#but he found someone he might fall for and i gotta pretend to be happy for him. i want to be happy for him. but i cant. so i gotta fake it

[genekies]

[moon-tells-stories]

Heart Problems~

Connor Stoll x gn reader

Connor is completely in love with you, too bad you’re trying to set him up with someone else.

Part 2 Dear Diary, I’m an idiot

~~

Connor knew he had a problem.

He liked to consider himself a pretty self aware person: he knew he was a liar, he knew he could be a bit of an asshole, he knew he would sometimes come off as a bit cold, he knew he was too vindictive, he knew not everyone liked his pranks and now…. he knew he absolutely and completely had a problem.

The problem in question?

He was in love with his best friend.

Now, someone might say “ok, Connor, big deal, everyone gets crushes sometimes”.

But this wasn’t just a simple crush.

People with a crush don’t feel their hearts implode in their chests when they see the person they like smile.

People with a crush absolutely do not feel every single cell in their body beg to see the person they like every time they’re not there.

People with a crush would feel naturally rejected and maybe a bit sad if the person they liked did not return their feelings.

But as much as it would have probably killed him from inside out, Connor just wanted you to be happy, even if it wasn’t with him.

He couldn’t risk confessing to you and ruin your friendship. It was too important, you were too important.

The price just wasn’t worth the risk, he was happy just being your friend, being close to you was enough, seeing you smile at him even if it was platonic was enough, laughing and joking around with you was enough.

(He felt like smashing his head against a wall repeatedly when he remembered that you would never know how much he truly loved you but he pushed the thought down)

After all if there was one thing Connor Stoll was truly good at that was lying.

~~

The light cascading between the leaves of the tree the two of you were laying against would sometimes fall into your eyes and Connor would feel his heart beat out of his chest.

You were talking about the recent book you had read.

You had always loved reading, your dyslexia made it a bit difficult but when you arrived at camp Chiron taught you how to turn your books into ancient greek texts which helped a lot.

Connor had never really been a fan of reading, partly because of his dyslexia, that every demigod had, but also because he simply found it- boring. He didn’t like staying put and reading required staying still and concentrating, both things he wasn’t very good at.

However he liked listening to you ramble on and on about your favourite books, you could talk about them for hours on end and he would listen to your voice on repeat forever if he could.

(Gods, he was so smitten it was honestly pathetic)

But seeing you so exited about sharing your favourite story with him, he realised that he absolutely did not care about how probably pathetic he was.

“And then! the villain turns out to be….” you trail off for a bit of suspence and he smiles softly.

(he definitely looks like an absolute fool)

“His brother!” you say exited, turning to the book and holding up the page where the protagonist gets betrayed.

Connor smiles surprised “no way, that’s gotta sting-” he says while reading the page you were gesturing to.

(he doesn’t think about how that sound so painfully familiar)

“I know!” you say a mix between excited and frustrated “he was my favourite character too” you groan and Connor laughs “ouch- why do your favourite characters always either die or turn out to be the villain?” he jokes, remembering how in the book you told him about last month, your favourite character sacrificed herself and died.

You throw your head back “i must be cursed- it’s not fair!” you laugh.

(connor wants to record the sound and listen to it forever-)

He grimaces internally at that thought, that wasn’t creepy, right???

He takes your book in his hands, trying to play it cool, trying to pretend that his heart did not flutter at the sound of your laugh “sure, buttercup, i’m sure a god decided to curse every single character you like” he teases you.

You laugh (his heart did not skip a beat- liar) and playfully punch his shoulder at the nickname.

Some voices come from the archery pitch nearby, a few kids of the Apollo cabin joke and laugh loudly among themselves, you glance at them before turning to him with a small smile.

(he pretends not to notice that the smile is not entirely genuine)

“Did you meet the new Apollo kid?” you ask him with a sort of teasing smile that he does not comprehend.

“You mean Remy?” he asks slightly confused, as the counsellor of the Hermes cabin he met lots of new campers that came and went, Remy had arrived last week, they stayed in cabin 11 for two days before getting claimed by Apollo, he wasn’t sure why you were suddenly bringing them up.

“Yeah” you nod, the weird teasing smile still on you lips, “aren’t they cute?” you ask playfully.

Connor is really really not sure what he should answer, it’s not that he doesn’t agree because objectively speaking Remy was indeed attractive, he just never really thought about it and all of this seemed extremely random.

“I guess” is best he comes up with, you laugh slightly “you guess?” you ask between laughs “what kind of answer is that?”.

Connor rolls his eyes and pushes your shoulder playfully “shut up, i just don’t understand this sudden interest in Remy” he tells you.

You shrug, smirking at him (his stupid heart should just explode with how many time it flutters or skips a beat).

You nudge him with your elbow playfully “a little birdie told me that Remy has a crush on you” you wink.

oh.

ohh.

For a second his brain malfunctions… were you- were you trying to set him up with someone?!??!

The worst thing about all of this is that- you look so casual about it. It shouldn’t hurt this much, he knows you don’t feel the same, this isn’t a surprise, he already knew- he already made peace with this fact.

(or at least he should have already made peace with this fact)

Connor swallows his hurt and tries not to think about the way he feels as if a knife had been thrown straight into his heart.

“Really?” he tells you as absentmindedly as he can.

Thankfully he’s a good liar and you don’t notice, you nod happily “yess, and if you want- you can meet them after the campfire near the Apollo cabin” you say smugly.

(the imaginary knife twists painfully in his chest)

Connor would really like to give you a big genuine smile, just make you happy since you seem so exited about this, however the best thing he can muster is a small smile and “i’ll think about it.”

The conversation ends there, you go back to reading your book with a satisfied smile and Connor goes back to dying internally.

He shouldn’t feel this dejected, but he really can’t help it, he’s not sure what’s worst about this story.

The irony that Remy asked the person he’s in love with to set them up together, or the fact that you actually accepted and tried.

He’s not angry at Remy, the new demigod has no fault, and Connor doesn’t blame them or resent them for shooting their shot with him.

(they’ve got way more courage than him, he’s such a coward)

The wind blows softly in his curls and as he looks at you, his heart flutters once more.

The knife twists deeper and Connor curses himself and his stupid stupid heart, Aphrodite, Eros and every other love deity he knows.

But as you smile to yourself while reading a particularly interesting passage in your book he decides that this pain is not so bad.

~~

[allmightluver]

Toshinori and Emotions

I’ve always had a head cannon that Toshinori is a very emotional person. Like when he was a kid he would sob at the drop of a hat just like Izuku. Telling him a sad story or seeing a puppy/kitten would make him tear up and sniffle.

When he met Nana she found it cute, but would gently try to get him to control his emotions better, “Nobody’s going to want to be saved by someone who’s snot-nosed crying! Instead, try to smile, show them there’s nothing to be scared about!” Gran Torino was much harsher, demeaning him whenever he let the control over his emotions slip. He was trying, but he was still young. When Nana died, Toshinori found it even more difficult not to break down at things that reminded him of her throughout the day. 

Gran Torino used him as his own personal punching bag, beating the feelings right out of him. It was easier that way, to hurt physically than emotionally. When Grant Torino sent him to America, he made a promise to himself, that no matter how terrible things got, no matter what horrors he’d see, he wouldn’t cry. The people deserved someone who could be positive, a Symbol that there was still hope. He learned to stuff his emotions down, only showing the bright smile that made everyone feel safe, and hiding everything else.

He had almost perfected it, always smiling, always positive, the kind of guy everyone wants to be around, until he met Izuku. The snot nose kid reminded him of himself at that age, and those emotions that he held so strongly below the surface started trying to make their appearance again. Perhaps out of fear, and as he was taught, Toshinori tried to reason with Izuku to hide his tears, man up, like he had to. “Seriously! You gotta stop crying so much if you want my quirk! Come on, kid.” It’s too dangerous to feel. If you have to, keep it inside. Don’t let anyone see that you’re not as perfect as you pretend to be.

But Toshinori found the control over his emotions slipping. His entire life was changing and he could nothing to stop it. He couldn’t save anyone anymore, more of a burden than a hero now. The constant ache of being helpless, along with the pain ever steady in his side grew more and more overwhelming.

Kamino hit. Everything he knew was over. He couldn’t find it in himself to even smile. What was the point anymore. No one would find his corpse-like face comforting. But when he saw his boy running to him, he was filled with a joy that, maybe he was doing something right. Izuku was still alive, he didn’t engage in a fight with AFO like he feared. Telling the boy that he was proud of him words he missed from Nana, and wished he could have heard from Gran Torino he could feel his voice wavering, embracing his boy the best he could with his broken body. And when Izuku clings back, like he had feared he may never have gotten see his mentor alive again, it painfully reminded Toshinori of the day he lost his own. Emotions overflowing, and frustrated with himself, he allowed his tears to fall. 

“What’d I say about keeping your word, you little crybaby?

I thought we agreed that you’d stop it with the waterworks.”

I always felt Toshinori was very numb, emotionally dull, especially in his Small Might form. He’s been drained, granted, but more than that, he’s put up a front for so many years, that it’s most likely a bit of relief to not have to constantly outwardly appear happy handsome, as he may believe. But I believe the years from constantly smiling has imprinted on him to the point he constantly bears his teeth. Though with his excessive weight loss, the grin that used to bring joy to millions, now looks like painfilled grimace. And perhaps that’s fitting.

Besides showing an occasional grin or that silly side that everyone loved All Might for, he’s very emotionless now. I believe he’s emotionally detached, allowing himself not to be happy 24/7, but still keeping himself from outwardly expressing his negative feelings. Nobody wants to see how messed up, how damaged you are.

Doesn’t help that now his own body is forcing him to remain in a calm state. In one of the only instances we see All Might actually excited about something, his body appears unable to take the emotional strain.

And he’s forced to go back to a calmer state.

Again here he only transforms into his muscle form, only flexing his muscles, and again his body resists it.

And you can practically see the self-hate in his expression at his body’s weakness.

In the few instances he’s actually allowed himself to cry, it’s been brief, as if he’s still holding back, resisting the emotion as much as he physically can. Once the floodgates open, I fear they may never stop.

How did that phrase go...?

Conceal.

Don’t feel.

Don’t let them know.

[artzee-bee]

Best friend’s ex | Benny Weir x reader

Fandom: My babysitter’s a vampire

Request: “ Um if you don’t mind can you write for mbav? Something along the lines of the reader and Ethan try a fake relationship thing cause Ethan asked her to? Like to get to Sarah/ or get her attention. And everyone is shocked cause they thought Benny and the reader would date instead cause all 3 of them are childhood friends”

Genre:Fluff mostly but I guess a little angst torwards the end

Warnings: some arguing and also it’s LONG, don’t say I didn’t warn you

A/N: This has a little Ethan x reader too but over all it’s Benny with a guest apperence from jelous!Benny torwards the end (or at least that’s what I was going for)

~~~

“Wait, you’re dating?! Like for real dating?!”

 You clinged tighter to Ethan’s arm “Yeah, we are” but you weren’t. You didn’t want to lie to your friends and it was honestly making you kinda uncomfy but you were doing it for E.

“Ok so how long has this been going on for?” asked Benny. You and your entire friend group were gathered around his locker and you decided to break the news to them about your and Ethan’s “relationship”, which was all bullcrap. He had asked you a couple nights before to pretend. He was hoping it would get him closer to Sarah.

“Um, no more than a month” E said, trying to sound as confident as possible and doing a fairly good job at it. Of course you saw right through him but everyone else seemed to buy his act.

“Well that’s...interesting news” Sarah laughed awkwardly

“You think so? Why?”

The group went silent for a moment

“Well, just cause” Sarah started, nervousness laced into her tone “I mean I would have guessed that Benny and Y/N were going to get together eventually.” Rory and Erika just nodded in agreement while Benny tried to suppress a nervous laughter.

“I mean, come on guys” he said “ I’ve known Y/N for just as long as Ethan.” 

“Yeah, but you two just always seemed, I don’t know, closer?”

“Well” Ethan interrupted “ seems like you were wrong on that one.”

Suddenly aware of how rude she sounded, Sarah babbled some lame excuse and left quickly, face red from embarrassment. Rory and Erika left as well, each in their own direction, but not before congratulating the couple once more. Benny was the only one left.

“You good Benny?” E asked

“Yeah, I guess it’s just interesting seeing you like this”

“I hope you’re not mad or anything I mean we…” you were quickly cut off by Benny

“No, no, absolutely, not! I’m really happy for you guys! My two best friends are in love, that’s really cool!” A pink tint made its way onto your cheeks hearing Benny say “in love”, even though you knew it wasn’t true. E smiled at you and hid his face in your hair. You wrapped your arms around his neck and he placed his hands on your hips, swaying you two back and forth for a moment

“Alright, well I gotta go. Chem starts in a few” you told your boys and headed to class, not before hugging both of them and leaving Ethan with a quick peck on the cheek

As soon as you got to class however, you texted your “boyfriend”

“Think that went pretty well”

“I think so too. Everyone seemed to buy it!”

“I know!” you said and the conversation ended like that. 

You switched your attention back to your teacher, who was discussing your next assignment but even though your eyes were on her, your mind was replaying Sarah’s comment on repeat. You and Benny, huh? You couldn’t say you disliked the idea or that you’ve never thought about it. You’ve always felt different when hanging out with him compared to all your other friends.You felt more free and comfortable. You couldn’t stop the smile on your face from the fuzzy feeling you got just thinking about Bens and you together.

“So how long are we gonna be doing this for?” you texted Ethan. Now that you thought about it, you could never date Benny after this. The sudden realisation made your stomach twist in knots. He would never even go on a date with you if he thought you to be Ethan’s ex! Bro code or whatever but you couldn’t blame them!

“I don’t know for sure, I don’t see why it should last more than a couple months.”

“Ok” you didn’t mind helping E. He was a great guy and one day, some amazing girl is gonna see that and be all over him, even if it’s not Sarah! And he’s going to fall in love and have a beautiful wife and a happy family and this thing you are doing right now is just gonna be a silly high school memory to look back at. You tried not to overthink everything like you usually do and go with the flow, have fun.

It was surprisingly easy to do. Holding hands and occasional cheek kisses didn’t mean much and you never had a “proper kiss”, telling everyone you were simply not fans of PDA. It didn’t feel much like you were a couple, just closer friends. Touchier.

About 4 months down the line, you and Ethan go on your last “date”, which really just meant pizza night at Morgan’s.

“Thanks for all this Y/N, I know you didn’t have to and it might have been awkward at times but it means a lot that you went with it all this time” Ethan says sincerely while pouring you a glass of soda

“Don’t be silly E! You are one of my best friends. I would do anything for you.”

“Yeah but, now you and Benny won’t be…” he didn’t finish his sentence, as if he wasn’t sure if bringing this up was even a good idea or if it was gonna make you mad. You told E about your crush on your best friend not long after your first day as a “couple”. You couldn’t lie to him and quite honestly, you needed someone to vent to. The more you thought about Benny, the more it hurt and while you weren’t mad at Ethan for bringing it up now (you knew he had the best of intentions), it was putting you off

“Let’s not talk about that tonight” you said softly

“Right, yes, of course! Sorry” you giggle and reached out for your glass of soda, raising it up

“A toast!” you declared dramatically, making E laugh “To our breakup!” Ethan raised his own glass and clicked it with yours 

“To our breakup!” he said before you both took a sip of your drinks

You laid down on the couch, getting ready to watch Scare Finder. Your head was resting on one of Ms. Morgan’s decorative pillows and you placed your feet on E’s lap. He rolled his eyes at you and you giggled

“I love you!”

“I love you too babe” he joked before laying down next to you and wrapping you in a hug. The couch was a bit too small for the both of you to lay down side by side and you felt the left side of your body  hanging off the edge but E’s arms were around your waist, holding you and you felt safe

“Can we..” Ethan whispered nervously “can we keep cuddling during shows even if we aren’t boyfriend- girlfriend anymore?” 

“Yes of course” you giggled

“Good, cause this is really comfortable” he whispered in your neck

“I know, I love it too”

~~~

 Your breakup was a much bigger deal than you anticipated.Your friends seemed not only shocked, but heartbroken too. You didn’t tell them anything about why you ended your relationship, saying it was too early and you didn’t feel like talking about it but that you were still close friends and nothing was going to change

Things went back to normal afterwards, except now you were single and so was Benny and you couldn't help the invisible pull, dragging you closer and closer to him. Everyone of his silly jokes made you crack up and you couldn’t even be mad at him when his failed spells ended up in a big mess that you and the friend group needed to solve. You hadn’t realised how much you missed him until you broke up with E. Whether or not that relationship was real, it felt like a real reason to stay away from Benny. It felt like you were taken because everyone else belived you to be. You couldn’t make a move on him because everyone knew you to have a boyfriend but now you didn’t and you couldn’t help yourself from looking at B in a different light.

You were over at his house, helping him pack some herbs he had to organise for his grandma, as punishment for wasting all her old ones on some spell. You were stuffing dried leaves in tiny jars, while Benny was busying himself attaching little tags to them, with the name of each plant.

“Thanks again for coming to help me, you didn’t have to”

“Anytime Bens, you know I’m always here for you” you looked at him and smiled sweetly. He looked into your eyes and said

“I know, Thank you” you nodded and switched your focus back on the plants, hoping he wouldn’t notice the blush on your face. Lucky for you, he started telling a story that happened in his geography class and things slowly fell into their usual, casual place, at least up until you had to leave.

You placed the last little jar in its respective spot on the shelf

“I think this is it, right?” Benny asked

“It should be”

“Perfect, I’m in dire need of a snack. You want chips? I have some upstairs”

“No, it’s late, I should head home”

“Um, ok yeah. No problem” but none of you moved after that, you just looked at one other for a little bit, until the awkwardness got too much and you took your backpack and headed to the door

“Thanks again” Benny said right when you reached the door

“No problem” and then time froze again. You got lost in his pretty eyes and barely noticed his chest rising and falling faster with every second that passed until, you both found yourselves in each other's arms, kissing deeply and desperately, as if you’ve waited all your life for this. Your hands tangled in his hair, pulling at loose strands, his hands running up and down your back, bringing you as close to him as possible. All your senses were intoxicated with him and finally, the little pit in your chest disappeared. Your lips fit together like puzzle pieces but than, all of a sudden, Benny pushed you away aggressively

“No, I can’t do that!” his back turned to you, but you saw the red in his face and his hands went to his head, massaging the back of his neck just like you had been doing

“Benny…”

“No, no, you are Ethan’s ex and we can’t do that! I can’t do that!”

“B, listen to me!” you tried to step towards him but at your slightest movement, he jumped back, finally turning to face you

“Y/N, that was a mistake and I’m sorry! We shouldn’t have done that! It was a mistake” your eyes stung from the tears threatening to spill down your cheeks

“Don’t say that…” you could barely hear your own voice and were genuinely surprised when B replied

“Of course it was! As much as I wanted to do it and as right as it may have felt, it’s barely been a few weeks since your last relationship with MY BEST FRIEND and your best friend too and we can’t, I CAN’T do this to him! You, you guys dated and…”

“But we didn’t!” you said

“Of course you did, are you out of your mind?” Benny looked at you, teary eyed and desperate “I saw you, we saw you! Holding hands and cheek kisses! He had his arm around your back every moment of every goddamn school day and every time I wished it was me! He had all of you and he could hold you during movie nights and spend all his free time with you and kiss you and run his hands through your hair and everytime he did it I imagined that I was in his spot, hoping you would look at me with the same love and admiration that you looked with at him but now it’s too late! It doesn’t matter that he didn’t cherish you better while he had you because I still can not take you! I can’t do that to him!”

“Benny it wasn’t real!”

“What does that even mean Y/N?” he was yelling now, but you knew he wasn’t angry, just hurt. You saw the tears in his eyes and how hard he tried to stop them from running down his face.

“We weren’t ever dating! We just pretended!” the madness in his eyes turned to a question, an invitation for you to continue “It was all a show Bens. He wanted to impress Sarah. He asked me to fake a relationship with him.”

Benny leaned over the table, resting his body on his arms. He seemed to be thinking for a while, until he said “That’s a stupid idea”

You laughed “I thought so too when he told me” Benny seemed to think some more before saying

“Such an Ethan idea to have” which only made you laugh more

“So it was never real?” he asks you finally

“No! It was just an act” but even now, Benny couldn’t say anything. He was looking at his hands nervously. You took a deep breath and said the one thing you could think of

“He knows if that’s what you are wondering” the boy looked at you with questioning eyes again “Ethan I mean”

“Ethan knows what?”

“That I like you” Benny straightened and looked at you with soft eyes once more, you felt your cheeks heat up and turned to walk away but Benny quickly grabbed your wrist and pulled you into him, holding you in a tight hug. 

“So, does that mean I can kiss you again?” a small smile tugged at your lips

“Please do”

[expectingtofly]

Painted Nails and Pride

1.7k

internalized homophobia, john being an a**hole, bisexual dean, found family, happy ending

written for day 7 of @spnprideweek

Music boomed from the park down the street and Dean tried to focus on the newspapers spread out before him, front pages covered with news about a bear attack at a campsite a few miles west. Not actually a bear attack, of course. From the tracks they’d seen when they hiked out there yesterday, Dad's money was on wendigo.

Cheering drew his eyes from the table where he, Sam, and Dad sat outside a restaurant to the people heading down the sidewalk towards the music. Banners on streetlights along the road proclaimed that today marked Roseville's 3rd Annual Pride Parade. His eyes snagged on a group of kids his own age standing on the street corner, hugging and talking excitedly. One boy had painted nails and wore a cropped shirt that exposed his midriff. As he talked with his friends, he looked around, and his eyes met Dean’s. He smiled at him, and Dean ducked his head, face burning.

An announcer’s voice echoed down the street. “Welcome to Pride,” the voice boomed. Dean folded and unfolded the corner of the newspaper, listening to the cheering, rotating the ring on his thumb around and around.

Dad snorted, and Dean glanced up at him. Arms crossed, leaning back in his chair, he watched the proceedings with a scowl on his face. Dean studied the newspapers more intently, underlining words just to look like he was doing something productive. Part of him wanted to go down to the parade, just to see what it was all about, but that was ridiculous. Only affirmed by a derogatory comment Dad made low under his breath about the people in the street.

“Yeah,” Dean agreed verbally, jostling his leg under the table. He glanced sideways at Sam, who was giving Dad a glare. Dean gave him a look that meant, don’t start, but Sam ignored him.

“Don’t say that,” he said, and Dean froze, eyes snapping to their father. Dad pulled his eyes from the street to Sam, giving him a long, steady look.

“What?” he asked after a long moment. “You one of them?”

