#the green that they are both wearing goes very well together

[leaderwonim]

❀﹐𝐒𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐒𝐍𝐎𝐖

pairing: park sunghoon x fem!reader

synopsis: in which married couple park sunghoon and park y/n are on their way to court to divorce when they suddenly get into a car crash, losing their memories entirely. over time, they start to fall inlove with each other all over again.

genre: angst, exes to lovers + strangers to lovers (ynhoon are soulmates your honor!!) fluff

“You are the most immature person I have ever met!” You shout, “I should’ve never married you in the first place!”

“Finally, something we can both agree on.” Sunghoon seethes, and you just know the taxi driver is uncomfortable by the way he’s awkwardly looking in the car mirror.

The both of you crossed your arms stubbornly, huffing like little children who just threw a tantrum.

The only reason why you and Sunghoon were getting a divorce in the first place was because he was so busy at his office, inheriting the CEO position from his father just months earlier.

You felt lonely, and it really didn’t help that Sunghoon didn’t give you any reassurance because he was too tired.

“Aish, why is this red light taking so long?” Sunghoon angrily mumbles underneath his breath.

“Well maybe it’s your negative energy.”

“Can you be mature once in your life?” Sunghoon snaps back.

The taxi driver, very annoyed with the both of you, continues driving when the light turns green.

Then all of a sudden, a car rams through the intersection, crashing directly into the taxi.

You scream, and Sunghoon instantly puts his arms around your frame, shielding you.

Then, all goes black.

For a second, you could see the day that you and Sunghoon got married.

It was a Sunday, at the beautiful church nearby Sunghoon’s parents house, and you were wearing what Sunghoon called the most beautiful dress he’d ever seen. It was plain white, but long and so beautifully designed that it didn’t need any other colors.

When you arrived at the altar, Sunghoon had bursted into tears. Some of his friends, Jake, who had traveled all the way from Australia to attend, patted the boy on back as comfort.

That day was nonetheless the happiest day of your life. You don’t know if Sunghoon feels the same, and looking back, it feels like such a shame that you’re throwing it all down the drain.

❀﹐

BLEEP. BLEEP.

Your body jolts awake, head practically killing you with the amount of ache it produced as you tried to sit up.

“Patient is up!” The nurse says before walking into your room with a tray. “Good morning, are you feeling okay?”

You raise your hands to touch your head, which was bandaged by some soft tissue material.

“Where am I?” You say, looking around the room. You spot a unknown man groggily getting up, and for a second, you can’t help but notice how handsome he was.

That was besides the point, though.

“You’re in the hospital.” The nurse says, smiling softly. “Do you remember the events leading up to this?”

“I.. I don’t remember anything, actually.”

The nurse still smiles at you reassuringly. “It’s alright lovebug, it seems as though you two have lost your memories.”

“Us two?” You question.

“Yes.” She points to the guy on the other bed right next to you who just looked like he woke up from death. He too looked badly injured like you, having a broken hand and bandage around his head. “Park Sunghoon-ssi was in the same car as you and got injured as well.”

Park Sunghoon. Why did that name sound so familiar?

“Well since you're both awake," she said, relief evident in her voice. "You've been in an accident. Do you remember anything Sunghoon-ssi?”

Sunghoon shook his head slowly. "No... I don't remember anything."

The nurse nodded, sympathy in her eyes. “It's not uncommon for victims to lose their memories after a traumatic accident. Memory loss can be temporary. Just focus on resting for now.”

The nurse leaves the room, leaving you and Sunghoon alone.

“She said we were in the same car together,” you say slowly. “But I really can’t remember what you are to me.”

Sunghoon shrugs. “Me either. All I remember vividly is my parents. You must’ve been an acquaintance of mine, then.”

You nod, stretching your limbs. “You got more injured than me.”

He lets out an airy chuckle, lifting his broken arm which was in a cast into the air. “Yep, broken arm.”

You want to remember so badly what had happened leading up to all of this. What were you doing? Where were you going, and why were you with this Park Sunghoon guy in the first place?

“What did you get for breakfast?”

Sunghoon breaks the silence between the two of you, and you slowly look down at the tray in front of your bed.

“Uh, the nurse got me tiramisu and oatmeal.”

“Tiramisu?” Sunghoon’s mood automatically brightens up. “Can we please switch sweets? I really love tiramisu.”

You laugh at his childlike behavior, but nod anyway. “I’ll bring it to you Sunghoon, wait.”

You don’t know why, but it feels so right saying his name. Sunghoon must’ve felt the same way, because he swore his mouth went dry at you calling out his name.

You carefully make your way out your hospital bed, making sure not to accidentally detach any monitors that were attached to you. Grabbing the tiramisu cup, you make your way over to Sunghoon, who’s already shaking in excitement.

Then you make your way back, opening the lid of your oatmeal bowl.

“I may not know what happened in the accident,” Sunghoon says. “But I know this tiramisu is so fucking good.”

You shake your head, laughing at his words. “Yah Sunghoon, you think we were best friends before all of this?”

“Maybe.” He mutters, the mascarpone cheese of the tiramisu leaving a mark on the side of his lips.

“Well our humor is alike.” You say. “Would explain why we were in the same car together. Maybe we were going out to lunch.”

The rest of the day was spent with Sunghoon and you cracking jokes then and there, the awkwardness of the two of you being strangers quickly faded.

❀﹐

The next day, you were given tiramisu once again while Sunghoon was given cookies.

You descended from your bed, once again, and gave the tiramisu cup to Sunghoon while you grabbed his bag of cookies.

“You know what’s funny?” You say, biting into the warm chocolate chip cookie.

“What?” He says, although it’s muffled from the amount of tiramisu he’s stuffed into his mouth.

“Yah, you gotta stop doing that, it’s gross.”

Sunghoon sticks his tongue out at you, which makes you giggle.

“We’re both Parks, isn’t that funny?”

“Huh,” Sunghoon looks up at the ceiling, thinking for a brief second. “Park Sunghoon and Park Y/N. That is funny.”

Maybe both of your humors are broken because you hit your head too hard during the crash, but even though you were at the hospital, you’re glad you have someone like Sunghoon to keep you company.

“Do you want to watch the stars with me tonight at the balcony?” You ask the boy, who nods softly.

“I’d love to, actually.”

And that’s what the two of you did. By the time it hit 10pm, you two tiptoed out to the balcony, making sure to not let any of the night nurses see you.

“Whoaaa, it’s beautiful.” Sunghoon says, letting his broken arm lean against the railing. “Why didn’t we do this sooner?”

You smile, leaning your head on Sunghoon’s shoulder.

“Sunghoon.” You say, voice barely above a whisper.

“Yeah?”

“I’m not sure what we were before the accident,” you stop for a second. “But I’m glad we knew each other.”

Sunghoon turns his head to look down at your face, his expression morphed into a genuine smile. “I’m glad we knew each other too Y/N.”

That night, you slept the most compared to the other nights at the hospital. In your dreams, you see Sunghoon—only instead of being at the hospital bed right beside you, he’s in the kitchen, wearing a black suit.

“You look nice today.”

“Thank you baby.” Sunghoon leans down to give you a kiss on the lips. “Is that tiramisu?”

You nod, your eyes full of love. “Of course, you’ve been working so hard so I decided to make your favorite.”

He wraps his arms around your waist, letting the two of you swing back and forth slowly. “Thank you my love, I seriously don’t know what I would do without you.”

You woke up in a cold sweat, the dream feeling all too real.

“What’s wrong?” Sunghoon says, and you swore your heart almost leaped out of your chest, not expecting the brunette boy to be awake.

“It’s 2am, why are you even awake?” You say croakily, hands coming to rub your tired eyes.

“Couldn’t sleep.” He shrugs. “Hey, I had a really weird dream just now.”

“Me too.” You say, “you were in it.”

Sunghoon raises an eyebrow, but doesn’t further question it. “You were a lawyer in my dream, you just graduated from Seoul University. We bought a house, and you told me you wanted to continue with your career.”

At least his dream was somewhat normal, you think. I can’t just tell him I dreamt of us being together and being all lovey dovey. He’d be thrown into a coma!

“Ah, mine was similar.”

Nice save Y/N.

Sunghoon suddenly gets up from his bed, deciding to sit at the dining table the nurses had brought out for the two of you yesterday night.

“Come sit with me.”

You slowly creep out of your bed, sitting on the empty seat next to Sunghoon.

Suddenly, you’re hit with a sudden pounding headache.

“You’re the worst, Sunghoon!” You scream on the top of your lungs, “I hate you! I hate you!”

“Stop screaming!” He grabs your arms gently, eyes directly looking into yours. “Y/N-ah, stop it.”

“So I’m Y/N to you now?” Your voice breaks. “No more baby or love? Am I just another person to you Sunghoon?”

“Of course not, why would you say that?” He pinches the bridge of his nose, taking in a deep inhale. “Let’s just talk about this calmly, okay?”

“What’s there to talk about? You are never home, you’re always cooped up in your office! We might as well get a divorce!”

Sunghoon’s hold on your shoulder makes you snap out of your daze.

“Hey, you okay?” He says concernedly, “you were breathing heavily.”

“What?” You gasp. “Yeah—yeah, I’m okay. I just think I had a flashback.”

“Really? What was it?”

You don’t want to tell Sunghoon that it was the two of you fighting. Why did you even mention divorcing in the flashback? Were you and Sunghoon something more than just friends?

“Just the crash.” You say. You want to tell him the truth, you really do, but you’re not sure if these were hallucinations from how hard your head was hit during the trauma or if they were actual flashbacks.

“Well, I’m here.” Sunghoon whispers reassuringly. “I’ll always be here. We survived a car crash together anyway, we’re kinda bonded to each other.”

You laugh, smacking him on his shoulder softly. “You’re insane.”

“Maybe.”

❀﹐

“Do you remember what your passion was before all of this?” Sunghoon asks, peeling his orange with his injured hand.

“I haven’t really thought about it,” you say, “l think I really would’ve liked becoming a mother. I love kids, the thought of them makes me happy.”

“I think you would be a great mother.” Sunghoon says quietly. “Even though we don’t know each other much, I can tell you’re loving.”

You look down at your lap, trying to suppress the bright smile forming at the corner of your lips.

“Thanks Hoonie.”

“Hoonie?”

Your eyes widened. “I’m sorry! Did I make you uncomfortable? I should’ve not—”

“It’s okay Y/N,” he chuckles. “It’s fine. I like it.”

You can’t help but laugh along with him. “Okay.”

The next few days go by quickly, with you and Sunghoon already warming up to each other.

You were both comfortable enough to speak your thoughts freely around one another, no matter how silly or ridiculous some of them seemed.

When the nurses brought you two breakfast, Sunghoon almost dropped his fork in shock.

“They gave me tiramisu.” He says, eyes glistening with joy. “They finally gave me tiramisu.”

“I don’t know why you’re so excited.” You snicker jokingly. “You’ve been eating my tiramisu this entire week.”

He turns around to look at your tray, which had a bag of snickerdoodle cookies on it.

With shaking limbs, he makes his way over, handing the tiramisu cup to you and swapping it with your cookies.

“I thought you hated snickerdoodle cookies, Hoon?” You ask, eyebrows furrowed.

“I do.” He admits. “But you’ve given me your tiramisu all week, I wanted you to have mine this time.”

Your heart swells at that, and you point your spoon at him accusingly.

“Yah, is this because you want my chocolate pudding at dinner?” You joke.

“Pffft, what? Nooo.” He quickly defends himself. “But if you’re willing to share—”

“Shut up Park Sunghoon!”

“Yes ma’am!”

❀﹐

You don’t know why, but you’re starting to feel giddy whenever you talk with Sunghoon.

Your palms does this thing where it sweats profusely, and your tongue feels like dried sandpaper.

There’s no way you like Park Sunghoon, right? You’ve barely known the guy for two weeks, so why was the heart racing at the thought of him?

“I’ve convinced the nurses to get us two bottles of coca cola,” Sunghoon says, practically jumping up and down as he entered the room.

“Really? Out of all the drinks you could’ve persuaded them to get us, you got us coke.”

“Don’t diss Coca Cola like that!” Sunghoon says, crossing his arms.

Just like Sunghoon had said, the nurse approaches the two of you an hour later, 2 bottles of coca cola in her hands. She hands one to Sunghoon, then to you.

"Enjoy." She says, smile reaching her eyes.

Sunghoon's eyes light up when he opens the bottle and takes a sip. "Ah, for some reason, this feels so nostalgic."

A little memory pops up in his head, one of him playing at the park with his mom and younger sister.

"Sunghoon-oppa! Mom says she brought us coca cola!" The young girl, Yeji, says. "C'mon! Come with me!"

The young Park Sunghoon lets his younger sister take his hand, running towards their mom who was on the other side of the park.

"What's wrong Sunghoon-ssi?" You ask, noticing how his thick eyebrows were furrowed and his grip on the bottle had tightened.

"Huh?"

"You zoned out for a bit."

He chuckles nervously, glancing around the room. "Sorry, I think I just had a flashback." He says. "Park Yeji."

"Who?"

"My younger sister." He explains. "I could see her clearly. I wonder where she is right now."

You too wondered where your family was. Maybe they were too busy to come visit you. You could briefly remember having a younger brother. Jungwon. Yang Jungwon.

"Cheers." He says, mood changing quickly. His canines shined brightly as he smiled, making him look all too gorgeous in your eyes. "To the car crash, for bringing me and Park Y/N together."

You giggle, raising your bottle in the air. "Cheers to the car crash, for bonding me with this weird guy named Sunghoon."

"Yah!"

❀﹐

"Is it weird?"

"Hm?"

It's 11pm, and you and Sunghoon face each other as you're both laying on opposite ends of the room.

"That we've known each other for only a few weeks and I already feel like I've known you for an entire lifetime?"

You smile at his words, shaking your head. "No, I feel the same way Hoonie."

"Would it be stupid to say out loud how much I want to kiss you right now?"

Your mouth almost drops at his boldness, but you quickly shake your head.

Sunghoon takes your silence as approval, sitting up to come over to your side.

He brushes the hair away from your face, leaning in to close the gap between your lips.

When the both of you pull away, you automatically lean in again, the feel of his lips on yours felt so right.

"I love you Sunghoon." You say as you cup his cheeks. "I don't want to fight anymore."

"I know," he whispers. "I love you. Cause even though we were both going down, we were going down together."

"I hate you." You say, a smile playing on your face. "I hate you for being the only person who I can't stay mad at."

"And I love you," he says. "For being there for me, always."

"Sunghoon."

"Hm?"

"I love you."

He smiles down at you, uninjured hand coming to hold yours. "I love you too."

❀﹐

"What?" You say flabbergasted.

The next morning was the date of both yours and Sunghoon's discharge, and both your families decided to come visit.

"You two were married." Your father explains, a bewildered expression on his face. "How could you not know? Was the Park Y/N not obvious?"

"I thought that was just my last name!" You say, defending yourself.

"Your last name is Yang, noona." Your little brother speaks up. It was Jungwon, the same boy you kept seeing in your flashbacks, only this time, his face looks more clear and matured. "It was before you married Sunghoon-hyung."

"You're telling me we got married and divorced?" Sunghoon says, stuttering over his own words.

"Yes son," Sunghoon's mother explains. "Well, not quite exactly. We don't know why you guys wanted to divorce, you kind of shut yourselves out when you were arguing. You didn't officially divorce yet, you got into an accident on the way to court."

That made so much sense now. The flashbacks of arguments between you and Sunghoon, the makeups after the arguments, the cute moments, everything. It started to all click in your head.

"You still share houses and everything, the lawyers had to put your case on hold because you were both hospitalized." Jungwon says. "We were here to pick you up separately, in case you weren't comfortable staying with each other."

"It's fine." You and Sunghoon both say at the same time.

"Are you sure honey?" Sunghoon's mom asks concernedly.

"Yes mom, I'm sure."

The drive home was awkward, you both drove in different cars but to the home you had bought before the accident happened.

"Noona," Jungwon calls out to you. Your parents are still in the car, looking at the scene in front of them.

"Yes Jungwon?"

"Listen, I may not know a lot about love," he says, "but I know what you and Sunghoon-hyung have is real. I could still see somewhere in his eyes that he remembers parts of you and he still loves you whether or not his memories came back or not. I could tell you love him too. I don't know why the two of you decided to divorce but I know you called me crying hysterically because of it. I just think you two needed to talk it out, without the lawyers, without the paperwork. You two are the two most stubborn people I know, but also the two most loving people I know, you wouldn't just leave each other like that."

You want to cry at your younger brother's words, tears already leaking from your eyes. "Thank you Won."

You reach your arms out to hug him, a hug that he instantly melts into. "I love you noona."

"I love you too."

❀﹐

"This isn't what we expected, huh?" Sunghoon says, leaning his head on the marble island in the middle of your kitchen. "This whole time I thought you were my best friend, turns out you were my soon to be ex-wife."

You laugh quietly at the irony of the whole situation. "Whatever we were in the past is in the past Hoon."

He nods. "I can't believe we were going to divorce."

"I can't believe it either."

"You know what my mom told me in the car?" Sunghoon sits up straight to look at you. "The reason I have a broken arm and you don't was because during the crash, I put my arms around yours to protect you. Isn't that funny? Even though we hated each other at that moment, my first instinct was to protect you."

