7/11 Diaries! (One again written in the depths of night, so I apologize for the errors and tbh it’s kinda bad 😰)

Childe:

You could do this! Self belief! Stay awake! Your shift was almost done, 2am on the clock and two more hours to go. Everything was pretty mundane, occasionally mopping the floor, checking the stock, handling the (basically unused) register— all mundane with the lack of people. But today a real odd ball walked in: ginger hair, roughed clothing, tussled hair, and oh- the massive nose bleed dripping down onto his clothes.

He walks through the store so calmly - it’s almost startlingly - he strolls through the isles putting random items, then walks up to the counter. He grins, "Well hello there, I didn’t know such a pretty thing would be working at a time like this." He says, all while blood is still dripping down his nose.

You blink once, you blink twice, you take the basket and start scanning, "It’s too early in the morning for this.." You mumble, tired eyes fumbling with the unreasonably items. The prices of each individual item would send you into cardiac arrest, but all in all? Fucking nuts. How does he even have money? Have you seen the economics state of the world?

Your words only make him laugh, as you look up at him your gaze fuses on his bloody nose, "You’re bleeding."

"I know." He smiles.

"O," You blink slowly once more. "Want a tissues or something?”

He raises a brow, "Ha! You’re pretty funny, you know! Most workers get scared!" He laughs, watching intently as you pack away his items handing them to him.

You look him in the eyes, "I don’t get paid enough."

From that day since he’d often come to the store chatting with you, all while buying odd products. At this point you were starting to think it’s all to speak with you, I mean— Instant rice and pickles? You raised a brow, almost like a mind reader he spoke,

"My friend dropped his phone in the toilet so we’re doing the rice method, and the pickles is for me, nice snack."

Isn’t the rice method supposed to be bad? “Why don’t you just go to a repair shop?"

"Hes quirky like that."

"Just leave."

At some point you started seeing him outside the shop, he also goes to the same university as you. Which did make sense seeing at though he looked your age, but what surprised you the most is that he’s pretty well know. So now you started to wonder how you hadn’t heard about him. Maybe it’s because you have no friends— that’s a problem. You’ll need some of those.. you guess. Now that you think about it, you never got his name. How odd.

Itto:

It was very much valid for you to assume that the man before you was drunk. He was awfully loud (so much so you could hear him from five blocks down), he talked funny, and so did he act the same.

As you tiredly rub your eyes you to try shake yourself awake, there was still so much time until work was over. And with the shouting going on outside it was actually quite easy, most would be worried of a murder being what’s taking place outside but it was awfully normal for such screams, also the sound of drunk laughter easily disproves the thought of murder. A man -easily 7ft tall, White hair, super buff, his hair oddly whisked - trudges in, panic written all over his face. "WHERE IS YOUR RICE?" He asked anxiously.

"Excuse me?"

"I NEED RICE FOR MY PHONE." He jumped around in place, you point him towards the section and he runs off, few of his friends snicker while some look worried.

You wait around at the counter, it takes him a few minutes to gather what he needs, next time he comeback he has at least four small bags of rice and bandages. As you ring him up you hear the man speak with his friends,

"Do you think it’ll work?" One of his friends ask.

"I think so! I got the premium rice, and I think the bandages will work too!" He smiles.

"For.. your phone?"

"Yeah, why?"

"Nothing.." his friends mumble, stifling a laugh.

You simply shake your head at such idiocy, but then again you can understand, repair shops are unbelievably expensive and half the time it gets even more broken. But your action seems to have caught the man’s attention, gawking he turns to his friends, “THEYRE SO HOT.”

From that day forward he constantly visited the shop, goofing around in the store in attempts to get your number.

"So, you like jazz?" He has this odd smirk on his face, almost as if that was his attempt to finesse you.

"Yes."

"Ah. You were supposed to say no."

"Sorry?"

Soon, Itto (his name, he had written it on a piece of paper and whilst paying for his newest purchase slipped it in) started being able to spot you on campus, following you around like a lost puppy. Perhaps you’ll slip in your number next time you give him change.. perhaps.

Kaeya:

To Kaeya you were hot, really fucking hot. Though you were kinda invisible that added to your charm, that or he just had a thing for total losers, he couldn’t tell. And for the most part you weren’t entire invisible, often seeing your name on the first board after grades come out, or even seeing you enrolled in competitions, or he’d see you studying in the library - looking so adorable- writing away at your notes. He thought you were utterly ethereal, and the need to get to know you was insatiable. His friends quite literally needing to hold him down from running up to you and scaring you away. So come to find out lovely ol’ you works at one of his favourite convince place he already had a plan brewing.

You drearily watch the clock, your body feeling as if it's numb. Your hands lazily drawing circles on the counter, starting to regret the fact you decided to work the graveyard shift. The ringing of the store bell waking you from your hazziness, a man dressed nicely came in: blue hair, blue eyes (odd combo, to be completely honest), dressed in what looked like ballroom clothing, his expression of.. smugness? Unyielding.

As you wait to ring him up you take out your phone and start scrolling through it, but soon you here light steps approaching placing your phone back in your pocket and take the items and start scanning. All as you do so the man watches you intently, and little too much.

”Can I help you with something, Sir?"

He raises a brow, "Sir? You don't think I'm that old, do you?!" He cried.

"No, Sir. I'm required to do this."

"So you think I look nice?"

"Sure."

"Would you go out with me?" Was that really his attempt at rizzing you up?

"Please just take your items and leave, Sir." (I'm saving you the embarrassment -and myjob-)

He couldn't stand it, no, he was determined-- he will rizz you up. You have to give him a chance! And so whenever you had a free moment you would see him walk up to you, it’s not that you minded his unbreaking tenacity, it was quite admirable actually.

"Hey!" He ran up to you, waving his hand. He stops in front of you weaving, "Trying to run away from me?"

"No. I’m hungry."

"Ah! The allow me to do the pleasure and buy you lunch."

"If you have money, sure.”

You were oh so happy, free food truly did taste the best. So while he got to know you you got full - and happy - tummy. Maybe you’ll actually let him take you out.

Al Haitham:

See, typically you were fine with customers, but this time you were utterly enthralled by this.. this asshole with a stick up his ass. You’d love to hop over the counter and give him a wack, but you refrain from doing so— he looked rich, and he was buff, you most definitely could not take him in a fight.

"It’s 14.55."

"I’m aware."

"I am in a rush, please let me pay already."

"Im sorry, Sir. I’m required to ring this all up."

"But I already told you, it’s 14.55." His eyes looked a bit agitated, his arms crossed.

"Sir, I am just doing my job."

"K."

To be honest, you didn’t really know what was coming out of his mouth after that, nor did you care, you simply nod, most of the “conversation” you looked at his.. uh, breast(s) pocket. You’d never see him again, what’s the harm?

You were wrong, so undeniably, unbelievably, wrong. Exactly 5 hours later you’d see him at the gym, staring at you, approaching you- wait, approaching you?? You look around the room, what do you do? How do you seem like you’re busy? Pull out you pho-?!

"Hey."

"Hello..? Do you need something?"

"Do you need help?"

"No."

"I’m helping you anyway."

"O."

And workout buddies you came to be, often meeting him during your workout sessions. You never really needed his help, but with his insistence you agreed. Sometimes even studying together.

"Are you stupid?"

"I think so, I’ve been talking with my doctor lately and-"

"I didn’t mean it literally."

"Ah."

With exams coming up you’ve been seeing each other a lot more, and the study areas have been a lot more.. romantic? Close, cool mood lighting, cold- sometimes even his own house. But then again, maybe it’s just you.

Ayato:

This was absolutely fucking nuts. This guy was decked out— SO BAD. The Ayato Kamisato, one of the richest bachelors was before you, you couldn’t help but be a bad bit taken back. But regardless you tried your best to scan all his odd items.

For a hot bachelor his grocery items were really weird, and so fucking expensive you felt your heart clench.. you’ll need a break after this, maybe even a smoke (you’ve never smoked in your life and if you were to you were pretty sure you’d have an asthma attack).

His gaze wondered you curiously, has you handed him his groceries he smiled, leaving a.. 100$ TIP?? WHAT THE FUCK. WHERE DOES HE GET THIS MONEY? I THOUGHT WE WERE IN A RESCISSION. WHAT. Your eyes were massive, looking back up at him, "Uhm, Sir. I think you misplaced this bill.." as much as you wanted to keep it, you had morals (sadly), holding yourself to high principle.

"Oh, that was no mistake. I appreciate the fact someone like you is working at such an hour. Have a lovely morning." He waved and left.. someone like me? Is that an insult? Does he think I’m poor?

As you pondered what he meant you started seeing him more, and more. Always leaving a massive tip, does god.. love me? Your reactions always brining a smile to his face, and conversations with you always left him with a swelling in his chest, you were awfully funny.

"Here, a tip."

"Am I.. in more debt?" You tilt your head, "Do you want something from me?" Your eyes widen, "Is this perhaps your way of buying me? Is that what rich people do..? That’s what’s I heard.." mumbling the last part you look into the floor, bringing your hand up to fumble with your lip- in deep concentration.

He was so weird, people said he was cool. From what you can tell all he is a weirdo. Who tips this much? Who buys this much weird stuff? Isn’t he rich? Why doesn't he just get someone to get him groceries? Why does he look at you weird? Honestly, if he kept giving you this much money you might as well become his sugar baby (not that you would mind).

[monsterfuker3000]

Training Room

Wrote a little sub!Leon for the people (this is so totally for me. I’ve never written something so self-serving in my life.)

Warnings: sub!virgin!Leon, it’s implied reader has some experience, reader is afab, NSFW, oral (m receiving,) p in v, crying, unprotected sex (*sprays you with a spray bottle,*) RE2 Leon cries after sex and I will not be taking questions or criticisms. Not proofread we die like men, I’m positive there are continuity issues in this but I wrote it with my pussy and not my brain so I apologize. This is for you babes sorry for the wait @jacaerysthinker

Word count is a grand 3,479 I got carried away whoops. I wrote a part 2! It’s called A Lesson in Dining Etiquette

Alright, this isn’t how Leon necessarily imagined this sparring session going, but considering how good it felt to have you grind against him, he certainly wasn’t going to complain.

The two of you had gone to police academy together and had quickly become close friends. By sheer dumb luck, you were both assigned to two newly vacated positions in Raccoon City. What are the odds?

Leon was good at what he did, scary good. You, on the other hand, had some trouble. You excelled in every category but sparring, the one curriculum that had allowed you to pass just by the skin of your teeth. Leon worried for your safety because of this, and you knew you needed practice. That’s what landed you in the practice room late one night after everyone had gone home.

You’d been here for hours already, sweating and losing patience. Leon, on the other hand, had barely broken a sweat, his stupid hair still falling perfectly over his stupid face. You were working on an especially critical move, one that would have you sweeping a suspect’s legs out from under them and wrestling them to the ground on their stomach, allowing you to easily cuff them behind their back. This one was really giving you trouble, and you were growing frustrated that Leon seemed to fight you off as easily as he’d swat away a fly.

Nearly every attempt landed you straight on your ass. Leon was kind enough to help you up, but as your best friend, he couldn’t help himself from laughing.

“Maybe we should take a break, you’re not going to get anywhere when you’re this frustrated,” he mused.

“Not yet, I can do it this time,” you spat. He barked out a short laugh.

“Fine. I’ll give you one more try, and after this we’re breaking for dinner. I’m starving,” he replied with a smile. He was enjoying this too much. You, sweaty and panting, alone with him for hours? He’d been half-hard since the two of you stepped into the practice room and hoped to God you didn’t notice.

You didn’t, thank God, you were too busy cursing his name as you tried like hell to take him down, determined you’d do it this time if it was the last damn thing you did. You nodded. You could do it this time.

You moved into your defensive position and signaled to Leon to begin. He moved to attack, and you ran through the steps just as he’d been showing you for the last few hours. Sidestep, grab his arm, kick the back of his legs. Yes! You did it, you finally got him on the ground. Now, to complete the move you just had to turn and plant a leg on either side of his back so you could place your body weight on him, pinning him.

The first half of the move went off without a hitch, you were certain you had him this time. What you didn’t foresee was Leon rolling onto his back just as you came down on him, landing you square on his crotch. You were ecstatic you’d gotten this far, not paying attention to where you’d actually landed, but Leon was a bit distracted by your position.

“Yes!” You cried out, pumping both fists in the air and bouncing slightly. Leon grunted underneath you, but you were still oblivious. “I got you, I got youuu~” you practically sang as you swayed back and forth, still sitting on him. With this shift, however, you felt Leon’s semi under your ass and your eyes widened. “Oh, oh Lee I’m so sorry, I-“ you began as you tried to stand. His hands flew out to grab at your hips, keeping you there.

“No!” He cried out. “No no no, please,” he panted, his eyes screwed shut. “Please don’t move,” he trailed off, his voice small.

Oh my God.

Leon, your best friend, the man you’ve been pining for for months, was whimpering underneath you. You hadn’t told him the huge, embarrassing crush you have on him of course, how could you? You gave an experimental roll of your hips against his and he cried out again, a high whine from the back of his throat. Oh. You could work with this. You rolled your hips again and leaned down to whisper in his ear.

“You got a problem there, officer?” you teased. He shivered and his face flushed such a pretty shade of pink, the color dusted across his cheeks and even his nose. You could feel he was now fully hard beneath you. Cute.

“I-I’m sorry I. . . I’ll get up, you don’t have to-“ you cut him off, pressing against his chest as he tried to sit up. You leaned in, your lips just an inch away from his as your breath ghosted over them, giving him a chance to pull back. When he doesn’t, you press your lips to his.