Sam only held his gaze for a second before it seemed his courage failed. He ducked his head. “No,” he mumbled, kicking at the table leg.

Dad stared at him for another long moment, expressionless, before turning his journal around and dropping it in front of Sam. “Shut up and make yourself useful. Sooner we figure out what’s killing these folks, sooner we can get out of this goddamn town.”

He waved down the waitress for another drink, and Dean glared at Sam, who was absently thumbed through the journal pages. Returning to his own work, he snapped one newspaper closed and opened another, skimmed an article about the victim’s family. The words didn’t really make sense in his head, though, and too soon he found himself watching the people in the street again. The boy who’d smiled at him had disappeared, though, probably watching the parade.

Finding a one-off line in an article about rumors of a strange being haunting the woods, he circled it and handed the newspaper across the table.

“Nice work,” Dad said, taking the paper, but instead of the usual warmth from his praise, Dean only felt sick.

He felt about the same now, standing in Jody’s kitchen—off to the side so he wouldn’t be in the way during the frenzied preparations to attend the Sioux Falls Pride Parade. Music played from Patience’s phone, some song he recognized from Cas constantly turning the radio dial to the pop music station. Sam helped Kaia finish a sign decorated with the lesbian flag, and Eileen signed with Alex who was learning sign language in high school. Claire sat at the table painting Jack’s nails, who wriggled in his seat excitedly.

Catching Dean’s eyes, he held up the hand Claire had finished. “Dean, look!”

Dean forced a smile. “Looks good.”

“Stay still,” Claire ordered, frowning down at Jack’s hand as she painted his pinky.

This was a bad idea, Dean thought. Jody had invited them for the week, mentioning off-hand that Sioux Fall’s pride events were going on, and Dean had pushed aside the mild panic at that comment, told her they’d come visit. He didn’t know he’d be roped into joining everyone at Pride, but here he was, feeling out of place in the corner of the kitchen. Who knew how he’d feel standing at the parade.

“Want me to do yours?” Claire asked, and Dean snapped his attention back to her. She was holding a bottle of nail polish, others lined up next to her on the table, and he froze, realizing what she was suggesting.

His first instinct was to spit out, “I’m not one of those,” but guilt rushed through him for how harsh the words sounded in his head. Defensive words, unnecessary ones because there was no threat here. He didn't mean them anyway.

Swallowing them down, he glanced around the kitchen for rescue. Cas was helping Donna pack water bottles because “It’s gonna be hot out there,” but he must’ve felt Dean’s gaze because he looked over and gave him a reassuring smile. No judgement in his eyes, or Claire's either, for that matter. He had a feeling he wouldn't find any judgement in this kitchen, which should've been a relief, but he had a hard time trusting it.

“Come on, Dean,” Jack said. “We can match!”

You can do this, Dean told himself. It's just Pride, not an Apocalypse.

He tried to smile. “Sure,” he said, going to the table and sitting down, chest tight.

He chose the color blue because it felt less ostentatious than the pinks and lilacs Claire presented to him. Even so, the color looked strikingly bright in the sunlight as he stood along the street marked off for the parade, and he shoved his hands into his pockets.

“Hey,” Cas said, touching his shoulder. Dean tensed, then felt awful for his reaction, but Cas didn’t move away, only rubbed between his shoulder blades until Dean relaxed marginally. “You okay?”

Dean nodded. “Fine,” he managed. Cas gave him a small smile and leaned his head on Dean’s shoulder.

A float passed with people waving and dancing on top, a banner strung across the front declaring, “Protect Trans Kids.” Jack waved a rainbow flag around, cheering along with the crowd. Claire’s arm was wrapped around Kaia’s shoulders, a smile tugging at her mouth despite her attempts to look unbothered by the proceedings. Dean wished he could feel that nonchalant. Instead, he kept looking over his shoulder. He didn’t know exactly what threat he was looking for, but the press of the growing crowds and the heat and noise, the bright colors and waving flags everywhere he looked was making him nauseous.

Turning back to the parade, he met Sam’s eyes. “Never thought we’d both end up here, right?” Sam asked over the noise, attempting levity, and Dean wondered if he remembered sitting outside near a Pride parade, feeling so unsure. There were plenty of other instances to remember, plenty of times John made disparaging comments that Dean either pretended to not hear or agreed with out of a panic that if he wasn’t careful, they might be directed at him next.

“This is fun,” Sam commented, watching the parade, and Dean wished he could agree.

Easy for you to say, he thought. You have a girlfriend, people’ll assume you’re straight. But he felt bad for thinking it. He didn’t want Cas to move away from him—if anything, wanted him closer, wanted his arm around him. But he felt too tense to move.

A crowd of middle-aged people walked in the parade, t-shirts reading variations of MOM HUGS, DAD HUGS, GRANDPA HUGS. Dean watched as people stepped off the sidewalk and hugged the moms and dads, some crying as soon as arms wrapped around them.

Without his permission, he felt his own eyes growing teary and he ducked his head, scraped his heel on the sidewalk.

“Dammit,” Jody said. “Where can I get one of those t-shirts?”

“We gotta do that next year,” Donna decided, and Jack gave her a hug.

“You can hand out hugs without the t-shirt,” he told her, and she grinned.

“You’re right.” Lifting her arms, she announced, “Free hugs over here!” People around them laughed, and someone took her up on the offer, telling her, “You’ve got a lovely family.”

Donna beamed. “Why yes I do.” She pulled Claire into a half-hug that Claire resisted, protesting the whole time. “Come here, Sam,” she said, yanking Sam into a hug that he had to nearly fold himself in half for. Everyone else got their turn, then she turned to Dean, holding out her arms.

Dean stepped into it, wrapping his arms around her. A gentler hug, Donna rubbing his back. Dean sunk into the embrace, the chaos around him subsiding for a moment.

“We’re family now, right?” she asked, pulling away to meet his eyes, and Dean nodded. Smiling at him and patting his arm, she turned back to Jody, wrapping an arm around her.

It felt a little easier to breathe now, his chest not so tight. The crowds around them didn’t seem so threatening, just smiling people with their families like he was with his. Eileen cheered as a float passed with an Irish LGBTQ+ coalition, and Dean smiled, easier now, not forced.

Jody pulled Donna in for a kiss that turned into making out. Claire rolled her eyes. “Ew, guys, Gross.” Kaia elbowed her and Claire’s put-on air of displeasure broke into a grin as she elbowed her back. Cas nudged Dean with a small smile when a float of pink, purple, and blue streamers drove past. For a moment, Dean's chest seized, John's voice ringing in his head, but in all the noise around them, it quickly drowned out.

Pulling his hands from his pockets, he took Cas’ hand. Cas interlaced their fingers immediately, squeezing tightly, then lifted their hands and studied Dean’s nails. Dean had let Jack paint a smiley face on his pinky to match the one on Jack’s thumbs. Staring at them, he thought of a boy at Pride with painted nails, his own fears and wants tightening his chest, but then Cas looked up at him with a smile, and the memory faded into a warm glow.

“I like them,” Cas told him.

“Yeah," Dean said. "Me too.”

[mypoisonedvine]

Seeing Red | bodyguard!Bucky Barnes x actress!reader (part 8)

(part 1) (part 2) (part 3) (part 4) (part 5) (part 6) (part 7)

series summary: bucky used to brag that he didn’t have a celebrity crush, or really care about famous people at all, which is what made him the perfect person to start working for a celebrity like yourself.  except, of course, it’s just his luck that he’d fall for you.

word count: 3k

warnings: smut (semi-public sex), possessiveness (some sexual, some not), jealousy, some fluff and some angst, also some violence (including a very small amount against the reader, proceed with caution), mentions of infidelity in a previous relationship

a/n: oh y’all thought it was gonna be smooth sailing from here on out? lol

You didn’t want to abandon Bucky to do carpetside interviews, but he refused to get anywhere near a hot mic so you let him go while you walked over to a reporter you recognized; she’d been nice before, probably would be again this time, so you were a little relieved to see her tonight.

She introduced you to the camera and you were slightly spaced out until she turned to you and got your attention again.  “So, you’ve been making a lot of headlines lately for your new relationship— what’s the scoop?  How’s it going?” she asked playfully, pushing the microphone into your face.

“Uh, great,” you breamed, “he’s my date tonight and he seems to have disappeared to…” you turned around to look for him.  “Oh, he’s talking to... is that... Laurence Fishburne?”

“James, is that his name?” she prompted, making you focus your attention back on the interview.

“Um, yeah,” you nodded, the name sounding a bit foreign, “legally, but he goes mostly by his nickname Bucky.”

“Aw, that’s cute,” she smiled.  “He’s, uh…” her eyes widened a bit and you laughed.

“Yeah, he is,” you smirked.  “I assume by that facial expression you mean ‘crazy hot.’”

“I mean, in the politest way possible… yeah,” she giggled.

“Yeah, no, don’t pretend not to notice for my sake, cause, yeah, it’s… apparent.”

“Apparently he was your driver first?” she pressed.

“Yes!” you beamed, and then heard the way it sounded and backpedaled slightly.  “I promise that’s not why I hired him.  I actually didn’t meet him before he was on my team, but, I mean, I wasn’t mad to have some eye candy in the front seat.”

“Eye candy, huh?”

“But he’s so much more than that, that’s the thing,” you explained.  “We became good friends first, because he’s so smart and funny and kind and… I mean, I know he looks tough, and he is, but he’s really very sensitive underneath the slightly intimidating exterior.”

“Hard shell, soft center, sweet— he really does sound like candy!”

“Indeed,” you nodded.  “Gotta run but it was nice to chat!”

You dashed over to Bucky and clung onto his arm.  “Oh, hey, we were just talking about you,” he beamed.

“Loved you in After Midnight,” Mr. Fishburne smiled and even you were totally starstruck.

“Oh, wow, thanks, I loved you in… everything…” you trailed off, internally scolding yourself for the vague and useless compliment.  He was about to respond but was pulled away by some member of his team, giving you and Bucky a quick wave as he began a carpet-side interview.

“That was Laurence Fishburne, wasn’t it.” Bucky mumbled to you in a stunned monotone.  

“Yes, what were you doing talking to him?” you asked, amazed at his bravery to approach such a huge star.

“He came up to me, to congratulate me on… on dating you, I guess…”

“Or he mixed you up with Brad Pitt,” you shrugged.

“Yeah, if Brad Pitt lost all his money, spent a decade in the desert, went loco and buzzed all his hair off,” Bucky rolled his eyes.

“Oh come on, you look great,” you soothed him, straightening his tie.  “Wanna go take some pictures?”

“I’m a little scared,” he admitted with a shy smile.

“It’s easy, just give them that sexy brooding look you do so well.”

Bucky smirked pridefully.  “You think so?”

“Totally.  You’re a natural,” you assured.

You tugged his arm and guided him to the carpet, letting him lead the way (or look like he was leading the way) as you found a clear spot and noticed how the cameras instantly flashed faster and brighter.  Photographers called your name to get your attention, and you waved and smiled and pulled Bucky closer.  The feeling of his arm around your waist was warm and comforting, and you hoped holding you had the same effect for him.

“Where are you looking?” you asked.

“At you,” he answered.

“Bucky,” you giggled, “you’re supposed to look at the cameras!”

“I honestly can’t, it’s blinding,” he frowned.

“Here,” you sighed, pointing out into the darkness just above the sea of flashing lights.  “Look out there.”

“I can’t see anything!”

“I know, but, look as if there was something there to look at, trust me, it helps.”

You adjusted slightly a few times, turning a little to show off the low back of your dress.  You almost gasped when Bucky held your face and kissed you suddenly, but you were happy to melt into it even as you heard the cameras flash even more aggressively, some whoops and hollers coming from the crowd on and off the carpet.

He pulled back and you wanted to chase him for more but you realized it wasn’t the right time.  

“Let’s go inside,” you offered, guiding him the rest of the way down the carpet— mainly because you were afraid you’d end up jumping his bones right here in front of everyone.

He nodded and followed close by, arm resting on your shoulder the whole time, and just as you saw one of your friends and thought you might want to go over and introduce her to Bucky, you saw who she was talking to.

Sam.  

Seeing him always made your heart stop.  At first, it was because you were starstruck by him, in awe of his talent, amazed that you were going to be working with someone you admired so much.  Then it was because you had fallen for him and he had gladly swept you off your feet, bringing you into a whirlwind romance that at the time had felt like the only thing that mattered.  But since the break-up, and now, it was something else.  Fear wasn’t the word, it’s not like you were afraid of him in a literal sense, but there was this anxiety, this tenseness to seeing him.  It always brought back memories— the best and the worst, all at once.  Nights laughing together, sharing secrets, stealing glances and touches and kisses; nights spent alone staring at a phone that never rang.  Limbs tangled together between the sheets, that warm brown skin encompassing and surrounding yours; laying side by side in a bed that isn’t empty but is still plenty cold, seeing the way he angles his phone away from you and wishing you had the strength to just leave because you already knew what he was doing.  The first time you said ‘I love you.’  The first time he said ‘it won’t happen again.’

“You alright?” Bucky asked, tearing you from your thoughts.  You looked away and met Bucky’s gaze, hoping he either hadn’t seen your ex or at least hadn’t recognized him.  

“Yeah, I’m great,” you answered quickly, “let’s go get some drinks maybe?  And then I need to show you off to some people.”

“Show me off?” he scoffed.

“Yeah, why did you think I brought you here, really?” you winked.

“Hey, if we’re showing each other off, does that mean you’ll come to my next high school reunion?”

//

You’d been antsy ever since the two of you had come inside; it was obvious from the way you were clinging so much closer to him, and yet it was clear that your mind was a million miles away.

“Hey, it’s starting to wrap up, wanna head out soon?” you asked, trying to act casual, but he saw the way your eyes were darting up to where Sam Wilson was mingling and he knew it wasn’t about getting home early.  Did you really think he wouldn’t notice that you’d seen him?

“Whatever you wanna do,” he shrugged.

“Okay, could you bring the car around for me then?  And I’ll meet you outside?” you offered.  “I should say hi and bye to a few people.”

“Sure,” he agreed, starting to walk away after giving you a quick kiss on the cheek.

And he really did try to do what he said he was going to, but the further away he walked, the more he glanced back to watch you walk across the room, the harder it was to just let it go.  He knew you were going to talk to him, and before he really even decided to do anything about it he found himself circling back around the room, following you.  

He thought he’d lost you when he turned a corner and you were gone, but then he heard voices from a doorway and cracked it open slightly to see you inside with a few other people, nobody he recognized although one of them he’d definitely seen in something before.

He sighed with relief, about to turn and go get the car like he said he would, but then Sam Wilson just had to magically materialize out of thin air as he stepped up behind you and tapped your shoulder.

“Sam!” you blurted out, spinning to face him with wide eyes.

“Hey,” he greeted, acting all suave and shit, making Bucky’s blood boil.  “You look great.”

“Oh, thanks,” you mumbled, “you too.”

“You’ve been all over the internet lately, making quite the splash,” he recalled with a contemplative nod.  “You and this new boytoy you’ve got.”

“I think the word you’re looking for is boyfriend,” you corrected sternly.  

“Honey,” he scoffed as he rolled his eyes.  Bucky couldn’t decide if it was worse to hear him call you a pet name in earnest or with the derogatory tone that he currently had.  “Everybody knows you go through these guys like potato chips.  Especially when they’re not famous— how many PAs did you hook up with on your last set, huh?”

“I don’t roll like that anymore,” you denied.

“That’s not what Jake Friedman says,” Sam smirked.  It actually took Bucky a moment to remember that that was the guy you’d… entertained in the backseat of your car, or maybe it was more that he had entertained you; you seemed to tense up when Sam mentioned him, as did Bucky.  “I mean, sure, he’s not crew, but he’s not famous the way you are.  The way we are.  And neither is your new guy.  He doesn’t ‘get it’, does he?  He doesn’t get what it’s like.  Has he already started freaking out about all the hate online?”

Bucky regretted that he’d ever said anything about that; if he’d known it would come around to prove Sam Wilson right about something, he wouldn’t have done it.  “No,” you lied.

“Well, he will,” Sam assured you, stepping a little closer to you and letting his fingers languidly brush over your arm.  “I made a mistake before, letting you go.”

“Damn right,” you hissed as you pulled away from him.

“But I realized that, and now I’m wondering why we aren’t giving the people what they want.”

“That’s what I never understood about you,” you frowned.  “It’s always about other people with you.  It’s never about you, and it was never about me.”

“But it is about you,” he explained, “and me: us.  You’re forgetting how good we were together.”

You shook your head.  “I was single for years and you never called.  Now you’re all over me with all these regrets about ending it?  Get a grip, Sam.  This is about you wanting what you can’t have.”

“Can’t have?” he repeated incredulously.  “Baby,” he purred— and Bucky decided it was definitely worse to hear him call you that in earnest.  “You know you’re always gonna be mine.”

As you started to shiver, Sam’s arms slipping around your back and grabbing your waist, Bucky felt like he had lost control of his body.  He was watching himself from far away as he stormed across the room, nearly knocking a few people over on the way, and shoved Sam off of you and onto the ground.

“Bucky!” you yelped.  “Bucky, stop!”

“You’d better watch your hands, Wilson, before they get somewhere they’re not supposed to be,” Bucky growled, ignoring you completely even as you helplessly tugged at his suit.  

“Jesus,” Sam spat, “the fuck is wrong with you?”

“What are you doing?” you asked Bucky, irate and confused as you stared up at him with a furrowed brow.  He grabbed your hand and guided you out of the room and down the hall, barely managing to drag you into a random bathroom before he started tearing at your dress, leaving rough bites and kisses down your neck as you gasped and moaned softly.  

“Mine,” he mumbled against your skin, “all mine.  Did you forget?”

“No,” you sighed, “I could never…”

“That’s not what it looked like,” he sneered, hiking up your long skirt to run his fingers over your skin and expose the delicate, lacy panties you were wearing. 

“Bucky, please,” you sighed, rubbing your hips up against his leg, riding his thigh shamelessly.

“What’s got you so worked up, baby?  Is it me, or him?” he asked darkly.

“You, baby, just you, nobody else— I’m yours,” you assured him feverishly, “I’m all yours, please, I need you.”

“Yeah?” he breathed, fumbling with his belt and fly as he pulled his growing cock from his suit pants.  “You need it that bad?”

“Please,” you sobbed, “fuck me.”

He pulled your underwear aside and quickly shoved into you, groaning at the feeling of your walls stretching to welcome him.  “Fuck, angel, so tight,” he sighed, knowing how much little praises drove you crazy.

“Bucky,” you sighed, “oh my god… harder, please— n-need you deeper…”

His hips moved back only to slam back against yours, making you whimper; he smiled when he felt your leg wrap around his waist and try to hold him inside, but he couldn’t slow down now, not when he needed this so bad.

He sucked on your neck as he kept thrusting into you, your wetness coating his cock so thoroughly that he slid right home every time.  It was clear that he was hitting your g-spot from how you moaned with each thrust, your spongy channel pulsing and tightening in rhythmic patterns.

Overcome with the need to assert his, for lack of a better word, ownership over you, he found himself reaching up to hold your throat— not quite in the way to choke you, just to remind you that he could, if he wanted to.

“Did he ever make you come like this?” he asked with a gravelly whisper, lips right against your ear as he tightened his hand around your neck slightly.

“No,” you shook your head, “nobody has.”

“Nobody’s ever loved you this good but me, is that it?  Nobody else has ever fucked you like this?”

“Just you, Bucky, please don’t stop— I’m so close…”

“Do you think they can hear you out in the hallway?  Say my name when you come, princess, just in case they can— I want them to know who’s making you feel this good.”

“Bucky,” you whined, chanting it over and over with a few ‘yes’s and ‘fuck’s interspersed occasionally.  He thrusted faster and harder as he felt his own orgasm building; he needed to come inside you and claim you again, mark you as his one more time, and the flexing of your walls was only egging him on.

“I know you’re close, baby, just let go,” he whispered against your ear, “come for me, just like that, you’re doing so good— fuck, so good for me…”

You whimpered and clutched at his shoulders, a gush of wetness and a final, strong tightening of your inner muscles signaling that you’d reached your peak.  He couldn’t hold back any longer when he saw (and felt) that, groaning as he began to release thick streams of come into you.

The absolute second your afterglow began to fade, you pushed him off of you and grimaced as you adjusted your panties and dress.  "The fuck is wrong with you?"

"Wh— what?" he stammered, breathless and confused.  "What did I do?  Was I not supposed to come inside?"

You gaped at him in shock.  "Do you really not realize what you did?  Bucky, you assaulted my ex-boyfriend."

"I— he'll be fine," he dismissed, "he was putting his hands on you, what was I supposed to do, just let him do it?"

"You were supposed to let me handle it," you hissed.  "You were supposed to be pulling the car around and not spying on me!"

"Spying?!  I was protecting you."

"You shoved him hard enough to knock him over, Bucky, that's not okay."

"Hold on," he shook his head in disbelief, "so you're mad at me, when we just had sex?!  Why didn't you say something before?"

"Just cause it's hot doesn't mean it's okay," you explained, a little embarrassed.

"Tell me something," he frowned, "what is this—" he motioned to the space between the two of you— "to you?  Cause it kinda seems like I think we're boyfriend and girlfriend, and you think—"

"What?  What do I think?" you challenged.  "Go ahead, tell me."

"You think it's just a sex thing."

"Oh my god," you rolled your eyes.

"Well, what am I supposed to think when you get off on me dealing with your ex, and then tell me it's this big terrible thing?"

A sick idea clawed its way out of the back of Bucky's mind: was Sam right about her?  Was Sam right about us?

You crossed your arms and huffed, but didn't respond.

"Was everything that just happened just a fuckin' kink for you or something?  Cause I meant every goddamn word," he growled.

You sighed, like you weren't taking it seriously— like you weren't taking him seriously.  His fist tightened at his side involuntarily.  He'd never felt so used, so ignored; or, at least, he never expected it from you.  "We'll talk about this later," you dismissed quickly.  "Let's just go back there and put on a happy face, okay?"

"Oh, so you can let another guy feel you up?  Sounds like a fucking blast," he hissed.

"Fuck you," you snarled as you pushed him aside to leave the bathroom.

He didn't remember grabbing you, he didn't remember twisting your arm as he pulled you back.  He didn't remember you crying out, trying to wrench yourself away, clawing at his grip on you.  All he remembered was you looking up at him with watery eyes, expression twisted in fear.

"Bucky, you're hurting me," you whimpered weakly, and only then did he notice his metal hand was holding your wrist.  When he let go, he already saw a mark forming in the shape of his hand as you grabbed your freed wrist to rub the damaged flesh.