You stay still at that, his words sinking into your brain.

"It's like the universe wanted us to be together." You say quietly.

"Hey Y/N?"

You turn around to face Sunghoon. "Yeah?"

"I'm glad I married you."

Even though you and Sunghoon aren't sure where you stand in terms of relationship, all you know is that you love him, and that is enough for the both of you.

[stevieschrodinger]

Part One Twenty

Steve gets dressed fast, his brain kind of fixating on the memory of Eddie’s...penis? Wriggling it’s way across his skin. The way the head or...face, had slowly started to open up.

Jesus Christ.

They can just never have sex. Or be naked together. Ever. That’s fine. That’s absolutely the most normal and logical way to play this. Steve stops, one leg in and one leg out of his pants...what if it bites?

“Stee love?” Eddie’s still wrapped in a towel, wearing it kind of toga style, wrapped firmly under his armpits. He already has his hat back on. He’s fidgeting with the edge of the material.

Eddie used to be half fish anyway, so it’s not like Steve was expecting an involved sexual relationship when...when he thought Eddie was going to die. Steve feels like absolute shit for thinking it, but there was never any commitment before, their relationship had a very definite end. Which, yes, okay, had the positive effect of Steve just...completely by passing any kind of sexuality crisis.

Or species crisis.

But now...now he’s in it for the long haul. And Eddie may want intimacy. Hell, Steve would quite like some intimacy. When Eddie just had a...well, a parting, like a girl, Steve hadn’t given it much thought really, Eddie’s only just freshly legged. Eddie only just now has a real life span. Steve just kind of figured they'd...work something out at some point.

They are probably still going to have to do that.

“Stee love?” Eddie asks again, more quietly this time, uncertain. Steve hates that he’s probably the cause of that.

He still wants the defense of pants though, right now, while he...processes things.

“Right, Yeah,” Steve forces his brain back on line; whatever that was, Eddie was fine with it. And it’s a part of Eddie, clearly...so. Steve needs to just get over this real fast, “what do you want to wear? You can choose.”

“Choose,” Eddie goes to the closet, pulling out some draw string sweat pants and the sweater Joyce made for him.

He takes the towel off, leaving it on the bottom of the bed. The slit is clearly closed; Steve can’t see any evidence of anything. He’s so entranced, staring at the space between Eddie’s legs, that Eddie manages to get a leg in before Steve thinks to intervene, “wait, baby, boxers first.”

Steve gets them, Eddie pulling his leg out, turning the pants inside out in the process. He puts the boxers on backwards, but Steve figures it doesn’t matter since he’s got to sit to pee anyway. Eddie’s clearly confused by one leg being inside out, so Steve helps him fix it.

Watching Eddie put on the sweater is a bit of an experience, it starts off going on over his head sideways, one arm hanging from Eddie’s chest, so Eddie twists and sticks an arm in there, forcing it to straighten before he puts the other one in.

“Uhm,” Steve says, staring at the fully six inches of belly buttonless exposed midriff Eddie’s left with, “maybe we should put a tee shirt on underneath.”

“Underneath,” Eddie cocks his head.

Steve gets him a shirt, helping him back out of the sweater, into the tee shirt, then back into the sweater. The shirt is pastel blue, the sweat pants gray, the sweater red and green. It’s a bit of a look, especially with the bobble hat, but Eddie grins big as Steve finishes dressing himself. Eddie watches closely as Steve puts his socks on, and then goes and gets himself a balled up pair from the drawer.

He sits on the edge of the bed, next to Steve, unballing the socks, one immediately falling to the floor, Eddie clearly not expecting what would happen as he unraveled them. He gets them on okay, apart from one being upside down, so the heel is on the top of his foot. He’s pulled both of them up over the top of the ankle cuffs of his pants.

“My boyfriend is a fashion disaster,” Steve comes to terms with it pretty fast; it’s just Eddie being...Eddie.

“Called boyfriend? Called...fashion disaster?” Eddie sounds the words out carefully.

“Oh boy,” Steve sighs, “here, let me at least fix the socks,” Steve kneels, twisting one sock the right way around and then pulling the cuffs of his pants out so they’re over the top. It reminds him of the ring, kneeling in front of Eddie like this; Steve touches it, where Eddie’s hands rest on his thighs. He might not of exactly intentionally put the ring on that finger in the moment, but now that he realizes what he’s done he definitely likes it. “Boyfriends means I love you, and you love me.”

Eddie nods.

“It’s not the same as friend love...so I love Birdie, but it’s different, to how I love you...I won’t kiss anyone, except you, you understand? I love Birdie, and the kids, and Nancy and John and Joyce and...Hopper, I guess. I love them and I care about them, but…”

“Love Eddidie more good.”

“Yeah, yeah baby.”

Eddie nods, “Eddidie love Stee. Perfect love. Kiss Stee. Not kiss not Stee,” Eddie’s so earnest as he looks down at Steve. His eyes are much better, only vague traces of where they were bloodshot, the lids no longer red or swollen.

Steve snorts a laugh, “so you won’t kiss anyone else,” he says slowly, “you won’t kiss other people.”

“People. Stee. Eddidie. Kids. Hopper. El. Joyce…”

“All,” Steve makes a large encompassing gesture with his hands, “all people.”

“Not kiss all people. Kiss Stee,” Eddie tells him, almost desperate, “love Stee.”

“Love you too baby.”

Eddie’s face crumples for a moment, and for that horrible second Steve thinks Eddie’s going to cry, he certainly looks on the verge of it, big brown eyes liquid, when he says, “Eddidie sorry.”

“Sorry for what baby?” Steve rubs at Eddie’s thigh through the material of his sweat pants, trying to comfort him.

“Eddidie different.”

“I...yeah. Yeah but it’s okay, it’s fine-”

“Not. Stee scared.”

Steve sighs, well fuck, he thinks. “I was just…you are different, okay. But it’s fine, okay, it’s good, I was just...surprised. Okay? Not bad. Not bad I promise.”

“Perfect true? Promise? Eddidie not bad?”

“You’re not bad. I promise okay, it’s fine. It’s fine.”

“Touch more? Kiss?” Eddie asks uncertainly, and for the first time ever, Eddie won’t look at Steve when he speaks. He’s staring down at his own knees instead. It guts Steve a little.

“I...yeah. Yeah...later?”

“Today?” Eddie looks up, so earnest still.

He clearly needs reassurance and Steve feels like an absolute shit for making Eddie feel this way. He really didn’t mean to, his response was pure instinct, he really had no control over it, “maybe today...maybe tomorrow? Soon, okay. I promise soon.”

Eddie nods in agreement, but he looks...wilted.

“Come on, you wanted cobbler? And we can watch ‘Splash’?” Steve knows it’s distraction through bribery, but he just needs a little time to process.

Eddie brightens immediately, nodding, “cobbler many good.”

Tom Hanks is under a table, trying to dry Daryl Hannah’s mermaid tail away with his dress tie. Eddie is fascinated. He’s sitting forward in his seat, watching, enraptured.

The phone rings, but Eddie barely registers it, so Steve leaves him to it.

“Hey kid it’s Hopper, you still want a ride to your appointment tomorrow?”

And actually, Steve had more or less forgotten, “uhm...no, I think I’ll be okay,” Steve’s pretty sure he’s up for driving, he can get a shoe on no issue now as long as he’s careful.

“All right, I’m going to need some I.D. photos of Eddie for his documents, think you can manage that?”

“Yeah, yeah Hop, should be able to do that tomorrow. We need groceries anyway.”

“Right, well don’t forget he can’t wear that hat in the photos.”

Shit, Steve thinks, “might have to wait then, I mean his ears are kind of pointy.”

Hopper hums, “what about a wig? Like a fancy dress one that looks like his hair, just for the photos?”

“That...could work, but where-”

Hopper sighs down the phone, and it sounds like it pains him to admit, “I might have something.”

“Again?” Eddie asks, the second the film finishes, “Madison good.”

“Later baby, Joyce is coming over.”

Eddie immediately perks up, “Christmas food?”

Steve laughs, “no, something else, but are you hungry?” Eddie nods, “okay, I can make us something quick.”

“Here honey, sit down,” Joyce indicates a chair for Eddie, “I’m not sure how well this will curl, but if I just spray it down and twist it up, it might be curly tomorrow.”

Eddie sits, letting Joyce fit the wig on his head. It’s obviously false, and nothing like Eddie’s real hair, but the transformation is still immediate. It makes Eddie look healthier, more like himself. Joyce hums to herself as she brushes it out, Eddie fiddling with the ends.

“And why do you have this?”

“I told you kid, no questions.”

“Oh don’t be such a grouch Hop,” Joyce chastises him, smiling, “we went to a costume party for Halloween, we were Sonny and Cher.”

Steve can’t help the shit eating grin he turns on Hopper, “of course you were,” Hopper just rolls his eyes and mooches a beer out of the fridge.

“Eddie I’m going to cut some off this okay? I’ll try and get it about right for you okay?”

“Okay,” Eddie says, sounding bemused, “thank you Joyce.”

“Such good manners honey, you’re very welcome.”

“Called manners?”

“Oh...well it mean you always remember to say please and thank you.”

“Please and thank you.”

Steve watches them chatting away, vaguely listening to them talk as Joyce asks Eddie which were his favorite parts of Christmas; she seems genuinely thrilled that Eddie is wearing the sweater she made.

Hopper’s leaning against the counter with his beer, “kid we gotta do something about the pool.”

For a moment, the words resurface a truly horrific set of memories that bring Steve up short. Just for a second, he almost can’t breathe, and then it passes, “look Hop, that day, I’m...I shouldn’t have shouted, the way that I did-”

“Kid, I’m old enough to know when I was wrong,” he looks over at where Joyce is snipping bits off Eddie’s ‘hair,’ “and I was wrong.”

Steve looks out the window with Hopper; it’s cold out there, a thin layer of fresh snow decorates the lawn with patchy white splotches. Steve can see what Hopper means though; Steve’s pool chair is nearly black with vines. Hopper moves, clearly intending to head out there; Steve heads into the hall, slipping on his sneakers carefully and grabbing a jacket and some gloves.

He meets Hopper, looking down at the vines and the shitty murky crap in the bottom; Hopper flicks his cigarette end into the muck.

He sighs, “what you got in the shed?”

They had drained the pool as much as they could, but the pump soon started to protest the sludge, so they turned it off and then Steve ran it through with buckets of clean water from the hose. Hopper’s in there, double layers of trash bags taped to his thighs and a bandana mask over his mouth and nose. Joyce and Eddie have a shovel and a fork between them, standing on the pool edge, scraping the vines off the edge and the tiles so they drop into the black muck at the bottom. They’re dead and brittle, snapping and breaking off easily, leaving little puffs of grey dust to float down after the chunks fall.

Steve runs back and forth, sneakers dirty as he goes as far in as he dares, shoveling and moving buckets and then the wheelbarrow to Hopper’s instruction. There’s a clear set of footprints and wheel marks across the lawn and snow, into the trees where Steve’s been dumping all this is in the hopes the melting snow and rain will wash it all away.

They work for a couple of hours before the dark finally drives them back inside, but the pool does look much improved. Steve figures if he can get out there in the day and spend a good few hours on it, he could definitely clear the worst of it. It’s gross, but no where near as deep as Steve feared it would be.

“Once we get near to the end we can put a couple of feet of water in, then just get in and scrub and the pump should do the rest,” Hopper tells him, “you got your appointment tomorrow, but I’ll drop by the day after?”

“Thanks...thanks so much Hopper, I really really appreciate this.”

Hopper shrugs, “I’ll bring Jon, he can help.”

“Thank you Hopper,” Eddie tells him, too.

“Kid, really, it’s fine. No pine cones necessary.”

Part TwentyTwo

[buckyalpine]

An idea!

Maybe an FWB situation with BestestFriend!BuckyxAvenger!Reader they do it mostly for Bucky after a long, gruesome, taxing mission. Bucky made it clear that no feelings must be involved. He also made it clear that he’s not into her as he is still very much inlove and hung up with his ex. Basically this FWB situation mostly benefits Bucky, even Nat thinks it’s not really a FWB, just Bucky using her. But she doesn’t mind. Bucky is a good fuck. Like damnnn good. And if she can’t have Bucky as a romantic partner, she’ll take what she can get. Besides, Bucky told her that he doesn’t want an avenger or an agent as a partner. Too much danger and chaos for his heart. He wants to love a civilian like his ex, in hopes of living a normal life after retiring.

So, she starts distancing herself when she sees Bucky slowly trying to get back with his ex. Less sex, more excuses. But for some reason? Bucky does not like it. He does not like how you were not there anymore, how you don’t need nor seek him for the “benefit,” he’s also not that happy with whatever he’s doing to win his ex back. She doesn’t necessarily reject him when he asks for sex, just avoids him all in all. Day by day though, she consumes his thoughts and mind. Did he do something wrong? Say something? Forget something? What did he do to deserve this treatment from her? Bottom line, he misses her. What’s weird is, she’s still there as his best friend when he needs either steve or her. Just less of that benefits part

Then it grows progressively worse (for Bucky) from there as he sees her bring one night stands, to consistent and stable dates in their home. He’s still happy tho Bc if the date goes wrong or the one night stand doesn’t satisfy her, she goes to Bucky for a satisfying sex.

However, what pushes Bucky over the edge was one night filled with passion. Both of them feels this sex is different. One thinks he’s doing and feeling this extreme emotion Bc he’s angry while the other thinks she’s just frustrated. But the truth is? It’s passion and connection between them. She feels so good that she can’t help but blurt out “oh god I wish my future boyfriend/husband could fuck and fill me up like you do”

That’s it for Bucky. Those words are enough to make him feral. Just the thought of another man giving her attention, affection, love, adoration, and faithfulness makes him sick to the core. So, He fucks her with all his might, all his feelings. He fucks her with all the possessiveness and the green monster inside him. He fucks her in hopes of filling her full and deep that no other man can reach and own her like he does. (Maybe even breed her so that no man would actually be with her, but him)

Bc how bold of her to think that he would let another man touch her. That he would let her wear someone else’s ring and last name? That he would let her carry another man’s babies? No. Absolutely not.

Obviously this confuses her, but she thinks of it as part of their play. Maybe heat of the moment? Whatever it is, it’s hot and made their sex better so she didn’t question Bucky as of the moment.

Come next morning, she wakes up buried in bucky’s arms tightly and securedly wrapped around her as if she would disappear any moment. She has things to do so she attempts to leave but this just wakes Bucky up. She was abt to say something but Bucky just kisses her passionately yes Bucky now admits what it is. Not letting her go and aiming for another hot steamy possessive sex. Her words from last night ringing in his ears as she tries to leave.

Idk what to do next, I just want them to be happy and together in the end (maybe fast forward to their wedding? To them having twins?) 😭 then maybe the last line was like “well my love, you’re lucky your husband could fuck and fill you just like I did when we were fuck buddies”

18+

This is so perfect, i love this and that ending line is sending me, its so angsty and steamy and fuck it's so cute. Literally had to pull out a google doc to paste the request so I could look at my draft and the points side by side cause of all the details, I’m so sorry if I missed anything 

-

“Strictly sex?”

“Strictly sex” 

Bucky’s lips smashed onto yours as soon as the words left your mouth, the both of you clawing off your tactical gear, throwing it off haphazardly. You didn’t even make it to the bedroom; Bucky had taken you right in the middle of the safe house floor, no prep, sliding into you and fucking you till the sun was up. 

Moments earlier

The mission was long. Stressful. Violent. Bloody. You weren’t even sure if you’d make it but you’d both made it out alive. You’d noticed Bucky on edge the entire time, his jaw clenched, fingers twitching while you tried to patch up a few scratches on yourself. 

“You okay Buck?”

“M’fine” He mumbled, closing his eyes and letting his head fall back, resting on the wall of the jet letting out a strained groan. 

“You don’t seem fine” You gave him a pointed look, clearly not believing him. “What do you normally do to relax” You cocked an eyebrow while Bucky stared at you, his eyes turning a shade darker. 

“Fuck” His eyes bore into you, challenging you to ask more questions, his patience wearing thin. “I fuck” 

“I can help with that” 

*****

“So what’s with you and y/n?” 

“Nothin’“

“You’re saying there's nothing?”

“I- I’m not over Lauren yet” Bucky shrugged, his mind constantly clinging onto his ex. She was the first girl he had dated in years and the first girl he felt anything for in a long time. The break up was mutual; his job took up long hours and the longer he was away, the more they grew apart. The split was made sense but he couldn’t let go of the lingering feeling in the back of his mind about how things would have been if he had just tried harder. Bucky set down the mug he was drinking from, leaving the kitchen while you entered. He gave you a nod, making his way to the gym to punch his feelings away. What if he had just tried harder...

Nat shrugged, not pushing the matter further but she never believed either of you when you both insisted there was nothing more between you. She knew damn well Bucky was using you to fuck his feelings away but it didn’t seem to bother you. You were more than satisfied with some super solder dick because it was good. Damn good. Still, she was a trained assassin and not stupid. Nat could see the way your eyes would linger on him for a second longer and the way you’d lighten up as soon as he stepped into the room. 

“So you and Barnes are just friends, huh?” 