You began gently, placing a chaste, closed-mouthed kiss to his lips, testing the waters. Leon had other ideas. He moved one hand from your hips to the back of your head, pulling you in and kissing you hard. You gasp, and he uses the opportunity to lick into your mouth. You pull back, surprised, and Leon instantly begins fumbling again.

“I’m so sorry, that was too much I. . . I’ve wanted to kiss you for so long and I should have asked you and I don’t know whatcameovermepleaseforgive-“ you place a hand over his mouth and give him a soft smile.

“Lee, honey, it’s okay. You did nothing wrong. Now,” you replied, glancing down at the very obvious outline of his now rock-hard cock, “are you going to let me help you with that, sweetheart?” He nodded, looking at you with what you could only describe as idolatry.

You removed your hand from his mouth and watched it fall slack, his eyes wide. You lifted yourself off him and moved to unbuckle his belt, but stopped. “Lee, is this okay?”

“Yes, God please, it’s more than okay, just please touch me, baby,” he whined. Even cuter. You still hesitated.

“Have you done anything like this before?” Your question seemed to take him by surprise, and the adorable blush on his cheeks only deepened. He seemed to shrink in on himself as he shook his head slowly. You were astounded. A man like Leon had never moved past first base? Astonishing, but something to ponder over another time.

Your silence and surprised expression did nothing to comfort Leon, and he only became more unsure of himself, seemingly trying to make himself as small as possible. He sniffled a bit, and your heart broke as you watched those big blue eyes fill with tears as he stumbled over an apology.

“I’m sorry, you don’t have to do anything, I don’t know how to make you feel good. . .” he trailed off. You gave him another gentle smile and placed a hand against his cheek, stroking it with your thumb.

“Well, Lee, we’re in a training room, aren't we?” You grinned, watching him relax a bit. “Besides, I want to help you. Will you let me?” you asked, looking into those still-teary eyes. So pretty.

He nodded, still shy, and you smiled. You unbuckled his belt for him and undid his pants, pulling them down to his knees along with his boxers. He cried out and you winced; only then did you consider that the rough drag of his boxers over his cock and the slap against his stomach as it sprung upward might be too much for him. Oh, but what a pretty cock it was.

About six inches long and girthy as all hell, it was beautiful. There was a thatch of curly hair at the base, just a bit darker than the pretty blonde on his head, and the tip was such a deep red that it almost looked angry. You couldn’t help but swipe a finger over the bead of precum gathering at the slit and pop it in your mouth, earning an incoherent cry from Leon, along with damn near the widest eyes you'd ever seen. You moaned and smiled softly around your finger at the heady taste, both satisfied and wanting to put on a bit of a show for the man.

Leon was fairly certain you were trying to kill him.

You took him into your mouth as he still laid sprawled on the ground; he decided this was just fine because he knew the second you opened your mouth for him he would have fallen to his knees, whether that be from weakness or exaltation, he did not know.

You took as much of his cock into your mouth as you could, allowing it to push into your open throat and brushing your nose into the curls at the base. He cried out, sounding almost pained, but were you not torturing him? Both of his hands were curled tightly into fists at his side, banging against the padded ground as he tried desperately to keep from grabbing the back of your head and fucking into your mouth. This just would not do.

You pulled away, and he lifted his head to look at you and whined at the loss of contact, his lower lip even sticking out a bit and his eyes still teary. God, so cute.

“Relax, sweetheart, hm?” You took one of his hands in yours and moved it to the back of your head. He wound his fingers tightly in your hair and gave an experimental pull, letting go as if he was burned when you moaned.

“‘M sorry, did I hurt you? I didn’t mean to, I swear-“

“Lee, it felt good. Besides, what did I just tell you?” You raised an eyebrow at him and he breathed deeply.

“I’m relaxing, I promise, I’m relaxing.” He dropped his head back to the floor and looked up at the ceiling.

You sat up to look at him more directly, once again taking in the full view of that pretty pink blush on his face, and he met your eyes.

“Leon, I want you to do what feels good and natural for you, okay? I promise that if I don’t like something you do, I’ll tell you right away, and I promise I’ll do the same for you. You promise you’ll tell me if you don’t like something or you want to stop?” He nodded but you shook your head. “I need to hear it, baby, promise me you’ll be honest with me, no judgment whatsoever.”

He cleared his throat, wondering when it began to feel so dry. “I promise. I promise I’ll tell you if I don’t like something so please touch me, let me touch you, anything,” he answered. You smiled down at him.

“Of course, honey,” a hint of condescension in your voice. “Good boys get whatever they ask for, don’t you know that? Are you a good boy?”

Leon’s breath caught in his throat and his cock jumped. ‘Oh my God,’ he thought, ‘she’s seriously going to fucking kill me.”

You moved to stand, undoing your pants and sliding them off to give him a view of your panties before sliding them off as well. You straddled him again, sitting so that the underside of his cock was pressed against you as he moaned. You rocked your hips forward, coating him in your slick. His hands flew to your hips and grabbed them, hard. You smiled, he was finally letting loose a bit. You continued to rock gently back and forth, giving him some time to adjust to the sensation before lifting your hips and using your hand to line his cock up with your entrance before using your other hand to grab his face, forcing him to look at you.

He stared, wide-eyed, cheeks slightly squished and eyelashes still wet from unshed tears. “You okay with this Lee?” you asked.

Jesus Christ, was he okay with this.

He whined, hips bucking upwards searching for some friction, stopping when you gave him a stern look. Words. Words. You only accepted words. He could come up with some words, right?

He was frustrated, he just wanted you to touch him already, he wanted you so bad he could barely think. A nearly pained cry ripped from his throat before he began babbling.

“Please, please sit down, please fuck me, please touch me I’ve been such a good boy I promise I have! Please just take whatever you want, fuck me however you want, use me-fuck!”

You cut him off by sitting down, sheathing him in you completely, balls pressed to your ass. You didn’t think he could get any prettier than he already was. But with his back arched, his teeth gritted, his brows furrowed, and his big blue eyes screwed shut, this was definitely the prettiest you’d ever seen him. You tried to bounce on him a bit but he gripped your hips, keeping you flush with his pelvis.

“No, please don’t move yet, give me a second,” he whined. He was fairly certain that if you moved he was going to cum within seconds, and he wanted to make you feel good before he did that. He took a deep breath. “Can you. . . Show me what to do? Is there something I can do with my hands that will make you feel good?” He asked, still shy.

You smiled fondly at him, deciding not to tease him this time, as easy as it would have been. You nodded and lifted one of his hands off your hip, guiding his thumb to your clit and showing him how to circle it just the way you liked. You let go of his hand to let him take over, and he kept up the pace perfectly, even adding a bit more pressure here and there, causing you to buck your hips and moan softly. Quick learner, hm?

“You can move now, please,” Leon whined. As much as he wanted to get you off he didn’t think that he could keep lying on the floor, balls deep in the person he’s loved for months without going crazy.

“Okay baby, I’m going to start slow, okay? Tell me if this is alright,” you said. He nodded and you decided to cut him a break just this once. You placed your hands on his chest and lifted yourself up just a few inches and dropped back down, and he keened, a pathetic sound that reminded you of the time he dislocated his shoulder in training. You picked up the pace, bouncing on him gently as he damn near writhed beneath you, his thumb fighting to keep circling your clit all the while. He’d already gotten you close when you were only seated on him, so it didn’t take long for your climax to approach.

“Lee, baby,” you panted, “I think I’m gonna cum. Please don’t stop what you’re doing, keep going just like that.” God himself could not have ripped him away from you right now, so he obliged. You began to lose your rhythm, but Leon, bless him, kept circling your clit like his life depended on it. You came, rutting your hips sharply against his and digging your nails into his chest. He watched your face closely, taking in every detail, every twitch in your expression, knowing damn well he’d be imagining this moment every time he jacked off for probably the rest of his life. Leon’s thumb began to feel a little too rough, the overstimulation getting to you, so you lifted his hand away from you and placed it back on your hip.

“Lee honey, you wanna cum in me?”

Oh my God.

“Are. . . Are you sure?” he asked. He may not know much, but he knew cumming inside was no small thing.

“Mhm,” you replied, nodding and leaning down to peck his lips. “Plus,” you continued, “I want your pretty cock in me when you cum. Don’t you want to see your cum leaking out of this pussy? And I keep telling you baby, relax. I want to hear more of those pretty sounds that I know you’re trying to hold back.”

Jesus Christ. You were actually trying to kill him.

When he didn’t answer because he was fairly certain his brain had turned to mush and started leaking out of his ears, you rolled your hips against him again, snapping him out of his haze. “Come on baby, you gonna ask to cum in this pussy?” you asked. He whined. He would fall to his knees and beg for this opportunity if he had to, and here you were, offering it up on your own.

“Please, angel, please let me cum inside, I wa-want to so bad. I was so good for you, wasn’t I? Darling, I’ll do w-whatever you ask of me, I swear, just please, please let me fill you up with my cum.”

Good enough.

You picked your hips back up and slammed them back down with an intensity you’d been holding back until now. You fucked him almost brutally, and good God did he let loose so you could hear him.

He looked beautiful like this, his hair mussed and spread out on the ground like a halo, his mouth hanging open slightly and his big baby blues glazed over and once again filling with tears. You had him so tightly wound that it didn’t take long for him to get close.

“I-I think I’m-I think I’m gonna c-cum, I’m gonna cum, I’m cumming, fuck baby I’m cumming, I’m cumming, I’m cumming.” He repeated this like a mantra and you took mercy on him, finally slowing down so you could feel every twitch of his cock as he pumped you full of his cum and fat tears spilled freely from his eyes.

“Hey, hey, sweetheart, what’s wrong?” you asked, gripping the front of his shirt and using it to haul him into a sitting position as he wrapped his arms tightly around your waist. He buried his face into your chest and freely cried as you stroked his hair and rocked him back and forth.

“I’m sorry, I’m sorry,” he repeated through sobs. There was nothing you could do but continue trying to soothe him and tell him he had nothing to be sorry about.

He finally stopped crying a few minutes later, settling back down into only the occasional sniffle. You peeled him away from you to look at him, holding his face in your hands and wiping away a few stray tears with your thumbs.

“Hey, honey, what’s wrong? Did you not like something? Talk to me here baby,” you spoke to him gently as if you were trying to soothe a wild animal. He sniffed, his nose red.

“I. . . I don’t know,” he cried, unable to meet your gaze. “It felt so good, I don’t know what happened, I’m so sorry-“

You cut him off. “Hey. Look at me,” you said, and he finally lifted his eyes to meet yours. “You have nothing to be sorry for, Lee.” You paused, trying to come up with the best way to explain this to him. “When you cum, Lee,” you continued, “your brain releases tons of endorphins, and sometimes that makes people cry. It’s nothing to be ashamed of, okay?”

He sniffled again. “Really?”

“Really,” you replied. You pulled him back in for a hug and he once again buried his face in your chest. He took a deep breath. He had to ask.

“Is this. . . Is this a one-time thing? Do you want to just stay friends?” He asked, hoping to God that’s not what you wanted.

You chuckled lightly. “No Lee, I don’t want this to be a one-time thing. I’d love to do this again, maybe go on some dates, if you want to take me.”

He straightened, moving to look at you as his eyes lit up. “Really? You want to go on a date with me?” he asked, almost comically enthusiastic. “I’d love to take you, there’s tons of places I’ve thought of taking you to, there’s this restaurant-“ he cut himself off abruptly, eyes widening as he realized he just let slip he totally had a crush on you and also totally had said crush for a good long while. You laughed.

“I’d love to go to dinner with you, Officer Kennedy,” you replied playfully. He couldn’t help but smile, flashing that crooked grin you loved so much. Then he watched you wince, looking at you curiously with his head tilted to the side like a puppy. You’d felt his cock finally soften, slipping out of you and being followed closely by his cum that was quickly seeping out onto his belly. “Before we do that, though,” you said, “we have got to find some paper towels.”

ZOO WEE MAMA thank y’all for reading! Might write a part 2 where reader gives Leon and intro to *ahem* oral presentation hehe

[starboybutler]

Chasing Cars

ao3 link

summary: bucky can't find a reason to get out of bed anymore. gale comes to him one night, and he's reminded of why he's fighting.

word count: 6451

warnings: bucky's crumbling mental health, gale's crumbling mental health, curt's death, slight eating disorders, depressive episodes, smut towards the end

notes: wow this was supposed to be pure smut but i accidentally plotted on my porn because i felt like being sad. oh well have this kinda character study thing i wrote purely on a whim

bucky hadn't left the bed.

he couldn't find a reason to. the rest of the men were outside, gathering wood. training, doing god knows what else to prepare for a plan that would never play out. after some brits had made their escape attempt, the amount of german pricks on duty almost doubled. that, and morale had pretty much gone down after they had said the captured escapees were executed. no one even wanted to make an attempt anymore.

they could talk about escape all they wanted to– it would never happen. they would try, fail, get shot, and get buried somewhere on enemy territory. hell, odds were good that if they waited it out the same thing would happen. so why bother?

he had been staring at the wooden slats of the bunk above him for about an hour, now. this felt familiar, at least. as he lay here, he could pretend he was back in base between missions, talking to curt about whatever was going on in their muddled brains.

“it was a close one today. don't want anymore missions like that for a while.”

“that's just how it is, bucky. they’ll only get tougher, y’know. but i think we got it.”

“yeah?”