"I'm sorry—" he began to whisper, but you were already gone.

[lumosinlove]

Vaincre

~

Part ii: August

~

For the hope of it all

~

The river was crowded, but the pier was their own.

Happy Birthday Harzy, was spelled out in big balloon letters, turning in the summer breeze, backwards and bumping.

Logan stood at the waterfront and looked at Leo’s—as it was mostly Leo’s—handiwork. Lobster rolls and soft-shell crab buffet, corn bread and iced tea. Chilled white and orange wines. Summer dresses fluttered and crossed each other as people talked, making new patterns, and Logan let himself settle into the laughter. He had a bad habit of taking peace and worrying it away. He didn’t want to do that today. He wanted to watch Finn enjoy himself, his team, his family. Logan had spent every one of Finn’s birthdays with their Harvard team, and then there had been that one, horribly absent year when Finn had been in Gryffindor and he hadn’t—not yet. He wanted to watch the way Leo put his long arms around his friends, in the same way his mother did, warm and strong. Logan wanted to watch without feeling that sharp tug of worry. He couldn’t have even said what he was worrying about. It was vague.

He’d done a lot of watching this summer. He loved it to the point of never wanting to do anything else. Finn and Leo were alike to each other in more ways than Logan would ever be. Whatever rapid-fire conversation they were in the middle of would often quickly leave Logan behind, but Logan didn’t care as long as he got them stumbling and laughing over each other to try and explain it to him—a book, a TV show, some sort of video game. He knew they liked telling him about it, and Logan loved watching them love things—including himself. Logan had never thought of himself as acting as a grounding point before. That had always been Finn or Leo. He always felt too wild in his own head, unsure, reserved. Vague. But Leo had said it to him this summer.

“When me and Finn lived together, we stayed up so late just talking,” Leo had said one early morning on the beach when they had left Finn sleeping. Logan wouldn’t be quick to forget the feeling of just being able to hold Leo’s hand for so long, in such an open space.

Leo had kissed the back of his palm too many times for Logan to think he’d be forgetting it, either.

“And you and I did the same thing, you know?” Leo continued. “On roadies.”

“Playing cards,” Logan smiled. “And our sundaes.”

Leo nodded, and his smile grew a little softer. He stared at his toes digging into the sand. “And I knew how connected you two were. Well, I guess not how connected, but I knew you two were better friends than anyone on the team, even Sirius and James. Even if you didn’t always act like it. I feel like good friends can do that, handle distance and snap back into place.”

“And?” Logan remembered asking playfully. “Which long talks were better?”

Leo just laughed. “No, no. Not better. Finn talking is like…wild. Like wind. Talking to you is stillness. I love both. The point is, that was…that was my connection. To both of you.” He had cleared his throat then, and given Logan’s hand a squeeze. “My mama always says if you can talk to someone forever then—“

“They’re yours forever,” Logan finished. “My maman says the same thing.”

Leo’s answering smile had been blinding.

An arm circled his waist, another pressing right over his heart.

“Nice party,” Finn said softly into his ear, and Logan only had a moment in that warmth before it was gone, wary of prying eyes. It made Logan miss France, and their brief stay at his mother’s family home that summer.

No one had known them there, and Leo had adored the markets, cooking elaborate meals while Finn and Logan had sat on the counter, watching him and loving him. They’d eaten out on the stone patio, overlooking the sea.

Finn looked a little like he had there, cheeks sun-hot. Logan wanted to reach for them, as he had then, cool them with his thumb. Finn smiled, making the sun-kissed skin crease a little.

“What?” he asked.

Logan shook his head. “Remember that picture?” he asked. “The one of us. It was on your wall at Harvard, you were standing behind me, hand on my chest.”

Finn’s mouth quirked, and he nodded. Logan hesitated for a moment, realizing that Finn was wearing his NASA t-shirt, the same one he had worn the day he’d left Harvard for good, leaving Logan behind. Logan stared at the logo, then looked away, back up to his brown eyes. Bambi, the boys at Harvard had called him.

He took a sip of his drink and shrugged. “I don’t know where it went. I know you packed it, took it with you, but I can’t find it. Do you know…”

Logan trailed off, as Finn had taken out his wallet. He set his beer on the pier ledge, flipped the worn leather open, and slipped out a folded piece of paper, thick, and well-loved. He held it out to Logan, biting his lip, and then leaned back against the railing, as if waiting.

Logan let the photo fall open in his fingers, and exhaled a shaky, steadying breath. There was a laugh in it somewhere.

“Oh,” he said.

“Didn’t know you were looking for it,” Finn replied, and trailed his fingers, cold from his beer, over Logan’s wrist, then reached up to fiddle briefly with his necklace.

Logan traced his eyes over the same, gaudy string lights in the photo, their same smiles—the one Logan knew he wore more freely these days.

Logan folded the picture closed again, and slipped it back into its place in Finn’s wallet.

“You want it, Lo?” Finn asked.

Logan shook his head. “I like that you have it.”

Finn stretched out a foot, ankle hooking around Logan’s, pulling him a little closer again, to stand nearly between his legs.

“I had it all that first year,” Finn smiled. “On my own.”

Logan narrowed his eyes. “Don’t.”

Finn grinned, singing off-key. “Pretending he’s beside me—”

Logan groaned, shoving his shoulder a little. “Okay, D’accord, I walked into that.”

Finn laughed loudly, and then swung his arm around Logan’s shoulders. “Let’s go find Le, get more food.”

They strode towards the tables.

“Hey!” Evgeni called out. He was standing with Olli and Jackson, his looming form leaning over the pier. “Ten bucks I jump!”

“Kuns, you don’t want to swim in this river,” Finn said.

“He’s going in whether you pay him or not,” Jackson shook his head. “At some point tonight.” He grinned, the scar that ran down one of his cheeks dimpling when he smiled. “Bet you twenty.”

“Nado,” Evgeni gasped, slapping his arm. “We split. Even.”

“No fucking way.”

Logan let Finn lead him away from their bickering, towards where he could immediately spot Leo, standing with Remus and Thomas. Logan felt everything just—soften.

“Do you ever think you could just find him?” Finn asked softly, the hand around Logan’s shoulders gesturing in Leo’s direction. “I mean, even if you couldn’t see him. You know?”

“Ouais,” Logan said, voice just as soft. “I know.”

Leo was mid-laugh when he spotted them, too.

“I gotta say,” he said as he met them halfway, hand on his hip, sunglasses in his hair. “I did a pretty damn good job.”

Logan huffed out a laugh. “You did. Really good.”

Finn snorted. “Way to take the credit, Nut.”

“He deserves it,” Logan said. “I was just here.”

“Lo’s the gift master,” Leo swung his arm around his shoulders. “And I’m the food master. Sounds about right?”

Logan patted Leo’s chest. “Are you going to jump in?”

Leo raised his eyebrows, squinting out at the water. “Do I want to swim in this water?”

“I’d swim if it was with you two,” Finn said. “I’d risk the murky monsters of the deep.”

“You gotta wait twenty minutes after eating,” Leo said. “And I haven’t tried the soft serve yet. They have swirls, they have mango, I mean, come on. I did so good.”

Finn laughed. “And I’m going to kiss you stupid later.”

“And I’m going to hold you to that,” Leo leaned in a little. “Birthday boy.”

They found Sirius holding a cone out to Remus by the machine, and Remus wrinkling his nose.

“C’est la vanille!” Sirius was laughing. “Quoi? Really? You don’t like vanilla?”

“You do?” Remus shook his head.

“Y’all we’ve caught the couple splashed on the front of every magazine in a, dare I say,” Leo paused, “fight?”

“First it’s pineapple pizza, now it’s vanilla,” Remus reached up, pushing Sirius’ chin length hair out of his eyes. “What did I sign up for?”

“Carrying his hair ties for him, apparently,” Finn reached out and snapped the tie around Remus’ wrist.

Remus rolled his eyes, and Logan thought Sirius might have blushed. When Logan reached up to poke at his cheek, he slapped his hand away and Logan laughed.

Sirius dragged Remus away towards where Julian, Remus’ little brother, was calling them over to the beanbag toss, and, momentarily tucked behind the shade of the soft-serve station, Logan felt Leo pull the both of them closer.

“Pretty good beginning to the end of the summer,” he sighed, licking his own cone.

“It was a damn good summer,” Finn grinned. “Hey, give me.”

Logan watched Leo hold out his cone to Finn, and agreed. It had been more than a good summer. It had been a perfect summer, and something in that made Logan stupidly worried. Sun and salt, and cold wine, and hot bodies pressed together as the moon rose. Logan closed his eyes for a moment, tucked between the two of them, and tried not to ruin this peace by thinking about all the times peace hadn’t been there.

This was Finn’s day. This was their season. Logan tilted his chin up and let the sweet mango of Leo’s ice cream sweeten his thoughts.

~

Noelle wasn’t at Finn’s party, and Thomas could feel it. He fiddled with the new, thin gold hoops she’d gifted him, barely circling away from his ears, the left one with a pearl strung along.

I’m the lucky one who found you, she’d said.

And he’d had to go and ruin it by trying to be funny, even while tears were pressing up as close to him as she was.

What does that make us, oysters?

She’d laughed, looked happy, but Thomas wished he’d said something else. He wished he had gotten something for her. He wished she wasn’t so far away.

I miss you, he tapped out on his phone, and that felt perfectly honest. Simple. Enough.

The three dots popped up and then went away. Thomas tried not to let it mean anything. She deserved to be busy. She worked just as hard—harder—than he did. Still, something like relief flooded through him when a long string of pink hearts answered him.

I miss YOU, T baby. Good party?? Tell Harzy happy bday for me.

Thomas blew out a breath. Will do. Say hi to the girls for me.

“You look like sad sunshine,” Natalie’s voice came, and he looked up to see her walking towards him, taking a sip from a honey colored beer with a lime wedged into it.

“I’m a little sad, Sunshine, like it or not,” Thomas laughed softly, pocketing his phone. “Where are the boys?”

“Canoodling,” Natalie sighed, hopping up onto one of the stools beside him under the umbrella. She had her long blond hair swept up into two french braids. “We’re both getting in our last drops of Alex, I think.”

Thomas nodded. “Hey, I never really asked, Nat. That just…happened this summer, or what?”

Natalie smiled. “Well, when I met Kasey, he hadn’t made it big yet, still on the Rangers farm team, but Alex had been on the Rangers for…maybe about a year? I can’t quite remember. I think Kase had only gotten called up a few times, so they’d met. But anyway, we start dating, two years later he gets a big boy contract with the Rags, and we get to know Alex. I saw him at team dinners only at first.” She smiled. “I was like, cutie, look at those freckles. But I had Kase, you know? I was pretty confused when I started looking a little closer. I mean, I was so happy.”

She pushed her sunglasses into her hair, leaning an elbow on the table and fiddling with a gold necklace at her throat that had the number 30 strung across the leather cord. Thomas wondered if she was going to add a 28 to that, Alex’s number, or if she’d get another one. He wondered if Noelle would want something like that. Maybe they could wear each other’s. He liked the thought.

“Well,” Natalie said. “I was confused until I noticed Kasey looking, but he wasn’t pulling away from me and I thought, hey…maybe this is something?”

“But that was how many years ago?”

Natalie took another drink. “No, yeah, nothing ever happened. Actually, I think they kissed once or twice. Roadies, you know? But Kasey gets traded, and then Finn arrived and we were like, wow, cruel joke.”

Thomas laughed. “I bet. But it meant Alex comes around again.”

She grinned. “That it did.”

Thomas held his drink up for a cheers. “Guess we owe those Cubs a lot.”

She clinked their bottles together. “Life’s weird. But, yeah, it happened this summer officially. Went to the O’Hara Hampton house, and I think we just loved being together. I forgot a little, how wonderful Alexander is. But,” she was smiling wildly again. “I woke up one morning and the boys had gone on a walk, they got back three hours later holding hands, Alex kissed me, and something changed. Maybe they worked through some history of theirs. We’re his now, he’s ours, whatever you want to call it.” She laughed. “Pretty good for a morning’s work.”

“Pretty good,” Thomas repeated.

“I’m worried it’ll be hard, though,” she sighed, chest rising and falling dejectedly. “He’s all the way in Florida and we’re here, together.”

Thomas glanced back down at his phone. “Yeah.”

“I bet that makes me sound like a snob to you,” she reached out and squeezed his hand.

He waved her off. “No, no, I just…we’re new, me and Noelle. Sometimes I worry that we’re too new for…for this.”

Natalie shook her head. “I think distance is distance. And, if it doesn’t work, it isn’t the physical space between two people. It’s a different sort of far away.”

Thomas tapped his fingers against his glass. “You just have something to say for everything, huh, Nat?”

She grinned. “Pretty mouth, gotta use it.”

Thomas snorted. “You’re not wrong.”

“Come on,” she said. “I’m going to whip your ass a ring toss.”

“Yeah fucking right.”

~

“Apparently they closed down a bunch of streets,” Remus was saying, still bleary-eyed and waking up as Sirius made the coffee. “That’s awesome.”

“It’s a parade. Of course,” Sirius said as he pushed the lid of their french press down.

Remus looked up to see him smiling and rolled his eyes, laughing, “Okay, sure, but it’s still crazy. They say it’s going to bigger than the Cup Parade was in June.”

That made Sirius’ eyebrows raise. “Really?”

Remus hummed in agreement, clicking his phone off and popping his back. “Well. I know Pride is in June, but I’m happy we get to do this, too.”

Sirius nodded, sliding onto the stool beside Remus with two waiting mugs. “Captain gets the Cup last. I don’t make the rules.”

Remus just yawned and let his temple fall against Sirius’ shoulder, closing his eyes as Sirius’ warm palm came to brush over his hair and neck.

“September is in two weeks,” Remus mumbled. “How the hell did that happen?”

Sirius poured their coffee and pressed a kiss against Remus’ hair. “You’ll be fine.”

“Hm?”

“I know you’re nervous for training camp. You’ve seen it a million times, though.”

“Yeah,” Remus sighed and sat up pulling his steaming mug close. “Seen it.”

Sirius laughed, going to the refrigerator for the milk. His hair was in dark, glorious tangles, and Remus vaguely wondered how much time they had before they needed to get ready.

“I meant,” Sirius leaned over the island and poured them both milk before capping it again and going for the brown sugar. Remus smiled when he realized that Sirius had picked that up from Remus’ mom, Hope. “I meant that you know it never comes across like…like some insane competition for spots.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “It is, though. I mean, not for the Sirius Black, but…”

“D’accord,” Sirius nodded. “Okay, okay. But you know what I mean?”

“I’m not worried about the team,” Remus said as Sirius came to sit down again. “I’m worried I’m not going to make the team.”

Sirius shook his head, set his mug down, and all but pulled Remus off of his stool to gather him close. Remus mumbled something about cold coffee, but smiled as he let himself be kissed good morning, kissed calm, kissed loved.

“I’m not worried,” Sirius whispered, and kissed him some more.

Remus had barely shut his car door—having opened it to cheers—before he was getting an armful of his little brother.

“Oof,” Remus grunted, but squeezed him, lifting him off of his feet. “Nice outfit, Jules.”

Julian jumped back, his Lupin Lions Pride jersey actually fitting him for once. “Thanks, dad found it for me.”

“He insisted on wearing it,” Hope Lupin smiled as she walked up. “But you’re going to roast so tell me when you want your t-shirt, baby, it’s in my bag. Hi, Re.”

“Hi, mom,” Remus let her kiss his cheek a few times.

“Salut,” Sirius grinned from beside him. Remus watched them hug, warmed more deeply than by the heat. Hope patted Sirius’ chest where a faded rainbow twelve was printed on his t-shirt. Remus was going to steal that thing as soon as he took it off.

“What a party!” Hope grinned. “Is someone grilling? Thought I smelled it.”

Remus nodded. “Yeah, they got this restaurant downtown to bring BBQ.”

“Is there ice cream?” Julian said, huffing. “I’m hot.”

Sirius plucked at his jersey jokingly. “Mais, ouais, it’s almost ninety!”

Hope laughed, and put a hand on Julian’s back. “I’ll get him cooled off. Your dad’s around here somewhere with Pascal. Meet you on the float in ten. And make sure you’re wearing sunscreen!”

Remus watched his family wind their way through the colorful, crowded streets, felt Sirius’ fingers lace through his own, and smiled.

The sun did beat down hot, but Remus didn’t mind so much, not when they were filed onto the float that was equipped with a red and gold Lions head roaring at the front and rainbow streamers at the back, like an extension of the mane. The Cup sat on a high pedestal between them, strapped in shining.

The crowd was wild. People were hanging out of the tall parking garage that lined one side. The pavement was painted in thick strips of rainbow in some places, and red and gold in others.

Gryffindor loved their Lions. It almost made Remus want to cry, seeing how happy Sirius was. Half of the team was on their float, some of them walking beside. Remus spotted Logan sporting a rainbow brimmed hat walking with Kasey and returned the peace sign Logan sent up.

“Everyone is decked out, man,” James shouted in Remus’ ear from beside him, Harry on his hip. He and Lily had returned in time for Finn’s birthday. He was wearing a Lions Pride shirt, and Harry had a tiny one to match and a sunhat that practically covered his entire body that Lily kept coming over to adjust. James grinned. “Damn. Good Cup Day.”

“It’s not my Cup Day,” Remus laughed. “But I do sort of feel like this is my day.”

James just smiled, pointing at people for Harry to wave at. “Maybe won’t have to make that distinction next year, eh? Look, Har, see the flags? You want one, bud?”

“Re,” Sirius leaned in, and Remus felt his hand on his back. “Want to walk a bit?”

Remus nodded, eyes finding where Leo, Jackson, Evgeni, and Olli were walking together, keeping time with the floats and talking to the crowd. Leo had a rainbow flag painted on one cheek, Natalie’s work.

Remus felt for his own hat, flipping the colorful brim backwards as he hopped down.

“Hey,” Jackson grinned, throwing an arm around Remus’ shoulders. Evgeni had one of Sergei’s daughters in his arms, chatting with the crowd. He wasn’t wearing Jackson’s rainbow-striped shirt, but it looked like one of the kids had stuck two stickers on one of his cheeks that he wasn’t bothering removing. Remus wondered if he was worried, about his family, or his country, like he had told Sirius. It sent a wave of thankfulness through him, the fact that he was here.

“Nado,” Remus hugged Jackson. “Jesus, seriously, what did you do this summer? You look fit, man.”

“You see him,” Evgeni called over, handing a sharpie back to someone wrapped almost entirely in a flag covered with glitter. “Stare in the mirror, in love.”

“I don’t,” Jackson protested.

Evgeni just shrugged, spinning Sergei’s daughter around. “I’m see you.”

“Well, hand some over,” Remus said.

Jackson just gave him a shake. “You’re going to make the team.”

“Maybe,” Remus groaned out a laugh, knocking him away.

“No maybes,” Sirius said, sidling up to Remus’ side and replacing Jackson’s arm.

“Sirius! Cap!” someone called, and Remus felt Sirius tense a little, as he always did in crowds, or media.

The person calling had short brown hair and seemed to have tailored a loose jersey of Sirius’ into a form-fitting dress. The sleeves were cut and hemmed by the twelves on the sleeves.

“Salut!” they said, accent stiff, and laughed. “I tried.”

That seemed to ease Sirius a little, and Remus tugged him to a stop.

“Salut,” Sirius smiled. “Wow, that’s my jersey?”

They nodded, eyes sliding over to Remus. “It is. My girlfriend was hoping to have a Lupin one so we can match, but…”

The girl beside her, black hair tucked up in a bandana, smiled and threw her hands up. “When are they stocking those! I have two hundred bucks I’m ready to drop, I mean, let’s go before I second guess myself!”

Remus laughed. “Oh man, I’ve been there.”

“With my jersey, ouais?” Sirius grinned was teasing as he signed an autograph and Remus blushed.

“Here,” Sirius took out his phone. “You can give me your phone number, if you’re okay with it, and I’ll get you one? Yeah?”

“Oh…are you kidding?” the girl put a hand over her mouth. “Oh my God, I…yes, Cap, you can have my phone number, sure fucking thing.”

They moved along the crowd easily. Sirius grabbed the Cup at one point, walking it along for people to touch just as their entire team had in June. Remus stayed well away.

“No jinxes here,” an older man in a Lions Pride shirt laughed, his arm around his son. He held out his hand. “My entire family’s been Lions fans for generations. Glad to have you on the team.”

His son, the very image of his father, smiled and tentatively held out a sharpie. “Would you sign my shirt? I’ve seen your tapes and everything, I…you’re my favorite. I was thinking about getting out of hockey before you.”

Remus blinked. “I…” he took the sharpie, swallowing around the tightness in his throat. “I’m glad you’re staying. Are you a defenseman?”

He lit up. “How’d you know?”

Remus shrugged, smiling. “You hold yourself like one.”

“I hope that’s a good thing!” Remus heard Olli call from a little ways down.

He laughed. “How did you hear that?”

Remus signed the boy’s shirt, thanked him, and jogged a little to catch up with Sirius.

“I’ll take that,” Jackson grinned, and plucked the Cup from Sirius’ grasp.

“It’s my Cup Day!” Sirius laughed, but wrapped his arm around Remus instead. “Hi.”

“That was my first signature,” Remus said softly, to Sirius only, and Sirius squeezed his shoulders.

“The first of many.”

It was a bit of a blur after that. Natalie brought them ice cream and cold lemonade, which turned Sirius’ kisses even sweeter when they made it back home, out of the heat and stumbling, happy and sun-kissed. Sirius’ entrance hall was dark to Remus’ unadjusted eyes, and he focused on his palms, splayed over Sirius’ broad back. He yelped when a voice rang out from the living room.

“We’re on the couch!” Regulus shouted. “Just so you know!”

Sirius broke the kiss, looking flushed and dazed. “What…why?”

“I live here!” Regulus’ voice called back.

Remus suppressed a smile, and leaned his forehead against Sirius’ chest, trying to calm his breathing and any flush of arousal that had been beginning to stir up.

“Fuck,” Sirius swore. “How did he get home before us?”

“Who’s we?” Remus called out.

“Howdy,” Leo’s voice came.

Sirius sighed. “It’s my Cup Day.”

Remus gave his hip a short pat before walking down the hallway and rounding the corner to find Leo and Regulus slouched on the couch, AC on full blast.

“Right,” Remus nodded. “You’re suppose to be helping Reg pack for school.”

Regulus glanced up from his phone. “There’s twenty different gifs of you jumping down from the float and turning his hat backwards on Twitter.”