“Obviously” You looked at her with wide eyes, hoping to ignore her question while you made yourself some tea but she continued to stare at your instead. “It’s nothing more than that. We hook up sometimes but it’s just casual”

“And you’re completely okay with things staying just the way they are?”  She cocked an eyebrow, her eyes narrowed accusatorily as if she could see right through you. “You’re fine with always just being a quick fuck?” 

“It’s what we both need, honestly, I’m fine with the way things are” You nodded,  thinking back to a conversation the both of you had both had after a mission. 

“If I ever settle down, it’d have to be with someone outside of all this”

“Outside of what?” 

“This” Bucky waved his hand around, pointing to the arsenal of weapons you were putting away after yet another grueling mission. “All this avenger shit, saving the world. I just want to go home to something peaceful. normal. Leave all this behind and just exist with someone I love. I’d never date someone from the team or someone associated with this, it’s too much” 

You felt a strange tightness in your chest at his words but you shrugged the feeling off, understanding where Bucky was coming from. 

“So who do you think you’ll end up with Barnes” 

Why were you asking him this as if you’d like the answer. 

“Maybe someone like Lauren” He mumbled, “Just someone who isn’t a part of this. Normal”

You felt the tightness creep back up but you shoved it back down. After all he’d been through, he deserved a little bit of normal. 

You took your tea and made your way to your room, sipping while you thought about Nat’s question. Were you okay with the way things were? He was a good friend to you and no doubt the only person who could have you screaming till your lungs were sore. 

Still. 

He was never yours.

He never saw you that way.

You were just a good fuck.

He always loved his ex.

It didn’t help that you’d recently noticed he’d been out more often. He didn’t say anything to you directly but you could tell he was trying to get back with his ex.  Cut his hair. Cleaned up. Quietly going out and not breathing a word about where he was off to. You weren’t 100% sure what he was doing but it was enough for you to decided you had to pull back. 

A few weeks later

Bucky frowned, hearing yet another excuse from you as you made your way to your room, softly closing your door and hearing the muffled noise of your TV switch on, not going to bed like you insisted. It had been weeks since he’d spoken to you properly. He couldn’t even remember the last time you had the benefits part of your “friendship” You were usually always slinking around him like a cat, your touch, your voice, your scent, some form of you always surrounding him. 

Recently?

Nothing. 

He didn’t like it.

Not one damn bit. 

 He hated that you didn’t wrap your arms around him randomly, whispering in his ear about how badly you needed him. Or the way you’d bite your lip looking over to him in the middle of the field, a silent promise of sucking his soul out as soon as the mission was over. Or how your back would arch off the bed, your thighs suffocating him, tugging the hair from his roots when he nursed from your clit as if your arousal quenched his thirst. Or the way he’d let his cum seep down your thighs, fucking it back into you with his fingers, getting you to lick them clean afterwards-

Bucky groaned to himself, shifting uncomfortably at the hard on he’d given himself thinking about you. It’s not even like he could go to you to get you to take care of it. The few time’s he’d tried to initiate something, you were tired. Had cramps. Not feeling well. Injured. Always something, leaving him high and dry, avoiding him all together. He decided to make his way down to the gym, punching his feelings away yet again, though this time they were over you. 

A few more days had done by and Bucky was worse than before. Sure he was talking to his ex again, but he was more concerned over the growing distance between you both. You’d both agreed the benefits would stay just the same unless either of you got into a committed relationship and while he had reconnected with Lauren, they weren’t official....

Why did you avoid him so much?

Was it because of Lauren?

Why did he even try to reconnect with her...

How come you didn’t let him get close to you anymore?

He started to wrack and pick at his brain wondering where it all went down hill. Did he say something to you? He didn’t forget your birthday, he’d gotten you everything you’d ever mentioned, even the littlest things you figured he hadn’t paid attention to. So what did he do to deserve this? He’s pent up like never before and it’s not just sexually. It dawns on him that he needs more than just sex, he also needs your friendship, your softness, your laugh. 

He missed you. 

All of you. 

Of course you were there for him when he needed you, patching him up after missions, keeping his favorite snacks always stocked up, listening to him vent about Sam. It wasn’t the same though. As soon as you did your job taking care of him, you were out of his hair and off to do something else that had nothing to do with him. 

*****

Bucky thought it was bad before but now he was seeing red. He was silently seething, seeing yet another handsome stranger drop you off, kissing you and giving your ass a playful squeeze before letting you make your way inside. The worst was when your stupid dates would actually make it inside the compound and all the way up to your room, Bucky had never been more thankful for sound proof walls. He watched you carefully, your smile dropping as soon as your date drove off, kicking your heels off and making your way to the kitchen to pour yourself a drink. 

Though Bucky despised seeing you after dates (unable to understand why he felt so strongly about them in the first place) there was one benefit to your rendezvous. One he wouldn’t openly admit to enjoying. A twisted part of him was happy when you didn’t enjoy yourself because while you would keep your distance from him on a regular basis, there were a few select times you’d relent and give into your needs. Like right now. 

“Bad date?” He cocked his head while you downed the dark liquid in one go, slinking over to his side, the warmth of your skin radiating off you. You nodded, letting your arms drape around his shoulders, standing between his legs. 

“Wanna help me forget?” 

It happened often and left Bucky more tormented than before. He hated that you only came to him when you needed to forget your shitty date but what could he say when you were supposed to be just friends with benefits anyway. You have a hold on him he can’t even explain. A hold no one else had ever had on him before. Not even his ex. 

His ex.

Bucky isn’t even sure why he had tried to reconnect with her. He realized there was nothing between the day he met her again after months. He remembered the relationship differently; rose coloured glasses making him forget that there wasn’t ever a strong connection between them. Now he was struggling to figure out why all of his thoughts were consumed with you. If that was the only way he’d get to have you then he’d take what he could get. 

*****

Bucky smiled to himself when he heard the a soft knock at his door, opening it to find your semi disheveled state, your hair a mess, wearing nothing but an oversized t-shirt. 

“Need something doll?” Bucky smirked while you rolled your eyes, pushing past him, walking right into his room. You were there for one thing and one thing only. He knew it and you knew it.

“You know what I need Barnes” You huffed, unsatisfied from your date who rubbed you like a scratch lottery ticket, asking if you had finished 30 seconds after. “He couldn’t find my clit” You shook your head, tossing your tshirt off, leaving you bare moving laying on his bed “Not that most guys can”

Bucky felt all of his blood rush down south, it didn’t matter how many times he’d seen you naked, how many times he’d had you spread out for him, he’d forever be taken with how perfect you looked wearing absolutely nothing. He palmed his boner as he made his way over to you, stripping all his clothes off before giving his cock a few tugs. 

“Pretty sure I can” Bucky murmured, crawling onto the bed and spreading your legs in front of his face. “And if I remember correctly...” He nipped your inner thigh making, smiling to himself at the soft gasp that slipped form your lips, pressing a sloppy wet kiss right onto your clit “It’s right there, isn’t it baby”

You let out a whimper, nodding while he hummed, a cocky smirk curling on his lips. He pressing his hard cock against the mattress for some relief, the feel of your soft silkiness making him leak. “I know exactly where my pretty doll’s clit is, don’t worry your pretty head baby” 

“He didn’t know how to touch you, huh” Bucky cocked an eyebrow when you silent shook your head, his thumb coming to rub soft circles around your clit, “You like it slow and gentle at first, hm? Barely touching you, teasing you a little before getting faster?” Bucky watched you carefully, your chest rising up and down faster as he started to apply more pressure, his blue eyes locked with yours. “Then you like it faster, just like this” He removed his thumb, twitching to his two fingers', coating them in your arousal before using his fingers tips to rub you making you moan louder, “That’s right, sing for me baby, sing for me while I play with your pretty little clit” 

“I remember you loved when I did this...” He gently sealed his lips around your sensitive nub, suckling with the lightest pressure, his hands holding your thighs apart, loving the way you moaned just for him. He pulled off so he could use his tongue, lapping and twirling around your clit, groaning at the sweetness that coated his tongue. 

“Need-need more” You moaned, getting louder as he pushed two fingers into you, curling them and speeding up his pace, grinding against the bed, his balls growing heavy. “Need your cock Bucky! Please fuck me” You grabbed at his shoulders, too desperate for just his fingers, needing to feel all of him. 

“Okay, okay baby, m’here” Bucky cooed, as he came up, kissing your neck, jealousy creeping through his veins smelling the remnants of your dates cologne still lingering on your skin. 

Another man. Who touched you. Felt your body. 

Unacceptable. 

“Need you” You moaned again, feeling his cock nudge against your soaked entrance, your thighs wrapping around his waist. Your eyes were practically pleading with him, rolling back when you felt him start to press into you, moaning into your neck. 

“You have me” Bucky groaned as he shoved his cock into you, not giving you a second to adjust, his arms wrapped tightly around you, and pounding you right into the mattress. You cried out from pleasure, the air nearly knocked out of your lungs from his cock hitting your sweet spot, his cock starting to drip inside you. You could feel him all over, his body weight heavy on top of yours, the scent of his body wash, the scent of him, the heat off his body, the way he tasted when he smashed his lips against yours. 

You’d hooked up plenty of times before but none of them were like this. 

Bucky’s face was tucked into the crook of your neck, sucking dark bruises, gently licking and kissing them right after. His arms were holding you tight against him, rolling his hips so that he’d still be pressed against every inch of your body the entire time. It felt like he was trying to fuck the deepest depths of your soul, unrelenting, the bed post steadily thudding against the bedroom wall.  

 Bucky felt it too. Something more. He didn’t know what, maybe you were frustrated, pent up from being unsatisfied but he’d never had you like this before. Your legs squeezed his sides, your nails scratching down his back, trying to pull him impossibly closer. You were begging him for more, nearly crying, tears clouding your vision as he braced himself up slightly on his knees, fucking you even deeper. He savored your sweetness on his tongue, the smell of your shampoo, how silky and soft your body was. His cock was throbbing, threatening to blow sooner than he’d like, your pussy sucking him back in every time he fucked you. 

Your hands went to card through his hair, your nails grazing through his scalp, drawing the sluttiest moan from Bucky, his eyes rolling back, fucking you even harder. You could feel your arousal squirt out of you at how desperate and delicious he sounded, squirming under him, feeling the wiry hair at the base of his cock rub against your clit. 

No one else had ever satisfied you the way he did, touching you in a way that made your body light on fire. He felt so good, fucked so good, tasted so good, made you feel things everywhere. Your heart was screaming, wanting to making the night last forever, but forever wasn’t something either of you agreed on. He wasn’t yours. If only. If only you could always have this. You needed this. Exactly this. You tried to bite your tongue, your voice needy and broken, unable to stop the words from tumbling out as your mind swirled. 

“Fuck Bucky I wish my future husband would fuck me this good, oh god-

You cried out as he growled, grabbing you and bringing your knees up, angling his hips till his thrusts made your belly bulge. He felt feral hearing your words, knowing you needed more of what he was giving you, what only he could give you. No one else would ever make you feel this good.

“Yeah? That what you want? Another man to fuck like me?” Bucky felt another surge of jealously course through his veins at the thought of another man having you the way he did. Another man touching you. Making love to you. Fucking you. Filling your tight cunt with their cum, breeding you till your belly was round and swollen. He snarled against your neck thinking about you carrying someone elses name. Someone else making you feel good, making you moan, putting their cock in you, it was supposed to be just him. Only him. 

Huh.

Why was he so possessive.

He tried to shake off the thought but the image seared into his brain. 

He couldn’t stand the image of you in your wedding dress, saying I do to a man that was someone else, your soft lips kissing theirs, sealing the both of you together forever, taking you away from him. 

Fuck that. 

Bucky fucked you like his life depended on it, the green monster of envy and jealous possessing his very soul, pouring all his feelings into the way he fucked you. He marked your neck, your shoulders, your breasts'. 

“Need-need this Bucky” You cried out, feeling pressure and tightness growing through your body, your orgasm desperate to spill over. He grunted, his balls growing heavy, his own climax at the tip of his cock. 

How could you think of letting someone else have you this way. 

To have you so vulnerable, hearing how beautiful you sounded when you were lost in pleasure. 

How could you think of wearing another mans right? Taking his last name?

How the fuck could you think of carrying another mans child, giving birth to his babies, having a family with someone that wasn’t him. 

How could you. 

Bucky’s mind felt muddled, he felt sick at the thought of you belonging to someone else, not when you had him. Not when he could give you what you wanted. He couldn’t push away the thought of how you’d look if you were carrying his babies. The way your tummy would be so round. How tired you’d look, a little super soldier baby growing inside you. 

The way you’d be pouty, your breasts leaking, your swollen belly perfect evidence that you belonged to him. No one would look at you twice, knowing who your baby daddy is. Who would dare look at the pretty thing the winter solider knocked up, thinking twice before they even looked your way. 

Fuck, you’d look so perfect, pregnant with his baby. He’d take such good care of you, massaging your sore feet, rubbing your belly, doting on you every second of the day. He’d spend hours worshipping your pussy with his mouth, knowing you wouldn’t even be able to see him over the swell of your tummy but your satisfied moans would be more than enough for him. He’d carry you everywhere, treat you like a queen, make love to you, drink your sweet milk when you felt heavy and sore, you be all of his-

“F-FUCK I’M CUMMING” Bucky bit hard onto your shoulder, moaning loudly as he started to cum, thoughts of your leaking nipples and firm belly making his whole body jolt, his cock sensitive, spurts of his seed endlessly pouring into you. “Y/n, look at me” He panted, still rutting his cock into you while your eyes rolled back into a silent scream, cumming around his throbbing length. 

“Look at me” He grasped your cheeks, making you look at him, sweat beading at his forehead, his skin flushed “I’m gonna get you pregnant” You gasped, moaning against his mouth as he continued to sloppily grind into you, his cock still some how hard. “You’re all mine, understand?”

You nodded, but it wasn’t enough, his grip on your cheeks tightened, desperate to hear your voice. 

“Say it” He pleaded with you, panting and grunting, overstimulated but too deep in wanting to fill you again to care. 

“I-I’m yours James!” You could feel pleasure creep up you again, working yourself up to a second high just off his words alone. 

“Keep saying it, keeping saying it, m’gonna cum again, don’t fuckin stop, keep telling me” He almost sounded like he was going to cry, his balls throbbing, still full and heavy.

“I’m yours, I’m yours, get-get me pregnant daddy” 

“FUCK YES”  That did it, his second orgasm spilling into you, his cock finally starting to soften. You panted, your mind reeling over the what had just happened, too fucked out to formulate words. He had taken you apart, cumming in you twice, his seed still deep inside you as he stayed inside you, slowly drifting off to sleep. As much as you wanted to ask him about what had just happened, you figured it was just the heat of the moment. You melted into his hold, letting sleep take over instead, what just happened wasn’t a big deal anyway....

*****

You blinked awake, heat engulfing you, Bucky’s arms wrapped around your body keeping you tightly and securely right against him. You squirmed, only to feel him hug you closer, whining, as if you’d disappear if he let go. You tried to gently wiggle free, not wanting to deal with the fact that you’d stayed the night, but your attempts to leave only woke him up. You blinked at his soft blue eyes gazing down at you, his strong arms still clinging onto you like no tomorrow. 

“Bu-

You were cut off by his lip smashing onto yours in a breathe stealing kiss, your eyes growing wide before melting and kissing him back. You both reluctantly broke away for oxygen, your face heating up as he tucked your hair behind your ear, still holding you close. 

“Stay”

“But-”

He rolled over, pinning you down onto the bed, his hard cock pressing against your thigh. “Stay, please” All Bucky could think about was your words from last night, the thought of anyone else other than him having you making him sick. He needed it again. Needed more. Wanting the same passion from the night before, his heart yearning and aching for it. “Y/, doll please” 

You shook your head, a sudden surge of anger fueling you when you remembered he wasn’t even yours and his heart was elsewhere. 

“James, let me go- 

“No” He stayed in place, bringing his hands to lace with yours, pinning you further, “Doll, I know I have no right but-but I need you”

“You had me last night, that’s all you need anyway” You scoffed, while he shook his head, regret clouding his eyes.

“No baby, it’s not enough. It was never enough. It’s always been you” 

“James, you were just trying to get back with your ex-

“It was a mistake. I learnt that the same day I met her. There wasn’t anything between us, truthfully there never was. I guess I remembered things differently from how they actually were. A stupid memory that never even existed. She never made me feel the same way you did. Not even close” 

You stayed silent, while Bucky continued to nervously ramble, his feelings coming out scrambled, fear making it difficult for him to focus. He couldn’t lose you. He adored you. Needed you. Couldn't stand the thought of someone else other than him being by your side. 

“It’s all you baby, always all you” He whispered, giving you his best puppy eyes, his heart hammering against his chest. You spread your legs slightly, letting his cock rest against your core, your nose bumping against his. 

“Show me you mean it” You whispered against his lips, gasping as he filled you, moving slowly so you could feel every bit of him. Him. The only person you truly every wanted. The person you imagined your future with. The person you wanted it all with. 

“M’gonna show you for the rest of my life doll” 

A few years later

You yawned, handing off your little one to Bucky, giving him a quick kiss before he was carried off to bed. Bucky rocked his son in his arms for a moment before setting him down in his bed, kissing him goodnight before switching the night light on. He made his way back to the bedroom, his heart swelling when his eyes settle on you, the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen. 