“yeah. i’ll be tellin’ my grandkids about this one day, y’know. don't seem like it now, but i promise it’ll be a distant memory soon.”

always so optimistic. that was one of the last late-night conversations he had ever had with curt before he went down. he never even got to say goodbye to him. he’ll never forget the pure dread he felt when he asked buck about him, and he didn't have an answer.

sure, bucky could have believed he was alive with every fiber of his being, but that didn't change the fact that curt was dead, crashed somewhere over unknown territory, most likely to never be found.

so much pain, so much death. and for what, he would wonder. what was he really fighting for anymore?

“hey,”

a soft, low voice, like honey. all too familiar.

he looked up, faced with gale, who was just about the only friend he had left at this point. even then, he felt as if buck was slipping from his grasp at times. tensions were high, and he had yelled at him more than he would like to admit.

just yesterday, they got into it outside. john was at fault, he absolutely deserved the punch to the face gale gave him, but neither of them had spoken to one another afterwards. john was never good witth apologies.

“hey,” he said back, the bruise on his cheek left by the blonde throbbing dully as he made eye contact with him for the first time since their scuffle.

“you just gonna lay here all day?” gale asked, his tone not angry or accusatory– just soft and genuinely curious, laced with just a tinge of worry.

“that's the plan,” he replied, shrugging. “nothin’ else to do. unless you wanna punch me again.”

gale stiffened a bit, his lips twitching as if he were trying to find the right thing to say, before he just sighed heavily.

“i’m worried about you.”

bucky shut his eyes, a sigh of his own escaping his chest.

“i know.”

it fell quiet between them. john had closed his eyes so that he couldn't see gale’s sad baby blue’s boring into him, urging him to roll over and show him his most vulnerable parts like a dog begging for attention. for pity.

he knew gale was worried. he knew it before their fight, and he knew it now. gale wasn't an idiot. far from it, actually. he was intelligent and observant, which was why he was such a damn good pilot. he saw john’s pain before john felt it. he saw it in how john would lash out at anyone that looked at him wrong, and how he would toss and turn in his sleep at night.

“you haven't eaten in a few days.”

“i know,” bucky said again. he couldn't bear to imagine gale’s expression. “i’m tired of the same shit. if i see another potato i’ll puke.”

“bucky.” gale hissed, voice urgent. “i’m being serious.”

“so am i.”

he hadn't eaten in about three days. ever since his last serving of the same bland bullshit, he decided he would rather starve than touch it again. so what, if he lost a little weight? that seemed to be the least of his problems right now.

he didn't care anymore. he just didn't care if he withered away inside this stalag surrounded by his men. that seemed to be the most honorable thing to do at this point- because at least then he'd be around people that knew him, and celebrated him. he'd rather die here and now, miserable, than drag it out and die alone in enemy territory with no one around.

“okay, bucky.” gale mumbled, clearly on edge already and not in the mood to argue. “just…i’ll be outside with everyone else. you should eat some dinner tonight.”

the blonde stalked off, expression and gaze steely and distant as bucky rolled back onto his side, facing the wall and sighing tiredly.

night rolled around and he didn't drag himself out of bed for dinner. he couldn't. the urge to eat, to get up and walk and be active wasn't there. his will to survive had vanished.

gale wasn't the only one worried about him. he heard everyone muttering to one another behind his back as they ate the slop that was served to them half-heartedly.

‘he doesn't look good at all.’

‘i know. when’s the last time he left his bunk?’

‘hush and eat. he can probably hear you.’

bucky didn't care what they were saying. whatever it was, it was probably true. maybe word around the stalag was that major john egan was a spineless, worthless, gutless piece of shit that gave up on everyone around him when they needed him most. harsh, yes, but not necessarily wrong. john was acutely aware of how him laying in this bed, rotting for days on end was selfish to his men. he knew that they were looking to him for guidance, and all he was giving them was a depressing display of self pity.

his mind drifted back to curt. he would always tell bucky that he was one of the strongest and most resilient people he had ever met, and how he would give anything to be as half as stubborn as him.

bucky always shot back that stubborn didn't necessarily mean good, but curt refused to see him in a bad light under any circumstances.

“i got you a bowl.”

gale’s voice. he glanced over his shoulder, gazing at the metal dish that gale was holding in his direction. same meal they'd been served for the last few months. the rumbling in his stomach wasn't even a bother to him anymore.

“thanks buck,” he hummed, turning to face the wall once more. “but i’m not hungry.”

silence fell over the room, tense at bucky’s blatant refusal of the food gale offered. he heard a short sigh from his friend, as well as a scuffing of his shoe against the floor as he turned on his heel and walked away.

he felt his stomach sink with guilt, but he really wasn't hungry. what was the point of eating, prolonging his survival when he would most likely die in the very bunk he was laying in? the thought made his appetite disappear.

he pulled the thin, scratchy blankets they were given over himself, clutching it in his hands tightly as if it were the only thing keeping him tethered to this reality.

honestly, it might have been.

𓆩✧𓆪

days and days passed him by. he wasn't able to shake the dread that had begun eating at him days ago. in fact, it seemed to have consumed him whole by this point. he only left the bed when he was instructed to by those goddamn guards, or when he had to use the bathroom. he didn't get up for food, water, to exercise, to speak to friends, nothing. he was not interested but a shell of the outgoing, confident man he used to be.

gale had kept trying to get him to leave his bunk, or to at least put some food in his system. he would bring a plate of food for him every night, and bucky would refuse it all the same. he would tell him that the others were asking for him, but bucky just brushed it off. if they were really worried, they knew where to find him.

only a few other men besides gale came to check on him during the day, hambone being one of them. he started talking about how different things were without him around. it was quiet, and no one really liked it all that much. they missed his snarky comments about the german guards and how he would shit talk them all day. that got a little smile lut of him, he had to admit that. what got him feeling serious again was when hambone started talking about how gale was taking his absence.

“he’s been quiet. way quieter than normal.” he said, voice dropping low. “only says one or two words to everyone before…he just shuts down. goes into autopilot. it's not really like him.”

and he was right. after he had said that he kept think about gale, how he was probably out there with god knows how much on his mind, and for bucky to only be adding to that…

what was he doing?

was he really causing buck that much distress? the thought made his stomach sink with guilt. gale already had so much on his mind, and for bucky to act like a petulant child and add onto all of that stress and anxiety and pain he’s been bearing for the entirety of the men trapped here was so unbelievably shitty.

what kind of friend– what kind of man did something like this to his other half– his rock, his one source of sanity in this camp, in this war?

he curled in on himself further, self loathing and dread curling their ugly black tendrils around him, engulfing him in a pitch black abyss.

he felt so, so sick all of a sudden.

𓆩✧𓆪

“word is there's gonna be another march in a few days,” hambone dutifully informed him, leaning against the creaky wooden wall and staring out the window, into the yard.

bucky was actually sitting up in his bunk today, idly fidgeting with the little radio gale had crafted a few days earlier in his hands. he hadn't actually spoken to buck, finding himself unable to think of anything of value to utter to him.

“again?”

“mhm,” he mumbled, fiddling with the dirty sleeve of his sheepskin. “apparently allies are real close. gale caught word of that last night on that radio. not sure when the germans caught wind. might happen tonight.”

bucky grimaced, setting the tiny radio on the cluttered table, sighing and squeezing his eyes shut at the prospect of walking for days on end just to get to another shitty camp, and rot there for god knows how long. he hasn't eaten in a good week, and he knows his odds of surviving the march on an empty stomach are little to none.

“thanks for tellin’ me,” buck said softly, standing from his bunk and making his way towards the door, keeping his eyes glued to the floor as he stepped outside for the first time in weeks. immediately, he felt eyes on him from all angles.

‘major egan?’

‘he’s okay!’

‘christ, i thought he died…’

he smiled humorlessly, making his way over to the water pump and grabbing one of the metal jugs, placing it under the tap and filling it up with slightly murky water and sighing to himself. he hadn't seen gale yet. a small part of him was hoping that buck would be the first person waiting for him, but he also wasn't in a good headspace to talk to him right now. he didn't know what to say to him, after knowing all the torment he had put him through with his little episode.

he turned the tap off, exhaling deeply and picking up the jug– flushing when he struggled a bit due to the weakness that came with staying in bed and not eating in about a week. he lifted it on the second attempt, huffing and hauling the jug back to his bunk.

out of the corner of his eye, he saw gale, encouraging some men to push a little harder to break the ground using that damned contraption- whatever it was called. he tensed at the sight of him, speeding up his steps until he was safe back in his bunk.

he set the jug down heavily, not even thirsty anymore. that night march could kill him, for all he cared. maybe then gale’s problem’s would be solved.

he laid in his bunk miserably, jug discarded as he thought of gale. he deserved the world, he deserved to be happy, to live a life without having to worry about him being a sad sack of shit, wallowing in his self pity. he did his best to try and keep his spirits up, but he couldn't help it. he didn't have anything to look forward to anymore. life just seemed like a whirlwind of misery and he didn't know how much more he could take. so many friends lost, so many people dead.

maybe when he died, gale would finally move on, lose that stress that came with knowing him. he could only hope.

𓆩✧𓆪

john had lost track of time long ago. he only knew day and night, and occasionally he was told what month it was.

he knew it was late, evidenced by the snores of all the men around him, and how the room was pitch black. the moonlight didn't reach his bunk, leaving him alone in the darkness to stare up at the wooden slats of the bunk above him.

he heard shuffling from somewhere in the room, then the creaking of floorboards as someone moved towards his bed.

“bucky?”

gale’s voice rang in his ears, making him go completely still as if he were a scared cat. maybe he was dreaming, and the gale beside him was nothing more than a figment of his imagination, spurred on by hunger. but when gale didn't leave, he turned to look at the blonde with tired eyes.

“yeah?”

“can’t sleep,” he said softly, and the bags under his eyes seemed to prove it. “mind if i bunk with you tonight?”

bucky wanted to say so many things. ‘of course you can.’ ‘no, i don't want you to get too attached to me if i’m bound to die soon.’ ‘i love you.’ but all that came from him was a little “uh huh,” as he scoot over to make room for the blonde.

he felt his mattress dip, and a familiar warmth crowding at his side. he almost jumped up at the almost desperateness of it all, half expecting gale to just lay by him and turn the other way. the blonde wrapped his arms around his waist, a surprising amount of muscle on them from the training they had been doing in preparation for an escape, and buried his face into the nape of his neck.

it was dangerous to be doing this here, with everyone in the room. anyone could wake up and they'd probably kill them on the spot before the nazis could. no one would accept it– two respected majors, cuddled up together like shy newlyweds in the middle of a shitty stalag, when they should be leading their men, training them, helping out in some way. but, as gale tightened his arms around john, holding onto him as if he'd disappear if he let go, he found that he could care less about what everyone would think of them.

“buck,” he started, voice soft, as soft as it's been in a long while. “what–”

“i’m scared, john,” he whispered, trembling ever so slightly as he pressed closer, like he was trying to become one with the other man. “i’m trying so hard to keep up appearances, to lead and be strong, but i’m scared.” he admitted, fingers digging into john’s side.

john was shocked into silence for a minute. gale was always so well put together. he never cracked under pressure, he just didn't. up in the air, when his engines were out and his crew was panicking, he would land that b-17 like it was nothing. ‘no engine cleven’, they called him, and he just smiled in that shy little way of his, heading to the barracks to sleep off the shock and do it all over again.

he'd seen gale shaken up a few times. when they landed in africa, he was quiet. quieter than usual, anyway. he was staring off into the distance, eyebrows drawn together slightly as he worried that damned toothpick in his mouth until it snapped in two.

but for gale to admit that he was scared was…unheard of. he wasn't the type to show or admit his emotions too openly, none of them were. but being here and eating the same bland shit, not knowing if you're ever gonna get to go home, and watching the last of your friends die during nighttime marches to a new camp did something to you. it broke whatever spirit you thought you had left.

“gale, hey-” he whispered, turning on his side and gently cupping the blonde’s face, watching as tears welled up in his eyes and spilled down his flushed cheeks. “hey, look at me. none of that,”

he used his thumb to wipe away his tears, tilting his chin up so that the blonde’s glassy eyes met his. he hated seeing gale cry. he hated knowing that all this time, he's been in pain, the weight of all of these men in camp on his shoulders, counting on him, and all john has been doing is making it worse.

“i’m sorry,” gale sniffs, hiccuping softly, breath picking up as john pulls him close, allowing the blonde to hide in his chest and inhale his scent. “fuck, i’m sorry. i just don't know how much longer i– if i can do this anymore.”

those words put fear into john’s heart. if gale, the brains, the brawn, the heart and soul of the very operation to get them out of here was losing hope– what did that mean for them? were they truly doomed to die in enemy hands, holding onto the hope that allies would somehow manage to sneak close enough to the shitty camps they were held hostage in and launch an attack on the germans?

he knew most of their thinking was extremely wishful, but it was something. a little glimmer of hope in a dark, gray times. for buck, gale was that glimmer of hope– that thing he held onto when all else seemed to fail him. even when he felt he’d die here, at least it would be with buck.

he couldn't let gale give up like this. not for his sake– hell, not for everyone’s sake. if gale gave up, he gave up. and if he gave up, everyone else would give up. a hell of a burden to carry on top of everything.

“gale,” he said softly, taking both of his slender hands into his large ones, caressing the backs of his knuckles with his calloused thumb. “gale, you've gotta keep going. without you, this whole thing would fall apart.” he said, nuzzling closer to him.