Remus blinked. “What?” He didn’t even remember doing that.

Leo nodded, crunching a potato chip. “And we’ve only been looking for ten minutes.”

“Huh,” Sirius said, turning towards the kitchen. He stopped, hesitated for a moment, and turned back. “Let me see.”

Remus huffed out a laugh. “I need water.”

“Donne-moi!” Sirius demanded of Regulus, grabbing for his phone.

“You have your own phone!” Remus made out Regulus’ reply in French.

Remus filled his glass, downed in, and was filling it again when Leo came into the kitchen, rolling his eyes and smiling.

“Thought I’d leave the brothers to fight. Can’t believe I used to be scared of both of them.”

Remus laughed, too. “Right?”

Remus watched Leo grab a glass, spinning his own slowly around on the counter. “Are you…”

Leo glanced up. “Hm?”

Remus took a breath. “Tell me if I’m overstepping, but I know today must’ve been a little…” he took his hat off, the colorful bill bright against the dark stone of the counter.

Leo nodded in understanding, sliding onto a stool. “It wasn’t…hard. It was actually good to see all of the support. I could see it in Finn and Logan, too. Logan is nervous.” He nodded to himself. “More nervous than me and Finn. Understandably. I mean, you know how long he and Finn…” Leo shook his head. “I was happy he got to see that. And Finn was happy, I know, too. Maybe we’ll start making plans. I mean, this summer was just fucking heaven. Just being together. Like, I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy.”

“Me too,” Remus sat on the stool beside him. They smiled at each other, then laughed. “I’m happy for you guys.”

“I am, too,” Leo grinned. “All right, I think me and Reg have to actually put his clothes in suitcases now.”

“Good luck.”

“That boy owns, like, five t-shirts,” Leo drained his glass and put it in the sink. “Shouldn’t be too hard.”

Remus grabbed a third glass and followed Leo back into the living room where they found Sirius leaning over the back of the couch, squinting at Regulus’ phone. He did a double take when he spotted Remus.

“Hey, where’s your hat?”

Remus snorted. “I’m not a twitter gif. C’mon, I need a shower.”

Regulus raised a teasing eyebrow. “And you need him for that?”

Remus stuck out his tongue. “Yeah.”

Sirius flicked the back of Regulus’ head. “Go pack.”

Remus tugged his t-shirt off on their way up the stairs. “That was wonderful, but fuck do I wish it wasn’t a thousand degrees.”

“I don’t know,” came Sirius’ reply from behind him as they entered their bedroom, followed by his hands on Remus’ hips and his lips against his neck. “When it’s hot, your hair sticks to your neck just…” he kissed just by Remus’ ear gently. “Here.”

Remus bit back a smile. “With sweat.”

“It’s handsome, I think.”

Remus laughed, turning in Sirius’ arms. He was summer tan and happy. Remus didn’t think he’d ever get tired of seeing that grin, one that was more and more present lately. Sirius laughed and made small talk with fans who asked for pictures—even today, he had seemed to almost enjoy the crowds and the media. Remus touched his number twelve necklace. He brought it to his lips. “You’re handsome.”

They stepped into the shower together and stood in the peace and quiet of the beating down water, turned cool against their heated skin. Remus rested his head against Sirius’ chest, and smiled when he felt Sirius lace their fingers together. It wasn’t exactly a new thing anymore, but it still felt new. It had been that way when James, Lily, and Harry had first arrived home and Sirius had done it on the table between them at the restaurant, just as it had been early in June, when Sirius had done it while they waiting in line to board their plane.

Remus looked up, squeezing his hand, and Sirius bent to take Remus’ mouth against his own again. It was softer, but Remus felt just as giddy from the day’s events. A parade. A Cup Day.

He wanted one of his own.

“Love you, mon loup,” he smiled. “Thank you for today.”

Remus ran his hand over Sirius’ broad shoulders. “I didn’t do anything.”

“You did everything,” Sirius whispered back. “You are part of me allowing myself things.”

Remus felt his expression soften.

“Heather explained it that way,” Sirius said. “I thought it was well put.”

Heather, the team’s sports psychiatrist. Remus had only actually met her a few times, but Sirius valued her highly, had called her a few times during the off season.

“I like it, too,” he said, and let Sirius pull him close again.

They threw the windows open to let the cooling breeze in once they were back downstairs, and Sirius put steaks on the grill for the two of them.

“Where’d Reg and Nut go?” Sirius asked.

“I think out with some of the boys,” Remus said, and followed as Sirius went back out to the patio. He notched his hip against the door frame. “Hey, do you want to go to the rink tomorrow? All this Cup talk has got me wanting to skate, like, now.”

Sirius tilted his head back and laughed. “With you? Always.”

Remus grinned and padded back over to the counter where the salad was waiting for dressing.

“I’m glad we didn’t end up having everyone over,” Remus said as he tossed it. “As much as I love them.”

Sirius hummed, sliding the screen door of the deck closed. He set the plate and tongs down before wrapping his arms around Remus.

“As much as I love them,” he repeated quietly, lips brushing against Remus’ neck. “I want you all to myself right now.”

Remus leaned back against him. “My thoughts exactly, baby.”

Sirius smiled against his skin. “Glad we’re on the same page. Vanilla hater.”

Remus pinched his arm. “Pineapple hater.”

~

Cole woke up to the smell of bacon and eggs wafting down to his room from the kitchen—and Katie Dumais curled up at the foot of his bed.

He jumped a little, and then sat up slowly. It took him a moment to realize that she wasn’t asleep, but that she was fiddling with a little charm bracelet, her eyes down.

He cleared his throat. “Uh, hi, Katie.”

She looked up, and a grin lit up her face. “Mom says breakfast is ready. I didn’t want to wake you up, even though she told me to.”

He sat up a little more. “How long ago was that?”

Katie wrinkled her nose. “Maybe four hours?”

Cole blinked, and picked up his phone from his nightstand. It was eight-thirty. He glanced back at Katie.

“Can you tell time?” he asked slowly.

“Not really,” she sighed happily, and kept fiddling with her bracelet. “You still have rainbow paint on your face.”

Cole laughed, rubbing a hand over his cheek, where Lily Potter had painted a flag the day before, for the parade. Where the Stanley Cup had been.

It still all felt surreal to say.

“Okay. Um, tell her I’ll be up in a second, okay?”

Katie nodded. “Okay!”

Cole listened to her footsteps scamper all the way up the stairs before he flopped back down on his pillows and chuckled to himself. He gave his teeth a quick brush and followed.

“Bon matin,” Celeste smiled as she flipped a few more pieces of bacon onto a plate. “How did you sleep? I think that heat yesterday tired everyone out.”

Cole slid onto a stool beside Marc and Louis, Katie to his right. “Really good, thanks.”

“The air conditioner isn’t acting up again?” Celeste asked. “Logan was always having trouble with that thing.”

“It didn’t turn on right away, but I fixed it,” Cole smiled when she set a steaming plate of eggs, bacon and fruit in front of him, and then another plate with toast. “My mom’s big with her tool kit, so, I mean, if you ever need anything around the house, I know some stuff. Just so I can…help out. Thank you for letting me stay.”

Celeste beamed. “Oh, sweetheart, we’re not just letting you stay. We’re very happy you’re here. Someone your age shouldn’t be alone, especially with all the pressure that comes with this job. But I will absolutely take you up on that. You wouldn’t know how to build me some planters, would you? Pascal bought the wood ages ago,” she turned back to the sink, waving a spatula. “Always saying he will take care of it, and yet there it sits!”

Cole laughed softly. “Yeah, I can do that. Sounds good.”

“Well, good,” Celeste smiled, pulling her purse over her shoulder. “Now, Pascal is with Sergei for an ice session—which you’re always invited to, he says, by the way—I’m taking Louis to tennis, and Marc to space camp. Layla will be here soon, but do you mind looking after Katie until she gets here? Adele’s up in her room if you have any questions. She’ll know.”

Cole nodded, trying to swallow the eggs quickly. “Of course. No problem.”

Celeste smiled. “She loves you enough already, she’ll be no trouble.”

“She’s always trouble,” Louis mumbled.

Celeste tisked, but kissed his head. “Come on, up. Cole, you have some of the boys’ numbers, too, right?”

“Um,” Cole thought of Sirius Black’s number in his phone from when he called him. “Yes?”

“Good. I know you don’t have a car yet, and you’re always welcomed to ours when it’s available, but if you ever need a ride anywhere, I’m sure any one of them will drive you.”

Cole, for the life of him, didn’t think he would ever be able to bring himself to call Sirius Black up and ask him to drive him to, what, Target? Jesus.

“Right,” Cole tried for a smile and knew it came out nervous. “Thanks.”

Katie did turn out to be a pretty easy kid. Even if she did seem to switch activities at a rapid pace. She drew, and then she watched half of a TV show, and then she was hungry, but she did all of it herself. After less than 30 minutes she had parked both of them on the couch where they were stringing beads for necklaces.

“I’ll make you Lions colors,” she said seriously.

That had been Cole’s best—and only—idea. He glanced at the multi-colored kit. “What colors do you want?”

“Surprise me.”

Cole smiled. “All right. What’s your charm bracelet?” He nodded to the small silver ring around her wrist.

“It’s from Tremzy,” Katie thrust her wrist forward. “He gets me one every one of my birthdays. There’s a hockey stick, because we love hockey, and an ice cream cone, because we love ice cream, and this is a book because we read together, and—”

There was the ding that told Cole that Layla had arrived, coming in from the garage, and Katie was off again.

“Hi,” Cole said, leaning against the kitchen doorframe.

Layla looked up from trying to put her things down and hug Katie at the same time. “Hey, Cole.”

“How’s it going?” Cole asked, feeling decidedly more prepared this time. Layla was in a green tank-top today, but her same shorts and gold rings.

“Busy,” she laughed. “I actually have my first orientation this evening, at the rink.”

Cole nodded. “Nice. I’ve never actually been inside. Well, not yet, I guess.”

Layla straightened at that. “Well…I’m driving over once Celeste gets home, just to see the place first.” She seemed to take a breath. “Do you want to come with?”

~

They didn’t have full gear, but the chilled rink was a relief against the sweat they worked up anyway. Remus borrowed a helmet—his own hadn’t been sent out yet—and used his old, worn in CCM skates.

“I can still beat you in these,” Remus panted as he skated backwards, tapping the puck back and forth and trying to gauge which way Sirius was going to dodge first.

“Oh, I know,” Sirius said, then lifted his right foot and went left.

Remus knocked the puck out of his stick towards the boards, and it sent them both chasing it.

“You use that trick too much!” Remus laughed, it echoing across the empty rink, as he shoved Sirius against the glass, the puck trapped between his skate blade and the foot of the boards.

“What about this one?” Sirius said, and turned to press their mouths together. Remus smiled into it, and it was enough to allow Sirius to steal the puck back.

“No!” Remus laughed as Sirius carried the puck expertly across the blue line, winding his stick up and taking a deadly slap shot, notching it perfectly in the upper left corner of the empty goal.

He dropped to a knee, sliding into a celebration before wrapping around the goal with a final whoop and crashing back into Remus for another kiss.

“Wanna run plays?” Sirius asked. “I’ll be your center if you’ll be my winger.”

Remus smiled as they reset themselves, pushing the used pucks towards the boards. “That might not happen.”

“Maybe I have more pull than you think.”

Remus raised an eyebrow. “Not that much, baby. What’s going to happen is I’ll start on the fourth line, go from there. Anything else and every journalist in the city would go batshit crazy.”

Sirius just scooped another puck into the goal, then hooked his arms over his stick, the body behind his neck. “Wouldn’t be our first time causing that.”

Remus smiled. “True.” He nudged Sirius towards center ice. “Face-off.”

Sirius took his helmet off to push his hair back. “Let’s do it.”

Remus was just tugging off his shirt, smiling as he listened to Sirius rattle of plans for the season, when he heard two voices laughing from the hallway. Sirius’ smile dropped, and he narrowed his eyes at the door.

“Don’t know,” Sirius said. “Hey, where are we meeting the guys for—”

“Should we check out the locker room?” one of the outside voices said—higher. “Do you think it’s open?”

“Non,” Sirius mumbled under his breath, grabbing for the back of his own shirt.

The door opened hesitantly at first, then wider, revealing Layla and Cole.

Cole flushed, and Layla’s mouth opened, then closed.

“Oh my god,” she said. “Sorry, we didn’t think…”

Remus glanced at Sirius, but when he didn’t say anything, just pretending to fiddle grumpily with his bag, he waved them off.

“Hey, we were just swinging by for a quick skate. It’s not our locker room,” he smiled. “Well, not only ours. You guys have the same idea?”

“Not skating, maybe,” Layla replied, twisting one of her braids around her finger. She looked up at Cole, who still looked like he thought he was in the wrong place, and smiled. “But neither of us have really gotten to look around yet, so, we thought we would.”

Remus smiled, using his dirty t-shirt to wipe sweat from his brow. “Nice. Well, maybe Cap and I can give you a tour or something some time.”

Sirius glanced up. “Marls does that.”

Remus tried to send Sirius a look with his eyes, but Sirius just glanced mournfully towards what Remus thought might be the video review room.

“Well…” Remus said hesitantly.

“We’ll keep looking around,” Layla said quickly. “See you guys around.”

Remus watched them to make sure the door was closed, then turned and punched Sirius in the arm.

“Quoi?” Sirius asked.

“Grumpy.”

“I liked it just us,” Sirius mumbled. “I thought we could plan plays or—or watch tape.”

Remus laughed, pressing his forehead to Sirius’ chest. “You’re such a baby.”

One corner of Sirius’ mouth raised. “So?”

“You wanted the rookie to stop making moon eyes at you,” Remus said. “Here’s your chance.”

“D’accord,” Sirius’ grin spread as he gathered Remus closer by his hips. “But will you keep making moon eyes at me?”

Remus leaned up for a gentle kiss. “I’m going to ask them to lunch. Wait here, Captain, you scare the rookie.”

“I don’t,” Sirius sighed, and Remus pushed out the locker room door.

“Hey,” Remus jogged to catch up as Cole and Layla turned at his voice. “Us and some of the other guys are planning to get lunch. How about it? You, too, Layla.”

Layla blinked. “Seriously?”

Remus laughed. “Team lunch isn’t a team lunch without the PT. Or, one of them, at least.”

Layla grinned. “Right. Well, I’d love to.”

Cole nodded quickly. “I—yeah. Yeah, cool. That rooftop place again?”

“You’re already picking up on team favorites, I see.”

Cole smiled sheepishly. “Kuny makes us go there every time.”

“It’s the sushi,” Remus laughed. “He’s a man obsessed. Well, cool. Meet you there in twenty?”

Layla jingled her keys. “See you there.”

“Sushi,” Evgeni all but moaned as he picked up a piece of yellowtail.

“Jesus, Kuns,” Jackson said. “You can’t eat all of that by yourself.”

Evgeni was chewing with his eyes closed. “You don’t know.”

“All right,” Thomas leaned forward, folding his sunglasses into his shirt in the shade of their umbrella. “What do we think this season, boys? Predictions, let me hear them.”

They all looked to Sirius first, who leaned back in his chair, one arm over the back of Remus’. He took a sip of his iced tea.

“Rangers,” he said finally.

“Uh-huh,” James nodded.

“Same,” Layla said, taking a spoonful of her miso soup.

“Caps, maybe,” Sirius continued.

“Definitely,” Remus said.

“I’m feeling Avs?” Thomas offered. “And I don’t want to say Snakes, but…yuck.”

“More like Vegas,” Remus said.

The table paused, and Remus just shook his head.

“It’s true,” he said, glancing at Cole and Layla, trying to decide if they’d noticed the shift in the air. He had to be able to talk about this. About him. "They’re deep this year.”

“Yeah,” Cole said softly. “Greyback’s killer.”

Remus felt the entire table tense and felt immediately guilty. Cole didn’t know what he had said, and Remus all but watched him wonder if he’d said something wrong.

“And us,” Thomas grinned, slapping Cole on the back. “We’ve got Lupin now. We’ve got Reyes.”

Remus rolled his eyes, but laughed. He tried to express his thanks silently, and Thomas winked at him.

This felt different. He had known it would. Team dinners would be his dinners now, not a friendly tag-along invite. Driving to practice with Sirius, they would go through almost the same routine, not split off for his office and the locker room. These were his teammates. He’d win and lose with them, and they with him, in a way they hadn’t before. Sitting there, in the sunshine that was going to turn colder, Remus looked forward to a year of this.

[divinefireangel]

Scream Princess

SF9 Jaeyoon x F! Reader Smut.

YES I USED THIS GIF ON PURPOSE 😈

Disclaimer: This is just a work of fiction. If this piece of fan fiction is offensive to any celebrity, fandom or culture please let me know so I can take it down. Also note that this is my version of a character or celeb, which will vary from person to person.

Author's Note: Listen. I fucking hate frat boys okay 😂. So this was easy to write cause Jae is hot and I'll do anything for him 🥰 This is the longest fic I've written so far. And I'm proud. I hope you like it anon! I have to warn you, I didn't include the choking sadly 😔 slipped my mind. But I still hope it lives up to expectations 🥺.

Copyright: Please note that this is my work and if you want to publish this on any other platform, take my permission before doing so. Taking an author's work and posting it somewhere else without any intimation is just disrespectful. I readily welcome suggestions and criticisms. That being said, Happy reading! 🤍

Warnings: 18+ ages and female readers (nothing specified with respect to appearance, etc of reader). Fuck buddies/enemies to lovers. We live for that cute shit. Rough sex. Mentions of blowjobs. Fingering (f receiving). Jae calls reader 'princess', just incase I wasn't clear. And it's smut, so your typical smut warnings. Nothing overboard don't worry. But do let me know if I need to add something more. Not proof read. Excuse the errors.

Requested: Yes! By a lovely anon 🖤

frat! boy jaeyoon and you have a love hate relationship. you love him when he chokes u and calls u princess, hate him every other second. maybe he gets so jealous at a party seeing u play pong w someone else that he takes u upstairs to make u not hate him and to let everyone else youre his.

2.8k Words ;)

It was a simple arrangement. When either of you are horny, you fuck. And the rest of the time, you pretend he doesn't exist. Ugh how you hate fratboys. But Jaeyoon is hot. You gotta give him that. And he works out a lot which is very much seen on him and the way he tosses your around when you fuck.

Sex with him is just so fulfilling. He'll give you everything you want. The passion. The speed, always fast. The way his tongue always makes you so hot. Just thinking about it makes you wet. The way he stares at you with so much hateful fire that you mirror, when he's so deep in you. The bruises he leaves when he grips you so tight you can't escape from under him. The soreness you feel after every session of sexual entanglement is just delicious. You hate it.

But what you enjoy most is how he calls you 'princess' while fucking your guts out. The rest of the time, you can't tolerate his existence. It makes you wanna roll your eyes so hard they might get stuck. You hate his playboy manners, the way he always acts like he's so cool cause he's a part of the most popular fraternity on campus. You hate how he's so cocky and acts like every girl walking would just drop their panties if he told them to. You hate that he thinks he's better than everyone. You hate him, so much.

And so here you are, at one of his frat parties, as much as you didn't want to be here. Even after insisting that you're busy and don't want to go to the party, your friends and roommates didn't buy your excuses, stating that you need to get a boyfriend or at least get laid. Oh if only they knew. Standing in the corner of the lawn, a red solo cup with disgusting beer in your hand, you stare cringingly at the mess of hot bodies grinding against each other, desperate for god knows what. Yep. You are definitely not attending another such, event.

" Hey you busy? " A voice asked.

Looking to your right, then left you notice a cute guy, who was clearly looking at you. Blinking you look at him with a blank expression. What's he playing at, you wonder.

" Oh right sorry. I'm Youngbin. We're playing Beer Pong and we're a player short and you are standing here by yourself so I thought you could join us. If you want to, of course. No pressure. " He said flaying his hands around innocently.

Well you do have nothing to do right now, might as well follow the cute guy. Who knows, he may ask you out.

" Yeah sure! I'd love to. I'm Y/N, by the way. "

" Ah. Nice to meet you. Are you a freshman? "

" Sophmore actually. "

" Oh nice. I'm a senior. A few freshmen students are still underage, gotta be careful you know. "

" Oh yeah I get it. But you should know that they are at times wilder than us. " Giggling at your words, he leads you towards the table, finally reaching.

" Oh great you found someone. I'm Zuho. " Another cute guy said. Wow you were really gonna miss out if you'd stayed in your room.

" Y/N. " You said as you shook his hand.

" Okay so it's 3 versus 3. You guys start. " Zuho said to the collective mass, starting the game. Winning a few, and losing a lot of ping-pong balls, you were finally happy. A little tipsy, but still sober enough to do a math problem, you continued to play the game, now having more players on each team. Surprisingly, you were good at the game and not so surprisingly, you started to get close to Youngbin. Slight lingering touches on your arm, your waist and the tingle that went down your body when he moved you hair so you could focus on bouncing the ball. Maybe the ball wouldn't be the only thing that would be bouncing soon.

" YO YOUNGBIN! " A booming voice called. Oh no. You knew this voice. You knew it really well. Begrudgingly you turned to look at none other than Lee Jaeyoon. Of course the fucker is here. He's at every party, trying to hook up with random girls who all seem to be interested in him.

Staring at you intently as he hugged Youngbin, You wished the ground will open up and swallow you whole. Why was he here. You were having so much fun. Well who says you can't have fun with him right here, staring at you like you were a piece of candy. Yeah nope. Time to go home. Vibing with the music, you slowly start to step back as everyone at the pong table started to talk to Jaeyoon. After stepping far enough, you turn on your heel, ready to strint away. Feeling someone grab your wrist, you're turned around with so much force you crash into a hard chest, hands going to his shoulders to stabilize yourself. Looking to see who stopped you, you're met with a cocky smirk, adorning the face of, well you guessed it.

" Where are going? I thought you were having fun so I came to join you. And you decide to leave without telling me? I'm hurt princess. " He says, the smirk only getting bigger as your blood boils with rage. This fucker. If given a chance to wipe out someone's existence completely, you'd choose him.

" Yeah well. Since you're here, it won't be fun anymore. "

" Oh is that how it is? "

Nodding yes, you step away from him, crossing your arms as you try to look tall next to his broad, tree like, super climbable figure. Stop it. Don't think of him like that. Not now at least.

Running his tongue on the inside of him cheek, he looks down at you. He looks hot. And angry?

" Well princess, I'm hurt. Right here. " Pointing at his chest, he moves closer to you. Breath hitching, you stare at him wide eyed, as his face comes to your eye level.