“How are my babies” Bucky smiled, laying in front of you and pulling your shirt up over your swollen belly, his two little angels fluttering inside. 

“Kicking and causing a ruckus, just like you a Steve” You huffed, giggling when he laid his head on your tummy, kissing the area where he felt the little ones moving. 

“Let mama sleep” He soothed, rubbing your skin,  smiling when he felt the babies settle down. “Be good for mommy, she’s sleepy, carrying you both around all day, keeping you warm and cozy” 

Bucky continued to coo and whisper to your belly, lulling you in and out of sleep, listening to his soothing voice. He had done the same thing when you first son Steve Grant Barnes Jr. was born, doting on you every second of the day. You had sworn you needed time to recuperate, exhausted from carrying his enhanced little one though both of you struggled to keep your hands to yourselves. 

“You just had to get me pregnant with twins, didn’t you” You playfully narrowed your eyes at him, gently stroking his hair while he continued to cuddle with your tummy. Bucky grinned, taking your hand and kissing your palm, the ring on your finger glinting softly under the glow of the table lamp. 

“Not my fault, you were the one who had your hands down my pants when we got back from that mission. I didn’t hear you complain when I made you cum three times in a row” He wiggled his eyebrows while your face heated up, biting your lip, remembering the way he had taken you apart in the jet, the safe house and then your home, the both of you insatiable as always, “Aren’t you lucky your husband fucks you like I did, Mrs. Barnes” 

Tags: @glxwingrxse  @hungryyeyess  @sebsgirl71479  @beabutterfly987  @teambarnes72  @witchywhore @jamesbuckybarneswify @slutforsexyseabass  @chrisdrysdale @littlemarvelmenfan  @buggy14  @whimsyplaty92  @sergntbarnes @inkedaztec   @pono-pura-vida   @moonlightreader649 @brooklynscherry-z  @elle14-blog1 @justsebstan @littlelightnings @psychomanniac-blog  @happyt0exist   @emmabarnes  @bethyruth @matchat3a  @cjand10   @getwellsoontana  @cherryschaos   @lokisasgardianvampirequeen  @ashenc-blog  @buckybarnessimpp   @potatothots  @goldylions  @high-functioning-lokipath @morganemorganite-blog  @kingfleury   @peaches1958   @spiderman-stilinski   @peaceinourtime82  @gublur   @wintersmelodie @geeky-politics-46   @lolawassad  @almosttoopizza   @a-poor-gryffindork @alternativeprincess   @buckycallsmeaslut    @kamaria-sweet-writes  @charmedbysarge    @xnorthstar3x  @kryoee7 @alina02  @gh0stgurl    @polishprincess999 @jessybarnes @alltheficsiwant @chemtrails-club  @eralen   @perdidosbucky-yyo  @clqrosmgc    

[corroded-hellfire]

Older Eddie freaking out when she tells him she’s pregnant. He gets worried he won’t be able to be there for them in ways he wants to and tries to run. But he sees the ultrasound picture and breaks down and goes back to his girl

Confused older!eddie, you still that dumb boy we all love

Words: 1k

I’m pregnant.

The words run through Eddie’s head again and again as he lies next to your sleeping form. The sound of your soft, slow breathing is the only noise in the trailer, but Eddie can hardly hear it over the beat of his pulse pounding in his ears. 

He’s glad you’re able to sleep because God knows he’s the farthest thing from sleepy. Pregnant. Eddie’s starting to think he can see the word scrawled across the shadowy ceiling he’s been staring at for the past three hours. 

You’ll be 52 when the kid is born, Munson, Eddie thinks to himself. Which means you’ll be 70 when he or she graduates high school. Well, at least 70 if the kid follows in my footsteps when it comes to education. Heaving a quiet sigh, Eddie tilts his head to the side to look at you. He watches the easy rise and fall of your shoulders with each gentle breath. 

There’s a sudden sense of panic climbing up Eddie’s chest and it feels like an iron hand clamps around his throat. You deserve so much more than this, he thinks. You deserve to have someone your own age, who can be there for you longer than I’ll be able to. 

Unable to bear the thought of you having to take care of your child and an aging Eddie, he pushes himself out of the bed and stalks out of the bedroom. 

2:02 am the neon green numbers on the microwave remind Eddie as he steps into the kitchen. He runs his hands through his salt and pepper curls and begins to pace back and forth in the small space. The two of you had never talked about having kids. Obviously, what was between you was serious and you were both in it for the long haul. Maybe one of you should’ve brought up the subject but it was too damn late now, Eddie mused. 

“Jesus,” Eddie says as he rests his hands on the back of a kitchen chair and hangs his head. “People are going to think I’m her dad and the baby’s fucking grandpa.”

The tightness in his chest returns tenfold as he imagines you calmly explaining to people their mistake, like you don’t mind it one bit. But Eddie knows it would bother you after a while and it would ignite embarrassment in him every single time. The same thoughts would spiral around his head that hadn’t been present since the two of you first started going out: she can do better; you’re too old for her; it’s selfish when you’re going to die at least twenty years before her. 

The shame is too much. Eddie’s nails dig into the wood of the chair as his jaw tightens. Before he can think better of it, he heads towards the front door, where his boots are settled next to. He shoves them on and doesn’t bother to tighten or tie the laces. The keys to his truck hang on the hook next to his leather jacket, but the sight of the jacket only reminds him that he isn’t wearing a shirt. 

“Fuck.” Eddie squeezes his eyes shut and pinches the bridge of his nose. If he walks back into the bedroom to grab a shirt, he knows he’ll see you, sleeping there like the beautiful angel you are, and fall into your arms. But leaving is what’s best for you…isn’t it? “Get it together, Munson.”

Taking a deep breath in an attempt to calm down as much as he can, Eddie remembers seeing a sweatshirt hanging on the chair next to the one he was leaning on in the kitchen. It’s an effort to walk across the floorboards of the trailer in such heavy boots without causing a piercing squeak, so Eddie practically tiptoes his way. Calloused fingers snag on the worn gray cotton of the sweatshirt and snatch it up. In his haste, the sleeve of material knocks a few pieces of mail onto the floor.

“Shit,” Eddie mutters. He bends down on creaky knees to pick up the envelopes that bear both your and his names. At the very bottom of the pile, there’s a thinner piece of paper that had gotten mixed in with the mail. 

A slightly trembling hand raises the grainy black-and-white picture to eye level. Even if the lightning weren’t so scarce, the moonlight shining through the window over the sink its only source, Eddie would need to squint to see the image clearly. The small fuzzy bean in the middle of the sonogram has Eddie falling back onto his ass, tears filling his eyes as he stares at the picture of his child. His baby. Your baby. 

Fat tears begin to roll down Eddie’s cheeks and he brings his free hand up to cover his mouth. How could he be so stupid? How could he even consider leaving? Leaving you? Leaving this innocent baby? No, he knows with complete certainty that would be the biggest mistake he’d ever make. So worried about the amount of time that he’d have with you that he was about to throw away the best thing that ever happened to him. And who’s to say someone younger would have more time with you? The next day isn’t promised for anyone, no matter the age.

Eddie puts the sonogram back on the table and is quick to scramble out of his boots, kicking them beneath the chairs to be dealt with in the morning. Both his leather jacket and sweatshirt get tossed on the couch in his haste out of the kitchen, into the hallway, and back down to your shared room. 

When he enters, you’re sleeping on your other side now, so he’s able to see your face. Letting his eyes roam over your beauty, more tears begin to fall. He roughly wipes off his cheeks with his rough palms before climbing into bed with you. Though you look so peaceful asleep and tucked in the blankets, Eddie can’t help but slide in as close to you as possible and wrap you up in his arms. A small, sleepy murmur tumbles from your lips as you snuggle up to your boyfriend.

“Everythin’ ‘kay, Eds?” you mumble as you lift your head and rest it on his bare chest.

Eddie nods as he holds you even tighter against his body. 

“Mhmm, sweetheart.” He presses a kiss to the top of your head, a smile breaking through at the way you cling to him. “Everything’s great.”

[help-itrappedmyself]