“i can't save everyone, bucky.” he hiccuped, trembling in little fits and starts, shattering john’s heart as he watched. “i can't even save the person that matters most to me. if i can't do that then–”

“you don't need to save me.” john said harshly, much more harshly than he intended to. he saw gale wince, and he immediately regretted being so harsh. “i mean– you don’t– i’m just like this. nothing you can do about it, buck. it’s not your job to fix me, okay?”

“i want to. i want you to be okay, bucky. i want–”

he sniffled, nuzzling his hot, tear-stained cheeks into bucky’s large hands. “i want you to be okay. i want you to be there with me, no matter what. i just– we've lost so many men, john. so many. but i still have you. i can save you, i can help you. i just….i need to make you feel better than this. i need you to know how much you mean to me.”

bucky was stunned into silence. he spent all this time thinking gale loathed him for his behavior, wishing he was dead and gone so that he had one less thing to worry about– but gale just spilled his guts to him about how john was the most precious thing in his life right now. not marge– him. him. it made his heart swell with something ugly.

“i’ll always be with you, buck.” john said softly, stroking his blonde locks, once soft but now slightly gritty with dirt and grime from their time in the stalag. even with limited supplies to take care of his hygiene, gale managed to outshine every single one of them in terms of beauty. “what’d i say? if i’m gonna bet on anything, i’m gonna bet on us. y’hear me?”

a shaky little exhale left gale’s mouth, pressing his face into john’s chest like a boy seeking comfort from his mom after a scary dream. john didn't say anything else, just held gale close as he sniffled and sobbed into his chest until he cried himself to sleep, soft snores leaving his pretty pink lips in soft little puffs.

he felt a surge of overprotectiveness wash over him as he watched the blonde sleep, curled into his body and clutching one of john’s hands close to his chest. he didn't need to feel sorry for himself anymore. he needed to be there for gale, so that he stopped carrying these burdens on his shoulders. they were a team, always have been. always will be. nothing in this godforsaken place could change that.

𓆩✧𓆪

john got up the next morning, careful not to disturb gale, who was still sound asleep next to him. he was on his side, almost completely curled up on himself with his thumb pressed against his lips, biting at it idly.

john smiled softly, eyes filled with a fondness for the blonde as he shuffled into his shoes, heading out into the daylight to grab some rations for the both of them.

last night was extremely sobering for him. he had spent so much time wallowing in his self hatred that he hadn't realized that his neglectful actions towards himself had been affecting gale in a negative way. when his friend came to him, crying and sobbing, worried for his wellbeing, insisting that he was the only thing that was worth fighting for anymore, he knew he had to get it together.

he went to the service counter and asked for two servings of food, saying that his friend was still asleep and that he would wake him up when he got back. who would lie for extra slop anyways?

he was given two plates, and he hurried back to his bunk, where a few of the other men began to stir awake, including gale.

“mornin, boys,” he said, setting down his two plates on the lightly cluttered table. “food’s gettin’ served up. go grab some.”

they all let out a noncommittal groan as he sat down at his bunk, digging into his mean of bland potatoes. it didn't taste any better than the last time he ate it, but he’ll be damned if he wasn't hungry.

gale sat up beside him, blinking the sleep from his eyes, which were slightly puffy from crying. his baby blue’s landed on john and widened as he saw him scarfing down the bland mush.

john smiled at him. “mornin’,”

“you're eating.” he said, voice quivering slightly.

he shrugged slightly, stirring the mush around absentmindedly. “got hungry. craved potatoes. you’ll never guess what the canteen was servin’.”

gale was on him in a matter of seconds, hugging him tightly and pressing his face into his shoulder. he was trembling, a shaky exhale leaving him as john set his plate down, returning the hug and smiling against his shoulder.

“thank you.” he whispered, voice so heart-wrenchingly vulnerable.

“don't count on it.”

𓆩✧𓆪

gale bunked with him for the next few nights, out of pure need for comfort and reassurance. he was obviously happy that bucky was eating again, but he was still stressed with all of the ongoings in the camp.

bucky had stepped in and gave a hand in training, instructing the men in what to do and how to do it, but there were just so many of them. on top of that, those german bastards were always waving their guns around, yelling at them whenever they felt like it. john had almost gotten into it with a few of them, but gale har talked him down.

what would he do without him?

“you need to be more careful when you talk to the guards.” gale said, idly smoothing down the fabric of john’s thin sleep shirt, which made john’s chest fill with warmth.

“to hell with those guards.” he muttered angrily, looking into gale’s eyes with a steely determination. “i just got my spirit back. i ain’t gonna let these nazi bastards destroy it again.”

“they'll shoot you, bucky.” gale said softly, looking up at him with a hard gaze. “zero hesitation. they've done it to other men before, and they’ll do it to you.”

“and then they’ll have a hell of a riot on their hands.” he laughs softly, which made gale sigh and press his forehead to his chest.

“why can't you just be good?”

the words caught john off guard, making his cheeks flush and his heartbeat kick up a notch. he felt his heartbeat pick up whenever gale was close to him like this, but it was a pace he had gotten used to, honestly. but hearing gale tell him to be good in a soft voice– as if he were speaking to a dog made his heartbeat kick up in another way entirely.

“uhm,” he started, face flushed a soft pink, hands finding gale’s waist and fidgeting with the hem of the blonde’s shirt. “i can– i can be good, i jus’...”

he was stumbling over his words painfully obviously. he was hoping that gale couldn't see the flush on his face in the darkness of the room, but knowing his luck he probably could.

“what's wrong?” gale asked softly, eyes lidded as his hands halted on john’s broad chest, thumb idly brushing across the fabric of his shirt in soothing little circles. “your heart is beating really hard.”

“nothin’.” he said, way too quickly for it to be true. “just. hot. i ‘unno.”

silence fell, save for the sounds of breathing from the men around them, and their own soft breathing. john really took in gale in this moment, how soft and vulnerable he looked.

his sleep shirt was loose on him, thanks to him losing weight in the camp over the months they’ve been here. his eyes were soft with sleep, lips pink and plump and parted with each little breath he took. god, he was gorgeous. he wanted nothing more than to take him on the bed right now, make him cry out his name so that everyone in the room knew who he belonged to.

he’d had these thoughts of gale since they met in basic training, but they had only gotten worse the longer they stayed in camp. back on base, he was able to keep his mind off of gale, or at least quell his desire by picking up some desperate broad in a bar and sleeping with her. but now, he looked at gale and could hardly keep his mind out of the gutter. he hated it.

“hot, huh?” gale chuckled softly, hands running up john’s chest and resting on his shoulders. “you're a bad liar when it comes to me, y’know that?”

john flushed darker, hands tightening on gale’s waist and pulling him closer, careful to keep their lower halves apart so that the blonde didn’t feel his erection through his shorts. “i’m not lying.”

“mhm?” the blonde chuckles, leaning closer to him, invading his space so that their noses touched, breath mingling together as they stared at one another tenderly, something more carnal and desirous underneath. “why're you hard then?”

bucky choked on a gasp, his face completely red to the point where he was sure gale could see it, even in the dark. their lower halves weren't touching, and yet, gale had known. read him like a book.

“how’d you–?”

“you have a thing you do,” he says, thumb rubbing at his collarbone gently. “you stumble over your words. start touchin’ things with your hands. fidgeting. sometimes it's more noticeable. its a lot less noticeable when you hit on girls at a bar, but i picked up on it.”

john huffed, worrying his bottom lip with his teeth and averting his eyes. he wasn't expecting gale to call him out so straightforwardly. it made him embarrassed. he also didn't expect gale to trail a hand down to the hem of his shorts, dipping his cool fingers inside and making john gasp sharply.

“want me to take care of it?”

“gale,” john hissed, eyes wide as the blonde’s nimble fingers trailed lower and lower, scratching at the wiry hair just above his hard cock. “our men are all around us. they might hear us.”

“then you'll have to be quiet, won’t you?”

a strangled noise left john’s throat as gale wrapped his thin fingers around his hot, hard length, giving a tentative squeeze. a shuddery breath left deep from bucky’s chest, his hands squeezing gale’s waist so hard he was bound to leave bruises.

“that good?” gale whispered, shuffling his boxers down and letting john’s cock free completely, swiping his thumb across the head and gathering the precum there so the friction of his hand was less harsh. bucky didn't have it in him to answer coherently, so he just nodded and bucked his hips upwards into gale’s touch.

it was intoxicating, the way his fingers occasionally caught under the sensitive head of his cock and made his cock jerk and leak even more, all over gale’s pretty hand.

“see? look at you.” the blonde cooed, eyes lidded and practically glowing as he gave a twist of his wrist on the upstroke, relishing in the little groans and gasps bucky let out. “you can be good for me, why can't you be good out there? i know you're a good boy, bucky. such a good dog.”

“jesus christ,” bucky swore, stomach tensing up and cock leaking into gale’s palm thickly, precum making the glide of his palm slicker. “i’m gunna cum- oh, god, buck–”

“shh,”

the blonde scolded him lightly, free hand moving to cover his mouth firmly as he jerked him off faster, the wet, slick noises coming from between them downright obscene. he felt like a girl getting laid in her bedroom, her parents right next door as her boyfriend fingered her so good she couldn't help but whine and whimper.

he didn't have time to warn gale as he shot off, thick ropes of his spend painting buck’s chest and stomach a pretty pearlescent white. when he pulled his shirt up, he didn't know.

he came down from his high, and found gale’s lips on his. he kissed back, gentle and hungry at the same time, like he wanted to devour gale whole. he pulled him close, choking out a gasp into the kiss as he felt gale’s erection press into his hip.

“buck,” he panted, letting the blonde thrust against him minutely, the little pleased noises he let out going straight to john’s spent cock, bringing it back to life. “lemme– lemme make you feel good.”

gale exhaled sharply, rolling his hips against him more desperately, now. “please.”

john flipped them over so fast that it gave them both whiplash for a moment. it was short lived, though as he was faced with the sight of gale’s hard cock straining at his boxers. john’s large hands spread the blonde’s thighs apart, tugging his boxers down his hips and letting his pretty pink cock spring free from its confines.

john was on him in an instant, licking at the clear bead of precum that gathered at the pretty pink head. gale gasped softly, his breath shaky and deep as john laved his dick in attention, running his hot tongue along the vein that adorned the underside, sucking at the tip, doing anything but taking it in his mouth yet– to enamored by the sweet little noises gale was making.

“john, please.” buck whimpered, voice soft and needy as he thrust upwards, cockhead sliding against bucky’s wet lips. “please,”

he begged so prettily. who was he to resist?

he finally took gale into his mouth in one go, nose nestled into a small thatch of blonde pubic hair just above his dick. gale bit back a moan, hands flying into john’s pretty curls, gripping them so hard that he was sure he ripped a few strands out. the sting made bucky moan around gale’s length, bobbing his head slowly.

he loved every little noise that left gale– the little gasps and quiet keens as he drooled around his cock, eyelashes fluttering as the tip of his cock nudged at the back of his throat. he wishes that he could hear gale at full volume, whining and begging for more– but they couldn't. not here.

“such a good mouth,” gale moaned, voice breathy and deep and so smooth to his ears, melting his brain as he pulled off his cock completely, licking at his dripping slit and collecting his precum with his tongue. “fuck, wish i could keep your mouth on me all day. keep you quiet. fuck–”

hearing gale cleven, straight edge, no gambling, hates sports gale cleven talking dirty to him like this sent shockwaves directly to his cock. he took him all the way back into his mouth, groaning deep in his throat as he ground against the rough sheets of the mattress, brows furrowed in concentration and pleasure as he took hold of gale’s slender hips. he felt so filthy, so needy and desperate for anything gale would give him, like a stray dog begging for food.

he wanted anything gale would give him. affection, hatred, love, loathing– he was hungry for all of it, for him. his cock was amazing on his tongue, hot and heavy and velvety, leaking in copious amounts down his throat as he swallowed every last drop of him. he could feel gale spasm in his throat, close to orgasm, and he found himself feeling greedier by the second.

“jesus christ,” buck gasped, hips lifting from the mattress, hand tightening in john’s curls, pulling him down onto his length frantically as his stomach began to spasm and tense up. “i’m– i’m gonna– john–”

his throat was flooded with gale’s spend, and he worked his throat around his sensitive cock dutifully as he swallowed it all. it was the sweetest thing he’d ever tasted, it made him hot, it made his brain melt, it made him needy for more–

he felt his cock spill against the sheets, a small whimper caught in his throat as he rode out his orgasm.

when he came to, he was aware of gale whimpering from overstimulation as he absentmindedly suckled at his cock.

“john, please,” he whined, trying to pull free. “enough.”

bucky pulled off, cheek resting on his thigh stickily. they were both panting, faces flushed and eyes glossy with aroused tears. they locked eyes, and john couldn't help the surge of emotion that overcame him as he shot up, capturing gale’s lips in a soft kiss. at this moment, everything felt like it would be okay.

“we should clean up,” gale mumbled against his lips, panting softly. “made a mess.”

“yeah,” john agreed, kissing him again, quicker this time. “think we can score new sheets?”

“we can jus’ move to my bunk for now. toss these sheets aside for morning laundry.” gale hummed, yawning softly and rubbing at his eyes like a sleepy little kid. how he could be so goddamn cute after doing something so filthy was beyond him.