" You seemed to have forgotten out arrangement princess. "

What is he talking about. Was he drunk? Sniffing, you check if he was drunk. He wasn't. Which is shocking. Grabbing your upper arms and pulling you near with his hands, his lips move to your ear.

" I'm not happy with the way you were getting so close to Youngbin. You shouldn't do that when you have me. "

" Excuse me. What. " You say, breaking free from his grip. Looking at him, your face screams, 'Are you crazy'. Well someone should.

" What the fuck do you mean ' you're not happy'. Last I checked, I'm a free independent woman, who is single, and would very much like a cute caring boyfriend AND who doesn't just wish to be someone's fuck-buddy. So if you may, I'd like to go ask out Youngbin. " Smiling bitterly, you try to make your way around Jaeyoon, only to be grabbed by the wrist and pulled back into Jaeyoon's muscular chest.

Glaring at you, he starts to walk towards his room, a path you aren't new to, as his grip on your wrist tightens, pulling you with him. Entering the room, he pushes you in, then locks it. Stumbling, you grab his chair so you don't fall. What. The. Actual. Fuck.

" What in the actual HELL is wrong with you! What the fuck dude. Why are you acting like this all of a sudden? Is it cause I was actually happy flirting with Youngbin? Last I checked, I don't belong to anyone. And especially not to you. So don't go around acting like you're my boyfriend because you aren't. And don't at all act like you care about me because the whole wide freakin world knows that you care about no one but yourself. So move, before I kick you so hard you'll have to go the hospital. " To say you were angry would be so wrong. You were furious. His existence infuriates you.

" I like you. "

" What? " Is he for real? Manipulation? Really?

" I'm not trying to manipulate you. I really do like you. And I wasn't happy seeing you get touchy with one of my friends. " Is he a mind reader or something? Probably. I mean he does know what you want when you just whine and writhe under him as he pleasures- Wait no! Stop.

" Why tell me now? " You ask calmly, well as calm as you could get without letting your guard down.

" Because... I don't know okay! I just, I just couldn't stand there as he got close to you. When it could've been.... Well could be me.... " He said slowly. You've never seen him so, vulnerable. He looks like a sad puppy.

" I'm sorry but, are you sure? " Chewing on your lower lip, you wait for him to reply. How can he like so suddenly. It's not natural right?

" I am. I really like you. And I want you to be my strong independent girlfriend. I want to take you out on a date. A real one. Many dates. Please just give me a chance. You won't regret it. " Taking your hand in his, he rubs his thumbs over your knuckles. Dramatically, you life your eyes up, only to find him looking at you with puppy eyes. Nodding your head slowly, you swallow. Breaking a grin on his face, he places your hands on his wide shoulders as he connects your lips for the first time this evening, his hands wandering from your waist to your hips.

" Oh baby. I'll make sure you never regret this decision. " And with that he places his hands on your ass, tapping it so you jump in his arms. Obliging, you connect your lips again, wanting to feel them melt against yours as you process what's happening. Placing your on the table, he removes yours and his jackets, throwing them on the floor somewhere. Moving close to your seated figure, his hands find themselves on your neck, tilting your face up to kiss you again and again till you're both out of air in your lungs. He slowly grinds his hips to your front, your knees going around his hips as your hands tug at his shirt.

Stepping back he removes his shoes and shirt, exposing his well toned chest and abs to you. Removing your footwear and freeing your hair, you beckon him to come to you as you bite your lip seductively. Smirking, he obeys you, coming as close to you as you want. Lips meet your neck, one hand to your hair, pulling it till your head tilts back exposing the flesh on your neck to him, his other hand wandering up under your top. Hunching it in your palms, you remove your top as he wastes no time to undo your bra, freeing your breasts to the cool air of the room.

Kissing down your body, his lips latch on to your left nipple, hand toying and twisting the other. Arching your body into his face, you grab his hair, pulling it like you always do. Releasing your nipple with a pop, he begins to undo his belt with one hand. Raising his free hand to your head, he advances in your direction till your chests meet, skin to skin, heat to heat, and lips meet once more.

Without breaking the kiss, he discards his pants, leaving him in boxers. Wrapping his arm around your waist, he lifts you up moving the two for you to his bed. Gently he puts you on the matress, hands finding the button of your jeans, undoing it and pulling them down your legs. Staring in your eyes he bites his lip, freeing it sexily he leans his face down to your neck, kissing, biting and marking you with little lovebites.

Rotating your head to the opposite side you gasp when you feel his fingers rub your folds over your panties. Lifting your upper body off the bed slightly your hands grab hold of his wrist that's on your needy mound. Keeping them there you begin to grind yourself on his fingers, releasing breathy moans of constricting pleasure.

" Fuck princess, you look so hot grinding yourself against me. Let me take care of that for you. " He whispers on your ear, chills travelling down your body reaching just where you need him. Letting go of his wrist, you grab onto his shoulders, pulling him down to kiss him again. Moaning in his mouth when he moves your panties to a side with his fingers, touching your wet pussy. Groaning at how wet you are, he easily slips in two fingers in your hole, pumping them slowly. Breaking the kiss you curse at the feeling of his thick digits moving along your entrance.

" Oh fuck. Yes- Please don't stop " You gasp when he touches your g-spot with his fingertips at the same time his thumb finds your clit. Increasing the pace of his fingers, he presses his nose on your cheek, breathing out ragged breaths as he grinds his dick to the matress at your moans. Roughly he rubs your clit pulling out as you cry in protest, feeling empty. Opening your eyes at the loss of warmth above you, you feel his hands pulling your panties down your legs, noticing his hard length, tip so red he would probably cum if your wrapped your mouth around him. Ripping open the condom, he rolls it on his cock, forcefully making your lay on your back as he enters you whole. Crying out at feeling so full with his dick deep in your pussy, you arch your back adjusting to his thick length. Slipping an arm below you when you do so, he licks your lower lip, biting it and pulling at it.

Drawing his hips back just a little, he slowly starts to ease himself in you, body rocking against yours, hair falling down on your forehead, hands grabbing your waist to keep you in place. Pressing your fingers into his back you chant his name, encouraging him to go further and faster. Being the mind reader he is, he pulls out almost whole, before ramming his cock in as fast as he can. Screaming out in pleasant surprise you hug him tighter, allowing him to go faster and faster till you lose your voice.

" Princess. You're so tight around me. Yes baby, scream my name " He growls in your ear deeply, the coil in your stomach getting tighter with each thrust, feeling full till your stomach every time his dick is balls deep. And feeling just as empty when he drags out. Your hole stretched out to accommodate his thick girth, making you think it might tear open. Jaeyoon is driving his cock in and out of you so rapidly you can feel you juices leaking out of your pussy, drawing you closer to your orgasm.

" Jae. I'm gonna- I'm close " You warn him, wanting to cum undone together.

" Yeah baby me too, fucking scream my name for me princess. Please I need you to. Scream princess! " Rubbing your clit, he freezes at sensation of your walls closing around his dick just as tightly as your legs close around his hips. Screaming his name out so loudly, your body jerks and squirms shamelessly as you cum on his cock, squeezing his till he's dumbfolded above you and helplessly cums in the condom.

Falling on top of you gently, he catches his breath, chest heaving heavily as you slowly unclench your legs and pussy, also catching your breath, enjoying your post orgasm euphoria. Whimpering when he pulls out, your body convulses around air, still not over your high. Blinking your eyes, you close them slowly, feeling tired out due to the mind blowing orgasm you just had.

Feeling a damp cloth on your sore folds, you open you eyes unwillingly, looking at your 'boyfriend' who's cleaning you up. And who has already worn sweats. Going back to the bathroom, he throws the towel in the laundry basket, returning to the room and handing you one of his shirts and clean boxers. Shyly you put on the clothes given to you.

" Oh don't go all shy on my now when you were just screaming my name a few minutes ago. " He says laughing. Blushing you wait till he comes to sit behind you, laptop in one hand.

" Wait what about the party? " You ask, wondering why he's switching on his laptop.

" Eh. It's just another party. And I have you here now. You're all the party I'll ever need. " Pulling you close by your waist, he makes you sit between his legs, covering your legs with his comforter. Throwing a pillow on top of the comforter, he places the laptop on it, playing a newly released movie. Nuzzling into your neck, he pulls you closer and wraps his arms around your frame as you both started your first binge session.

[pascalpanic]

The Graveyard Shift (Frankie Morales x gn!reader)

Summary: Frankie works overnight shifts at the local mechanic. Tonight, both of you are awake at a late hour.

W/C: 2.3k

Warnings: language, food and eating, talk of not being able to sleep, otherwise fluff

A/N: this idea has been in my head all week I had to! Hope you like it :)

Frankie may be a real insomniac, but tonight you’re feeling like he might have rubbed off on you. Your bed is normally your favorite place, your haven and escape from life. It’s a place to rest and cuddle your teddy bear of a boyfriend, where you can close your eyes and let go of reality.  Unfortunately, that glorious disconnect from reality isn’t finding you tonight. You toss and turn in your bed for what feels like hours. Who knows how long it really is?

You try laying on your side. On your back. On your stomach. Legs sprawled out, with no Frankie in the bed to occupy your space. Still, nothing is comfortable. You’re cold without the blankets and hot with them on. The pillows are flat or too squishy. Nothing works.

Frankie’s on the night shift tonight, leaving your bed empty enough for you to toss and turn. Your boyfriend works as a mechanic at a local 24-hour garage, and every week or so he takes the overnight shift. It’s just part of the job. Of course, you don’t mind; he does what he has to. The only downside is the chill in your bed where Frankie’s warm body usually lies.

You try to avoid your phone, checking your alarm clock for the time rather than looking at the blue light and messing up any more chances you have at sleep. But then an hour progresses, and another, and now it’s 1:20 in the morning and sleep is nowhere to be found. You give in and check your phone, sighing.

Frankie can’t possibly be busy. The shop rarely ever gets a car after the sun sets, but it’s worth it to be the only shop in the area open at night. It means more business when someone’s in desperate need. You know he’s awake, and the odds of a car being in the shop now are slim. Maybe talking with him will help you fall asleep.

Deciding to give it a shot, you call his phone. It rings for a few moments, then continues and finally you reach his voicemail, hearing his gentle voice announcing that he’ll call you right back. You frown and set it down only for the phone to ring again. It’s him.

“Hey, babe,” Frankie’s voice speaks through the phone. He sounds tired. Well, you suppose it’s natural. It’s late at night, even if Frankie is practically nocturnal. “Sorry. My hands were covered in grease so I had to wash them before I picked up. Is everything okay?”

“Yeah, everything’s good,” you inform him, your voice groggy from the lack of sleep you’ve found despite hours of lying here. “Just can’t sleep. How’s work?”

You can hear a metallic clanking as he moves some tools around. “Fine. Just a usual night shift, working on this car that’s an absolute piece of shit. Got oil all over myself.”

The thought makes you smile; Frankie’s grumpy face when something goes wrong, the sigh of exasperation as those dark blue coveralls are stained dark with the car’s oil. “Good job, babe.”

Frankie is rolling his eyes on the other end. You can tell. “Really great job, yeah. How are things at home?”

“Same here. Nothing exciting. Just… can’t sleep and missing you.”

“Missing you too. God, it’s so boring here,” he groans. “I’ll finish this car pretty damn quick then have nothing to do all night. And I’m so goddamn hungry.”

Your eyes light up with an idea and you’re silent as you ponder the idea, long enough for Frankie to be concerned. “What is it?”

“Can I come visit you?” You ask him, a grin crossing your sleepy face. Your eyes are still shut from the weight they carry right now, but your face is clearly happy. “I’ll bring food.

There’s a frown on his face; that much you know for certain. “Babe, it’s late. You should sleep.”

“Francisco, for the love of God. I’m awake right now because I can’t fall asleep. Would you mind a visitor?”

He sighs but you know you’ve won. It makes you smile even wider as you clutch a pillow to your chest. He can barely get the words out before you interrupt. “Great! What are you hungry for?”

There’s another beat of quiet as he thinks. “Let’s order a pizza.”

Late night pizza: Frankie’s biggest weakness besides you. “Perfect. You put in the order and I’ll be there soon. I love you, baby.”

“Love you too. See you then.” Frankie hangs up.

No one else will be around. You know Frankie works these late shifts alone, so you don’t bother to put on anything nicer. Pushing back the covers and bracing for the chill, you stand and slide on a pair of shoes, allowing your pajamas to suffice.

The air is cold as you leave your shared home, and at the last second you grab one of Frankie’s flannels and wrap yourself in it. The night air is chilly around you, the dark sky contrasting the bright lights as you turn on your car. Teeth chattering from the cold, and turning down the air conditioning in your car, you set out on your route to Frankie’s workplace.

There’s no one else on the road besides a spare car or two flying past, neglecting to turn off their high beams for you. It doesn’t matter; if anything, it wakes you up more. When you finally park outside of the building, you rub your eyes desperately hard in hopes of waking yourself up more. It doesn’t really work, but you pretend it does as you pocket your keys and walk inside.

“Hi, I’m here for an oil change?” You call out teasingly into the large garage, entering through an open bay.

Frankie rolls out from beneath a car on a dolley, eyes lighting up at the sight of you. “Don’t even bring that up now.” He sits up, removes his earbuds, and unsnaps the top half of his coveralls, taking off the top half and tying it around his waist. He removes his gloves and meets you halfway into the garage, kissing you softly and laughing as the brim of his hat bumps against your forehead. “Hey, cutie.”

“Hi,” you beam, kissing him once more. “You look hot in this. Very Danny Zuko.”

“Mhm, and this piece of shit is Greased Lightning,” he laughs and pats the hood of the car he was previously beneath. It’s ugly, brown in color and rusted with a grungy looking interior. “I don’t know why they don’t just scrap this thing. It’s not worth the money.”

Your arms remain wrapped around Frankie’s middle, resting your head against his shoulder as you admire the crappy car. “Honestly, I gotta agree,” you laugh and nudge his side so the two of you can move closer to a workbench. “Here.” You offer him the crappy blanket you brought to sit on. “Tell me the best place to set up.”

“Right here, really,” Frankie shrugs and unfolds the blanket, laying it down over the oil-stained concrete. “You get comfortable. I’ll go put on a clean pair of coveralls.” He kisses your head as you sit cross-legged on the blanket, pulling his flannel tighter around yourself. “And stop stealing my clothes!” He calls over his shoulder before retreating into the back.

“You know you love it!” You shout back with a laugh, leaning against the side of the beat-up car.

Out of nowhere, the radio in the shop starts playing. It’s loud, making you jump at the sound of the KISS song that starts blasting. With that, Frankie returns from the back, wearing a clean pair of blue coveralls with that embroidered Catfish patch over his heart. His curls peek out from beneath his cap, and he scratches at the scruff of his beard. “Way to scare the shit out of me!”

“Sorry,” he laughs, adjusting the volume back down from the garage control before making his way over to you. “Just thought we could use some music.”

“I guess,” you grumble, though it’s clear there’s no ill will when he sits next to you and you nuzzle into his side, sighing as he drapes his arm across your shoulders. “Didn’t have to freak me out like that though.”

“Yeah, yeah,” he laughs and kisses your head, leaning back against the car too and letting his head fall back.

No sooner do the two of you get comfortable, nestled into each other’s arms and taking a breath of relaxation, is there a knock at the glass. It’s the pizza delivery, a guy who looks exhausted, just like most normal people would be at this hour. “Be right back.” Frankie kisses your nose and stands, groaning as his joints creak and his back pops.

“Grandpa.” You tease with a grin.

“Stuff it.”

He pays for the order, giving the delivery guy a generous tip for delivering food at this hour of night. Frankie returns with the box and you shimmy in happiness as he opens the box and the smell of the pizza wafts out of the cardboard.

Frankie pulls over a rolling dolley to set the food on, at least somewhat like a table. “Your fine dining experience, my love,” he chuckles as he sets down the box and a stack of napkins next to it. He sits across from you, once again groaning as he makes himself sit cross-legged to match you.

Taking a hold of the crust, you pull out a large slice, the cheese pulling from the center of the pizza. Sighing happily, you tear the cheese apart and pile it on top of the fully-topped pizza, complete with Frankie’s go-to order. Waiting for him and humming to the song, you finally take a bite when he does.

Both of you moan in happiness, laughing a little as each realizes that the other did the same. Once your mouthful of pizza has been swallowed, you grin at Frankie and he grins back. The shop is quiet, the dull rhythm of the oldies station playing in the background. There are no words, but there’s no need for them.

Frankie finishes his slice at about the same time as you, and your hands bump as you both reach for another piece, the one loaded with toppings. “Back off, Morales,” you laugh and swat his hand away, though your hand instantly moves for another piece.

“No, you can have it,” he says, brow furrowing as you leave the piece alone.

“It’s yours. You’re the one working; you deserve it.”

He knows you inside and out. He knows that there’s no arguing when you’ve made the decision, so he takes the piece with a loving “thank you”.

It takes hardly any time for either of you to finish the second piece. Leaning back against the car, your eyes finally shut and you sigh in relaxation. You have food, you have Frankie, and finally you’re starting to get tired. “What time is it now?”

“Late. You can sleep if you want.”

“I’m not tired,” you bluff, though your body slumps against the car, head falling to the side.

Frankie just shrugs and munches on another piece. He can’t help but smile at the sight: you’re in your pajamas and his flannel, falling asleep on the floor of the mechanic shop. He certainly never expected to see such a sight, but he grins at how cute you look like this.

By the time Frankie’s third slice is gone, you’re half-asleep, barely conscious, body holding what little tension and energy you have left. Frankie just leans back, watching you, still smiling at the sight.

He can see it happen when you finally do fall asleep. The tension in your back drifts away, your body slumping down against the car. Your face, which was scrunched in concentration of trying to stay awake, finally slips into the neutrally peaceful state of sleep.

Frankie closes the pizza box, standing and bringing it to the back. He can have some more later if he’s hungry; if not, he’ll send it home with you- later. For now, you need to rest.

His knees and back scream at him as he bends down, but Frankie squats in front of you and wakes you. “Hey, baby. You fell asleep. Come on, get on up and I’ll take you to the couch in the back.”

Your sleep-addled state doesn’t let you argue. You stand, still half-asleep, using Frankie’s hands to help you up. He wraps the clean side of the blanket around you, almost like a burrito, but leaves your legs enough room to walk. Holding onto your arm, so that you don’t trip thanks to your barely-opened eyes, he leads you to the break room in the back.

The old leather couch is beat up and worn, scratched and occasionally ripped from tools left in back pockets and too many years of careless plopping down after a long shift. Frankie makes sure your blanket is swaddled tightly around you and helps you lay down, chuckling at the burrito you make on the couch.

Frankie bends down and kisses your forehead. “I’ll be here if you need me. Just sleep now, babe.”

You murmur something in response, something that might’ve resembled words if you weren’t already fading out again.

Frankie doesn’t go too far, just across the room to the computer. He fires up the machine to check out the schedule for tomorrow, what the store needs to order more of, the usual. The thing that makes it better, maybe even enjoyable, are your soft snores from the couch behind him.

-

taglist:

@remmysbounty @mishasminion360 @blo0dangel @binarydanvvers  @sleep-tight1 @apascalrascal @randomness501 @spideysimpossiblegirl @notabotiswear @pedro-pastel @sanchosammy @lv7867 @greeneyedblondie44 @hunnambabe @astoryisaloveaffair @emesispo @pedritobalmando @magikfanatic @a-court-of-feysand-and-elorcan @princess76179 @starless-eyes-remain @tacticalsparkles @queridopascal

[baka-monarch]

Innocent

Part 2

Trigger warnings: vore, mouth play, dehumanization

Part 1

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

For the past week Wilbur had been taking care of Tommy, teaching them things that kids his age should already know, and becoming more attached to them then ever- oh and also he'd been failing at teaching the kid to hide from other humans. Wilbur had quickly learned that this kid had absolutely no fear of humans, which wouldn't be a bad thing if it weren't for the social norms that were eating tinies, killing tinies, and basically torturing them. Most humans didn't view tinies as people (Wilbur included a few weeks ago), so much so to the point that it had taken Wil twelve hours to find a kids show without eating tinies in it for Tommy to watch; and he wanted to make sure that Tommy knew to hide from humans because of it. The problem was no matter how many times he told Tommy to hide, played hide and seek where he'd pretend to be the "big bad human" to teach them to hide, and no matter how many times he told them to stay hidden whenever someone came home- Tommy always, ALWAYS, would run out into the open to see Wilbur whenever he came home from work, and even playing hide and seek. There seemed to be absolutely nothing he could do to teach this kid to avoid humans and he was running out of time. 

Wilbur's roommate Dream had been gone for the past few weeks to visit an out of town friend, and Dream was like Wilbur. He was raised with the same social norms and ate mostly the same things which meant if Dream came home while Wilbur wasn't there and found Tommy- well, Wilbur really didn't want to think about what would happen, but he knew it would be bad. All he knew was that Dream was coming home at the end of this week, and Wilbur still had yet to instill some sort of instinct to hide from humans in the little tiny he'd decided to adopt, and unfortunately he had to work this weekend… so Tommy might end up being alone when Dream arrived… fuck. 

"Tommy…." Wilbur spoke up, looking down at the tiny kid curled up in his hand as they looked away from the TV and up at him. "I have to work again this weekend, do you remember what I told you what to do when I'm at work?"

"Hmmmm oh- uhm, wait for you!" Tommy smiled up at Wil and he couldn't stop himself from smiling softly back, and ruffling their hair with finger.

"Yeah, and what else?" He asked and watched as their adorable little face scrunched up in concentration as they tried to remember, their tiny little cheeks puffing up to show just how concentrated they were. 

"I gotta…. I gottaaaaaaaaaaaaa eat food when the clock is loud!!!" Tommy smiled as he assumed he got the right answer. They weren't wrong, Wilbur did leave out lunch for them and they weren't supposed to eat it until an alarm he had set went off- but that's not what he meant.

"True- but I mean hiding Tommy, you need to remember to hide if someone comes here." Wilbur lifted the kid up to his face to show how serious he was about this- but Tommy only jumped onto his nose to hug it.

"But what if it's you! I gotta say hai!!!" The child whined, and Wilbur couldn't stop the small giggle that escaped him as he went crossed eyes to see them.

"You can say hi once I say it's me- you remember how to know if it's me right?"

"Mhm, you yell AYUP!! Whenever you're home!" Tommy smiled, happy he could remember.

"That's right, so if anyone opens the door this weekend you need to hide until you hear me say-"

"Ayup!!"