Summoning Game Show Part 4

Masterpost

Look. I don't know how to write a sword fight and if I tried this part wouldn't be coming out for a month. So here's this and if I ever do write the sword fight I'll shove it in as part 4.5 or something.

~~~~~

Turns out that Fright Knight bleeds green. Weird. It had taken a moment, both of the fighters taking the time to get to know their opponent before truly engaging in the fight. But after the fight had well and truly started, it hadn’t lasted long. Damian had quickly taken advantage of his speed and the fact that Fright Knight was clearly not used to being limited by gravity.

“So the puzzle currently stands with four letters showing.” Danny gestured as the screen reappeared.

“For winning against Fright Knight, what letter would you like to guess?” Danny asks Damian, who has returned his borrowed sword and is now standing back on the stage.

“I choose the letter O.” Damian’s quick with his answer.

“An amazing choice, Robin. There is an O!”Danny waves his hand and the screen changes.

“The next game is a race! You can pick how you want to race from: bike race, flying race... Can any of you fly?” Danny’s face scrunches slightly as they all answer no. “Apologies, your options are bike race or swim race!”

“Nobody is swimming in radioactive substances!” Nightwing interjects.

“Bike race it is!” Danny agrees cheerfully. “Who will our biker be?”

Tim and Jason turn to look at each other. “Look, if it’s between the two of us to do the brain puzzle at the end, I think we all want that to be you.” Jason states. “Let me take this one.”

Tim nods and Jason stands up. “I’ll do it.”

“Wonderful! You’ll be racing Johnny.” Danny says. “Skulker will be playing defense.”

They are approached by a blond man wearing driving gloves.

“Wait, defense on a race?” Jason asks.

“Yeah, his goal will be to try and let no one win!” Danny is getting very excited. “He makes his own weapons, so I asked him to make some traps and things for this, he was excited to be able to participate.”

Danny jumps off the podium, but floats gently down until he’s next to Johnny, but now his forn doesn’t have any feet, just a wispy tail. Then waves for Jason to join them. As Jason is walking over someone with flames for hair wearing a lot of metal floated past through a door that said 3. Danny noticed Jason’s eye tracking him.

“That was Skulker. He’s going to set up the racetrack. Now we need to go to the garage so you can pick out your bike!” Danny starts walking over to yet another door. “Johnny will be on his usual bike, but you can pick whichever you want out of these.” Danny opened the door and flung it open for Jason, who stood still in the doorway.

“These are all motorcycles.” Jason muttered. 

“Well, yeah.”

“Is that a problem?” Johnny asks.

“No.” Jason shakes his head. “I had thought bicycles when I heard bike race, but this works out great.”

Jason goes and looks around at all the bikes, they had a large selection.

“Johnny, remember to keep Shadow in line. I know he’ll want to ride with you because it’ll be fun and everything, but he is not to interfere with the race.”

Johnny nods. “You got it. I’ll make he sure he doesn’t do anything.”

“Good! When Jason is done grabbing his bike, get yours too and I’ll meet you outside room 3!”

Johnny starts walking over to help Jason pick out a bike and Danny heads back into the main room. He floats up to the stands to talk to a few people, then floats back down to the podium and lands on it with two feet again.

“We’ll be watching from here.” Danny tells the boys, who had huddled together sometime while he was gone. 

Skulker comes back out of room 3 and heads over to Danny. “Got everything set up.”

“Nothing lethal? You remember that one of them is mostly human, not ghost. He will actually be hurt if you go too far.”

“Mostly?” Tim mouths at Dick. Dick shrugs.

“Got it covered. Non-lethal weaponry, and set up some road hazards.”

Danny nods and Skulker heads back through door number 3, as Johnny and Jason leave the garage, both pushing bikes next to them. 

Danny heads over to lead them to the track and get them set up at the starting line.

The room is large, with what looks like three separate zones and the track looks like it’s made of glass, reflecting as green as almost everything else in the Infinite Realms. The  first zone looks like a mountain, with the track starting on ground level and going up in winding circular trails up and around the mountain before heading back down. Then there’s a quick jump in it, a ramp leading to a gap in the track, which separates the zones. Zone Two  looks like a series of mounds, or small hills like a dirt racing track, some grassy, some muddy, some sandy, all sure to make driving difficult. Another jump leads into Zone Three which looks like a cityscape. There are many different paths you can take through it but you have to go around buildings and what looks like fake traffic.

Johnny and Hood get the bikes set up at the starting line while Danny starts explaining.

“You have to go through all three zones, but the actual paths you take are pretty optional so long as you go through all of them in order. The first zone really only has one path, but the second one has some splits and the third is almost a maze, so you wont get penalized or anything for going down different streets or anything. Main points are you make it up and down the mountain, through the hills, and across the city. If you crash or skid, or Skulker gets you, you are free to keep going so long as you are uninjured.”

Danny then goes back to the podium and gets the screen up and ready to begin.

[verstappen-cult]

SPENDING CHRISTMAS WITH THE BOYS | F1 GRID

★ — LANDO NORRIS (4)

lando enjoys the holidays for many reasons, and one of the main ones is how happy you always are. you take everything involving christmas very serious and he tries to help you as much as he can, but it’s lando, he can’t help but go up to santa at the mall, asking for what he wants for christmas as if he’s five years old, embarrassing you so much you don’t think you will ever be showing your face again. lando is awful at wrapping presents, but you take your time teaching him between giggles and kisses that taste like hot cocoa. and after a very stressful but fun day of shopping and wrapping presents, you end your day cuddle up in front the fireplace with hot drinks and a christmas movie.

★ — CHARLES LECLERC (16)

charles knows you love christmas, so you don’t even need to ask for him to know that as soon as the season starts, you want to go and see the christmas lights around the neighborhood. so he drives you for hours, heart melting at your happy face and tears in your eyes. you decorate the tree together while christmas songs play in the background, that soon turns into a karaoke fight. charles’ favorite part of decorating the house is definitely when he has to lift you up so you can hang up the ones that you can’t reach by your own. of course you have stairs that could easily help you do it, he just doesn’t tell you.

★ — OSCAR PIASTRI (81)

oscar loves you so, so much because if that weren’t the case, he definitely wouldn’t be wearing the matching sweaters you gifted him a few christmas ago. much less while shopping where everyone can recognize him. but really, oscar doesn’t care if a picture of him wearing an ugly bright-green grinch sweater goes viral as long as you keep smiling at him every time you turn around to show him something. and it all pays off when you arrive home, after a day full of activities, and he feels your arms wrapping around him as you tell him how grateful you are between kisses.

★ — MAX VERSTAPPEN (33/1)

max goes all out to make every christmas special and makes sure to have the days leading up to christmas free so you can go shopping together. what max loves the most is how you slip your hand inside his coat’s pocket so you can still hold hands. and when he sees all the ingredients to make a gingerbread house, of course he has to buy it. so when he comes home with a big smile you don’t hesitate to clean the kitchen and sit down to put it together. and it chaos, neither of you had done it before and it ends up being anything but a gingerbread house, but you love it, you made it together so it has a special place on the countertop where everyone can see it.

★ — ALEX ALBON (23)

every year since you and alex have together he takes you to an ice rink. you both have learn a lot of tricks that, of course, end up with you bumping into people and falling. it’s your favorite night in december where you can just be kids together. the night ends up with you two walking down the christmas fair, sharing candy canes and hot cocoa while arguing about what movie to watch that night. and if you find yourselves under a mistletoe making out, well, nobody needs to know that.

★ — DANIEL RICCIARDO (3)

daniel loves christmas in australia because he can be with you for a full month and scape the cold, too. all his family gets together on christmas eve and every year you are a bundle of nerves. they love you, you know that and daniel makes sure you remember, he also makes you forget all about nerves dragging you to the kitchen where the little ones are setting out all the snacks for santa and his reindeers. you finish with only half the cookies and carrots because daniel can’t help himself. after that all the adults gather in the living room to drink and chat. it’s a little different tradition, but you love it.

★ — MICK SCHUMACHER (47)

mick loves to do a mini photoshoot on christmas day with your matching pajamas because you two look so pretty in them, and needs it for his collection. then, sitting by the fireplace to exchange gifts before going your separate ways to spend christmas with your families. he always has that big and bright smile on his face that you love so much when it’s your turn to open your presents. you say your goodbyes outside in the snow, kissing and getting wet but not caring at all. you promise to see each other the next day to snuggle up in the couch and see your favorite holiday movies together.

© VERSTAPPEN-CULT ⎯ do not repost, translate, plagiarise or claim any of my works as your own.

[helen-with-an-a]

Beautiful Girl Headcanons 2

I absolutely adore writing these and am very open to writing for other players to if people have any ideas, please let me know.

Alexia Putellas x Reader

Beautiful Girl Masterlist

Amor said I love you first but Alexia had it in her mind for longer (she was scared Amor didn’t feel the same)

When Alexia was out with her injuries, Amor wore boots with her APS11 on them

The first time Alexia walked unaided after her ACL was straight into Amor’s arms and they hugged for a good 10 minutes in the middle of the gym with everyone else had to complete their workouts around them

Alexia learned how to cook all of Amor’s favourite foods and family recipes to surprise her when they first started dating

Amor is the big spoon

They always cook meals together (it’s mainly Amor doing all the work and Alexia hugging her from behind)

Alexia can braid hair really well but only on other people - that’s why Amor always has really nice hair for matches

Amor’s worst injury at Barça was a broken ankle during a Real Madrid match - it’s another reason why Alexia hates RM and doesn’t really talk to Athenea del Castillo (she was the player that injured Amor)

Amor is a big pusher of brunette/natural Alexia, pink hair Alexia is a close second

Amor never wears the same hairstyle twice in a season - each match it’s different (ponytail, 2 braids, bubble hair, bun, etc) - she and Alexia sit down just before the season starts and work out all the hairstyles Amor will wear and when (it’s Alexia’s favourite day in the off season)

Alexia hates alarms and Amor knows this so she makes sure she wakes Alexia up first with kisses and head scratches about 10 minutes before her alarm actually goes off

Amor and Alexia are both Nike athletes and they do so many couple ads together (they come as a package deal and everyone knows it)

At national camps Amor only ever slicks her hair back because her personal hairdresser isn’t there and she can’t do it herself

Amor’s go-to punishment for Bratty!Ale is edging but she’s very careful not to overwhelm her and she keeps promising that Ale is her good girl, it was just her actions that were bad

Amor was thinking about getting her nips pierced but then she found out that you can’t touch them for 2-3 weeks and no mouths on them for 6 so it was a big no-no

Amor is a big believer in no trousers on at home (in private obvs) and Alexia is very appreciative of this view

Amor jokes that Alexia should get PROPERTY OF AMOR tattooed on her pubic bone (under her underwear line) - Alexia is partially considering it but the 66 tattoo is her version of a compromise

Amor once decided it would be a fun challenge to see how turned on Alexia can get when Amor speaks Spanish (Alexia came so hard Amor had to call them both out of training the next day because Alexia was so exhausted and needed the sleep)

Amor loves it when Alexia wears dark green (think emerald) or bright blue (think cornflower) lingerie; Alexia loves seeing Amor in black lace

If they ever go shopping without each other or is sent PR packages, there is a fashion show/haul of everything they got

Alexia once threw out all of Amor’s non-thong underwear and refused to let her get any more (until Amor complained they were uncomfortable to play football in)

Amor’s record time of getting Alexia to cum was 2 minutes 58 seconds - it was after the World Cup and they hadn’t had sex in well over 8 weeks and Amor spoke exclusively in Spanish during the celebrations (Amor is on a mission to break that record)

They’re both neat freaks and having a clean home makes them both feel so much better about everything

Once a month Alexia and Amor do their high-maintenance-to-be-low-maintenance routines at home and it’s all DIY stuff and it’s a very sacred thing for them

The first time Alexia truly entered subspace it scared the living daylights out of her - Amor recognised what it was immediately but it unnerved her to see Alexia so scared and unsure

Alexia has a love-hate relationship with Amor getting sick - she hates it because her mi amor is ill and she doesn’t want to see her in any discomfort/pain but she also knows that if she does a good job, Amor will absolutely shower her in praise/rewards when she’s feeling better

Despite Amor being in charge in the bedroom/when everything is too much for Alexia, she is very careful to help split the mental load of everything else so that Amor doesn’t get stressed etc

Whilst its using Alexia on the receiving side of things, she sometimes begs Amor to let her eat her out/fuck her because she wants Amor to feel the same way she does (service top kinda vibes)

[kindaasrikal]

Resurrected Morro head canons because I’m supremely bored+the ninja:

Morro cusses everyone out every two seconds. There is no ‘soft side’ this mf is a sword that never loses its edge.

Because of Wu and only Wu, Morro is a sarcastic little loser. He will not hold back on insulting someone either.

He’s actually surprisingly quiet most of the time, like even his footsteps are near silent. The ninja have gotten jump-scared by him more than they ever did when he was dead.

He cannot handle any sort of affection, care, or love given to him. Like he can very rarely do it himself with no sweat, he’s complimented Nya’s skill or Cole’s strength hundreds of times, but if anyone like Kai or Wu (two individuals known to train daily and know all that bull inside out) were to compliment him he’s suddenly a tomato. He’ll start looking away from you, acting all nonchalant but everyone can hear the way his voice goes higher each second another compliment is thrown at him.

Morro likes floating in the air, even if it’s just casually hovering or just sitting in the air he likes doing it. One time, Pixal dragged in a pile of vengestone to use for a project or something and this mf fell HARD on to the ground. As much as Pixal felt guilty, she would do it again since it helped her realise Morro was hiding some broken ribs.

Morro walks into doors, or walls, blinks, and walks away like nothing happened. (he’s trying to ignore Jay’s laughter)

After Morro and Wu reconciled and Lloyd and Morro began getting along he heard the two talking about how it would be cool if Morro could look more like Wu, just so people would stop calling Morro his ‘adopted’ son (thats his baby, nothing else) and so Lloyd doesn’t have to say Morro is just in his emo phase. As much as the convo was a joke, Morro took it seriously and the next day both Wu and Lloyd almost burst into either tears or shocked laughter when they saw the green streak was replaced by a blonde.

Morro actually isn’t emo, or goth, or punk. He’s all three at once and yet none at the same time. (Don’t be surprised when you see him wearing spiked bracelets and a pink shirt from Zane). To put it basically he has no fashion sense he just throws things together as long as it’s baggy and easy to deal with.

Edit: forgot to add, he’s old. This guy dresses like Wu and enjoys traditional clothing more than anything. He only wears anything different when going to the city and it’s still rlly baggy and basic. He somehow still rocks it.

Morro does not buy his own clothes, he just steals everyone else’s (Lloyd convinced him to do it with him.)

Even after Morro and Kai dealt with their issue they act like a toxic asian couple who are on the verge of divorce.

Cole likes to pick up the small members of the group, like Jay or Lloyd. Morro has become a victim and he bites.

He really likes reading. And history. After Lloyd introduced Misako to him they both got along so well they began sharing stories of Wu, Lloyd and Garmadon. All three are horrified at what those two know.

When Morro is floating in like a standing position, Nya likes falling out of the air or smth (she lowkey just appears) and falls on to his shoulder and stays there. Morro has learnt to accept his position as a chair.

Morro actually knows how to cook but doesn’t enjoy doing it, so Zane just kinda stares at him and pulls out something he knows Morro would want and suddenly you have two chefs with frilly pink aprons on. One is scowling as he beats the eggs and the other is smiling like he has no worries with sparkles and everything.

Morro has convinced the ninja one by one to join him in making a tornado out of each of their elements. Wu is not amused.

A lot of people headcanon Morro to not be able to do spinjitzu, so I say the reason behind that is because mini Morro was forbidden to do so by young Wu to use spinjitzu after he kept making tornados and the such and destroying part of the monastery. Morro unintentionally kept following it until one day he was asked by Lloyd why he never use it. Slowly but surely he came to the realisation it was Wu’s fault and pointed at him going like “IT WAS YOU!” And this old man was snorted into his tea. He forgot he forbade him.

When Morro gets resurrected he uses some sketchy magic book to summon Garmadon cause he was bored and wanted to someone to mess with (he missed his annoying uncle) (he called Lloyd in two second later and recorded him bursting into tears, both of them) (he froze and sweat dropped when he heard four armed Garmadon say something about his soul hurting last night.)

He’s like a hermit and a hobo combined.

As much as Morro can read, he can’t write, and as much as Lloyd can write, he can’t read. They join forces in deciphering scrolls.

Morro and Lloyd get along like burning trash. They happily cuss each other out and bully each other on a daily, they even call back to past traumas. Yet five seconds later Lloyd flops down onto a tired Morro and says “Hey do you wanna get ice cream with me? I found this place that i think would rlly suit your taste” and even after the both argue the whole time they take getting there the Lloyd actually was hoping Morro would like it because they had old man flavours. And even after Morro acts like he couldn’t care less and that Lloyd acts like a lil baby, he buys them both ice cream.

Okok im done i might do this for the other ninja i miss them ajgdjshs

[brights-place]

Trollex dating headcannons!

- OH GOD I'M SO IN LOVE WITH HIM AND HE DIDN'T EVEN GET MUCH SCREENTIME?!??! - HE'S JUST SO YFGBNV FVGHJUJHKKJ - SOMETHINGS WRONG WITH ME BUT HE IS SO CUTEEEEE - Dating this man isn't easy given that he's oh let me think... THE TECHNO TROLLS KING!??! - practices asking you out with techno beat drop who hypes him up - Trollex and Techno Beat Drop Button are best friends so it's obvious he's gonna talk to him about how he feels about you and how amazing you are when you start dating and when you weren't - You met at one of his raves you were dancing near the front with other techno trolls cheering - He loved your smile and how you danced around literally grinned wider when you two made eye contact - He told Synth to take over and wanted to get to know you... Literally swam towards you and welcomed you happily ( If your an different genre he would ask questions and if your an fellow techno troll he'd ask why he hasn't seen you around ) - He would try to find you the next day and successfully did with the help of his friends - Found you buying stuff at the market and purposefully bumped into you and talk to you more which worked out for him as he asked to hangout more which made you turn red since THE KING of TECHNO TROLLS was asking you to hangout - After like 3 Months this man would start to turn into an flustered mess for wanting to date you even after 3 months - Confess to you and asked to take you out on some dates you both where blushing but trollex was more confident since he practiced so hard on beat drop - First date was at another rave and the second date was him taking you to your favourite places he was so serious and planned everything out just for you which made you blush - Officially started dating on the second date which was quick.... - Kiss his freckles he'd giggle and look at you lovingly - loves you deeply with his large pixelated pink heart - Loves when you admire his body due to how cool it looks he likes how compliment his neon green hair, and his rainbow glowing bands of color on both arms - He doesn't have a single love language he uses gifts, physical touch, words and acts of service to express his love and care for you which is so much... - He makes sure your next to him in the DJ booth so he knows your beside him safe and also so you can be near him - After you've been together for a while he learnt how to identify whenever you need help so he just turn to look at you to know

- He would praise you whenever he can if he’s free

- When you talk about your interests he just nods and smiles lovingly at you <33

- kisses on his face makes him melt he just loves when you show him affection - He understands emotions so well so if you wanted to vent or rant to him he would listen and comfort you the best he can. - When he first started developing a crush on his future S/O aka YOU! he was able to tell pretty quick. - He realized as soon as the butterflies appeared in his stomach whenever they was around he just knew very fast and quickly!

- Would steal some of your stuff to wear out of boredom