“alright,” john hummed, watching as gale tucked himself into his boxers. “lemme wipe ya down first.”

john untucked a corner of the bedsheets, using them to wipe at gale’s cum stained torso gently, gale squirmed under the attention slightly, blushing at the way john was looking at him, full of love and reverence, like he hung the sun and the stars himself.

once he'd finished, he let gale stand and move back to his bunk, allowing john to rid his bed of the stained sheets and toss them aside for laundry. he'd find an excuse later.

he made his way to gale’s bunk, reversing the roles and cuddling up to gale, nuzzling into his neck and sighing deeply. gale smiled softly, hand carding through his hair gently.

“next time, we’ll try to make less of a mess,” he mumbled, voice deep with sleep as he pulled john closer.

“next time, huh? you fantasizing about it already?”

buck rolled his eyes, and bucky didn't miss the faint flush on his cheeks.

“i’m just saying. it’ll be nicer. maybe it’ll be in a proper bed, without all these people around. just the two of us, in our own bed,” he mumbled, eyes drifting shut. “just us, bucky.”

“buck–”

he didn't get to ask what he meant. he had already fallen asleep, snoring softly into the darkness of the room. buck went silent, pressing his ear to buck’s chest and listening to his steady heartbeat as he mulled over his words. his heart felt like it was going to jump out of his chest.

maybe they would get out of here. if it meant he and buck would have a promising life together, he would be damned if he died in one of these godforsaken camps.

he would make it. for them.

taglist: @mooodyblue @lauvmyself @kaiistheguy @slowsweetlove

[mysecretlittlelibrary]

can you make one with matt murdock where they're good friends but one night they're drinking and having fun and then the reader kiss him but when they making out he ends up saying someone else name and the reader leaves, later on they talk and reader apologizes for misreading their relationship and continue to be friends but theres tension in it until bradley finally admits that he likes her and he try to make up for all the time lost

~Friends Don't Treat Me Like You Do~

Pairing: Matt Murdock x Reader

Word Count: 3k

Warnings: none really, embarrassment?? Alcohol consumption, mentions of injuries (nothing major)

Genre: mostly fluff very minor angst

Summary: You've had a crush on your friend for a very long time and when you finally make your move it goes terribly wrong; And that's why friends should sleep in other beds // and friends shouldn't kiss me like you do ... // my friends won't love me like you - Friends by Ed Sheeran

A/N: I know it's a typo of some sort but it's sending me to the moon that the name Bradley is jus thrown into this ask cuz I can't even figure out what it's replacing lmaoooo anyway thank you for requesting! I hope you like it anon! :3 (also I didn't edit this plz be nice)

***

Your friendship with Matt Murdock is in some ways rather unconventional. You've been friends for many years, but these days most of your interactions consist of him stumbling over to your apartment at odd hours covered in bruises you don't ask about- not because you don't want to know but because you're pretty certain you've guessed it and you're not sure what acknowledging it would mean. So you don't ask, instead, you give him food, and tend to his wounds, and talk to him about whatever comes to mind until he inevitably falls asleep on your couch for a few hours and sneaks out early enough to go back to his place for his day job as a defense attorney with his two friends. Both of whom you'd consider friends- although not nearly as close as you are with Matt.

Tonight Matt's invited you over to his place. Apparently, he's been feeling a bit guilty that most of the time you've spent together in recent days has been just him coming over in the middle of the night. As if you'd ever actually be annoyed with taking care of your friend. Your friend you feel for more than he can ever know. Still, he insisted you come over for dinner so you did, he ordered your favorite from a takeout place near his place and now you're eating and drinking wine you brought along with you. Well, you're drinking wine, Matt's been helping himself to the beers filling his fridge.

"Whenever you come over I do all that talking Matty so today you can do the talking this time. Tell me what you've been getting up to lately." You tell him once you've covered asking each other how your day was.

"I don't do anything interesting y/n- I go to work, spend all day reading or writing lengthy opening statements or discussing things with Foggy and our clients until ungodly hours according to Karen. Sometimes they drag me out to Josie's but- there's really nothing I 'get up to' and you know that."

"Why do you do that?" You frown.

"What?"

"Make yourself seem so dull when you're not."

"Excuse me?"

"I've known you for a long time Matt and I can't think of single period of our lives where you had nothing interesting going on and yet you always talk about yourself as if you're the color beige personified. It's like you're worried that if people think you're too interesting they'll," you trail for a moment "find out something."

"What does that mean?"

"Nothing in particular. You're just way more interesting than you want people to think. For some reason."

"And what about you?"

"What about me?"

"You're not exactly an open book either."

"You got something to ask me about Matty?"

"No." He shakes his head. You stare at him for a long moment.

"We should play a game!" You announce.

"I don't really- have games?" Matt says.

"There are tons of games that don't require having anything Matt we just have to pick one."

"Like what?"

"We can play 20 questions- the right way, last letter first letter, I'm not a fan of Ghost but we can do that too, or word replacement- to name a few."

"I'm- not familiar with those besides 20 questions?"

"Well, last letter first letter you pick a category and we name items except the last letter of one item has to be the first letter of the next one so like if we're naming office supplies and I say stapler you'd say something like ruler. And Ghost is a spelling game, kinda like hot potato meets Horse the basketball game- so like you take turns spelling a word and you don't wanna be the one who finishes the word- if you do then you get a letter from the word ghost- first person to finish ghost loses. And then word replacement is just a silly game where you pick a movie or show title and change one of the words to the silliest thing you can think of." You explain quickly.

"Let's do the title one. Requires the least amount of thinking and I don't have to compete with you." He says.

"Then I'll start. Fast and Constipated." You giggle.

"Fast and Constipated!?" Matt's laugh is incredulous.

"Yeah, fast and furious but not so fun."

"Okay um- John Tucker Must... Juggle."

"That's way less fun than him dying." You laugh.

"True."

"What a Chupacabra wants."

"Goats- obviously."

"Shut up." You giggle.

"Now you- resent me 2."

"Oh that's- why would you say that?" You chuckle.

"I dunno I'm too drunk to think of movies." He mutters.

"All I've got are rom-coms in my head and those titles are not nearly as fun to fuck with. Two weeks- paleontologist?" 

"Paleontologist!? What movie was that even supposed to be?"

"Two weeks notice. Duh."

"I don't think I know that one." He frowns.

"It's about a woman who ends up working as the PA for some rich businessman when she tries to protest something he's trying to build- I forget the details but he turns out to be a giant useless manchild and when he disrupts her personal life for something frivolous she tries to quit but somehow they fall in love or whatever. It's been a while since I've watched it honestly." You shrug.

"Rom-coms are such a curious collection of movies."

"True but that one is pretty average compared to some others I've seen."

"Do you watch a lot of them?"

"I like to laugh at them mostly." You say. "You know what's a weird one? The Notebook."

"Is that not like- a classic?"

"I mean yeah but like the guy gets the girl to go on a date with him by dangling off of a moving ferris wheel."

"And that works?"

"Somehow! I mean I guess she didn't wanna feel responsible for him dropping himself off the wheel in front of an audience but I dunno it seems like he was just looking for reasons to die in that movie." You explain. "Although I never finished that movie maybe he does die. Except then it wouldn't be a rom-com I guess. It would be more tragedy, like in the Shakespearean sense."

"You are always somewhere else." Matt laughs.

"Not always! Oh! I brought that CD you wanted to borrow. We should play it." You sit up suddenly and grab your backpack.

"Are you sure all you've had is that bottle of wine?" Matt asks sitting up slowly from where he's laying on the floor.

"Where's your player?" You ignore his question.

"Should be in the bookcase." He waves absentmindedly.

"Do you want another beer while I'm up?" You ask walking over to the radio to pop the CD.

"Nah. I'm good thanks." He says. Music fills the apartment, and you can't help but sing along to the upbeat tune from Matt's CD player. You dance, well mostly spin, around the apartment giggling as you go.

"Are you dancing?" Matt turns towards you with a smile on his face although you're not looking at him.

"Of course I am- I love this song. Do you wanna dance with me?" You ask walking towards him, still dancing but less now so you can get where you're going.

"No no- I'll leave the dancing to you." Matt says before you make it all the way over to where he's sitting on the floor.

"Suit yourself." You shrug but when you attempt to change directions you trip on your backpack still on the floor and go tumbling towards the ground. Matt moves quicker than you'd expect for a blind guy off several beers but his arms shoot out and yank you towards him before your head hits the hardwood.

"Careful y/n." He says softly as he settles you into his lap.

"Do I need to be if you're here?" You joke smiling at him as you toss your arms over his shoulders.

"Y/n-" Matt's tone is warning in a way only he could get away with using on you.

"Relax Matty, I know to look after myself." You say quietly. Matt frowns slightly as if he's going to protest, but you don't let him get the words out. Alcohol coursing through your system, you seize the opportunity of his closeness and kiss him before you can talk yourself out of it. Matt lets out a noise of surprise, he heard your heart rate spike sure but he couldn't have guessed this was why. His lips move against yours for a second before something catches his attention and he's gasping out a name. Except, it's not your name.

"Karen." He breathes and it reaches your ears like a bucket of ice water dumped on your head. You jerk back suddenly.

"Oh my god-" You say scrambling out of his lap. "I- I am so sorry. I'm gonna go." You grab your bag and b-line it for the exit before Matt can even get to his feet.

"H-hang on a second y/n I-"

"I'll- I'll see you around Matt." You force yourself to say before leaving his apartment. You feel sharper than the amount of wine you've had should allow as you walk the few blocks to your place. Only once you're back in the safety of your own home do you let yourself wallow over how absolutely embarrassing that was. You might have just ruined one of the most important relationships in your life only for him to call out for another girl. You stumble into the shower in hopes of washing away some of the embarrassment you feel, or at the very least distracting yourself enough that you can shelf it and get some sleep. You spend hours tossing and replaying the moment excruciatingly but eventually, exhausting wins out and you do fall asleep. The next couple of days you pretty much ignore Matt's calls and texts. You really bury yourself in work to avoid dwelling on that awful night but you know you can't dodge him forever. Evidently, two days is as much as Matt's willing to give you to do so because on day 3 of avoidance he comes knocking at your door late at night as he sometimes does.

"Look- I know you've been avoiding me and all but-"

"Whatever you're gonna say Matt no need. I'm sorry I overstepped, I- I totally misread things the other night but hey- alcohol will do that sometimes. I'm sorry. We're good though. I'm good. I just needed a minute to lick my wounds of embarrassment. Everything's fine. Come on let's see the damage tonight hm?" You lead him into your apartment ignoring the confused look on his face. You let yourself settle back into your routine with him, patching him up, giving him food, getting him up to speed on the last couple of days of your life, telling stories, and just talking until he falls asleep on your couch. You're determined to shake this stupid crush of yours off and go back to the way things have always been between you. And if you're gonna shake this crush step one is putting yourself out there. Which you do, and for the next few weeks you find yourself on dates almost every night. Tonight's date is going surprisingly well all things considered. He'd planned to take you somewhere that ended up being closed after a freak accident the other day that he didn't know about. It was around the corner from Josie's so you brought him here instead and the conversation has been well worth it- even in a place like this. The one downside is that it's Friday and Foggy and Karen usually drag Matt here for drinks on Friday. You had hoped they'd skip out on that tonight but you of course could only be so lucky. When the bell over the door rings and you turn to see Karen leading Matt into the bar with Foggy behind them you almost want to groan. Dating has been nice but seeing Karen and Matt so close is like picking a scab. You turn back to your date with a smile, intent on ignoring the trio, except of course it couldn't be that simple.

"Oh my gosh! Y/n! Hey!" Karen beams at you.

"Karen! Hi! Foggy, Matt, good to see you all." You smile.

"You didn't tell us you'd be here tonight." She says.

"Well I didn't plan on it otherwise of course I'd have let you know." You tell her. "James this is Karen and that's Foggy and Matt. They're friends of mine. They all work together we've- kind of crashed their spot tonight." You tell your date.

"Oh! Well, any friend of yours is a friend of mine. Nice to meet y'all." James shakes each of their hands. "Did you guys- wanna join us? Since it's pretty crowded in here you might not find another table."

"That's so nice of you James!" Karen says. Very nice indeed.

"I'll track down some chairs." Foggy says. You shift your seat closer to James to make room at the table since apparently they'll be joining you. You try not to pay too much attention to Matt's silence as everyone settles around the table.

"So y/n, you told James how we know you but you didn't mention how you know James. Are you guys work colleagues or something?"

"We have a mutual friend that set us up." James offers.

"Oh my gosh! We're crashing a date?! Why didn't you say so?" Karen shakes her head.

"No no no don't even worry about it, we've been here a couple of hours already. I invited you to sit with us so the night could go on." He says.

"Asking me, also would have worked." You smile.

"You guys are just the cutest." Karen sighs.

"I'm guessing this is a first date since- y/n's never mentioned you before." Matt says.

"It is. Not that I have to tell you about every guy I see." You say.

"You tell me everything." He scoffs.

"That's not true and even if it were that doesn't change the fact that I don't have to."

"So you keep things from me?"

"Am I missing something?" James chuckles.

"Matt and y/n have been friends since they were teenagers. They fight like they're siblings sometimes." Foggy explains.

"Sorry about that James. Matt's just-"

"Like a brother- I get it. I have siblings so I definitely know what it's like." He nods.

"Exactly." You smile.

"Like a brother." Matt quirks an eyebrow at you.

"As good a way as any to describe us." You nod. Matt hums and raises his glass to his lips without another word. The five of you sit and talk over drinks for another hour before you're ready to leave and James is happy to walk you out.

"I had a lot of fun tonight." He tells you.

"Even with the date crashers?" You ask with a goofy grimace.

"Heck yeah! Your friends are great." He laughs. "Next time I'll have my friends crash us. How about that?"