"Yeah! You got it bud! You're going to do such a good job!" Wilbur praised them, but silently hoped Tommy actually did it this time unlike all the other times this week when they'd just run up to the door in excitement. 

"I know I am!!! B'cause I'm the amazing Tommyinnit!!!!" Tommy giggled as he tried to climb higher on the bridge of Wilbur's nose.

"Yeah kid… yeah of course you can…."

•••

"Alright Tommy, I'm going to work now- you remember what to do?" Wilbur shoved his trenchcoat over his yellow jumper as he stood at the door, looking into the living room where he could see Tommy sitting on the coffee table watching TV.

"Yep! Hide and wait for you!!!" Tommy yelled back.

"Good- I'll see you in a few hours okay?"

"Okie!!" Tommy yelled, and watched as Wilby went out the door and closed it behind himself. Now Tommy was alone, a familiar feeling to him after spending so long in his cage, but this time he could go around and do stuff while he waited for Wilby!

Tommy walked over to one side of the coffee table where there was a small starch of square sticky paper (what did Wilby call it? Post- pots- pass? Eet? Not? No? It was something weird-). Tommy climbed on top to the small stack, grabbed the edge of one, and started to pull it back while walking backwards. It didn't take long for him to fall over with the sheet of sticky paper, and once he had it he stuck it down to the table. Now for the easy part; AKA, grabbing the led (it's led right? He's pretty sure Wilby called it led) that was off to the side, and now he could draw!

Tommy layed down on top of the paper as he drew, sticking his little tongue out in concentration as he made little marks on the paper. At the moment he was really just drawing whatever came to mind: Wilby, himself, the sheep from inside the TV, his cage- anything that really came to mind. 

He had been drawing for almost an hour before he heard the familiar clicks and scratching noises that meant someone was unlocking the door. It must be Wilby, he thought to himself as he stood up and went to the edge of the coffee table where a blanket was taped down. Tommy quickly slid down to the floor and started running to the door; he felt like he was forgetting something, but it probably wasn't important, and if it was then Wilby could tell him what it was. Tommy only stopped running once he was in front of the door, bouncing on his feet as he watched it open, smiling with excitement to see Wilby-

The big person who was on the other side of the door was not Wilbur. He was shorter and had dirty blonde longish hair, and green eyes. His face was peppered with freckles, and he was wearing a green hoodie. 

Dream walked into the familiar house carrying a backpack full of dirty laundry after weeks of being away with him. He looked around curiously, he knew Wilbur was probably going to be at work when he got back, but it was weird that the TV was left on while they were gone. He shrugged it off, and just closed the door behind himself, and was looking at the floor as he turned around- Dream let out a startled noise at what he saw. There on the floor staring up at him with a face full of wonder, was a tiny, one that seemed younger then most.

"Oh… one must've gotten away from Wil" Dream reasoned to himself and reached down to grab it, satisfied as it didn't even try to get away- actually it started to giggle as he picked it up. 

"Do you know Wilby?" The small thing asked, and Dream was a little confused by the nickname. It was obviously talking about Wilbur, but why would it be calling him that.

"Uh yeah?" As he answered, the tiny only seemed to smile more. Weird, usually it'd be scared by now.

"I'm Tommy, it's nice to meet you, Wilby's friend!" The tiny waved at him, and he just kept getting more and more confused.

"Nice to meet you too I guess…" Or more, nice to eat you, Dream mused to himself. He was sure Wilbur wouldn't mind if he ate this tiny, they were probably just saving it for later anyways- plus eating it would finally end the confusion he felt when thinking that food was adorable when having a goofy little smile like that. With that in mind Dream opened his mouth and tossed the tiny inside, trying to ignore the way it giggled at being thrown. He quickly closed his mouth around it and started to lick.

"Excuse me, big person" The tiny spoke up and he could feel it push back on his tongue a bit, but it wasn't much, almost like it wasn't actually fighting… "Wilby said I'm not supposed to let big people eat me."

"And why's that?" Dream asked, not even bothering to move the tiny out of the way as he spoke, and simply tossed it around in his mouth as he moved his tongue to form words.

"Well, he said mama isn't ready to see me yet!" Mama? Dream asked himself internally. Tinies don't have familial bonds, they're all just little snacks that people eat, yeah they're alive but that doesn't change the fact that it's just an animal meant to be eaten. 

"He doesn't know what he's talking about, I'm sure she's ready to see you." He mused, since he might as well play along if only to not gag if this tiny started squirming.

"Okie!" The tiny shouted and suddenly it stopped pushing on his tongue at all, anything that had felt like the tiny might've been fighting against him stopped, as it just laid on his tongue. Then, when Dream began to lick again he heard some adorable (-not adorable, remember it's just food Dream) giggled from the tiny as he coated it with saliva. He didn't hear the tiny say anything else about the fact that it was about to die until he started to push it towards the back of his throat to swallow, "Bye bye Wilby's friend- oh can you please please please tell him that I went to mama? Thank you!"

With that Dream stopped. He pushed the tiny to the front of his mouth as he started to think about this weird tiny. He didn't know how but it… it was acting like an actual child. Like a real human child. Why had Wilbur really kept it- them? Him? What was actually going o-

"Dream stop!!!" Dream's thoughts were suddenly cut off as he was shoved to the ground and his mouth was for ed open. He coughed a bit after a hand grabbed the tiny out- and when he looked up to see who it was he was surprised by the sight.

"Wilbur!? What the heck!?" Dream shoved the other human off of himself, and didn't miss the way that they hugged the tiny child to their chest protectively.

"I could ask you the same fuuu- freaking thing!!" Wilbur scooted away from Dream and continued to cup the tiny to his chest, blocking them completely from Dream's view with two hands. 

Dream took a moment to process the situation, glancing back and forth between Wilbur's hands and Wilbur's face and things slowly started to click. "You…. When were you gonna tell me you adopted a kid?"

"Well I was hoping to do it after we were both home and I could keep Tommy safe."

"Keep Tommy- keep the tiny- KEEP IT SAFE!? If you didn't want me to try and eat it you should've called or texted me before I got here!" Dream yelled, knowing that this would've been an easy solution that should've been quickly thought of- but of course, Wilbur in his dumbassery hadn't thought of that.

"Him."

"What?"

"He is a him, not an it." Wilbur corrected.

"Seriously!? That's the part you're focusing on!?"

"Yes, because Tommy is a person, a bit dumb for running out to see you, but a person." Wilbur smiles fondly as he says this and ruffles Tommy's hair with his thumb. 

"Sure- but still, why didn't you just message me about him, you still have a phone-" Dream points out and notices an embarrassed look quickly grow onto Wilbur's face. 

"Well I didn't really think of that…" They say and it makes Dream let out a small groan.

"Okay, I'm going to go do laundry, and when I'm done you can tell me all about this… Tommy." Dream stands up and leaves the two alone- but as he glanced back and sees the kid again he can't stop himself as he gains a fond smile. Okay, maybe he was a little adorable...

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

Mcyt g/t list:

@trashpumped @lorie-the-little-ghost @encaos @i-am-a-weeb @wyforyu-gaming @5unfl0writ3r @colorfulsiren @moonmwah @iwasgoingtohellanyways @echoslime @wilbur-simp @trouble-off-grid @lilsyxx @smogs-0 @hello-world-im-snow

[olivia-anderson-fanfic]

Into The Unknown, Part 11

First

Previous

Marinette was going to kill Tim.

His alarm had been going off for about three minutes now and she was going to kill him.

She sighed and finished the wing of her eyeliner and poked her head out of the bathroom to Definitely Not Curse In Front Of A Baby.

His phone was facedown and threatening to buzz itself off of the kitchen table.

She rolled her eyes and walked over to silence it, then looked around for the person who, for some reason, didn’t do that.

Tim… looked like he might already be dead?

He was still in bed, but he had also pulled all the blankets off of the corners in order to cocoon himself properly. She hesitantly glanced back at Damian, who was currently pretending to put makeup on the plush cat’s (named ‘Cat’, of course, she was beginning to sense a theme here) face. Alright, he was distracted for at least a little while.

She made her way over to Tim and, after tossing his phone onto the bedside table because she wasn’t actually sure whether she had pressed snooze or cancel, sat next to him. “Tim? You alright?”

He groaned a little and attempted to roll his cocoon away from her. It wasn’t really working. The blankets were holding him down. He had been betrayed by what he loved.

Marinette sighed and reached a hand out to feel his forehead.

Not too warm but definitely a little feverish.

She shook her head slightly and walked over to the medicine cabinet. Damian watched her with interest, green eyes wide. She flashed the kid a smile to say everything was okay -- even if it might not be from the looks of things -- and then pulled a pill bottle from the shelf. Tim had brought his meds over from the other world and she had assumed that he had made sure to give himself a prescription in this world while he was making their identities but...

Yep. He needed a refill.

“Dumbass,” she murmured, shaking her head as she put it back.

She pulled out her phone and checked to make sure that she could bring Damian to work even as an intern… yep! At least that was good.

She sighed and looked over at Tim, who had barely moved outside of pulling his phone into the cocoon. It wasn’t on, no light was emanating from it, apparently he just wanted to have it with him. Maybe it was like a stuffed animal for him, she joked mentally.

...

She sighed. Man, it was hard to tease him when he looked like that.

(… because it was too easy, obviously. What other reasons were there?)

Fine. She’d save it all up for later. For now she could be… nice-ish.

“Got a favorite tea?”

He mumbled more incoherently than Damian for a few moments before managing to choke out: “Coffee.”

She resisted the urge to flick him on the forehead and instead just got up to make him some lemon and ginger tea. Because even the most basic of bitches can’t hate lemon and ginger tea.

When she started back over Damian saw her walk past and made a quiet sound in the back of his throat to get her attention. He reached his hands out for her. She sighed and clumsily pulled him out of the high chair with one arm and positioned him on her hip.

Marinette set the tea on the bedside table. Tim glared at her for a moment and then looked pointedly at the drink.

“When you get better I’ll brew you coffee myself, but you need to at least try and be healthy until you heal up,” she promised with only minimal eye rolling.

“Not what I’m mad about,” he said, still looking at the drink as if he could will it to… be right or something.

“... do you want sugar or cream or...?” She asked once it became clear he was trying to make her guess.

“Coaster,” he said.

She groaned and quickly found one. She threw it down far harsher than was strictly necessary. Tim was worse than her mom about coasters. Let her ruin the furniture, damn it!

By the time she had gotten back Damian had started trying to crawl into the cocoon and, while the idea of the baby trying to heal Tim via cuddles was very cute, Marinette had to pull him away. Babies don’t have immune systems yet, she was pretty sure. Putting him around a sick Tim was basically asking to end up with two sick idiots to take care of.

Damian squirmed in her hands, trying to free himself so he could get back to Tim. “Bu… Nano!”

Tim smiled weakly and reached a hand out to rest on top of Damian’s head. “It’s fine, kiddo. Just gonna… sleep a little.”

“And you’re going to be coming with me to work! Doesn’t that sound fun?” She asked in her sweetest voice.

Damian scowled. “Nano.”

“‘Nano’ needs sleep,” she tried again.

Damian shook his head. Marinette glanced at the time and cringed. Alright. Looks like there’s no time to do this in a gentle way.

She glanced at Kaalki. “Lock the door behind me?”

Kaalki looked up. She had… put a portal on the ceiling on the floor and was, apparently, trying to see how fast she could get the empty water bottle to fall before it started to melt.

The kwami shrugged. Marinette was going to take it as a yes.

She allowed Damian to get one last hug from Tim while she slipped on her shoes and gathered everything she’d need for the day... and then she grabbed him and sprinted out the door before the kid could get too angry.

… and so, screaming baby in her arms, she ran to catch the train.

The crying didn’t stop for a long time. Or maybe it was only five minutes. It still felt like forever. It was the first time Damian was really away from Tim (when she was taking care of Damian Tim was still in the house and able to get there at any point, so those times didn’t really count) in almost three months. Of course the kid was freaking out.

… he was definitely going to freak out even more when he realized that Marinette was leaving, too.

Was it too late to call in sick for work?

Probably.

Well, it was going to have to happen eventually.

She groaned a little to herself and hugged Damian closer in her lap, chin resting on top of his head. The subway was interesting to him, it seemed. That was fair. Public transportation is weird. There was a guy doing stripper moves on one of the poles and Marinette was hardly even phased. At least Damian was enjoying it, clapping excitedly and yelling “raqs!” at the ‘performer’.

But, all too soon, she reached her stop. She waved to the man with Damian and then carried him out to her job.

There was a lot of paperwork involved with signing a kid up for daycare. She didn't know why this surprised her, but it did. It was a pain, too. Remembering all the fake birth dates and names and affiliations that they had come up with. She had been tempted to pull up her cheat sheet on her phone but she was scared that would make her look like an incompetent parent -- or worse, like she was faking the entire thing and wasn’t even biologically or legally related to the kid.

It was an irrational fear, she knew, but damn was it prevalent.

So, she just glared at the papers. She could see Damian doing the same from where he had sat himself down on the table, occasionally glancing over to make sure that this was still what they were doing. It was kind of cute. It was very hard to remain angry through that.

She nuzzled her nose against his cheek, smiling at the little giggles he gave.

She went back to the paperwork in considerably lighter spirits. Once she had finally filled out all the vaccination records (and made a mental note to actually try and figure out how many vaccines the kid had, if any) she sighed and turned to the kid.

“Alrighty, I gotta go to work, Dami.”

Damian didn’t understand much English yet, a byproduct of suddenly being introduced to the language after a year of only being spoken to in Arabic, but he certainly understood what those words meant: she was about to leave him.

And it wasn’t like he didn’t cry a little when she left every day, the little sniffles and pleading looks weren’t at all new to her. But, now that Tim wasn’t there, he was full-on wailing. He crawled to the edge of the table, towards her, and she had to lunge to catch him before he fell…

But apparently this was the plan, because he instantly fisted his little hands in her shirt and curled up in her arms.

… damn. How was she supposed to just leave when he was like this…?

She held him tighter, nuzzling her face in his hair. “It’s just a little while, Dami. I’ll be back. I’ll come back. Sa’aeud. I’ll be back.”

Damian buried himself closer in her shirt and she sighed, looking up at the poor daycare worker.

“I’m sorry…”

“First time you’re leaving him with someone else?” The woman said with a kind smile. Her name was Ava, according to her name tag.

Marinette nodded helplessly. Damian had wrapped his little legs around her. His grip was surprisingly strong. It would definitely take a lot of effort to pry the kid off. If she walked over to her boss he could see the situation and he might give her the day off, he was just a few floors away, she should at least try --.

Ava knelt down next to her and reached a hand for Damian.

Slowly, reluctantly, Marinette opened her arms so the woman could detach Damian from her.

“All kids are like this the first few times. Think of it as a compliment: he thinks you’re safe.”

Marinette nodded slightly and helped pull one of Damian’s hands from her shirt. Damian stopped crying to look up at her, eyes wide and glassy with tears, and then he started crying harder, she hadn’t even thought that that was possible --.

Ava managed to pull Damian off of Marinette and, while the kid was still, he was still hiccuping he was crying so hard.

Marinette gave him a sad smile. “It’ll be okay, Dami. ‘ant bi’aman. Sa’aeud.”

He didn’t look like he believed her assurances.

“Mar-ree?” He tried, one last time, reaching one little hand out for her.

She gently took the hand, pressing a kiss into his palm. “I gotta go to work, Dami.”

Damian’s hand dropped.

Ava gave her a tiny smile and knocked shoulders with her. “Cheer up. You did everything right by saying you’ll come back to him. Say that every time and, eventually, he’ll start to believe you.”

She nodded. She wasn’t happy about it, though. She just watched Damian cry as he was taken into the daycare room until Ava had the sense to close the door.

… when she came back at the end of the day, Damian was enjoying himself.

He was playing a game with Ava. Ava would try and build something with blocks and he would wait until he had determined that she was almost done before knocking it over. What an asshole. She loved him.

She smiled faintly and waved at him when he noticed her. He instantly lit up, pushing himself up onto shaky feet and toddling (wait, is that why they’re called toddlers?!) over to her. He was getting better at walking. He managed to get three-fourths of the way across the room before he fell to his knees and crawled the rest of the way. She smiled and picked him up, nuzzling her nose against his cheek.

“Hey, Dami.”

“Mar-ree! Hi!”

Aw, he learned what ‘hi’ means! She thought but she wasn’t going to say that aloud.

“Make any friends?” She said instead.

Damian stared at her with wide eyes. She smiled and pressed a kiss to the top of his head.

Ava gave her a tiny smile as she walked over. “Sorry, but I do have to ask for ID.”

“... you saw me drop him off… literally this morning?”

“Yeah, I know. Just protocol,” she said, giving an apologetic smile.

Marinette shrugged a little and nodded, carefully shifting Damian to one arm so she could do that. She also had to fill out a little paper that asked for a review of their services and any suggestions. Marinette wrote the words ‘pay the people more’, because taking care of one kid was stressful enough, she couldn’t imagine taking care of multiple at the same time, no amount of money would be enough to convince her to do that.

After she had signed every form that needed signing, she was free to leave.

And so, a good two hours after she usually left work, she started on the commute home with her kid.

Damian enjoyed the ride home even more than the ride there. The person that had been sitting next to Marinette had brought a sketchbook along and, when Damian had watched with that wide-eyed baby stare, had given him a piece of paper and pencil so he could do some work of his own.

Damian presented Marinette with a bunch of scribbles halfway through the ride, beaming widely.

“Tell me about your work,” she said jokingly.

Damian seemed to get it, because he took the paper from her and started babbling along and pointing to different areas as he explained what his thought process was.