- He loves holding your hand or even shows PDA Whenever he's stressed out, he likes knowing that you're there with him, and holding your hand is the perfect way for him to do that.

- he may be abit relaxed to his people but to you and in an private space he’s an ball of energy bouncing of the walls

- He usually shows himself as a calm and realxed dude for his partner but they know better. - he's the biggest softie around and will become comically flustered if this is brought up by them.

- would invite you to all his raves that he is being the DJ for… It’s all of them and you don’t miss an single one unless you aren’t into it he still likes to talk about it to you

- Night owl and early bird duo. Whenever he goes to bed late, you go to bed early and whenever you wake up late, he's up early.

- Tickle fights, chasing you around the beach when you steal his things, passionate kissing in the sand.

- Pepper kisses across your knuckles, the palm of your hand and wrist as he fawns over you, praising you without an second.

- He LOVES to show you off.

- He'll take you out and strut around with you on his arm like he won the lottery - Bliss and Laguna would gang up on him and tell you the stupid shit he did when they were younger up till now.

- will follow you around when you visit if he has the chance, he'll happily chatter away and keep you company

- takes great pride when you compliment or comment on the state of the castle or the decor for the raves - You wake up with him clinging to your ass in the morning

- If you call his name he will turns towards you with the biggest doe eyes and abandons all his duties to talk to you when you just wanted to ask where he put your jacket

- he was wearing it...

- When you go out on dates Trollex wouldn’t hesitate to kiss you on the cheek or lips and hold your hand.

- lights up when he sees you, who always has a new joke or dramatic story to share. - He could go on and on about how much he loves you to anyone who would listen.

[bzurk]

what gets dirtier the more it cleans?

series masterlist: cw: DUBCON, verging on NONCON, oral (m recieving), soliciting, coersion, slapping, bullying (fr it's mean) tuesday, week one:

You were given three rules when you accepted this job.

Don’t make any loud noises. Leave the lights on when you’re in a room. And most importantly, don’t get in their way.

It seemed straightforward enough. You were prepared to be as inconspicuous as a mouse if it meant securing your paycheck.

You could sympathise. A group of retired veterans reacclimating to civilian life. It couldn’t have, can’t be, easy, transitioning from the battlefield to the mundane. The constant vigilance, the hyper-awareness, must be ingrained in them.

The uniform you’re forced to wear by the organisation that found these potential clients is stiff and uncomfortable, but neat and agreeable. You drag your fingers across the embroidered logo adorning the breast pocket of your collared shirt, tucked neatly into tailored black slacks. The household had wanted to meet you before agreeing to let you into their home unsupervised as their maid, and you had to look perfect for it, had to make a good impression. Your rent was relying on it. You tie your hair back tidily, smoothing any flyaways. Your makeup was minimal and clean, professional. You looked put together.

The drive there is nerve-wracking, but you keep it together. You watch as your humble, working-class neighbourhood gives way to a parade of mansions, one after another, the gentrification painfully obvious. You feel out of place immediately in your modest car, almost as if you’re committing an offence by defiling this pristine street with your humble ride. You slide your car into park and stare at the house you’d researched prior, though seeing it in person puts its sheer scale into perspective. It’s enormous, with landscaping meticulously groomed and clearly maintained by professionals. You eye the clock, and the time is right, regretfully. You force courage into your chest and climb out of your car, the slam of the door sounding like funeral bells in your mind.

The sight of the expensive house gives you pause, the amount of square footage suddenly seeming like too much, an impossible task for one person.

The front of the house is a quintessentially British two-story home, exuding both luxury and comfort. The exterior is a blend of red brick and white stucco, with ivy climbing gracefully up one side, giving it a timeless charm. Tall, mullioned windows framed with dark wood sit symmetrically on either side of a grand, arched front door painted a deep, inviting green. The door is flanked by stone planters overflowing with vibrant flowers, a riot of colour against the muted tones of the house.

A cobblestone pathway, meticulously maintained, leads up to the entrance from the driveway, bordered by perfectly trimmed hedges and blooming roses. The front garden is a masterpiece of landscaping, with a lush, manicured lawn and a variety of shrubs and trees artfully arranged to provide both privacy and beauty.

After scanning the exterior of the house for a few minutes and picking your jaw up from the floor, you return to the very polite message from its inhabitants, even though you’ve already scanned it five times, to solidify the expectations that you’ve so readily agreed to.

Toilets, tile scrubbing, vacuuming, kitchen duty, laundry, organisation, dusting, pool cleaning, take out trash…

The list goes on and on. As your eyes scan the neatly arranged list, you begin to wonder why you’d accepted the job in the first place. While some of these tasks are certainly something you’d performed before for yourself, the high expectations make the hair on the back of your neck stand up. Then, you read it.

...A completely satisfactory compensation equal to or surpassing your listed asking price.

Four years of tuition and rising rent loom down at you from your aching savings account, and you’re reinvigorated. These people are obviously well-off and willing to pay you handsomely. You would just have to be careful not to undersell yourself; after all, you can always negotiate.

You have to muster even more strength to ring the doorbell. Your hands shake before you politely clasp them together in front of you, awaiting their arrival. When you hear the mechanisms of the door rattle, you force a smile onto your face that you’d only just then realized was missing.

The first thing to greet you when the door swings open is a blinding smile.

"Hi there! You must be the new maid. I'm Kyle Garrick," he says, extending a hand warmly. His grip is firm but friendly, rough with callouses, and your brain immediately thinks capable, dependable. He is intimidatingly tall and athletic, his posture speaking volumes about his background, shoulders and back straight. His dark hair is neatly trimmed, and there's a spark of genuine interest in his eyes. Worst of all, though, is that he’s gorgeous.

"That’s me!” You chirp out with a wide smile before giving your name. “It's nice to meet you, Mr. Garrick," you reply, trying to steady your nerves as you shake his hand.

"Please, call me Kyle. No need for formalities here," he insists, his smile widening further. "Come on in. I’m sure the place can seem a bit overwhelming at first, but it’s not so bad, promise!"

You step inside, the cool air of the house a sharp contrast to the warmth outside. The interior is just as grand as the exterior, with polished wooden floors, high ceilings, and tasteful decor that speaks of both comfort and sophistication.

"So, tell me a bit about yourself. How long have you been working in housekeeping?" Kyle asks as he leads you through a spacious foyer adorned with a large chandelier and a sweeping staircase.

"Well, I've been doing this for about three years now. Started part-time while I was studying," you explain, trying to keep your voice steady. "I enjoy the work, and it’s always interesting to see different homes and meet new people." Your brain was working overtime to send words to your mouth, and your cheeks hurt from holding the cordial smile. While it’s true you’ve been working at your job for a while, you did not enjoy seeing different homes and meeting people.

But hey, at least it isn’t retail.

Kyle nods thoughtfully. "I can imagine. We’re a bit of a unique household, as you probably know. Your boss told us great things about you, though. We’re happy to have you here."

"Thank you, that means a lot," you mumble, running your clammy palms across your pants. Beautiful, and nice? Your heart may as well give out now.

He gestures towards a doorway leading into a large, open living area. "Here’s the living room. We spend a lot of time here, so it can get a bit messy. Just a heads up," he adds with a chuckle.

You take in the room, noting the plush sofas, a grand fireplace, and a large bay window overlooking the garden. It’s clear that, while the house is grand, it’s also very much lived in and loved. Opposite the fireplace is a giant television flanked by bookshelves, brimming with titles you couldn’t make out. The stand beneath was home to multiple game consoles and controllers and a mess of cables. A plush rug covers the floor beneath the couch and coffee table, and blankets rest haphazardly over the arm of the couch.

"We'll head to the kitchen next," Kyle says, guiding you through the house. Despite the grandeur of the mansion, there’s a warmth to it, largely thanks to Kyle’s easy-going nature.

But you know you are completely out of your element because the kitchen alone is the size of your entire apartment. The idea of scrubbing this place clean fills you with more anxiety with each room that he shows you, but you keep it together enough to maintain a confident facade.

Mostly.

As Kyle led you down yet another dimly lit hallway, a behemoth of a man suddenly stepped out ahead of you.

And oh my God, he's huge. He fills the entire doorway from which he emerges, phone to his ear, glaring down at the source of the apparent bothersome noise that interrupted his call. With a wave, he acknowledges Kyle, hardly sparing you the dignity of a glance. Kyle quiets down immediately. The man's piercing, dark eyes say everything he doesn't need to, shadowed by the jut of his brow. For a moment, you're certain no one else on this Earth could be as intimidating. The sheer breadth of his shoulders and chest strikes a primal fear into you, making you question your faith and leaving your lips pursed shut in complete silence, your body snapping into utter stillness lest you be a bother. Prey frozen in front of a predator, hoping to remain unseen.

Satisfied, he returns to the room from which he emerged, shutting the door behind him as his deep, guttural voice rumbles an apology into the phone’s receiver. It's so deep, so guttural, you swear it reverberates in your chest.

After the pleasantries are over, there are just two rooms left to discover: the one that Dark-and-Scary emerged from and the door opposite.

“Don’t worry about Simon’s office,” Kyle dismisses. “He’d probably rather you not go in there.”

As if the guy couldn't get any scarier. You decide to avoid the room like it's radioactive, an easy decision to make. You eye the closed door as Kyle knocks on the other.

“Come in,” a deep, gruff voice grants permission from within.

Kyle opens the door, revealing a room that exudes authority and wisdom. The space is lined with dark wood panelling, and the air carries the faint scent of tobacco and aged leather. A large oak desk sits near the back, its surface meticulously organized with papers, a laptop, and a small lamp. Behind the desk, an imposing figure stands, looking up from a stack of documents.

"Captain- er, Price, this is the new housekeeper," Kyle introduces, his voice slightly more formal than before, his posture straighter.

Captain Price, a man with a rugged face and a neatly trimmed beard, offers a nod. His eyes, a steely blue, assess you with a mixture of curiosity and scrutiny. "Nice to meet you," he says, his voice gravelly yet warm.

You muster a smile, hoping it doesn’t come across as nervous as you feel. "You too, sir. Your house is lovely."

Price gestures to the chairs in front of his desk. "Have a seat. 'M sure Garrick has given you a lot to think about already."

You nod and sit down, the leather chair creaking slightly under your weight. Kyle takes a seat beside you, his presence reassuring.

"So," Price begins, leaning back in his chair. Seated and relaxed, he still seems to take up the entire room, authority lingering in the air like the scent of cigar smoke. He's intimidating, but not in the same way Simon was - a hulking behemoth. Not that Price isn’t a large man himself; his shirt stretches across a broad chest, pulled tight over sculpted biceps and shoulders. Even slouched in a plush leather desk chair, he towers over you. "What do you think so far?"

Price is intimidating because there is a magnetism about him. His beard is trimmed and neat, speckled with greys, and creases tug at his eyes whenever his expression changes. In his right hand, he spins a pen over his fingers, thick and scarred and rough. He’s a man of experience, of hardship, but it’s concealed by a calm and composed veneer. He demands respect without having to open his mouth.

You pause, carefully considering your response. "I think your house is beautiful," you say, hoping it sounds convincing. You fold your hands over your lap to hide the shaking. "A bit intimidating, but I’m up for the task."

Price nods, seemingly satisfied with your answer. "Fair enough. We value hard work and dedication here. As long as you do your job right, we'll get along just fine." He leans forward, his gaze intensifying. "But understand this: our privacy is paramount. What happens in this house stays in this house. We have our reasons for being particular about who we let in."

The ice from his eyes pierces through your veins, flooding your blood with cold. You nod quickly, "I understand, sir. I’m here to clean, nothing more, nothing less."

Price leans back again, his demeanour softening slightly. "Good. Then I think we’ll get along just fine. I hope you find everything to your liking. When would you be able to start? Our old schedule was Tuesdays and Thursdays,” he smiles again, placating, and you’re grateful that this is almost over.

“Most weekdays we’re on base,” Kyle adds. “But our schedules aren’t consistent.”

“Tuesday and Thursday are fine,” you confirm, knowing full well that today is Sunday. Your mind races with the laundry list of responsibilities that you would need to get together by Tuesday.

“Fantastic. Now about your compensation…” Price continues, drumming his fingers atop the desk.

Your ears perk up.

“How about $200 for the travel and $300 for the work?”

You’re glad that he’s the first to throw out some numbers, considering you didn’t know they’d be covering your travel times as well. Still, even with the bonus, it seems low. “$300 per day?”

Price’s eyes crease as he raises a brow. “Per hour, love.”

You startle at that. You must look like a deer in headlights considering Kyle’s sympathetic pat on your knee.

“Su-sure! Yes, that is um…” you stutter, knowing you look like an idiot but helpless to do anything about it. “Agreeable.”

He nods in affirmation. “Excellent. I look forward to seeing you on Tuesday. Just let yourself in through the garage, the code is 5768. There will be a list on the counter of your duties. I’ll be home around six, but it’s alright if you’re not done by then. Don’t burn yourself out on the first day.”

You memorize that number like your life depends on it. You exchange contact information with Price and Kyle. You want to ask if Simon will be home on Tuesday, but you resist, not wanting to ask too many questions with a promised salary over your head.

Finally, once you’ve exchanged your goodbyes pleasantly, you’re free to go. Outside, you take a deep breath, glad that the meeting went as well as it did. Cleaning this place must take at least a few hours, and at that rate, you’ll be paying off your loans in no time.

You focus on the suddenly attainable dream of financial freedom as you make your way home to prepare. 

—

Tuesday comes far too quickly for your liking.

Getting into the house feels more scandalous than it is. Your heart drops at the sight of a car still in the garage, though you suppose that doesn’t mean anything for certain. Rich people usually have multiple cars, right? You hope that you’re alone, away from the scrutiny of an overbearing homeowner, as nice as they may be.

You remember Simon with a shiver as you make your way inside the house, the memory making you close the door quietly behind you, recalling the home’s layout and making sure to check the kitchen counter for the list. You find it with ease, and the amount of tasks is shorter than you thought it’d be.

You collect the supplies you need and set out, starting with the living room. The TV is so massive that you could mistake it for a wall feature. You blink away the disbelief and start dusting, arranging the decor that adorns the surfaces and arranging throw pillows across the expanse that is the couch that wraps around the room.

You make quicker work of the room than you’d thought. You save the vacuuming for last when you’ll do it for the entire bottom floor as the note specifies. Stepping back, you take in the big picture of the room and you’re quite pleased with yourself. You suppose you weren’t lying when you told Kyle you were detail-oriented. You were good at what you did.

You turn back towards the kitchen to assess the note and hopefully cross off some tasks, and your entire soul leaves your body.

You startle back, a sharp gasp bursting from your chest, terrified. Jesus Christ, where did he come from? Was he always there? He’s just standing there, mug in hand, leaning against the counter, but his sheer presence was enough to spook you to your bones. You clutch your chest and almost laugh nervously, dissuaded by the stern look on his face, somehow making a black henley menacing. Shit, he’s ripped.

“Mr- Mr. Riley,” you regard him, taking a moment to remember his last name. Simply calling him by his first name is too informal, even if that is how Kyle introduced him to you. “My apologies. You scared me.”

“Hmph,” he dismisses, taking a sip of his tea before regarding you again. You take the brief time to force your heart to stop pounding in your chest. “Usually the maid comes around two or three.”

“I’m sorry,” your voice shakes as he regards you. How long was he standing there watching you? “I can come back at another time?”

“’s fine,” he nearly rolls his eyes before laying his sights back onto you. “Jus’ make sure you use the shit that smells like pine.”

“Yes! Yes sir,” you nod hurriedly. “Pine-scented-”

“Are you doin’ the beds today?” he asks before you’re finished speaking.

“Yes,” you blurt before swallowing. “After I wash the sheets.”

Simon swirls the tea around in his mug with a few controlled rolls of his wrist. “Use extra fabric softener, but not with Johnny’s. And make ‘em tightly.”

“Of course. Yes,” you are anxious to get this conversation over with. Simon makes your every muscle taut with anxiety. His stern words are all business, and you’re rather thankful for that in a way. There’s no second-guessing.

He glares at you through the furrow of his brow before turning towards the foyer. He speaks to you again without turning back around to face you, “Did you close the garage door?”

Shit.

“N-no, sir,” you answer honestly. You don’t consider lying to him for a minute.

He doesn’t move. Your heart speeds back up regrettably.

“Always close the garage door,” he insists darkly before approaching the entry door to do so himself.

“Yes, sir. I’m sorry. It won’t happen again,” you convince, wishing you got a better look at exactly how he did so. He closes the entry door before you have a chance to see, and you definitely don’t have the balls to ask.

“Don’t make too much noise, either,” Simon demands, raising his voice to ensure you’ve heard him despite the increased distance between you. 

“Of course,” you chatter, drilled into place as if he’d filled your shoes with lead.

You hear a door shut, and suddenly you can breathe again. Still, the minuscule noise of the air through your nose is too loud, you decide. You try breathing quieter despite the dizziness plaguing your head, only to give up a few moments later. You wait for him to come back and yell at you again for a few minutes before mustering the bravery to continue to the kitchen to retrieve the list.

Suddenly, it’s a mile long.

Since Simon mentioned the beds, you figure you should start there. You hurry up the stairs, tiptoeing to avoid making them creak, and quickly strip the beds of the surprisingly sparse amount of bedding (like seriously, only one pillow? Psychopaths) before carrying the bundle downstairs and into the laundry room. Getting the cycle started is a bit like rocket science given the high-tech nature of the machine, but you figure it out, extra fabric softener in place as ordered. You allow yourself to take a breath as you recall the master bedroom, as extravagant as you’d expected it to be. Daydreaming about a king-sized bed and a fireplace in the bedroom distracts you from Simon enough to accomplish a few more tasks, crossing them off the list as you go.

The last thing to do as you wait for the bedding to dry is clean the bathrooms. Kyle so kindly writes that you “don’t have to go crazy with it”, but you will anyway. You collect your supplies, rubber gloves donned, and head towards the first bedroom adjacent to the foyer.

“Oi.”

His voice sends needles down your spine. You’d almost forgotten he was there, naught but a peep to be heard from beyond his office door. Now, he stands in the doorway of it with his arms crossed to address you. He’s so tall that he has to bend his neck to look at you, lashes long and dark as they cast shadows across his features. His scarred, mangled features that rocket fear up your spine.

“Yes?” it comes out as a wheeze, your lungs robbed of breath.

“I spilled something in ‘ere, can you get it? Have a call in ten minutes, make it quick,” he explains, the most you’ve heard him speak. Even though he phrases the request as a question, it’s anything but; you are to report to duty immediately. You mentally salute him.

“Of course,” you prattle before shuffling your supplies in your arms. He makes way for you, sticking close by intentionally, his arm raised above your head to hold open the door, a lion’s paw about to come down on a mouse. He’s never been scarier than he is in that moment, brushing past him to get into his office, the difference in size between your bodies starkly and embarrassingly apparent.

You arrive at a sparsely decorated office with a deep mahogany desk at the very centre. Your eyes scan the floor but find nothing out of place, unsure if you should enter the office further to investigate or just wait for Simon to point the mess out to you. 

He steps past you to return to his desk, sitting in a tall chair before swinging his legs up onto his desk. He narrowly avoids the computer there, and you notice that his boots pretty much dwarf it, before a smash.

His thick-heeled boot knocked right into an empty glass perched precariously on the corner of his desk. It comes crashing down onto the expensive carpet beneath, shattering into countless sharp shards in a messy circle. You watch this happen with your own eyes, but you’re not sure it really happened. It’s not until Simon removes his feet from the desk to cross them normally that you understand what’s happening.