"Next time?"

"If you're willing. I'd really like to see you again."

"I- I'd like that." You nod.

"Cool. I'll- start coming up with second date ideas."

"Hopefully this time the place you pick doesn't impromptu have an incident." You laugh.

"I will quadruple check." He tells you. When you reach your block, but not your building, you stop and turn to him.

"Sounds good. I'll see you around James." You smile. He leans forward and kisses your cheek softly.

"Goodnight y/n." He says and walks away. You make it up to your apartment, kick off your shoes, and take a long shower. You enjoyed talking to James and you actually are interested in seeing him again for sure. Soon you're showered and pajamaed and pretty much ready for bed but before you can flop into it there's a knock at your door. Who could be knocking on your door right now? A quick check shows you it's Matt standing in your hallway.

"Matthew?" You open the door with a frown.

"What the hell are you doing?"

"Well- right now I'm wondering what you're doing in my apartment."

"Like a brother to you?! Seriously? Last time I checked most people don't make out with their brothers."

"Depends on where you are I suppose." You shrug. "But regardless Matt that was a mistake we both know that." You shake your head.

"A mistake? Is that how you feel about it?"

"How I- I'm sorry did you forget calling out Karen's name while I was kissing you?! Cuz I've been trying to so if you've got tips to share on how that'd be great."

"Goddammit y/n." He sighs dropping his head.

"Matt you really should go. I know you worry or whatever but- James is, nice and it's late I'd like to go to bed."

"Screw James." Matt scoffs.

"Um- it was only our first date- you're skipping a few steps."

"That is not what I- it's like you do this on purpose."

"What are you doing here Matt?" You sigh. 

"I don't like you dating him. I don't like you dating anyone for that matter. How could you kiss me like that and just... move on like nothing?"

"I dunno it's pretty easy when you call me the wrong name." You say.

"That was not what you think."

"I'm sure."

"It wasn't y/n. I'm serious. I could-" Matt stops and lets out a breath. "I'm Daredevil." He says.

"I know." You nod.

"What? You know?"

"You come in here at the witching hour every few days covered in bruises Matt how many explanations could there possibly be for that?" You roll your eyes.

"You never asked."

"I figured you'd tell me when you were ready." You shrug. "Why tell me now?"

"Since I can't see- my other senses make up for the loss. They're like- very developed. I heard Karen scream somewhere in Hell's Kitchen, she sounded like she was in trouble that's- that's why I called out her name. I thought maybe one of Daredevil's many enemies managed to connect her to me. It wouldn't be the first time, I'm always listening for her and Foggy these days and I just-"

"Well was she in danger?" You ask.

"Nightmare." He mutters. "But by the time I pieced that together you were gone."

"Of course I was. Having a man say someone else's name when you kiss him is not something that encourages-" Matt cuts off your snarky remark by cupping your face in his hands and kissing you. You react quickly, kissing him back, your hands wrapping around his wrists. By the time you pull away from him, you're breathing heavily.

"I'm in love with you. I have been for as long as I can remember. I'm sorry I wasn't clear about it." He says.

"Oh."

"Oh?"

"Well in my defense I've spent the last few weeks trying to get over you-" Matt kisses you again, hard, possessive, fiery.

"Don't." He says.

"Obviously." You grab the collar of his shirt and kiss him again. You spent years thinking you'd never get to kiss him, now that you know the truth you fully intend to take advantage and Matt has years of pining he wants to make up for.

***

[tmpestuous]

Moth to a Flame - 4

series masterlist

summary: Bucky Barnes was the love of your life, and you were his. There was no denying it. But after two years of dating, you found yourselves on different paths and decided it was best to go your separate ways. The only problem was how drawn you’d always be to him even after moving on.

pairing: College!Bucky x Reader

chapter warnings: alcohol, drinking, implied (stated) sex, bReAkUpS?, angst, fluff, i think that’s it

word count: ~5k!

a/n: an update finally… i sincerely apologize for the inactivity but life has been more than stressful lately. i have the course of this story planned so hopefully i can push out a few updates for you all over the course of december and hopefully finish it! thank you for your patience. 

“You should be with him,

I’ll let you go from time”

*

“You should give him another chance, you know,” Bucky said softly as he gazed out at the water before him. 

He had brought you out to the lake to calm your nerves after he found you crying on your bedroom floor, always knowing how to best comfort you. You two were seated on a bench, watching the moonlight illuminate the water through its reflection. 

“I’m surprised you’re saying that,” you joked as you looked over at him, your eyes tired from their overuse. “You said you wanted to fight him not even an hour ago.”

Bucky chuckled. “Listen,” he leaned forward on his knees. “It’s his first fuck up, and I know he cares about you. I know you care about him too. I reacted the wrong way when I saw you earlier today, I let my emotions get the best of me. But I still meant every word.”

You sighed. “I do care about him, it’s just…” you paused. “I expected more, you know? I’ve gone to all of his big moments since we’ve been together. I’ve been to his stupid frat parties when I didn’t want to go just because he wanted me to be there. I’ve done my part; I don’t know what I did wrong for him to not do his.”

“Hey,” Bucky turned his attention to you. “You have done nothing wrong. He was irresponsible and that is not on you.”

“So why exactly are you telling me I should give him another chance?” you asked, avoiding the topic of your self-blame. 

Bucky shook his head. “I dunno, I just don’t like seeing you sad. He’s a good guy, he made a mistake. I made lots of mistakes with you—”

“None that really hurt my feelings, though,” you cut him off. 

“I know,” he agreed hesitantly. “But they were mistakes nonetheless, and you never held a grudge too long with me.” You giggled, making Bucky furrow his eyebrows. “What’s so funny, Y/l/n?”

“I don’t think anyone can hold a grudge against you for too long, Barnes,” you said as you raked your fingers through his hair to push it away from his face. “You’re you.”

“So I’ve heard,” Bucky responded, his conversation with Atlas after the seminar creeping into his thoughts. “Still, what I said still stands. Just talk to him.”

You nodded. “Okay.”

T W O  W E E K S  L A T E R

Studying for an exam was indeed the bane of your existence, but studying for an exam you thought you weren’t prepared for was by far a lot worse.

Forcing yourself not to get swallowed up in your schoolwork was starting to get really difficult, and your exam for your 6:30pm class had you up at 7am this morning to study. 

The library was somehow even quieter in the early morning, the silence forcing you to play some music lowly through your headphones because it had started to make you uncomfortable. 

Around 11am, you had been studying for 3 hours with appropriate breaks during the time span. As you were about to take another one, you saw a familiar face that’d only make you feel better.

“I’d say you look like shit when you’re stressed, but I would very much be lying,” Bucky joked quietly as he sat across from you.

You and Bucky were… different.

It’s odd to say that your relationship with each other has changed drastically in the span of two weeks, but you both felt that it was a lot less hurtful to be around each other. You invited the warm feeling. 

After that night on the bench in front of the lake, you were a lot more open with each other. Cracking jokes about your previous relationship that would have left you crumbling in tears months prior. 

It felt nice to have your best friend back.

“This test is slowly going to kill me, but I desperately need to eat,” you said as you closed your textbook and finished up the notes you were writing on your iPad.

“We can grab lunch, if you want?” Bucky offered, “I don’t have much going on today before my only class at 2:00.”

Narrowing your eyes at him, you mentally questioned why he’d already be eager to leave the library if he had only just got here. “Did Nat put you up to this?”

Natasha had been on your heels revolving anything and everything in the last two weeks, not letting up on the Atlas situation either in the slightest.

“It’s not that serious, Nat, I promise,” you said. 

“It’s hate sex, Y/n. Not even me and Steve would do such a thing.”

You shook your head with a chuckle. “It’s not like it was planned, it just… happened.”

“With no conversation, not even a hint of him telling you why he didn’t show up to your presentation, and no sight of an authentic apology that doesn’t end with him in your pants. I mean, when did you all of a sudden decide to want him all up in your guts anyway?”

“Natasha Romanoff!” Natasha shut her mouth as soon as she went to retort. “He apologized. As a matter of fact, he won’t stop apologizing. I’d rather him put his energy into something else anyway.”

“Do you really think he’s sorry?”

“He’s just gonna have to show me over time. Bucky said it is his first fuck up,” you mentioned, not getting your conversation with Bucky out of your head.

“I cannot believe Bucky told you to give him another chance,” Natasha slid her jacket on. “That man is still in love with you.”

“Isn’t he seeing someone?”

“Aren’t you?” she rebutted.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

She winked before leaving your dorm without another word. 

Chuckling slightly, Bucky pulled on the straps of his bookbag.

“She told me to find you,” he admitted. “Make sure you aren't drowning in this test. What’s it on anyway?”

“Different theories pertaining to the mind. I’m pretty well versed on who said what and their reasoning, but some of them are a bit confusing and the professor helped a bit, but he’s a philosopher through and through.”

You closed the case to your tablet before shoving everything in your bag.

“So we’re getting lunch?” Bucky raised his eyebrows as you exhaustingly zipped your bag up.

“We’re getting lunch.”

The dining hall was a bit across campus from the library, so you were glad you had Bucky as company. Your newfound dynamic brought you a sense of comfort with him you hadn’t had with him in a while—steps in the right direction to avoid the tension that’s been looming all semester. 

Walking into the cafeteria, you and Bucky ordered and paid for your food before going into one of the booths, sitting across from each other. Bucky stared at you with a stifled laugh as you dug into your food, resulting in you glaring at him.

“Don’t laugh at me,” you said, mouth half-full.

“Don’t talk with food in your mouth or you’ll choke,” he teased and you rolled your eyes playfully. “How’re you and Atlas?”

“Just going straight to the important questions, are we?” You retorted after swallowing.

“I’m just checking in.”

Shaking your head, you shrugged. “We’re… okay, I guess. He still hasn’t really confessed anything about flaking, but I also haven’t really asked.”

Bucky nodded. “Are you going to?”

You shrugged again. You weren’t sure if you wanted to open the possibility of another argument with Atlas, especially since you hadn’t had one since him ditching you. He seemed remorseful, trying to make up for it with time, but the thought of not knowing always bothered you in the back of your mind.

“Enough about me,” you said abruptly. “How are you and Sharon?”

It was Bucky’s turn to shrug. If he was being honest, he didn’t know how he felt about Sharon. She was a nice girl, but he wasn’t entirely positive that she’s 100% into him and vice versa.

“We have good moments; I just don’t know where it’s going.”

As you were about to reply, Natasha and Steve crashed the booth without warning.

“If it isn’t my two favorite people after Steve,” Natasha said as she scooted in next to you, giving you a side hug. “I’m glad we found you here.”

“What trick do you have up your sleeve, Nat?” you asked, knowing your roommate and best friend a little too well.

“I’m sure you know this already,” she leaned into you before turning her attention back to everyone at the table. “Party tonight at the frat house on Fulton. 9:00 PM sharp. We need a break now that midterms are finishing.”

“Sounds fun,” Bucky agreed. “I’m in. Y/n?”

“I’m not sure I have a choice with the redhead next to me,” you said, making Natasha giggle. “I will be late though, I have my last midterm for this class today and I’m taking every single second I can get to perfect it.”

“We shall meet you there then,” Natasha said before you all continued finishing your lunch.

1 0 : 0 0  P M

To Bucky’s surprise, this party had gotten live faster than he expected. A 9PM party usually meant everyone started pregaming at 9, showing up at around 11-12. But the amount of bodies within this house had him wishing he’d shown up later. It wasn’t like he had much of an option, with Natasha rushing everyone out at 9 to head over. He said it’d be best to wait for you to get back so you can all go together, but Nat had assured him you told her it was fine to meet her there. 

On the bright side, Sam agreed to be the designated driver which meant he could actually drink for a change. He wasn’t a huge drinker, fancying his occasional whiskey, but he felt he hadn’t had a chance to let loose all semester. Bucky definitely wasn’t trying to get wasted, but he wanted the warmth of a few drinks that made him incapable of being trusted to drive.

Bucky couldn’t help but keep an eye out for your arrival, knowing how stressed you were about your test and even offering to study with you before and after his only class of the day. You had gotten a few texts from Atlas throughout, Bucky noting your frustration and overstimulation from everything and making you take a few breaks here and there, which you were grateful for.

Bucky knew Atlas was never going to be fully fond of him and his friendship with you, but he couldn’t really blame him. He knew he’d probably react the same way if he were in such a situation, but he also knew that he’d never purposely ruin your relationship. Atlas cared about you and you cared about him, which was enough to preserve in Bucky’s eyes.

You always caught a few longing glances from Bucky, but he was oblivious to it. You knew what was cycling through his head, as he did yours, but your current dynamic was going so well and neither of you wanted to go back to square one.

Bucky was on his fifth drink of the night when you walked in, begging him to make you the strongest drink possible without a greeting to precede it.

“How’d it go?” he asked you in your ear so you could hear him over the music, prepping his same drink for you, but with a bit more to take the edge off. 

“It was fine, I’m just glad it’s over,” you sighed as you took the cup out of his hand within seconds of him handing it to you, downing the entire drink before demanding another.

“Slow down,” he warned before making you a second one.

“I need to get drunk tonight, Bucky, so you can help me by making sure no one fucks me up or I will go elsewhere,” you warned back playfully, and he could see you meant no harm when he handed you a second, third, and fourth. Soon enough, you had already passed him in drinks and he saw as you looked giggly already.

Atlas had walked up to the both of you, making Bucky look on his phone to avoid the awkwardness. 