(And, if Marinette missed her stop so he could talk longer, well, no one had to know.)

~~~~~

Next

@unoriginalmess @hammalammadamdam @astrynyx @laurcad123 @927roses-and-stuff @toodaloo-kangaroo

[remuscore]

Decisions, Decisions

I am hurting everyone around me with subtext and knowledge of what happens in the future for these two. But still enjoy cute baby Roman :)

Warnings: Talk of pregnancy, implied child abuse, mention of infant death. It's pretty tame for the most part but send an ask if you need anything else added.

_____________

Remus focuses on breathing, keeping his chest from rising up and down too fast as to not disturb the tiny little thing in his arms. He leaned against his car, bouncing and struggling to get his mind to understand the events that had come to pass by him so fast.

Audri told him she was pregnant and was not going to be keeping the kid. Remus— the overwhelming stupid Remus― said he wanted it. She had agreed to carry the baby, but she refused to be a part of the kid’s life. No matter how much Remus begged that she at least keep in contact, she said she wanted nothing to do with them. Either of them. Which was unbelievably harsh, but Remus couldn't blame her. Because of him, she had had any unplanned pregnancy and had to take time off school because of it. She was a smart girl so this ruined her education for awhile.

And while Remus was getting everything from when he was a baby and getting everything all set up in his room, his parents had found out and were... less than happy. A big fight ended with a chunk of Remus’ hair ripped out of his head and his car filled with baby things. He didn’t even get a chance to grab his own stuff. Not even his backpack. He had to go to the last month of school in the same clothes and with nothing to do his work. Luckily enough, the locker room had rental clothes and a shower and his teachers let him use some extra materials they had. He didn't tell anyone what happened.

On the last few days of school, Remus had stared at the doors to the school early in the morning, wondering if he should still try taking the kid in. If he called up Audri and said he couldn’t, then she could find the kid a real family. Real parents that were stable enough to actually raise them right. Then, Remus would be allowed back home. He wouldn’t be close to dropping out next year. He would still have a chance to have a real life and be a real young adult and get to have kids at an acceptable age later when he had money and a place to live.

Something in him said no. He didn’t want to put any more worry on Audri. He decided he was going to pretend to still want to keep the kid, but then give them over to a person that could actually give them a good home. This was his fault anyways, might as well take the responsibility of making sure the baby is safe.

But standing here now, close to midnight with a very small and new born baby boy in his arms, staring at the hospital just a parking lot in front of him, Remus couldn’t make his legs move.

He was just so small.

“Nine pounds and six ounces,” Remus whispered. He didn’t know why he kept repeating what Audri had told him. He's been saying it like a mantra ever since she handed him over. “Nine pounds, six ounces, perfectly healthy and happy. Nine pounds, six ounces.”

Every breath felt so heavy and painful and he prayed that his― that the baby didn’t mind the fast beating of his heart. Why was this so terrifying? Remus has never been this scared before and it was all over a baby.

Whatever choice he made right now sealed the fate of his entire future. He was responsible for not only his life, but someone who couldn’t even lift their head yet. He has never been responsible for anything larger than a rat before in his life and that rat ended up dying because it went missing from it's cage and the feral cat that lived in their garage killed it. He shouldn’t be in charge of a baby.

“Fuck, what should I do?” Remus gasped. He pulled the baby closer to him, holding the back of his head and feeling the small patch of hair on his head. He was starting to panic and that was never good. Can babies read your vibes? Can the baby feel him panicking? “Fuck― fuck. What should I do?”

“Eli would know what to do,” Remus adjusted the baby so that they were chest to chest and his tiny head was on his shoulder. He squirmed and let out a few little whines as Remus slid down onto the wet asphalt under his tires. The bundle in his arms stopped squirming when Remus bounced him again. “Eli’s wife just got pregnant. He's been reading all these baby books and it's barely even a bump yet. I beat him to it.”

He laughed and leaned the baby away to look at him. He was practically falling asleep right here and now. His little pink lips covered in drool and his skin was starting to flake and dry up. His head was so big and fat that his little cheeks were acting like little pillows on his shoulders. He was just so incredibly tiny.

“You don’t even know who Eli is, you lucky shit,” Remus’ cheeks hurt from the smile that has yet to fall off his face. He just wanted to crush the baby’s tiny little head, he’s so fucking cute! “He’s my brother. Technically, anyways. Or maybe not anymore because my parents kicked me out. I might be disowned now. I could’ve had two brothers, you know. I think about that a lot actually. He was supposed to be my twin, but he had a lot of breathing problems and died about two months after being born. I wish he had stuck around. I could definitely use someone right now.”

The baby didn’t respond of course because he was just a baby. He didn’t understand a single thing going on. He didn’t know who Remus was or what he was saying or what was in store for him if Remus could just make a fucking decision. He was small and ignorant to everything for the next few years.

Remus didn’t expect how fast he would fall in love with this stupid little thing.

With that thought in mind, Remus held the baby in one arm and pushed himself to his feet. He didn’t glance back at the hospital as he opened the door to the passenger side and put him in his car seat. The little thing didn’t stir and continued sleeping calmly. Remus rushed to the driver’s side and buckled himself in. He turned on the engine and dialed the first number he could think of on his phone.

“Hey, Spencer, I know we haven’t talked in awhile, but long story short I need a place to stay because I was kicked out of my house for getting a girl pregnant—” Remus laughed at his friends response, wedging the phone between his ear and his shoulder as he started driving to his apartment. “Yeah, I know, but I gotta son now so— his name?”

Remus grabbed the phone with his hand again and glanced over at the baby. Audri never gave him a name. She didn’t want anything to do with them, so of course she didn’t care about his name, but Remus didn’t really plan to take the kid back. The hospital or adopter people were going to handle that.

“Uh… Roman,” Remus smiled and nodded in agreement. “Yeah, his name is Roman. Yeah, he was born just a few hours ago. June 4th.”

[inkdemonapologist]

[BatIM Call of Cthulhu Masterpost]

REMEMBER BACK WHEN WE GOT INVITED TO A MASQUERADE??? And we figured out the masquerade guests are definitely the sacrifice meant to summon their eldritch deity and that the party will probably be the location of the final ritual? ANYWAY WE’RE CRASHING THE PARTY, which means we need costumes.

The party is Alice in Wonderland themed; Sammy hasn’t read the book but got kin-assigned the March Hare by Joey, so naturally i’ve been doing nothing but drawing this loser in a dapper rabbit costume for an entire week

---

Anyway have a little smattering of out-of-context quotes from session 11

[Sammy is played by me, Joey is played by Boo (inkyvendingmachine), Henry is played by Maf (inkcryptid), Jack is played by Mochi (whatyouwantedmetosee) and Thren (haunted-hijinxer) is our GM!]

[Sammy] Sammy just has no magical powers. [Jack] YET. [Sammy] Yet. Correct. ...He doesn't want any. [GM] Half of him doesn't want any. [Sammy] That's... accurate, yeah. Half of him ALSO wants the OTHER half of him to stop having magical powers. [Jack] No Magical Girl transformation? [GM] *laughing* Is that what that is? [Jack] I'd watch a magical anime where the main character drugs themself and then becomes a weird... religious... madman! [Sammy] That does sound compelling! Maybe you should see if you can find a franchise that contains that element, and then become a big fan of it and draw a bunch of fanart for some reason. [Jack] Yeah, I dunno, I mean... it's so tiring getting into new media, I need to get a friend who will drag me into it. [Henry] And then you guys can start a roleplaying game with it and drag me into it! [GM] There's an idea! [Jack] Yeah! Someone should get on that! [GM] And if there was such a theoretical game... people might have to figure... what they're doing when they wake up!

[Sammy] We were put in a situation before where we were told that the only thing we could do was kill the host, but we found a way around it last time, [Peter] What way was that? [Sammy] Complicated.

[GM] Henry is the first to notice the apparent cultist, camping out, looking tired, trying to spot you guys. [Henry] Uh, Henry is just going to tap Sammy on the arm and point him out. [Jack] Bros! You've got to unionise! Look at these working conditions! [GM] Maybe one of these days you won't spot them, right? Hope springs eternal!

[GM] Okay, you can make an intimidate! [Sammy] Okay! *rolls* FIFTEEN IS -- this is the only thing Sammy's good at now -- fifteen is a hard success!

[Jack] I'm proud of him! [Sammy] Someone has to be.

[GM] Allison chats with everyone, and gets you into the costume room! Everyone seems relatively friendly! [Sammy] Except Sammy. Sammy doesn't seem friendly.

[Joey] My idea was, Joey would be Mad Hatter -- [Sammy] Because he needs a hat, [Joey] --Yeah, so he can have a hat -- I was thinking Sammy could be the March Hare, Jack could be White Rabbit, and then Henry could be the Dormouse, [Sammy] Yes! And then the Haiti boys are all the Mad Teaparty, which is great, because the Mad Teaparty is canonically trapped in a time loop. [Sammy] Because we tHOUGHT ABOUT THIS TOO MUCH,

[Jack] Kin-assign Pete! [GM] He's content to wear anything that looks like it fits him, as long as people aren't trying to push a co-ordinated effort. [Joey] (Pete can be Caterpillar,) [Jack] Catter-pete-lar [Sammy] Oh my goodness. Completely unnecessary. [Jack] This is a pun that Jack might make, out loud, to Pete [GM] Pete laughs, despite himself! [Sammy] I feel like, Jack would make this pun, and then Jack would be SO pleased with himself that Pete would laugh, because Jack was so happy about it. [Jack] Yeah that sounds canon. ....It IS canon!!

[Jack] You can like, actually pretend to be people who decided to come to this party to enjoy it, and not just steal and/or murder!

[Henry] I want someone on the help, because I feel like we would have more control if we had someone on the inside, [Henry] And Henry does have a very forgettable face, apparently!!

[Joey] What are the staff wearing? Target red shirt, khaki pants? [Sammy] Perfect! Everyone will fall for it! Based on my experience wearing red shirts into Target!

[GM] I guess this does mean Joey misses an opportunity to dress up Henry. [Joey] *excited gasp* Wait, wait, [GM] What? [Joey] Sorry, this has nothing to do with anything that's happening right now in the roleplay, but I just suddenly realised that (1) when Henry got married, was Joey his best man, and (2) did Joey get to pick out his tuxedo for him [Henry] UHHHH... I feel like, Henry usually defaults to Joey for outfits and stuff, but he would hesitate a bit to ask his best friend who has an obvious crush on him to help dress for his heteronormative wedding!

[Joey] There probably is at least one of the wedding photos where Joey is insistent on standing very next to Henry -- while Henry's next to Linda! -- but, [GM] ...but also, Joey is here, [Joey] But also Joey is here. [Sammy] ...absolute disaster of a man... [GM] But the tuxedos look good! [Joey] Yes. Henry was properly fitted.

[Sammy] I don't want a full-- I don't want a freakin' fursuit, because-- [Henry] (FNAF in the distance)

[Sammy] But I feel like, since both White Rabbit and March Hare are, like, dapper rabbits, they could do something like, yeah, splicer mask and also a hat. [Jack] I mean, Jack's not opposed; Jack likes hats. [Sammy] Jack absolutely should have a hat, I agree. [Jack] He's getting so many hats! So many hats, and so many boyfriends, [GM] He can't be stopped! [Jack] >:3c He shouldn't be stopped.

[GM] I'm still just stuck on the phrase "Dapper Rabbits."

[GM] If Joey and Allison are talking further away, I guess it's moot. Though Allison did see Prophet Sammy! He changed in her room. [Sammy] Well, nobody explained him to her. Sammy just showed up the next day and hoped that we wouldn't talk about it, and then we didn't! It was great. [Jack] Sammy's over here, hoping that Allison is distracted by Joey so that none of this conversation is being listened to, [Jack] MEANWHILE, smash cut to the other side of the room, where Joey is explaining SillySam,

[Joey] A lot of Joey's lack of giving information was to keep her out of it, and not paint a target on her back... but now? She has a target on her back, so... Sure! You can also sacrifice yourself, for the greater good!

[Sammy] I'm sure someone in this party will thank Allison. It won't be me. But I'm sure someone will.

[Henry] Henry's already smearing his blood on people, he's gonna agree to whatever at this point.

[Sammy] DEFINITELY not a cult, now hold still while we put this guy's weird glowing blood on you, it's fine. [Jack] Welcome to the flock!

[GM] What does this mean for Prophet Sammy's sacrificeability rating on Henry, though? Now he's potentially long-term useful... [Sammy] I mean... [Jack] The Prophet isn't here so he doesn't need to know about this! [Sammy] ...I feel like, if something has greater value, then it's an even more impressive sacrifice. That's why you sacrifice an unblemished sheep, traditionally. If it's not a blemish-- [Sammy] Like, that's most of what he was worried about, like, “does this make you not fit for sacrifice.” But if it's actually a really cool thing, ...!

[Sammy] Sammy's nervous. [Jack] Jack is also nervous. [Henry] Henry is also nervous! [Jack] Oh, that's always a good sign, [Joey] Joey's going to be confident! [Henry] ...Of course he is. [Joey] Someone has to be! [Jack]...is he "Confident" or "Confident (Fast Talk)"? [Joey] YES. That last one. [Sammy] *muttering* That's the best we got, unfortunately.

[Sammy] If Jack or Henry express nervousness, Sammy agrees with them. If Pete is nervous, then Sammy will very aggressively say that Joey knows what he's doing.

[Sammy] Allison, don't use a spell to bind people's souls together in order to avoid crunch,,, [GM] You never know when something might be handy! [Sammy] I mean, [GM] Waste not want not!

[Henry] Does Henry have to draw in blood on himself...? [GM] No, Henry has a lot of his own blood on his person.

[GM] Aw, man, Bendy should've commented on the rabbit outfits! I'm sure he'd find that hilarious. [Joey] ...why...? [GM] WHY? It's just objectively funny! No additional reason is needed!!

[Joey] Joey will go through his notes, and confer with Henry and Bendy on, okay, shall we try this, and see if we can help Bendy as well? [Henry] Henry is down to try! [GM] Bendy is worried about Henry overexerting himself. [Henry] ...Henry is down to try!

[Jack] Worst case, Jack looks at the symbol, and then he can be seeing-eye rabbit for the rest of the group!

[GM] Norman wonders what the plan is! [Henry] Bold of you to assume,

[Sammy] We're having such a good sleepover! We did a weird blood ritual, and we're braiding each other's hair~ [Joey] Having a fashion show, [Sammy] Yeah! We went out and got clothes, [Jack] Can't believe Joey called a boy, [Sammy] Gotta ask Joey about the boy he likes... wait, no, don't do that. [Jack] I'd say it's time to play seven minutes in heaven, but I think we, we did that early. [Sammy] WE DIDN'T DO A VERY GOOD JOB,

[GM] Norman wants to see how this plays out. [Joey] Okay, well, try not to get sacrificed, then, [GM] He laughs, and thanks you for the advice! [Sammy] *Hypnos Hadesgame voice* "Try not to get sacrificed, okay?"

[Henry] Allison is very helpful, and not weird at all!

[Joey] We already have the banjo case full of ritual circles, and Joey would rather have the emergency circles than Sammy carrying around bOTTLES OF INK. [Sammy] WHY, WHY WOULDN'T YOU WANT THAT TO BE HAPPENING? WHAT WOULD BE THE PROBLEM WITH THAT,

[GM] Make a sanity check! [Jack] Wait, what's happening? [Sammy] Joey was trying to think too hard.

[GM] Sammy does manage to catch that there's a little-- next to the kitchen, when you go into the place where they're serving food, there's a sign that says "Sheep Shop" over it. And there's a person wearing a sheep mask, handing out food. [Sammy] OKAY, THAT'S FINE,,, I don't feel like Sammy has actually read Through The Looking Glass, so I don't know if he knows why this is happening. I think he's just concerned. [GM] Excellent. Ideal response.

[GM] And Joey has NEVER seen the symbol EVER because he's incredible at not looking at creepy symbols! Which you wouldn't expect. [Sammy] I'm sure Joey will put this in his autobiography.

[Jack] :/ No Hashtag Gay Rights at this party,

[GM] Seems to be another party-goer; in fact, you recognise the voice! [Joey] Ohhh. Kyle -- I don't know his actual name, but -- [Sammy] (Dennis!) [GM] (Yes, that's-) [Joey] -- Kyle.

[Henry] Henry is going to try to sneak up on Moonlight while he's distracted! [GM] OH! ...Okay! He's very distracted, Sammy just screamed! [excited noises from everyone beCAUSE NO ONE EXPECTED THIS] [GM] You successfully sneak up behind him! [Henry] I'm going to grab the staff! [GM] Make a Brawl check, with advantage! [Sammy] (He has SO many limbs that don't work my dude, you got this,) [Henry] That's a success! [GM] You snatch it! [Henry] I RUN!!!

[Joey] We're just both escorting Jack, now. [Sammy] Would you say Jack is late, for a very important date? [Jack] Well YEAH, his Face Removal was scheduled like 2 dreams ago!!

[GM] He'd have to roll for it, to see if it felt familiar to his trip to Carcosa. [Jack] Extreme success! [GM] Then he would pick up that familiar feeling! [Jack] Oh, nice and homey at this party! Really nice. Nostalgic! It's been a while. [Sammy] Hm, [Jack] Maybe he should go play the piano, for old time's sake! [Sammy] NO

[navegandoaciegas]

no sweeter innocence than our gentle sin

Pairing: Bucky x Reader

Warnings: catholic priest!Bucky, virgin!Bucky, desecrating thoughts and actions, explicit language, smut, consensual sexual acts, mentions of loss of virginity, slight innocence and religious kinks (nothing disturbing), oral sex, fingering, masturbation, sex in a public (and sacred) place.

Summary: As punishment for your sinful behavior, your parents send you to your aunt’s house in the middle of nowhere, in hope you’ll redeem yourself. The punishment quickly backfires when you take an interest in the local (and handsome) priest, and you manage to corrupt his pure soul.

A/N: I was in a priest!Bucky mood this morning and I wrote this for @saiyanprincessswanie​ writing challenge. I chose prompt 17 and the ‘opposites attract’ trope. I hope you like this!

Filth and happy ending ‘cause I’m a sap. Take me to church by Hozier inspired this.

This is not a dark story and both reader and Bucky are consenting adults. Fyi, catholic priests can’t marry, and they change their name when they are ordained. We’ll pretend James is the name he took as priest.

You look over your shoulder to check if anyone’s around and knock on the backdoor of the church, waiting for your lover to usher you inside. The sinful secrecy of it all, the rush of excitement, your love for all that’s forbidden: you’ve never felt more alive.

Being forced to spend the summer in the middle of nowhere is not the way you expected your senior year of college to end, but not all evil comes to harm, and in this quiet little town, you’ve become quite interested in the local priest. In your defence, boredom is the root of all evil, and in your case, evil happens to make you horny and prone to making bad decisions, and Father James is young and handsome, so it was only a matter of time before he gave in the temptation of the flesh and you found yourself fucked against the altar. 

Ordained or not, he’s only a man after all.

-

The confessional is dark and suffocating; behind the wooden screen, the priest is all ears.

Muscle memory kicks in when you do the sign of the cross and begin to speak. 

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.” you recite the formula that’s been ingrained in your mind since you were old enough to need it, “My last confession was seven years ago.”

You mentally curse your parents for still having the authority to send you to Bumfuck Nowhere, Alabama, and your aunt for forcing you to attend church and confess your sins. 

It will be good for your soul, they said, New York is corrupting you.

You suppose it’s only fair that your good catholic parents would react so drastically; they wanted to surprise you in your new apartment and drove all the way from Rhode Island to New York, only to find your piano tutor buried balls deep inside of you. Lord knows what they’d do if they knew you’ve lost your purity long before that, with one of the good catholic girls in your private boarding school. Extramarital sex, with a woman at that! They’d probably have a meltdown, drag your to a cloistered convent and lock you there for life.   

You don’t wait for the priest to acknowledge you and start talking.

“You know Father, I found a handy dandy little list of all the sins you’re supposed to confess to and I checked them. I’ll read it to you. Let’s see.” you clear your throat, “So, I use artificial birth control, I broke a couple of promises, including the one to wait for marriage, I can be kind of blasphemous sometimes, but you see, I spent six months abroad in Italy last year and the kids there taught me all sorts of ways to disrespect the Lord, they have so many, and once those things get stuck in your brain... what can you do, they just stick in there, you don’t even want to say them but they become part of your vocabulary.” you continue uninterrupted, “Anyways, my parents caught me in the act with a man, so I guess we have ‘dishonoring family’ too. Underage drinking as a kid, a lot of that. Drugs sometimes, nothing major, ya know, I don’t do coke or nothing. Gossiping, impure thoughts, God-”

He interrupts you clearing his throat.

“Sorry. See? I don’t even do it on purpose. As I was saying, I love those. Lying... not a whole lot to be honest; to my parents, mostly. Haven’t prayed in a good 10 years. Masturbation, did I mention that? Watched porn a couple of times, ‘m not a big fan if I’m being honest, but to each their own. Oh, and premarital sex, a ton of that. Had an orgy once, not too fond of those either. Too many limbs.”

There’s a lot to unpack here, so you give him a moment to ponder his thoughts. He stays silent for a while, and when he speaks his voice is not at all what you expected it to be. He’s soft spoken yet commanding, and sounds surprisingly young.

“Anything else you can remember?”

“Well of course, the cherry on top, my own first class ticket to hell.” you say, not as cheerful as before, repeating the exact words you’ve been taught for years, “God gave me free will and I used it to commit homosexual acts, Father. Multiple times.” 

You let the words hang in the stuffy air of the confessional; you don’t know what to expect from the priest, to be honest. Last time you admitted to thinking of a girl to a religious figure, Sister Theresa told you you’d never have to act on your impulses, or you’d burn in hell for it. You were 12. 

“You think that’s worse than the rest?”

“Not me, no, I don’t.”

He hums thoughtfully. “What makes you do the things you do?” he asks, and you don’t feel any of the judgment you were expecting, only genuine curiosity.

“Aren’t you gonna ask me to repent for my sins?” you reply, equally as curious.

“Is absolution what you’re seeking?”

You snort, shaking your head. “I’m not looking for forgiveness, Father, and I’m way past asking for permission.”

“Then why are you here?”

“My aunt forced me.”

It’s his turn to snort this time. “You don’t seem the type to follow orders blindly.”

You admit the guy’s got a point. “I guess… I don’t know. I felt the need to. It feels nice, talking to someone. I feel lonely a lot, and it’s easier to talk to strangers. And this is cheaper than therapy, so that’s a bonus. Really, I just need to vent.”

“Do you regret any of your choices?” he says, after a while.

“Not the ones I confessed to.” you admit, trying to discern the priest’s figure behind the screen. 

“What is it, then?”

“You know, you’re kinda chill for a priest from Alabama, I gotta give it to you.” you respond, dodging his question.

“Thanks, it’s probably because I’m from Brooklyn.”

“What the hell-” 

“Language.” 

“Sorry. Why would someone move from Brooklyn to this place?”

“Vocation.”

“I see.” 

It’s silent again, but it doesn’t feel uncomfortable.

“You should come to the parish sometimes. We have meetings, we sing, we eat together, the children play football and the young adults talk about what it means to be a Catholic in the modern world. It may ease your mind about a lot of worries and misconceptions you might have.”

You contemplate on his words: it wouldn’t hurt, would it? It’s not like you’ve got a whole lot going on here; and you might as well find yourself a devoted man or woman to pass time. 

“I might.”, you finally respond, not willing to give him the satisfaction, and stand from the chair. “I’ll see you around, Father.”

“May God give you peace, miss.”

“Amen.”

-

“What took you so long?” James asks, grunting when you pull on his hair.

“My aunt asked me to make lunch for her husband, as if he couldn’t do it his damn self.” you respond, and suck on his bottom lip, “Missed me?”

“Always.”

You coo, “My eager boy.”

He’s sitting on his office chair and you’re straddling his lap, grinding your hips on him and feeling his arousal grow. You’re burning up, panties damp and a familiar coil in your core. You don’t know what excites you the most: being responsible for the corruption of such pure soul, the forbidden aspect of fucking a Catholic priest, or the possibility of someone walking in on you. Your walls flutter when you imagine the scandal that this affair would create.

You pull him closer, tugging on his white collar, and he breaks the kiss. His eyes are black and glossed over, lips swollen, cheeks red, but there’s something like worry in eyes.

“Do you love me?” he asks quietly, in the soft voice you adore.

“Of course I do, you know that.”

You fall on your knees and fumble with the zipper of his black pants.

“Would you love me if I didn’t have this collar?” he stops your hands with his, “Would you still love me if I wasn’t this?”, he gestures to his sacred attire.

You pause your actions and search his eyes. Where is this coming from?

“Yes, I’d love you anyways, I’ll always love you.”

A small, shy smile breaks on his face. He lifts you up and makes you sit on his desk.

“I- I w-want to try something,” he begins with a stutter, “I remember hearing some kids back when I was in school talk about it.”

You cock your head to the side, observing carefully as he sits back down on the chair and parts your legs. He lowers his head and begins peppering the inner skin of your thighs with open mouthed kisses. Oh-.

“James, you don’t have to do this.” you try to tell him, but he’s already moving your panties to the side.

He stares entranced between your legs; he’s never been this bold, never watched you there. “You’re so pretty, I want to kiss you here.” 

You feel a finger tease your entrance and dip in. Every nerve ending in your body is on fire, and when he licks a strip of your dripping cunt, you feel like you could burst. He delves in your glistening folds, tongue swirling around as if he was kissing your mouth, and your hips jerk forward when he crooks a couple of fingers inside you, hitting that sweet spot that makes the coil in your belly grow tighter. 

You throw your head back and your eyes fall on the cross behind you. You are very much past forgiveness at this point, you muse, and that makes this all the more exciting.

You’re writhing under his touch, completely at his mercy. You grab the back of his neck and bring his face upward so that his mouth comes in contact with your clit.

“Suck there.” you demand in a raspy voice, rocking your hips and fucking yourself on his fingers. “Good boy.” you praise when he closes his mouth around your bud and begins sucking and lapping on it. “Yes, oh my God, fuck, faster.”

James obeys and jerks the fingers inside of you, the vibration and his tongue enough to make the knot in your core unravel and pleasure release in jolts, shooting from your center to the rest of your body; you slap a hand on your mouth to suppress wanton moans as your hips twitch involuntarily and your toes curl. He rides you though your orgasm until you’re too sensitive to handle his face on you.