“Whoops,” he mutters sarcastically with a dismissive wave of his hand before tucking his arms into a cross. He never once breaks his stare at you while doing this, especially now. He waits for you to make eye contact before blinking. It’s long and slow, like he’s showing it off. Like he’s telling you just how relaxed he is while you’re a complete mess.

“I-” You’re stunned, insulted, and frankly frustrated.

“There’s a mess. So clean it,” he states plainly.

“Of course,” you swallow your pride and every curse word that bubbles up into your throat. You sink onto your knees, and the movement almost sickens you. You remember a time when you wouldn’t give an ounce of your pride to rich assholes like this, back when circumstances were different.

The loans, just think of the loans…

You use a small brush and dustpan to sweep up the glass shards, the sharp fragments catching on the fibres of the carpet like stubborn burrs. Simon's legs stay in your peripheral vision, an unyielding presence that looms over you as you work on your knees. You try to ignore the weight of his gaze, focusing instead on the painstaking task of collecting each sliver.

"I- I think I need the vacuum," you murmur, your voice barely more than a whisper. You pour the shards into a small container, a brittle symphony of tinkling glass, and rise to your feet, clutching the dustpan like a lifeline, as if it could protect you.

“Vacuum is too loud,” Simon scoffs. “Figure it out.”

You hold back a grimace, your eyes lifting to meet his, searching for any sign of leniency. But his expression is carved from stone, cold and unyielding. Defeated, you drop your gaze and return to the task, plucking out the smaller bits of glass with your now bare fingers, each prick a tiny sting of defiance against your skin.

Halfway through your meticulous work, Simon's desk phone rings. The sound slices through the tense silence, and he forgets about your presence, lifting the receiver to his ear.

"Now's fine. The maid's here, but no matter." His voice is stripped of its usual menace, a disconcerting change that sends a shiver down your spine. "No, s’not Faith. New one. Knocked over a glass.”

You scowl, your fingers pausing as his words sink in. The other line responds, and Simon smirks, a cruel twist of his scarred lips.

You clench your jaw, the glass shard embedding itself deeper into your finger. You hiss between your teeth. The words you want to hurl at him burn like antifreeze, bitter and corrosive in your throat. The money on the table feels like a shackle, binding you to this humiliating role. Any protest would likely cost you this job, and you can't afford that.

Simon shifts to business talk, and you tune out, the fumes of your rage and indignation fuelling your efforts. The fear you once felt towards him dissipates, replaced by a simmering resentment. He’s not as terrifying as he first seemed; just another arrogant, condescending douchebag. Still, you don’t dare rise until every speck of glass has been meticulously collected.

You stand, eager to escape the oppressive atmosphere. Gathering your supplies, you head for the door, your steps hurried.

"Hey," Simon's voice halts you, and you turn to find him pointing at the floor by his side. Your heart sinks as you assume you missed some glass, and you crouch at the side of his desk chair. Before you can react, he moves with startling swiftness, swivelling his chair and knocking you off balance with his boot. You wobble, falling forward onto your knees and scraping them against the carpet, your hands landing on his thighs, and your brain short-circuits, hitting factory reset in your fear. You scramble to push off of him, to crawl backwards and create some space, but Simon grips your hair with a vicious tug, forcing you to remain between his legs.

The pressure on your scalp is excruciating, tears pricking at the corners of your eyes. You can smell the faint scent of his cologne, mingling with the bitterness of your fear and anger. It clogs your throat, shame and embarrassment and disgust all boiling in your gut. The shock feels like the shards of glass you collected pouring over your head, tickling and slicing against skin.

He holds you there for a moment, his grip tightening just enough to make you whimper, cheek pressed against his thigh until you can feel the warmth of his skin through his jeans, abrasive against the sensitive skin of your face. You can feel the way his thigh flexes when he leans back in his chair, all muscle and brute strength. His grip moves from your hair to the nape of your neck to hold you still when you struggle again.

You bite your tongue, literally, to keep yourself from losing the only job that you’ve been able to get.

Loans, loans, loans… Bills, bills, bills…

For a moment, he’s just staring at you, smirking, and you realize he’s finally placed the phone back on his desk, yet his grip remains ironclad around your neck. The rage builds, and your hands ball up into fists, and you take a breath to will yourself into silence.

You’re shaking now, a quick glance towards the door securing your escape plan. Simon notices, but he doesn’t move. Your eyes flick to the dustpan of glass next, too far for you to reach, and you know deep down that you would never be quick enough to slice Simon. He’s ex-military, for fuck’s sake. You know he’s followed your gaze when his thigh flexes again under your cheek, his boot coming to rest between your knees, ready to knock you back down if you so much as flinch.

“Mr Riley…” You cower, your voice muffled against his jeans, weak and snuffy. He merely tilts his head at you. “I need to get back to w-work.”

You flinch away violently, and he forces your head further into his leg as he opens one of the desk’s drawers. He could be reaching for a knife, or a gun, and you’d be completely useless to stop him, scruffed like an unruly cat and sat at his feet like a pet. You choke back a sob, hands gripping around his calves.

He wields a stack of cash, rolled together with a rubber band. You can’t help but stare at it, bright, crisp bills nestled in the palm of his giant paw. He tosses it up and catches it above your head, as if it were merely a baseball, and smirks at your wide-eyed reaction. Your eyes follow it like a baby to a mobile.

“So predictable,” he murmurs, snapping the rubber band off to stack a few of the bills atop his other thigh, right in front of your nose. A puff of breath from you would be enough to scatter it to the floor. 

You force your eyes from it and compose yourself. A few hundred dollars is hardly worth selling your dignity for. You’re not entirely sure what he’s getting at, anyway. 

“What- what are you talking about?” you finally decide to ask, much less confidently than you’d hoped you would.

“You’re pretty useful around here. You should show me just how useful you can be,” he croons, leaning down and curling over your head, your proximity to him keeping his voice perfectly audible despite the quiet, deep nature of it. You meet his shadowed glare with furrowed brows and watery eyes, lips taut, as you finally realize what it is that he’s asking of you when he rubs your face against his jeans again.

With his free hand, he grabs the few bills he placed on his knee and slides them under the waistband of your slacks. You can’t stop the squeak that eeks past your lips.

“What? No!” you resist, trying to throw your head back and out of his grasp when he lets go suddenly, and the back of your skull knocks into the desk painfully, ornaments jostling from the impact. You’re glad nothing falls, not wanting to deal with that at the moment. Not with your dignity apparently for sale. “You’re- No, no- Price would have my head!”

“And he isn’t here, is he?” Simon interrupts before you can make an even bigger fool of yourself. He leans in further, caging you between his knees and the desk until the distance between you is negligible. He grabs your chin this time, his pointer and thumb panning from ear to ear across your jaw, and slips anther bill down the front of your shirt until his abrasive fingers tuck it into your bra, his touch searing against the sensitive skin.

“You can put up with a lot, love,” Simon coos deeply. He slides another bill into your bra, tucked under the strap, as you start to feel dizzy, unsure if this is really happening. There’s at least $500 tucked into your clothing at this point.

You stare into his chest, the calculated rise and fall of it doing little to slow your own. God, he’s just so huge, and you’re cornered, your escape plan evaporating with his presence. You’re not sure you could squeeze past him even if you tried. An immovable object.

When he slides another bill against your skin, you open your mouth to speak, but nothing comes out. This is so reprehensible that you struggle to find the appropriate words to describe just how disgusting all of it feels. The money burns, sears, branding your shame into your skin permanently. A tattoo in the shape of your weakness, your gullibility. Your gut twists and aches, your hunched shoulders so tense with the pull of your muscles that you might make yourself faint.

Another bill, another moment of terse silence. Tears finally spill over your lashline.

Shit… how much is that, now?

This has to be some sort of test, right? Simon has made it perfectly clear that he enjoys messing with you. This has to be one of his games. One that you so happen to have fallen hook-line-and-sinker into.

Another bill. Your bra struggles to hold them. You’re pretty sure he brushes them over your nipples on purpose.

Well, if he’s going to play a game, maybe going along with it is exactly how you get out of it.

“What are you asking me to do?” you utter, squeezing your arms against your breasts to keep any of the cash from spilling out. You can hear the way it crinkles.

“I’m not asking,” Simon murmurs, his voice a rumbling bass given the closeness to his chest. You can feel the vibrations of it deep in your ribs. “You’ll do it eventually. We all have a price.”

Your eyes flutter closed at that, with his breath ghosting over your face. You feel – you are - completely stuck. You force your eyes open, but still can’t muster the balls to meet his gaze. He taps your nose with another bill, the rhythmic tap-tap-tap driving you crazy until you swipe his hand away. Are you really someone who has a price? 

Yes.

“Suck me off,” he demands plainly, and the words completely steal the breath from your chest. You don’t breathe, you can’t breathe, the absolute ridiculousness of it all weighing heavily on your conscience. He starts the tapping again, though it’s slower, now. You blink away the tears, completely preparing yourself for the verbal onslaught that you want to inflict upon this fucking creep for insisting you do such a thing.

The taps slow into an excruciating rub across your cheeks before Simon simply lets the bill flutter to the floor, discarded like trash before trying again with another one.

Well… It is a lot of money…

You swallow, almost rolling your eyes as you close them again. If this is a game, it’s a really fucking sick one. He tosses that bill to the ground too and repeats the movement, this time sliding the bill across your cheek, over your nose, tracing it down to your lips before letting it flutter to the ground.

“Just- just a blowjob?” you utter, voice as weak as your moral convictions.

That makes him chuckle, the noise of it sinister, more akin to a deep growl than a laugh. He knows he’s won, this little game that he indulged in. He leans back, proud, to assess his work: you, flustered and flushed and way too hot, avoiding eye contact with him at all costs as you crunch the bills in your hand. “Just a blowjob.”

He leans back in his chair smugly, arms resting against the armrests and his fingers drumming against them. You’re not sure if you can get out of this by citing your inexperience, or if that would just intrigue him further, so you keep your mouth shut. No, he had ensnared you long ago, and you were just along for the ride. Simon was taking his position as your superior with delight. Or, well, whatever it is that Simon can experience that might be considered delight by any standards besides sadistic.

You stuff the cash from the floor in your pocket, along with your pride, and finally look him in the eye. He simply waits for you, as if you knew the first thing about these sorts of situations. He must enjoy watching you fumble with yourself internally, piercing brown eyes like daggers into the gears mashing around in your head, jamming them in place.

“Well?” Simon lilts.

You obey his unspoken command, swallowing thick spit and frowning deeply. You crawl closer on your knees, the plush carpet suddenly suffocating. Simon has that stupid expression again, spreading his legs wider to encourage you between them. You’ve seen things like this in bad pornos, but you don’t have the first clue how to handle any of this.

“’m not paying you to stare,” Simon derides. You know that you should be doing something, anything, but with the flood of thoughts and doubts and impulses flying past you, you simply can’t piece together what he wants from you right now. He’s jammed the gears in your head, his derision a knife between cogs.

You watch his hands fumble in the fly of his jeans. Your eyes widen with the sudden spring of flesh that makes itself very apparent, his cock bouncing towards his belly. The idea that he’d gotten hard from messing around with you is repugnant and vile, and you wonder just how depraved he is. You’d seen a few cocks before, mostly in college during some bad decisions, but his is just so foreign. Developed in a way that only age could afford; huge and heavy, hindered by its own weight. He presents it so unceremoniously, so matter-of-factly, that it catches you more off guard than you thought it would.

He pats his knee twice, as if he were summoning a dog. From your place at his feet, you felt like one.

You rise on your knees, placing your hands over his thighs for balance. You can’t help but keep your eyes locked on his cock, towering, framed by a plush covering of dark hair.

He grabs the base of it and jiggles the flesh, inviting you impatiently. “Open up.”

Your jaw trembles as you oblige, just barely parting your lips enough to expose your tongue. Simon waits for you to inch closer on your knees, really nestled between his legs now, and there’s no going back. You don’t like when he tells you what to do, but at the same time, you’re completely lost without his guidance. You give it your best shot, licking a stripe just beneath the head of his cock. You wince, the taste off-putting and the smell of him unusual.

He surprises you, grasping the back of your neck with his free hand. You startle and whimper, reflexively clutching his knees to keep your balance. He isn’t particularly rough, but the sudden nature of it scares you.

You are impossibly in over your head.

He keeps your head in place as he angles the tip of his cock between your lips with his free hand. He sighs when you instinctively close your mouth around it, tongue wiggling beneath the pulsing flesh as you try to swallow. A tear creeps its way from the corner of your eye, sliding down your cheek with shame.

“Suck.”

You close your eyes as you give that your best shot, cheeks hollowing around the intrusion in your mouth. Your tongue is more useful, here, given the increased friction. You lather it around languidly, unsure if that would even feel good, but Simon doesn’t tell you to stop. You just want to get this over with as quickly as possible. You open your jaw ever-so-slowly with each tentative suck to accommodate the girth, spongy veins pressing along the heat of your tongue.

He squeezes the back of your neck again, and you know what you need to do. You start to bob your head to the fullest extent of your limits. Just when you think that Simon is fully hard, he gets even harder, the size of it quickly becoming difficult to handle. You start to choke when the tip prods the back of your throat, but when you try to back off, Simon’s firm hand across the back of your neck keeps you in place. You break the suction to force a breath, gaping your lips to puff out a breath around the intrusion in your mouth. Simon didn’t seem to like that, pushing you farther down towards his groin.

You wince and more tears come, either from the activation of your gag reflex or the sheer mortifying pain of doing something like this with someone like him. You feel like a filthy enabler, giving him what he wanted so easily.

Simon pulls your head back, his cock slipping from between your lips with a wet noise. You cough, though your little pity session is interrupted by him slapping the meat of his cock against your cheek. Now that it’s out of your mouth you can really size it up, brows furrowing at the intimidating bulk of it as he drags it across your face. You��re not ashamed to admit that you’re intimidated by it, as arousing as a cock of this size would be in any other circumstance. You scowl at the wet heat of your own spit slathered across your face and the degrading nature of it.

“You better figure this out before six o’clock,” he gripes, and you squeeze his calves with fear. You know exactly who would be getting home around then.

You open back up after he jerks himself haphazardly against your cheek a few times, glaring up at him for a split second. He lets you do it, relaxing his hold on your neck as you take up a quick rhythm. Being reminded of the impending consequences speeds up your motivations, bobbing messily around his cock until you manage to earn a heated groan from his chest. His hand trails to the back of your head, more of a cradle than a hold, fingers embedded in your mussed hair.

You grasp his thighs instead, using his body to adjust for the recoil of your rhythm. He gradually presses on the back of your head, a gentle insistence that you take more than just half the length. You force your throat to relax as best you can as you try to accommodate him, tongue draped across your lower teeth. You’re deathly afraid of scraping him, especially with the increased depth. He gets thicker towards the base, too, tempting the limits of your mouth and your ability to keep your lips clamped around the length of it.

He grunts when he meets a resistance that you truly wish you didn’t have. If this is what he wanted, so be it. But you can’t, your eyes clenching shut at the intrusion, trying to compensate with more half-hearted dips of your head. Simon’s fingers curl into your hair, suddenly holding you still, stinging your scalp with his grip. Your attempts to placate him apparently aren’t enough.

“Take it,” Simon growls, his upper body curled over you for leverage. You manage to take a short breath before he plummets back inside, fighting the sideways turn of your head as you try to resist it. He ploughs into your throat like a battering ram, fucking it deeply, uncomfortably. You feel your sinuses sting, bile creeping into them as you try to flail away. “Fucking take. It.”

You try your hardest. It’s much easier said than done.

Simon keeps you firmly planted between his legs, both hands now clasped around the back of your head, his weight pinning you down, a calf slung around your back. Your neck aches with the angle, your chest burning with the lack of air. What does he get out of this? Is it simply to make you suffer? You wouldn’t put it past him.

Your tongue lingers across the base of his balls where sticky spit begins to accumulate, strands of mess connecting your chin to his balls. You claw into his thighs, tapping, anything to get him to stop. You swear you hear him snicker, the noise dampened by the blood rushing past your ears. Your eyes open just to roll back, searching for any sense of empathy no matter how shrivelled it may be.

Finally, he releases you, just a moment before you either throw up or pass out. You throw yourself back, falling onto your ass, coughing and crying. You swipe the mess from your face and force deep breaths into your aching chest, too distracted by your misery to notice Simon standing to approach you.

“Stupid cunt,” he spits, taking your hair back into his grasp. He forces you to look up at him, and you’re not sure why you expected to be treated any differently than this. 

You burst into a startled scream when he tugs, wrapping your now loose hair into his fist. Before you can even cry, he’s quick to shut you back up. 

He cranes your neck back uncomfortably to stuff his balls along your chin, dragging the length of his cock across the bridge of your nose. He’s more forceful with it now, rutting his balls against the exposed meat of your tongue as it peeks from between your lips. His hips roll, back and forth, mushing your face around with his cock. The salty taste downturns your mouth, a bitter mixture of skin and sweat.

Now that he’s standing, he has greater leverage over you. You feel even more powerless than before, impossibly, held in place by the sheer power of Simon’s grip. Your mascara was running before, but now it’s coated your under-eyes in a haphazard, dripping mess. Remnants of other bits of your makeup dredge Simon’s cock, his hips finally reared back.

“Open your fucking mouth,” he growls, more of a whisper than any command he’d given you before. He barely waits for you to obey before thrusting his length back into your mouth. He hisses through his teeth when your own scrape against it, the affront enough to invigorate him into a hurried and brutal pulse of his hips. 

You give up on breathing. If you’re going to pass out, you’re going to pass out, and there’s nothing you can do about it. Your nose burns from the scrape of his pubic hair across it, and your little whines are suffocated by the bulk of his cock pounding into your throat. He’s much quicker now that he’s standing, having given up hope of letting you take any semblance of an active role. Your throat makes embarrassing, wet, choking noises as he pummels in and out of it, nothing more than a hole for him to take advantage of.

He slides out just to slap your cheek, spit flying from the impact. He doesn’t hit hard, but he’s accurate, the reddened shadow of his hand starting to blush across your cheek. He’s quick to get back to work with a grunt, craning your neck back again to stuff his cock back inside. You gag, but he doesn’t care, pushing past the resistance once more to enjoy the tightness of it. 

You give up knocking against his muscular thighs, simply grabbing hold of the hem of his shirt as he fucks your face relentlessly. You’re dizzy, snot streaming from your nose, spit flying from your chin and onto the floor. Simon, who once seemed all too concerned about cleanliness, seems to relish in making an absolute mess of you. You try rising from your knees in a last act of defiance, but his hold on your head keeps you in line, stuffing your nose into his groin as if to mock your attempt at escape.

“Fuck,” he groans, little pumps of his hips taking full advantage of your throat now that he’s buried inside it. Your eyes roll back, the crinkle of money sharp in your bra. You focus on the feeling of it as Simon grates the abused interior of your throat, your chest quivering instinctively as it struggles for a breath. “Look at me.”