“I didn’t know you were here already,” Atlas pulled you into his arms, placing a chaste kiss on your lips. “Are you… drunk?”

You giggled in response. “I need another one,” you hiccuped before going back to Bucky, who was entertained with swiping aimlessly on his phone. “Barnes.” Bucky looked at you with furrowed eyebrows as you took his phone out of his hand, shoving it in your bag. “Get off your phone, we’re here to have fun.”

“Your boyfriend’s here, Y/n, go have fun with him.”

Shaking your head, you grabbed him by the shoulders. “We’re all here to have fun, c’mon!” You pulled him forward, Bucky and Atlas both trying to make sure you didn’t trip over your own feet. You ended up pulling Atlas into the mix as well, who was already more than uncomfortable. 

Dancing in between the both of them, Natasha was giggling in the corner, earning her a hard glare from Bucky. He knew he wasn’t gonna live this one down, but he slipped away from your view once all of your attention was on Atlas instead of partially on him. 

“That’s gonna be a messy conversation, huh?” Natasha asked as Bucky finished making his way over to her and Steve. 

“What are you talking about, Romanoff?”

“Atlas hasn’t had a drink all night and he looked like he’d rather crawl in a hole than dance with his girlfriend and her ex-boyfriend,” she watched as Atlas carried you upstairs, taking another sip of her drink. “Wonder how that’s gonna play out.” 

Atlas was dying to get out of the crowd, taking you upstairs to his room which you happily accepted, throwing yourself on his bed after he put you down to lock the door. Another giggling fit came out of you, and Atlas sat next to where your lying body was on the bed.

“What’s so funny, Y/n?”

He didn’t sound too thrilled, having the notion that drunk actions were sober thoughts in the back of his mind. When you got here, you made your way to Bucky. Not him. That on top of the most awkward situation he’d been in with Bucky since he started dating you, he was starting to lose his patience a bit, but he knew he couldn’t bring it up while you were drunk. 

“You’re funny,” you said with more giggles to follow. “You’re maaaad.” You sat up, a bit too quickly which Atlas noticed, holding you stable by the shoulders so you wouldn’t get dizzy and throw up. You stared at him and bopped his nose with your index finger, giggling again. “Don’t be mad, Atlas.”

“I’m not mad, Y/n,” he responded in a shy yet stern tone. “You should probably go to bed.”

“Mm, no,” you said with a quick head shake, wrapping your arms around his neck as he wrapped his around your torso. “I’m not tired.”

“You’re drunk,” he said, laying back as you fell on top of him. “Let’s go to bed, okay? We’ll talk in the morning.”

“I don’t want to sleep,” you pushed up off of him, straddling his lap. “And I don’t want to talk. There’s nothing to talk about.”

Atlas scoffed. “There’s a lot to talk about, Y/n.”

“Like what?”

“We’re not doing this right now, you’re drunk,” he said as he removed you off of his lap gently, placing you back on the bed. “Let’s just go to sleep.”

You shook your head, suddenly starting to feel your buzz get killed. “No, what is it that you want to talk about so bad?”

“I’m not doing this right now, okay?” he said, pulling one of his shirts for you to change into. 

Rolling your eyes, you reluctantly got changed, getting into bed as he slid in behind you, knowing the following morning was going to be irritating. 

And that it was.

Waking up slightly late, you were surprised you weren’t sporting a raging migraine from the previous night’s endeavors. Atlas was no longer in bed and the bass from the speakers downstairs blasting music long gone. You checked your phone, seeing a few texts from your friends who you left without a goodbye.

Bucky <3

Hey, everything all good? 

We’re heading out in a bit. Not sure if you drove here or not if you want a ride back

I would assume your phone’s dead but all the messages are delivering

Nvm all good. Atlas just told us you went to bed. See you tomorrow loser

Future Russian Spy (Nat)

Where is your drunk ass at

Hoping you’re not getting laid again

Sleep is for the weak but I’m glad you’re resting. Let me know if you need a ride back tomorrow when u see this

You had driven to Atlas’s place, but given the fatigue you had, you texted Nat back asking for a ride. After doing so, you got out of bed, deciding it was best to take a hot shower and at least make yourself look human for the day. Atlas came back into the room after you were dressed and brushing your teeth with the spare toothbrush you’d left here the last time you slept over. 

“I made breakfast,” he said, standing in the bathroom doorway.

“Not hungry,” you said, rinsing your mouth with water. “But thanks.”

You were pretty intoxicated last night, but definitely not blackout drunk to forget the impending comments from your boyfriend about whatever was bothering him. Not to mention, the last thing you were looking for was an argument at 11 in the morning after you just woke up.

“Can you please not be difficult right now?”

Stopping in your tracks as you were about to grab your jacket, you turned to face him. “And what exactly is that supposed to mean?”

Atlas sighed. “I’m not arguing with you, Y/n.”

“I never said you were,” you rebutted. “You wanted to talk, so let’s talk.”

“Do you seriously not see that nothing is getting better between us? You were throwing yourself at Bucky right in front of me last night, and he has a girlfriend. You don’t even seem regretful.”

Scoffing, you rubbed your hands down your face. “I’m not repeating myself for the thousandth time to you, Atlas. You know how I feel about Bucky, and he and Sharon aren’t even dating.”

“You still love him.”

“I will always love him, that’s what you don’t get!” You yelled in frustration before exhaling deeply. “Bucky and I didn’t end on bad terms. We didn’t end because he cheated on me or I ruined his life. I will always have love for him, regardless of whether you think it’s platonic or romantic. I can’t just change that.”

“Well, you need to,” he replied flatly.

You chuckled. “You’re giving me an ultimatum?”

“Me or him, Y/n. I can’t play second-fiddle to Bucky Barnes anymore. It’s me in your life or him.”

“You can’t sit here and give me ultimatums like I’m constantly the one that’s doing you wrong.”

Atlas crossed his arms across his shoulders. “I knew this was going to come up eventually. You’re still mad at me.”

“I have never been mad, Atlas. I just wanted an answer. And that was so fucking difficult for you to give me.”

“Maybe you should ask your little ex-boyfriend what happened that day.”

“It’s always about Bucky with you,” you dejected. “I’m starting to think you’re the one that’s in love with him.”

“I’m serious, Y/n.”

Throwing your hands around in frustration, “What could Bucky possibly know abou–”

“He’s the one that told me to leave!” he interrupted you. When you simply stared at him without words, he continued. “I showed up. Bucky told me to leave. I fucked up the night before, I get that, but I was there. I made it after you walked in and Bucky told me to up and leave because I couldn’t support you in the state I was in. So if you need someone to be upset about, maybe start with him.”

Staring at him in disbelief, you scoffed again, shoving your jacket on your shoulders, checking your phone to see Natasha text you that she’s outside. “I’ll talk to you later, Atlas.”

“When you come back here, I want an answer.”

“Yeah, whatever,” you said, starting your day off with an immeasurable amount of frustration, which Natasha could feel radiating off of you as you got in the car angrily.

“I’m going to ignore the fact that you slammed my door and ask what happened.”

Sighing to yourself to calm down, you leaned back in the car seat. “I don’t want to talk about it.”

Fiddling with your fingers, Natasha was talking your head off but you could not hear her one bit. You know Bucky was mad about Atlas not showing up, but it wouldn’t make sense for him to sabotage you like that. Was he telling you to give Atlas another shot because he felt guilty? Did he not want to be the reason things fell out? 

No, that wasn’t Bucky. He would never do such a thing. 

Sighing to yourself, Natasha snapped you out of your thoughts in the middle of the diner you were seated at having breakfast food at 1pm. 

“Are you even listening? What’s got you so distant since I picked you up?”

“Are we seeing Bucky at any point today?” you avoided her question.

“I told you he’s meeting us here with Steve. What’s going on?”

Knowing how Natasha feels about Atlas, you decided to wait until Bucky made it before jumping to any conclusions, assuring her that it was no big deal. It’d be better to hear it straight from Bucky than being mad at anyone over anything yet, and you knew Bucky would tell you the truth.

At least that’s what you’d hoped.

Almost as if on cue, Bucky and Steve walked into the diner, looking around before Bucky spotted you with a smile, tapping Steve to draw his attention in the same direction. You half-smiled back, but Bucky knew something was off. As the boys made their way over, Bucky sat next to you in the booth, looking over at you with concern.

“What’s wrong?” he asked, making you shake your head.

“We didn’t order for you guys not knowing what you guys wanted,” you said as you slid both of them the menu, leaving Bucky confused while Steve was excited. 

“Bucky and I have been thinking about bacon since we left the dorm,” Steve chatted looking at both you and his best friend, which you returned, but Bucky couldn’t take his eyes off of you. “Buck?”

“What’s wrong, Y/n?” Bucky asked you again, Steve diverting his attention towards you. 

“That’s what I’ve been trying to figure out for the past two hours,” Natasha interjected, and everyone at the table was now staring at you.

You sighed, looking down at your hands in your lap, biting down on your bottom lip. “I don’t know.”

“Did that asshole do something again?” Natasha asked, clearly starting to get riled up. “I swear to G—”

“Nat,” Bucky cut her off sternly, giving her a glare. He knew you were nervous about something and anyone getting angry would just make it worse. 

He always knew how to read you.

“Did something happen after we left? This morning?” he asked softly while Steve ordered for himself and Bucky.

“He told me it was you, Buck,” you responded hesitantly, causing Bucky to shake his head in confusion. “The presentation. Him not showing up. He said you told him to leave when he got there. Before you walked in?”

Shaking his head again, Bucky was now annoyed. “Bullshit.”

“Bullshit?”

“He showed up during Banner’s slot, Y/n. Yeah, I told him to leave, and if that was wrong on my part, I’m sorry, but I would never force him to leave if he actually showed up on time.”

“That and he smelled like a bad liquor store,” Steve added.

“He was only going to make things worse. I’m sorry for telling him he should leave but—”

“No.”

“No?” Bucky questioned your interruption, not quite catching on.

“You’re not apologizing. You did what you thought was best, and he lied to me about it again anyway.”

Feeling defeated, you urged everyone to move on. Bucky felt bad that you had to find out in such a way, and the urge he got to beat Atlas’s ass was even stronger than it was the day everything happened. 

After you all ate, you went back to the dorm and relaxed for a bit before asking Natasha to give you a ride to get your car at Atlas’s house. The gang all asked to meet up at Bucky, Steve, and Sam’s dorm for drinks and games, so you told Natasha you’d meet her there.

“You sure you’re gonna be okay?” she asked for the second time that night.

“Yeah, I’m just gonna get my car and go,” you unbuckle your seatbelt and open the door. “I’ll see you at the boys’ place, okay?”

Nat nodded before watching you walk towards your car and driving off. Unlocking the vehicle, you saw Atlas rushing out of the front door from your peripherals.

“You weren’t even gonna come inside?” he said as he walked up next to you.

“Don’t think picking up my car requires me to go inside, does it?” you retorted with an attitude, not really wanting to talk.

“You know why I’m asking.”

“Well, I wouldn’t think it’d matter considering Bucky has no involvement in the reason why I’m breaking up with you, Atlas.”

Stunned, Atlas stared at you incredulously. 

“Cat got your tongue? Or are you coming up with some other lie you think I won’t find out about?”

“Y/n—”

“Save it. We’re done. If you think I’m choosing Bucky over you, then maybe I am,” you cut him off, tears filling up your eyes. “Now that I think of it, I’d choose him over you every single time, Atlas. He’s never lied to me, never treated me like I was less than him, and he sure as hell would never make me pick between him and someone else that he knows I care about. I’m over it, I can’t do this anymore. We’re done.”

Getting inside of your car, Atlas decided not to say a word as he watched you pull out of his driveway and drive off. He definitely had other ideas in mind.

Meanwhile, you were trying to gain your composure as you made it back to campus and to the boys’ dorm. You managed to get yourself to stop crying but given the amount of it you just did, you knew it was evident on your face.

Even though it might be the worst option at this given moment, you wanted nothing but to jump into Bucky’s arms. You wanted his hugs back, you wanted to feel his warmth again.

You wanted him back. You knew it was dumb to even think of, but you couldn’t help it. All of your emotions were crashing down on you and you finally knew why everything was weighing so heavy on your shoulders for the past few months.

You never wanted to move on. It was foolish to even think of doing, let alone actually doing it. Bucky was always going to be it for you. It’s him. It’s always going to be him. 

But much to your demise after opening the door to the boys’ dorm, you walked in to see everyone in the living room.

Including Sharon.

Everyone looked up at you, seeing your face and immediately asking what happened.

Again, including Sharon.

“Um– sorry, I didn’t want to be a buzzkill or anything, I just—”

“You’re not,” Sharon spoke up again, and you couldn’t help but notice her hand on Bucky’s thigh while she spoke. “We weren’t talking about much, just some updates on everyone. Right?”

Everyone agreed.

“Updates?”

“Yes, like Barnes here making it official with Sharon,” Thor added eagerly.

You looked back at Bucky, who suddenly looked like he wanted to throw up.

“Are you okay?” he asked, not wanting to talk about the bombshell news that just got dropped on you.

“Yeah, I-I’m fine,” you shook your head. “Don’t worry, I just got into a heated argument with my mom is all. Um, I actually forgot something in my room that I should grab so I’ll be back.”

Natasha knew your excuse for leaving was full of shit the second you walked back out the door, telling everyone she was going to check on you. She walked downstairs to see you sobbing to yourself in your car, thankful you didn’t drive off yet.

Opening the passenger door and getting inside, Natasha pulled you into her embrace.