When you look down, you find him, face wet in your arousal, eyes half lidded.

“Did I do well?” he asks full of hope, still clinging to your legs and nuzzling your thigh.

“You did amazing, sweet boy.”

-

“Bless me Father, for I have sinned.”

Hearing your sultry voice, he chokes on air behind the screen and clears his throat, trying to keep the same composure he always seems to loose when you’re around. 

“I got friendly with a man, you see, a man of church.” you begin in a teasing tone, “He kissed me, and I didn’t pull back. I let him roam his hands all over my body, Father, and then I corrupted him.”, You lick a couple of fingers and dip them in your mouth, then you release them with a popping sound and slowly slip them in your panties. You push a finger in your already wet core, smearing arousal around and teasing your clit, slow at first. “You should have seen how innocent he looked, Father. He said he’s never been touched like that. A virgin. I’ve never been with a virgin before.” you continue, almost moaning the last part as you slide three fingers in and out of you and tease your bud with your thumb, “He didn’t even know I could please him with my mouth, so I took him in and I sucked him off.” You’re panting, hand furiously circling your clit. You hear Bucky’s ragged breath behind the screen. “He moaned so loud, F-F-Father, he c-came so quick. And I swallowed it all, because you can’t let a single drop of seed g-go to w-waste, can you?” you whimper, feeling an orgasm build up.

You’re fueled by his suppressed grunts and the lewd sounds of him touching himself.

“I don’t come for absolution Father, because I’d do it all again.” you breathe at last, letting pleasure run through your every nerve, setting you ablaze. 

Behind the screen, Father James paints his hand and black shirt in white spurts, shame and pleasure fighting eachother in his mind.

-

You haven’t moved yet, legs parted, trying to catch your breath, and James is still clinging onto you.

You don’t know how it happened. 

It started with boredom, with a wish to fuck the pretty priest, but you’ve caught feelings now, and in three weeks you’ll have to get back to New York, where a job and a new apartment await you.

At least your aunt and your parents are happy about your redemption: you’ve been going to church everyday. They don’t need to know you’ve spent most time on your knees or on your back.  

But you don’t want to think about it now; you can’t let sadness take over and ruin these moments when James is only yours. Your love is on borrowed time, and you intend to make the most out of it.

“Do you want to fuck me, my love? You want me to come all over your pretty cock, yes? You want to fill me up with your cum?” you whisper in his ear, amused at the way he blushes.

“Please.” he whines, palming his cock through his briefs.

“Please what, sweet boy?”

“Please let me-” he interrupts himself.

“Let me what?”

He mumbles something incomprehensible.

“Can’t hear you.” you tease him, grabbing his chin and tilting his face up.

“Let me make love to you.”

You let out a chuckle and shake your head fondly. This man has had you bent over his desk, in the confessional, behind the altar, on the benches where the devoted Catholics of this town attend mass, and yet he can’t bring himself to talk crudely.

You pull on his hair so he stands, and you kiss him ravenously, letting your hands roam over his lean body, the taste of his lips permanently etched in the back of your mind. You don’t want to forget a thing, so you commit to mind each of his little noises, the way his tongue swirls around yours, the soft caresses of his hands.

Clothes discarded in a blur, the room is filled with your moan and his grunts. He pounds into you like a desperate man, clinging onto you with a bruising touch, holding you impossibly close as if you were about to slip through his fingers. And in a way, you are.

When James makes love to you the world disappears and there’s no judgement, no church. He’s not a priest, you’re not a sinner; he’s not pure, you’re not sick.

It’s just you and him, united in one body. Just a man and a woman being one in the flesh.

His thrusts become sloppier, his breathing labored. He brings a hand on your clit and presses on it. He comes inside of you, painting your walls, and the feeling of his swollen cock inside you and his cum filling you up are enough to trigger your release too, your walls clenching on him and milking every last drop.

You’re exhausted, panting in each other’s embrace. 

There’s no sin when you’re like this; you’re no longer the devil to his holy water. 

There’s only love.

-

James’ desk in his office is dark and wide, with mahogany panels on all three sides except the one he sits at. So when Ms. Lee, the adorable elderly lady that organizes the monthly fundraising events for charity, knocks on the door as you’re bouncing on James’ cock, all you have to do is crouch down and disappear under the table.

“Good evening, Father James.” She greets him cheerfully.

You hear the tapping of her heels until she plops down on the guests chair. 

“Good evening, Ms. Lee.” he responds in a strained voice, adjusting himself on the chair.

Ms. Lee speaks a lot. She’s talking James’ ear off, blabbering about the next charity event, and you think what better occasion than this one to be an indecent slut.

You slowly massage his thighs, bringing your hands from his knees to his groin, teasing him when you get close to his crotch and retracting. 

You watch as his cock swells in front of you, and you bite back a giggle. You hear him suck in a breath when you start pumping his length with both your hands.

“Are you alright, James? You’re looking a little worse for wear.” Ms. Lee asks him worriedly when she sees her priest red and sweaty.

James clears his throat and when he’s about to open his mouth, you lick a strip from base to his leaking tip, and the noise that escapes him is between a moan and a grunt.

“Y-yes, Ms. Lee, I’m fine. Just some food poisoning I think.” he manages to answer, wiping his forehead with the back of his hand.  

“Poor thing.” she coos, and you take his cock in your mouth, swirling your tongue around, sucking on the frail skin of under the tip, “Anyways-” she begins again.

James tries to keep his composure, but you sense his distress, and you imagine it must be written all over his face. One hand massages his balls, the other aids your movements as you bob your head up and down, careful not to make a noise. His legs twitch under the table when you push his cock all the way down to your throat, and he makes a strangled noise.

“Sweetie, are you sure you’re fine? You really don’t look like it.” Ms. Lee interjects again, interrupting her story.

“I’m fine ma’am, don’t worry about me.”, he says through gritted teeth, jaw clenched shut so hard he might break his teeth.

You give it all you’ve got until your jaw is aching and your knees are killing you. Your effort pays off when, with one last motion on your hands, James grunts and cums in your throat, hips jerking forward and legs shaking.

He comes so hard that you choke on his release.

“Did you hear it too?” she asks in alert.

“He-hear wh-what?” he stutters, pretending to cough to hide your noises.

“A choking sound?”

“Oh, no, don’t worry about that, just my cough.” he answers, red faced and spent.

“I guess…” she doesn’t sound convinced but lets it go anyways. She could never imagine her sweet priest is getting blown by a city whore under his desk, “I’ll get going then, but please get some rest Father, your holy duties can wait.”

They can indeed, you think, as James yanks you from underneath the table and bends you over the desk, fucking you until you’re crying.

-

“What makes you do the things you do?” he’s playing with your hair as he asks the question that’s been plaguing him for months, since that first time in the confessional.

You’re in a motel somewhere, two hours away from your town, laying on a bed like two lovers. In this room, you’re not a dirty little secret.

What excited you before, suffocates you now.

You thought you may only like the forbidden, but you find yourself at peace in his arms, that peace you’ve yearned for for 22 years, that peace you could never find, because people like you are born sick, that’s what you’ve been told your whole life.

“If I tell you, will you absolve me?” you ask, basking in his affection. 

James is so sweet, so caring. You wish this moment could last forever.

“I’m afraid I can’t do that, my love. I’ve sinned too much myself.”

“My bad.” you giggle.

Silence falls on you, and you hum in though, pondering your next words very carefully.

“I don’t do them for any reasons, other than they feel good. It feels good to drink, to smoke, to fuck you, to suck your cock.”, you say, and he blushes in embarrassment, “Or maybe I never got over my teenage phase and I just like doing all the things my parents always told me not to do, who knows. Trauma? Maybe. Spite? Quite possibly. I don’t even know at this point.”

He nods slowly. 

He wishes you could see yourself through his eyes, see how perfect you are. In his heart, there’s only love for you, in his mind, no more conflict.

“I do them for you.” he answers, and you smile at him, “And for myself, I guess. I thought I had found my way, but maybe I was wrong.”

You turn to look at him, and bop his nose.

“I’ll always love you, no matter what choice you make. I’ll wait for you if you ask me to.”

But his choice has been made already. 

He doesn’t deserve his collar, but hopefully he deserves you.

-

I’m curious to hear your thoughts. Please, reblog if you liked it and leave a comment. Feedback is always appreciated. 🤍

Priest bucky masterlist

[bcdwhcre]

could I request a jean x reader? The reader was in a relationship with Marco and after what happened to him, they were both always there for each other and eventually developed feelings for each other

“Fresh Starts,” Jean x Reader

Summary: After finding your dead boyfriend Marco, you and Jean cling onto each other for comfort and end up developing feelings.

Warnings: none

.

.

.

The first few days after finding out about Marco was very difficult for you. You couldn’t even get out of bed and go to work without feeling this intense weight pin you down and drag you across the floor. The deep rooted depression had clung onto you and kept you bound to the bed.

You had cried too many times to even count. All of your tears were gone and there was nothing left to cry so you would just lay in bed, lights off and stared up at the ceiling as you held onto Marco’s jacket.

Jean had tried to be there at first but he decided that maybe space is what you needed for the first few days, that is until you continued to stay in bed and not come out to even eat or work with the other Scouts.

He felt the same as you but he had put on a fake face and pretended like nothing was bothering him. He was angry and sad but he knew he couldn’t let it hang over his head and prevent him from working.

As he walked down the hallway towards your bedroom, he was holding a full plate of food he had made for you just because he knew you weren’t doing too well. He knew you needed someone to come and push you and comfort you so you can move on and not let this drag you.

Jean had knocked on the door but when you wouldn’t get up to answer, he had decided to let himself in and looked at you on the bed in a daze. He sighed, setting the plate down on the small table and opened up the curtains in your room to let some sun in.

“I made you breakfast, I know you’re hungry.” He tried to put on a happy mood for you, tried to be of some help to show you that being in bed like this wasn’t going to solve anything.

“I just want to be left alone, Jean.” You mumbled, your eyes moving to look up at him and he shook his head while forcing you to sit up.

“Not an option.” He sat down on the bed, grabbing the plate and setting it down on your lap.

“I’ll feed you if I need to.” His eyes stared down at you, the heavy feeling he felt in his chest and the pain that was hovering over him.

The guilt had hit him as he looked over your current state, he could tell you haven’t left your room or even tried to take care of yourself. Your hair was a mess, still in pajamas and have been for days.

He hated to see you like this but he knew how much Marco meant to you, shit- he meant a lot to him too and it pained him to see his own best friend dead. It felt like a bad dream, a nightmare he was going to wake up from and he knew sitting there that maybe you felt the same- stuck in a endless loop of hoping you’ll wake up.

You hesitated before grabbing the plate from your lap, picking up the fork and started to eat. Jean felt relieved and felt like a weight has been lifted off of him but he still felt weighed down.

After you were done eating, it was silent and you both had sat there soaking in each other’s company. You had suddenly forgot about everything for just a few minutes while you were eating but sitting there deep into thought had brought everything back.

It made your eyes start to fill up with tears and you shook your head, looking down at your hands as you fiddled with your fingers and when he looked down at you, he seen the one stray tear rolling down your face and falling down on your lap.

“I got an idea.. to help with the grief.” He offered, standing up from your bed and grabbed your shoes.

You weren’t completely upset that he was still here but it did make you feel uneasy with the company when you just wanted to be alone but at the same time his company felt somewhat good, it took some pressure off of your shoulders.

Your eyes watched Jean as he slipped your shoes on your feet and tied the laces before dragging you out of bed. A dramatic groan had slipped passed your lips, following him down the hallway and even debated snatching your arm back and running to your room again.

“Jean..” You spoke up, an uneasy feeling in the pit of your stomach the further you were away from your bedroom.

“C’mon, trust me on this.”

You closed your mouth, letting him lead you to one of the rooms where most of the weights were. It was basically one of the many training rooms that they had on the base including stuff outside to train with as well.

He had walked you over to the punching bag hanging off the hook and gestured towards it with a smile on his face, trying to ease up the mood and make you feel somewhat better.

“I think hitting the bag would help, get all your frustration out. Or you could punch me, that’s cool too.” He said, watching your eyebrows scrunch together as you stared at the punching bag.

Jean just wanted to help, he felt awful and he also felt obligated to take care of you after everything that had happened. He was close to Marco and now that he was gone, he felt like he needed to look after you for him.

After that day he had continued to stick by you and come in your room every morning with breakfast and stop by a few times to talk to you, help you in anyway he could and make sure you were taking care of yourself.

It was from that day that you two were soon inseparable. You both had helped each other in ways that you couldn’t explain. Jean was always helpful and caring, making sure your head was up right.

A few months had passed and everything started to feel lighter, everything started to lift off your shoulders and life started to get a little more easier to live through without Marco.

You were starting to feel a bit happier but of course you couldn’t just not think about Marco, he was always in your head but you were slowly accepting things for the way they were and living on just like how he would want you to.

Jean had started to make you happy, he made you laugh and always made you food to make you feel better. He always stayed in your room late at night just to make sure you weren’t sad or going to sleep crying like you used to.

And as time had flew by, you had found yourself developing feelings for Jean and at first you had beaten yourself up over it for days. The horrible memories of Marco’s death had flooded your head as you laid in bed late one night. Would he forgive you for liking his own best friend? Would you go to hell for this?

You really hated to admit that Jean was making you happier since Marco’s death.

You were terrified, you felt like you were betraying him and it just made you fall back into that depressing hole you were in before but Jean was quick to notice and worry once again.

His hand came up to knock on your door one random day after not hearing from you for almost a week. He had let himself in after a few minutes, seeing you in the state you were all those months ago- in bed and sulking.

“Hey, what’s the matter?” He asked, worried and all you did was just shrug your shoulders, how do you even tell him everything?

“You can talk to me, ya know. I don’t want you to feel like you’re battling stuff alone.” He said again, his feet making their way to your bed and sitting on the edge of it.

You sucked in a sharp breath, tilting your head to meet his gaze and the way his soft eyes had burned into yours, it made your heart race and it made the guilt shower down on you continuously.

“I feel like a terrible person..”

“What? Why?”

“Because I like my dead boyfriends best friend.” You abruptly said, watching his eyes grow wide and he began to stutter on his words.

Jean hated to admit that the last few months he had developed some feelings for you. You two hung out almost everyday, leaning on one another to help get through Marco’s death and it helped but it also pushed the two of you together.

He hated the fact that he let himself fall for you during the last six to seven months but it was nearly impossible not to fall for you. You two were always together and always cheering each other up, he started to see you in a better light and see that bright personality you had.

Of course he knew about it before, he was pretty close to you and Marco but now this was different, he’s seen it up close and personal and seen your beauty in many different ways and that made him start to develop feelings.

He thought about it a lot too, was this something good or was this stupid? Was he betraying his own friend for having these feelings? For thinking this way? He didn’t know and he leaned on Armin for advice and all he said was that maybe Marco would want the two of you to have each other.

“Feels wrong.” You mumbled after a while of silence, your eyes moving away from his as they began to water.

“It might feel wrong at first but.. if you continue to live your life feeling like you’re betraying Marco then you’ll just end up alone. It’s been over half a year, gotta move on eventually.” Jean said, not knowing exactly what was coming out of his mouth.. he sounded like Armin.

“Maybe you’re right..” You sat there in thought, wondering what would Marco think. You knew he wanted you to be happy, you both have had that talk numerous times because you both know that with this job, life isn’t guaranteed.

just promise me you’ll be happy afterwards, no sulking. His words had repeated in your head, breaking your heart all over again.

“Marco will always be here, Y/N but you can’t beat yourself up wondering if what you’re doing to be happy is wrong to him.” Jean trailed off, not really knowing what to say, he felt awkward.

“Do you feel the same?” You quietly said, your eyes meeting his again and suddenly it felt like his heart had stopped in place.

“Hate to admit that I do.”

“Then we’ll take it one day at a time.” You sighed, reaching over and grabbing onto his hand, holding onto it for dear life like the moment was going to be ripped away.

Jean had stared down at you, almost in complete shock. He loved Marco like a brother and he didn’t want to feel like he was betraying him but he also didn’t want to feel like he was pausing his life and pushing things away just because he felt that way.

You deserved to be happy, Jean wanted you to be more happy than him and he promised himself to do that for not only you but Marco.

Even if that meant the two of you were gravitated towards each other.

Even if that meant the two of you developed feelings.

And even if that meant the two of you end up together.

.

.

.

• Main Masterlist •

• AOT Masterlist •

[drabbles-mc]

Okay, so I wanted to bounce off of the anon's imagine for a juice spider fic, but I also want to see the guys' react to this situation. I know that would be asking a lot, so maybe a headcanon for how the boys would react? Can you imagine Tig's cheekiness/horniness, or Happy's deadpan reaction? Hell, even Chib's would be hilarious. I leave it to you

Since we’re doing this HC for multiple characters, I figured a list might be better than multiple fics. Hope that’s alright! Also threw Opie into the mix because I love him haha. Based off of This Fic

(Also currently drafting a fic that is a different version of this for Kozik for a different request which is why I didn’t include him in this)

Reaction to finding you screaming and naked outside the bathroom because of a spider- 

Tig:

For sure bursts into the room with his gun ready to shoot someone because he doesn't think that there’s any reason someone would scream that loud except if they’re about to be murdered

When he walked into the empty room he was insanely confused, but that confusion only lasted for about three seconds when he saw you standing outside the bathroom naked, dripping water all over his floor

He doesn’t even bother to ask what happened or what’s wrong as he makes his way over to you. You can see it in his eyes that he only has one thing on his mind, and it has nothing to do with the spider on the other side of the door

You push him back, telling him that he doesn’t get to lay a finger on you until he takes care of the monster living in his bathroom.

“It’s not going anywhere, c’mon, we can be quick,” he reached out to touch your hips. But you’re firm, keeping him at arm's length, “You don’t get to touch me until that spider is dead.”

He tries to protest, to sweet-talk you into forgetting about it, but you step away from him and point at the door. You make it very clear that the vibe in his dorm isn’t going to be a sexy one until you know that the eight-legged nightmare is dead and flushed down the toilet.

He rolls his eyes with a sigh but he begrudgingly opens the door to take care of the problem. You can hear him mumbling under his breath about how he can’t believe that you would really push him away over a spider and that he couldn't believe you expected him to see you standing there like that and think about anything other than having his hands all over you.

Despite your annoyance, you had to laugh at his frustration. He made quick work of the problem and came back out, a smirk on his face. He backed you towards the bed and both of you had to laugh at the entire situation

“Y’know, I might start keeping other weird shit in there if it means I get to walk in and see this all the time,” there was a cheeky grin on his face as he thought about it.

You shook your head, “I find any more spiders in there I’ll never be naked in this dorm again. You can count on it.”

Chibs:

If he had heard the scream coming from anywhere else, he would’ve been concerned. But he knew that there couldn't possibly be anything that terrible happening inside the shoebox of a room that passed for his dorm.

He found himself chuckling when he heard you yelling his name, telling him to “get the fuck in here now.”

He walked in and found you sitting on the bed, knees pulled up to your chest. He saw the trail of wet footprints leading from the bathroom to the bed and he had a million questions he felt like he should be asking.

“Do I even wanna know, love?” he was trying not to smile and failing miserably at it. You looked at him, “Do you like company when you shower?” Confusion came across his face, “What?” You repeated yourself, “Do you like company when you shower?” He laughed, “Only if it’s you.”

You shook your head, “Really? Because you have quite the friend hanging out in there waiting for you!” He couldn't even try to pretend that he understood what you were talking about, “Ye gotta start talkin’ sense to me. What the hell--” You cut him off, “There’s a giant fucking spider in there!”

Once he realized that that’s what it was, his laughter continued. He came over and stood by the edge of the bed, pushing the dripping hair back out of your face. He didn’t want to say what he was about to, but he couldn't lie to you, “Aye. I know. Keeps all the other bugs away.”

“You know?” in that moment you contemplated leaving him. If you hadn’t been naked you would’ve stormed right out of the room and left the compound. He held his hands up in mock surrender, “I hardly ever use the shower here! We leave each other alone!”

“Go kill it. Now.” It was plain as day on his face that he was amused but also didn’t really want to do what you were asking him to. He tried to reach out and caress your face but you pulled away, “C’mon, love. That just don’t seem fair. He’s just tryin’ ta do his job.” You started daggers at him, “Filip. I swear to god--”

“No need to bring God into this,” he chuckled as he made his way over to the bathroom, “I’ll take care of it for you.” He opened the bathroom door and took his boot off so he could squash the creature causing the issue.

A few moments later you were rewarded with the sound of his boot banging against the wall. He walked back out, pulling his shoe on as he did so. He shook his head as he walked over to you, “All taken care of.”

You allowed him to drape a fresh towel around your shoulders, “If you want a pet we can get a fucking cat or something. Or a dog for the clubhouse. But no more spiders.”

Happy:

He swung the door open to the room, the same angrily neutral expression on his face that he always had. He could hear the shower still running, and it made him wonder why exactly you were standing outside the door to the bathroom. He looked back and forth between you and the doorway, waiting for you to offer something up about what was going on.

“Why’d you scream?” his voice was gruff. You pointed towards the shower, “There’s a spider in your shower!”

His brows furrowed in confusion, “So? Kill it.” Your eyes went wide as you shook your head, “I’m not gonna kill it!” He tilted his head slightly, “Just gonna stand there naked and waste all the hot water, then?”

You huffed. You loved the man but sometimes you wanted to smack him repeatedly with a rolled-up newspaper. There were downsides to being with someone with a bloodlust like his, one of them being that he would never be able to wrap his head around being afraid of something like a spider.

“Can you just go kill it for me, Hap? Please?”

He didn’t say anything else to you about it but he did go over and walk into the bathroom. He shut the shower off and after a few moments of him looking around, he lifted his foot and kicked the wall of the shower where the spider had been, a brief grunt falling from his lips as he did so.

He walked back out to you, “It’s dead now.” You had to laugh at his deadpan delivery of the statement, “Thank you.” He grabbed a towel and handed it to you, “You should get used to killing stuff. You chuckled, “Yea. I’ll get to work on that.”

Opie:

He walked in and saw you frantically waving him over. He shut the door behind him, not wanting anyone to walk by and see you. You were holding the bathroom door shut like you were trying to lock someone inside.

“Who you got in there?” it was hard for him to not find the situation at least a little comical. He reached and grabbed a shirt off the top of his dresser and handed it to you. “Not who,” you shook your head as you quickly pulled his shirt on, swimming in the fabric.

“What’s going on?” he reached for the doorknob but you beat him to it. You waited for him to look at you, “There’s a spider in there.” The confusion and concern melted away from his face as he laughed, “A spider?” You slapped his chest, “Don’t laugh! Thing has legs as long as yours.” He smiled and shook his head at you, “I doubt that.”

You hand him a shoe that had been cast aside by his dresser. He shook his head and waved you off, “I think I’ll be alright.” You stepped back as he walked into the bathroom and shut the door behind himself. There were the quiet sounds of him scuffling around on the other side of the door.

A minute later you heard the flush of the toilet and let out a sigh of relief. He opened the door and smiled at you, “All gone.” You peaked around him and did a quick scan of the room, as if to make sure he was telling you the truth.

He pulled you against him and pressed a kiss into the dripping wet hair on top of your head. You could tell by the look in his eyes that he was thinking of another smart comment to make so you quickly started pushing him back towards the door. He laughed as he allowed himself to be escorted.

“Just bring me in to do your dirty work?” You laughed as you stood on the other side of the doorway from him. You didn’t justify the comment with a response as you shut the door on him. His laughter made it’s way through the walls between you, “I love you!” he called to you. You rolled your eyes despite the fact that you couldn’t see him, “I love you too, even though you raise monsters in your shower.”

These were super fun to write!! Hope you enjoyed them. xo