“I know it wasn’t some argument with your mom that got you like this, so what happened with Atlas?” Natasha asked right away, knowing you weren’t calming down anytime soon unless she knew how to help.

“I broke up with him.”

Well, she wasn’t expecting to hear that. 

“Oh,” she said, rubbing your back up and down. “I’m sorry—”

“For Bucky.”

Or that. She definitely wasn’t expecting to hear that.

“Oh.”

“I’m such an idiot, Nat,” you sobbed into her shoulders. “I just broke up with him and now Bucky’s with Sharon and I can’t tell him that I broke up with Atlas because he’s gonna ask why and I—”

“Hey, hey,” she lifted your face in her hands to look at her while you cried. “We’re gonna figure it out, alright? You’re gonna be fine.”

You nodded, even if you weren’t fully convinced. But little did you know, everything was about to bite you in the ass.

[lastbluetardis]

🎵 i just think we, as a society, need more taylor swift-inspired tenrose fics & james x rose AUs 🤍💫 (sorry i’m late btw)

I agree this fandom needs way more TSwift-inspired Ten/Rose AUs 😂

Song: Ivy

AU Idea: Another somewhat angsty song and idea, also with themes of infidelity due to the nature of the song.

This would make for another good ye olde time piece where James and Rose are each in an arranged marriage/betrothal to other people, but neither of them particularly ever wanted to get married, and they especially didn't want to be forced into a marriage. Both their marriages/betrothals are loveless and as a result, they're each miserable and depressed and want to burn the world down.

James is taking his betrothed out on the town, chaperoned of course 'cos God forbid anything untoward happen if he and his fiancée are left alone, even though everyone is aware of how much James hates being engaged. Perhaps Rose is a barmaid or something at the little pub James and his partner are at, and while she isn't his server directly, they keep locking eyes from across the room. James had never seen anyone so beautiful, and he's enchanted by her easy smiles and bright eyes whenever she interacts with a customer. Rose, meanwhile, thinks he's gorgeous and it's the first time she ever considered wanting to corner a stranger in a dark hall and kiss him silly.

Rose's shift ends before James and his fiancee finish their meal, and James sees her leaving and panics, because even though it's stupid and irresponsible, he wants to know her name and wants to see her again. He pretends he needs the toilets, and he follows her out the back door of the pub.

"Excuse me!"

She turns, and a delighted smile crosses her face to see the man she's been lusting over for the past hour. She smooths her hair back, and James's stomach sinks to see the wedding band on her finger. He nearly stutters out an apology, because surely she's a better person than him and doesn't despise her husband, but Rose saw the way he went a little dumbstruck at the sight of her ring, and she grimaces. He's confused, so he oh so loquaciously asks, "Er... married?"

She sighs. "Unfortunately. Earlier this year. Never met him 'til my wedding day."

Part of him aches that someone as seemingly lovely as her seems so unhappy, yet another part of him rejoices that he's not the only terrible person that hates their soon-to-be spouse.

"Yeah, I know what that's like."

"Oh? Miss blonde in there...?"

"Arranged. Parents need me to "carry on the bloodline"."

Rose giggles a little, and she holds out her hand. "I'm Rose."

"James." He shakes it, and it's like electricity shocks through him, stealing his breath and making his heart stutter deliciously in his stomach. "Say... I know this is odd and improper... but d'you... d'you maybe want to... take a walk with me sometime?"

Rose considers, and he's almost certain she's going to decline, but then she nods and says, "I take morning walks through the farm fields. I like watchin' the cows. I start my route on Henrick's street. Maybe I'll see you there?"

And she walks away, leaving him feeling giddy but so, so wretched.

And so a routine is borne. James and Rose regularly take morning walks together. Not every day, and not the same routes, because they're trying to avoid being noticed. It takes all of a week for James to tentatively reach for her hand while they stroll, and another week before he braves kissing said hand. They're each sick with guilt that they're essentially courting each other while they're promised to someone else.

But they can't seem to stop.

After the first month, they share their first kiss.

After the second, they make love in the shadow of an unoccupied barn.

That's their new routine. Walking and kissing and making love. But one day they're caught by the farmer whose barn they regularly commandeer, and word gets back to Rose's husband. He beats her to within an inch of her life.

James only finds out through whispers going 'round the town that Rose cuckolded her husband, and that she deserved the punishment she got, and that really, it could have been a lot worse.

He runs to her house to check on her, but she dismisses him and slams the door in his face when she sees him. It wasn't quick enough, because James hears a man shouting down the hall, asking who it was, and soon this hulking mass of a man is on the porch and takes a swing at James. The two of them skirmish, exchanging blows, with Rose pleading for them to stop. But all James sees in the swollen, bruised mess of her face and the arm she's got cradled in a sling. James punches her husband right in the nose, knocking him out.

James holds out his hand for Rose. "Run away with me?"

"Run away? Where are we going to go?"

"Does it matter? Anywhere is better than here. I know this is mad, but I'm in love with you, and I can't bear the thought of you staying in this house a moment longer. I can't bear the thought of not being with you, of not falling asleep and waking up beside you. Sod the rules and sod the expectations, and especially sod this horrible brute of a man you call a husband."

Rose wavers for a few seconds, eyes filled with tears, but she nods. She wiggles her wedding band off of her finger and slips it onto her husband's pinkie.

James almost collapses with relief, but he takes her hand and ushers her away into the morning. James has a bit of money saved up, so he sneaks into his house and grabs it all, leaving behind all of his material valuables. After all, he's got Rose. What else could he possibly need?

Send me a 🎵 and I’ll shuffle my Taylor Swift playlist

[heyitsme1040]

A Call Away [p.p]

summary : You were used to the odd hours Peter was awake. He’d always told you that you could call him whenever, no matter what. That if he didn’t answer then he’d call back within five minutes. You’d never taken up his offer because you didn’t want to distract him while he was out being Spider-Man. But tonight you couldn’t sleep and you missed your boyfriend. 

pairings : TASM!Peter Parker x Reader

warnings : None (if I missed anything let me know!)

word count : 940

AO3 (x)

a/n : Day fourteen of Comfortember is here! The prompt was ‘late night phone calls’. 

You rolled over in bed once again, trying to find a position comfortable enough to sleep. Waiting a few minutes while trying to relax, you gave up and groaned. You tried everything to finally sleep, but nothing was working. You looked at the alarm clock near you and were frustrated by seeing the red light blinking. It was three in the morning. With a tired sigh, you laid on your back and let your mind wander. 

You thought about Peter, and the city. The way he cares so much about the people living here. How much responsibility he gives himself to look after people. He’d been a super hero since he was fifteen. Looking after those in need of help. Keeping up with school on top of that was something you didn’t think you would’ve been able to do. You thought about Peter out in the city, helping people no matter what. The way he always promised you’d be able to reach him, and that he wanted you to feel like you could call him always. He insisted you promise you would call him no matter what, even if he was out patrolling. You rolled onto your side again, seeing the clock blinking it was only ten minutes since you last looked. You groaned again, wishing you could just fall asleep. You thought about Peter’s insistence for you to call him. If he was busy, you could just leave a quick voice mail telling him he didn’t need to call back. He’d promised if he missed your call he’d return it within minutes, but you didn’t want him to feel like he needed to be somewhere else. The city needed him. 

Settled on your plan, you grabbed your phone from the side table. You scrolled to Peter’s contact and pressed call, holding the phone up to your ear. You felt nervous, almost pressing ‘end call’ between the third and fourth ring when Peter finally picks up. 

“Hello?” Peter half yells into the phone over the sound of wind. “Can you hear me?”

“Hey Pete,” you softly talk into the phone, “I can hear you.”

“Is everything okay? Do you need me?”

You smile at how he checks in immediately, “I’m fine. Sorry I called, I just couldn’t sleep. And was thinking about how you said I could call you.”

“Don’t apologize, I’m glad you called me. I wish you would’ve called me sooner.” You hear the sound of rushing wind quiet down. Peter’s no longer yelling over the sound of it, just talking breathlessly into the call. 

“I just don’t want to interrupt you when you’re patrolling.”

“You could never interrupt,” you hear Peter’s smile in his tone. “The city’s quiet tonight anyways, I could swing to your apartment if you want? It’s close to four anyways, I can end patrol early.”

“No, don’t end early because of me. What if something happens?”

You hear the sigh that escapes Peter because of your worries, “Baby…”

“I’m serious! I don’t want to be the reason somebody needs your help and you don’t know it.”

“But you need my help,” Peter nearly pleads. “Just let me swing by, please?”

“You can once you’re done with patrol,” you yawn out. 

“Fine,” Peter grumbles. 

You imagine what Peter might be doing. He’s probably sat on a roof, looking out over the city. You can imagine him with his mask off, not feeling it necessary with how high of a roof he would’ve chosen. You put the phone on speaker and set it next to your face.

“What roof did you choose?” You tiredly ask. 

Peter’s quiet laugh comes through the speaker, “The Empire State Building.”

“That sounds terrifying. Roof or spire?”

“I’m sitting on the spire this time.”

“That’s so much worse,” you whine. “Why do you have to choose somewhere that high up?”

“It’s peaceful up here. Too high for the noise of the city to reach. I don’t have to worry about having my mask on up here. I can just sit and look without feeling worried about anything else.”

“That does sound nice.”

Listening to Peter talk is calming. Your mind slows to focus on his words, allowing the rest of you to relax as well. 

“How was your patrol going before I called?” You try to keep him talking. 

You hear Peter take a deep breath, “Overall it was good. Like I said, the city’s quiet tonight. I helped an older man with an ATM earlier. He was nice. There was a kid running down an alley from some other kids, so I scared them off. Nothing too bad, of course, just lowered myself behind the boy that was running from them upside down. Other than that, I’ve just been swinging around and hanging out on roofs.”

“That’s good,” you mumble. 

“Yeah? Why’s that?” Peter’s laugh makes you smile. 

“Means you’re safe. I like when you’re safe.”

“I like when you’re safe, too.”

You hum, chest feeling full with affection. 

“It’s almost four,” Peter whispers. “Do you want to stay on the phone while I swing to your apartment? Or do you want me to hang up?”

“Stay,” you exhale. “Window ’s unlocked.”

“Alright, baby. I’ll be there in ten minutes.” 

You mumble something back, but you aren’t sure what you’re trying to say. The pull of sleep has a tight hold on you. You’re somewhat aware of Peter’s breathing among the sound of air whizzing past him. As you’re finally being tugged fully under the promise of sleep, you feel Peter’s cold hand against your cheek. 

“Sweet dreams,” he whispers against your skin, kissing your forehead. 

Author’s Note : Reblogs are appreciated, likes are welcome, and if you want to read more of my fics then maybe follow.

©heyitsme1040 If you find this post on any platform under a username different than heyitsme1040 it is not their work.

[sunshinediaz]

fuck it friday 🫧

i don't have anything to put the fuck in fuck it friday (which, nuts, but i'm so stoked because i'm writing stuff that's not porn for once) but i do have eddie and chim being silly goofy brothers so!!! enjoy!!!

Chim makes a noise and grabs a ten pound bag of gummy bears instead. “What makes you think it’s a good idea?”  Eddie shrugs, wondering if keeping the gummy bears and having a handful at the station when he wakes up from a nap is worth receiving Bobby’s patented disappointed look. “Maybe it’s not a good idea, but I have to do something,” he replies, deciding that, yes, the gummy bear are so worth it. “She’s mean to me, Chim.”  “You sound like Jee.”  Eddie flaps his hand at Chim and turns the corner into another aisle. “You’re so funny, man.” He picks through the several different kinds of flour, searching for the kind Bobby’s particular about. “She singles me out and makes me look bad in front of my neighbors. I haven’t even met any of them.” “Maybe they’re scared of you. Have you thought of that? You keep odd hours, your truck is big, and you listen to country music. ”   “I listen to good country music, you jackass.”  And he does. He’ll be damned if anybody associates him with Jason Aldean—fuck that dude, fuck his little buddies, and fuck all they stand for. Every single one of them. In the words of Kris Kristofferson, a legend—people like Toby Keith and his alt-right patriotism have done to country music what pantyhose did to fingerfucking.  (Oh, God. Is that Eddie’s Roman Empire? Chris is going to have a heyday.)  “Semantics.”  “I’ll show—” he starts, stops, takes a deep breath to calm down. “The next time you walk in front of this cart, I’m fucking up your heels.” He crosses his chest.  “See? That’s what I’m talking about. You’re weird.”  Eddie swerves the cart toward Chim, loud and rickety. “Swear on my life, Chim.” Chim dances out of the way. “You should probably swear on something else, pal,” he says, laughing loudly when Eddie veers the cart his way again. They make a commotion, gathering the attention of a few others down the aisle, and sheepishly apologize. “Have you talked with Buck about it?”  “No,” Eddie replies, sighing. He grabs a few canisters of unsweetened cocoa, adding it on top of Chim’s addition of sugar free pudding. “It kinda slipped my mind.” 

i was tagged by @callaplums, @honestlydarkprincess, @hippolotamus, @jesuisici33, @try-set-me-on-fire, @exhuastedpigeon, @wikiangela, @eddiebabygirldiaz, @callmenewbie, @alliaskisthepossibilityoflove, @giddyupbuck, @thewolvesof1998, and @daffi-990 mwah 🫶🏼

it's late so i'm only tagging @eddiediaztho because i sent britt a lil bit of this scene last night and she was excited for it, which wow, and i need her to see it so she can gush praise at me BUT PLEASE everybody consider yourself tagged by me i'm so fuckin serious mwah