You force yourself to look up through the sticky mess of your mascara, tears blurring your vision. Still, past the trail of hair leading from his groin to his belly, you can see the beginnings of his face. His jaw is tensed, lips parted with exertion, beads of sweat dotting his forehead as he glares down at you with what you can only interpret as rage. He’s angry, pulling your hair just that much tighter when you dare to blink or try to look away.

Finally, finally, he relents. Even though he pulls out of your mouth, he keeps you firmly planted exactly where he wants you. You clench your eyes shut to avoid watching Simon jerk the length of his cock against your face, his hot breaths sticky as he looks down at you. Heat spurts onto your cheek and you grimace, having little time to enjoy your precious breaths before snapping your mouth shut. His heavy balls bounce against your face with the rhythm of his jerking, scraping your cheek with the hair across them. Your body still forces some coughs through your suppression of them, erupting from your throat with disjointed, garbled noises, and your lips part just barely. Threads of cum breach the space between your lips, the bitter taste seeping into your mouth against your will.

Simon, in a new low, adjusts his hold on your head to spread his fingers across your face. He rides out his orgasm with your face at his disposal, globs of cum marking your forehead, cheeks, chin, and everywhere in between.

He sighs, a long, droning noise that is as much a relief for you as it is for him. You sob quietly to yourself, hands raising to wipe the mess from your face as best you can. His body, warm and stocky, glistens with a sheen of sweat. He throws his head back as he releases yours, caring not about where you end up now that he’d discarded you. He wipes the tip of his cock across your lips in a final bid to clean it. 

You can’t believe that you’ve just done that. You curl into yourself on the floor, still trying your best to keep your uniform unsullied. When you’re able to open your eyes again, you realize how silly that aspiration is; ropes and speckles of cum, spit, and sweat stain the delicate fabric. You may as well stay on the floor… it’s where you belong.

You’re not sure how much time passes before Simon speaks again. His words are muffled by something.

“Towel,” he utters, suitably calm now. 

“What?” your brain simply doesn’t comprehend the word.

“A towel,” he says more sternly this time. “You know where they are.”

You’re not sure you can even stand. Nevertheless, after staring at him in disbelief for a few moments, you force yourself onto your feet. You watch him flick a lighter and ignite a cigarette, the smell out of place given your once-pristine surroundings. You’re shaky, suppressing a few coughs and cries, looking away from the fresh plume of smoke to head towards the bath down the hall. You drag your feet, seeking support from the doorway to keep your balance. You grab the closest non-decorative towel that you find, sending a stack of them cascading to the floor. You don’t care, barely regarding the heap as you make your way back to the bedroom.

The smell of smoke stings your abused sinuses and throat. You hold the towel out to Simon, who so graciously opens one eye for you before smiling, cigarette dangling between his lips.

“Your job is to clean, so clean.”

He mirrors a previous conversation, and it sickens you, your hands shaking with a mixture of exhaustion, rage, and fear as you grasp the towel. Apparently, your mouth didn’t clean him well enough. Well, this is hardly the worst thing he’s asked you to do, at least…

That fact obliterates any shred of self-respect that you have left.

You bend down to attend to his needs, spit and cum cooling quickly in the dustings of his hair. He hisses, slapping away your hand with a sudden disapproval.

“Gently,” he scowls. The hypocrisy of the request settles heavily in your gut, but you have no option but to oblige. You simply have no idea how to handle a cock with your hands, what pressure is appropriate. His cum slicks your face, but of course, you need to be concerned with the integrity of his balls before that of your own face.

It takes some doing, but you get there. He’s as clean and dry as you can get him, only to be rewarded by a thick puff of smoke in your face. He smirks at your indignant frown and the way you turn away for fresh air, the cigarette glowing red as he takes another long inhale.

“‘S fine,” he murmurs, smoke billowing from his nostrils. “Clean yourself up and get the fuck out of here.”

You use the same towel despite the disgustingness of it, desperate to get the sludge cleared from your face. You’re half as successful as you’d like, a nice hot shower sounding better than the fistful of hundreds bundled in your pocket. You collect the few bills scattered on the floor without a word, shameless, lightheaded from the exertion of it. You sigh with relief, dropping the towel where you stand and sauntering towards the door without a word. 

“Oi,” he cajoles as you grasp the door handle. You turn back just enough to regard him, eyes rimmed red and face painted black with mascara. “Did you do the dishes?”

You merely nod twice, and it’s enough for him, apparently. He dismisses you with a huff and a wave before letting his upper body lean back against his chair. “See you next week.”

Next week. Not Thursday.

A sinking feeling settles in your gut as you realize this won't be the last time. Come next Tuesday, if Simon is here, he'll have another bonus for you. You’ll just have to make sure you’re well out of his way.

You finally leave a little past four o'clock. The day has slipped away, a surreal blur of time. The sharp scent of Simon’s cologne and the taste of bile burns your sinuses, as painfully persistent as your wounded pride.

The shower you take once you get home is hot, but not hot enough. There isn’t water hot enough in existence to burn the shame from the deeply embedded streaks across your face, scouring you from the inside out.

You worry that perhaps Simon swindled you and snuck some singles in the stack of bills that he gave you, but he didn’t. The “bonus” just barely covers your credit card bill. But hey, at least it doesn’t overdraw.

Silver linings.

[nightsmarish]

hiiiii this maybe weird but could i request a wolfstar x reader and she has like a lovey stuffed animal from when she was a baby she still needs to sleep with that she was trying to hide from the boys and how they’d react to finding out?? I love your writing :)

Poly!wolfstar x reader (Remus Lupin x Sirius Black x Reader) | 700+ words

A/n: a little short than I planned, but that's okay. Thank you for requesting, boo!

Tw: sleepy Remus, anxiety, first time the boys sleep at ur flat, kinda modern-ish, werewolf thing in implied a secrete r doesn't know? Kinda like a mid fic at best

★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡°⋆𖦹✮₊★⋆｡

Most couples sleep over at eachother houses. It's completely normal. But, despite that fact, the nerves are eating you alive.

It was agreed before hand that the boys would crash at your place after your date. It is extremely late since the drive-in double feature ended at 2 a.m., and your apartment is much closer than Remus and Sirius' flat. Which means you've had ample time to hype yourself up, to tell yourself they won't judge you for sleeping with that bloody stuffed animal.

But now? Sitting in the passenger seat of Sirius' car with Remus half passed out with the nearly illegal amount of blankets and pillows the three of you brought? Your very not prepared for them to see the small stuffie.

Everyone stayed rather quiet throughout the car ride. Remus was already tired before the movies, probably because the moon was a few days ago, but you have no real conformation that affects him; all just speculation you've made the past few months of dating the boys. And Sirius is coming down from a sugar high, which leaves him calmer and more tired than usual. As well, with the added fact that he doesn't want to disturb your shared boyfriend as he goes in and out of sleep.

And the quietness stayed when the car parked infront of your apartment complex. Grabbing the blankets and pillows and helping a groggy Remus to his feet, the three of you manage to make it safely into your flat.

And while the boys just happen to conveniently be a bit distracted on assessing what blankets and pillows will be used to properly sleep in your bed, you sneak away to the bedroom.

There, laid out in the middle of your bed lays the little creature you've had for probably too long. You scurky on over to it and grab it, trying to quickly find a place that is both safe and well hidden for the night.

But, alas, one does not simply walk away from Sirius Black and expect him not to follow.

"Whats that, love?" Your shorter boyfriend stands in the door way, fluffy, dark green blanket in his arm. Behind him, in the living room, Remus is fighting, a little lazily, with two blankets that got tangled together.

"Wha-?" You glance down at the plushie in your hand, "This? Nothing. Nothing, why?"

Sirius quirks a brow, and dear Salazar, he can be intimidating; it's like his gaze is boring into your soul.

"Pads, leave 'em alone." Remus joins him in the door way, successfully having one of the two blankets.

"I'm not doing nothin' just wanna see who will be joining us tonight." He walks further into the room, throwing the green blankets onto the bed. Turning to face you again, gently grabbing your hip with one hand and cuping ome of your hands that holds the plushie, "assuming he will be joining us?"

You pause for a moment before practically melting into Sirius, who chuckles as he hugs your waist properly, "yeah- he's gonna join us. If that's okay." Your voice is muffled into the black t-shirt he's wearing.

"'Course, that's okay, dovey." One of the two is behind you now, having dropped the extra blanket on the bed as well. You can feel him press a light kiss to the top of your head from behind.

You move your head from where it laid on Sirius, looking at the two extra blankets that taint your bed. "I have enought blankets, we didn't need more."

The smile never leaves the boys face, letting go of you and landing unceremoniously onto your bed, looking up to you and Remus, "nonsense, darlin, how else will be over heat in the middle of the night?"

"We won't overheat in the middle of the night." The tall one gets in the bed as well, much less dramatically and soooo ready for bed.

"You are so confident in that." Sirius twists his body to see Remus getting comfy in the extremely messy bed, then glancing at you. "'Cm'on, doll, bring your friend and come join us."

A small smile graces your lips as you join the boys, one halfway to a dead sleep and the other welcoming you into his waiting arms after you turn off the bedside lamp.

[myusuchaa]

Elbert Greetia x afab reader - Tempted by Forbidden Fruit

ღ w.c.: 2.7K

ღ paring: elbert x afab reader/ Y/N

ღ cw: MDNI, NSFW, explicit sexual content, based on slight spoilers from Elbert's both endings special epilogue, use of Y/N, biting, oral, foodplay, fingering, dom, obsession, teasing

ღ a/n: well well, my first elbie nsfw fic is here!!! it is based off his both endings special epilogue, but mostly only the setting and a couple lines, so it doesn't have too many spoilers. i've been in love with this scene for months and wanted to finish what was started in the story.. hehe. elbie is the type to be in charge and yet still a needy, pouty lil bby and i love that about him. hopefully you do too, enjoy!!

MDNI ༶•┈┈୨♡୧┈┈•༶MDNI

You stood in the kitchen with one half-made and one fully baked apple pie laid out on the counter before you and Elbert.

Red, delicious apple slices, sprinkled with cinnamon and sugar, were strewn about. Excess dough sat in a small bowl to the side near a tall jar of flour, now half empty and decorated with your and his fingerprints. 

It was a warm spring afternoon, and you and Elbert stayed in his manor on his day off, spending the time idly together. After learning of a new apple pie recipe, you both decided to try your hand at baking it, rather than leaving it all to the cooks and maids as they usually would do. In fact, Elbert had told all of the staff at the manor to take a leisurely day off in town, leaving you two isolated in the loving cage that was his mansion on the cliffs by the sea.

You plunge your spoon into the warm and steamy pie for a taste test. “....Mmmm, this might be the best apple pie I’ve ever tasted!”

Elbert pouts slightly, “I want a bite..”

The spoon with a new piece of pie is brought to his sculpted, perfect lips. He gazes down at you with the same intensity as always while taking the pie into his mouth.

“Mm.. indeed. It’s delicious. Very well done,” he replies softly. A  gorgeous smile graces his lips, showing off how relaxed and content Elbert is in this moment. 

Ah… he is beautiful.

“Isn’t it?! I’m pleased you like it, Elbert,” you reply a bit bashfully. “I’m so happy with how this turned out. We should bake and save the second one so the houseworkers may try.”

Elbert gives a small nod in a reassuring manner, as he usually does. He has always been attentive and caring toward the Crown staff, some of whom now work at his manor. That gentle, doting side of his continues to fully enrapture your heart as the days spent with him grow.

As he reaches for another bite, not with any silverware but with his own hands, you can’t help but pause to think about how you two must look in this moment. 

Elbert is in a single linen button-up shirt, thinner and more casual than his usual attire that goes under his vest and ascot. His sleeves are rolled up just to his elbows, another fashion choice he rarely gets the privilege to make due to his constant appointments as a nobleman. His slender yet toned forearms, painted with veins that ran down through to his fingers like pale blue rivers, really stood out against his soft visage. Admittedly, seeing his arms like that must feel like what men think when they see a woman’s bare ankle and calf. It truly makes for a wonderful view.

You wear a light, rose pink and baby green floral dress he recently picked out for you. There was no petticoat or skirt layer - only a thin laced string tied in a droopy bow on your back prevented the top half from loosening and falling off of you. Both of you had flour, sugar, salt, cinnamon, and apple bits stuck on various places of your clothes and body.

“You know, this is quite a sight. Eating scraps of pie with our fingers, all messy, while standing in the kitchen,” a giggle escapes you as you glance at him while eating the next bite. He chews slowly and tilts his head quizzically. “I mean… you being a nobleman and doing this… feels a bit naughty.”

In saying this, he smirks and looks off into the distance, as if he’s remembering something.

“I have been schooled in the ways of etiquette, but.. After Al came to live in the mansion, I would occasionally... get into mischief with him, when the adults weren’t looking. Sometimes, Al’s pranks ended up getting me in trouble, but….” he trailed off and paused for a while before blinking a couple times and turning back to you. “More often than not, they saved me from dark thoughts.”

A fleeting surge of envy made its way to your facial expression, and you cast him a sidelong stare while picking at the pie.

“Ahh.. that sounds so nice. I somehow wish I knew you then…” you were aware of the faint flush growing on your cheeks and the coy look you threw at him. Smiling, you say, “I would have loved to do things like that with little Lord Elbert.”

I don’t know why but I’m envious of Alfons…

You heard him chuckle under his breath before he asked, “Are you.. jealous, by chance?” His sapphire eyes looked at you with a gleam that told you he already knew the answer and was just seeing how he could toy with you.

“....yes.”

Now that it was made obvious - that the thought of doing something thrilling and ‘against the rules’ with him was extremely enticing, that you wanted to be the one to give him happiness - you really couldn’t help but blush.

Elbert laughed again in a husky tone before drawing nearer to you. He swooped in to kiss you mid bite, his arms suddenly on either side of you, pressing you up against the counter while his tongue reached between your lips to steal some of the apple that was beginning to melt in your mouth.

He pulled back and his ocean blue eyes darkened to a stormy glaze. “Sweet,” he whispers. You watch his adam’s apple bob up and down as he swallows what he stole from you.

“Elbert!”

“What is it?”

He asked this teasingly, but somehow innocently at the same time. His duality drove you insane.

Before you could answer, his hands grabbed your waist and effortlessly lifted you up. 

“Wh-Wha..!!”

He placed you on the ridge of the counter, quickly swiped off the kitchen supplies that were in the way behind you with zealous power, and then pushed you back and down onto the messy, wooden surface. He loomed over you with a beautiful grin. 

“Oohhh.. Right here?!” you gasp, a thrill rising within you.

“...Make some mischief with me in the kitchen.” His voice dropped into his lower, sultry register that made anything he said impossible to resist. “Don’t you want that?” The words danced off his pretty lips with a smile.

“Mm.. s-sounds fun..,” you stammered.

His lips were enticing as stared at them. “I want to experience it with you as well.”

With a smile he closed the gap once more and kissed you passionately, his tongue glossing over your teeth. He began to trail his kisses down to your jaw, your neck, collarbones, and chest. As he did this he lowered one forearm onto the counter, using that hand to stroke your hair and face. His other hand was placed first on the table and then on your knee, forcing your legs to come up and wrap around his waist. Something warm and hard pressed against you.

He exhaled hungrily into your ear after nibbling your earlobe, “You taste so sweet…I feel like I have a decadent dessert laid out before my eyes.”

“Nnghh…Elbert, I..,” you plead, savoring how good it feels when he switches from gentle to forceful, when that beastly look, as if he is about to devour you, starts to contort his expression with a dark greed.

Continuing to lick and suckle the flour and juice from your skin, his hand slips under the small of your back to deftly undo the bow on your dress. His fingers crawl up to the neckline and he pulls it down, like you are his present on his birthday that he can’t wait to unwrap. He bites the fabric and drags it over your breasts with his teeth.

“Wait!! You–y.. Mmnn!!” The feeling of his tongue and hot breath on your now enlarged nipples is downright maddening. You realize your empty pleas to stop him are useless.

His long eyelashes flutter as he rests his chin on your stomach and looks up at you. “You want to make me happy… yes?”

Caught in your throat is something between a cry of agreement and a satisfied moan. You nod your head vigorously, “Yes… I want that..nngh”

He sucks harder on your nipple, sending a wave of pleasuring sensation down your stomach. Still in between your legs, he lifts your dress as his hand expertly finds its way to your throbbing, moist spot. One, two, three intentional circles stimulated you, as he groaned, “Then who am I to refuse such a sweet temptation?”

“Mnnn-,” you instinctively lock your ankles together around him and pull him in. Both of you, eager to lap up the sugar and saliva dripping from each other’s mouths. His fingers slip under your panties and push into your dripping heat.

“Mnn, let me hear the voice that’s only for me, Y/N,” he rasps, reaching in and out with his long, agile fingers, as if curling them in to beckon you closer. A bite sinks into your shoulder, sending a shock of ecstasy to the pit of your core, aching for more. 

“El… ah..I-I’ll be too loud..” Before you could finish he kissed you once more with a growl rising from his throat. He knew exactly what you wanted. You come undone on the counter as he swallows your moans, all you could do was grip the edge to hold on for dear life as he hastily pulled off your underwear and knelt down to drink your nectar. “Ahh, sh-!”

He stops you by pushing the fingers that were just inside you into your mouth, caressing your tongue with his thumb, you sucking in pure pleasure as he feasted on you below. You grab his golden locks and move him round as he inhales your glistening cream like it’s his last meal. You feel yourself on the precipice of climax. His tongue traced your vulva and clit softly but with intense longing, and as he did so you heard him loosen his belt and unzip his pants.

Just as the greedy queen longed to be beautiful, you craved his entire, beautifully exquisite being, sinfully delectable. A nobleman on his knees for you…whining in desperation. 

Elbert then stood up, a sheen of manic desire in his jewel-toned eyes. “Y/N, I’m a greedy man…”, he says, breathless. “When I say I want you..”

You reached out to wrap your arms around his neck and pull him toward you, meanwhile he held his pulsating length just a centimeter from your swollen entrance. He taunts you by lightly rubbing his tip, moist with precum, in circles on you. Just the feeling of it makes your eyes roll back. 

“Nnghh… feels s’good… and I know.. El,” you can barely speak at this point. In your mind you are begging him to thrust his manhood into you.

“..It means I want to see all of you. Show me what sends you - nngh -  over the edge..,” he slid into you while saying this and readjusts your position until you fit securely in his arms, wrapped around your waist. Your back arched in response as he slow-thrusted forward. A satisfied sigh left him as your moist cunt was welcomed his length in full.

“Let me in deeper…” he was already panting, pleading, eyebrows upturned, yearning for your touch. “...into your very core… this too..mm..” he rubs your clit with his hand as he rhythmically pumps his erect member in and out, hitting that sensitive bead every single time. “..this is mine.”

“Mnn..nnggh- Elb-..!” Your moans fill the empty hallways, the heat radiating from you two becoming palpable as fog against the window above the counter. For some time after he enters you, there are no words spoken. Only the melody of your voices, sounds, his moans - a sensual duet filled the silence. He continued to stroke your sweet spot with his gifted cock, an intensity so strong you felt yourself drift into absolute bliss. His languid yet desirous rolling of the hips has your nectar dripping down the sides of your thighs. Looking up at him in a daze you see his gorgeous, ocean blue eyes gleam under his bangs that fall in front, tinged with madness. More love bites are left on your collarbone and breasts, him only pulling away after a hot mark, the color of a plump red apple, is left on your skin.

“Hah..” he heaves in and out with more force now, tensing his erect member and pushing it as far as it can go until you squeal, his bulging head hitting your cervix as you dig your nails into his back. “You’re mine…Y/N.” The sight of you gasping, writhing, and with the hickies he left on your delicate chest drove him wild. That deep, slimy desire - that dark voice within him: Claim her. Own her.

He suddenly pinned both of your wrists together, crossed over your head, with one of his large hands. His grip was shockingly strong, it made for the perfect shackle of flesh. Chained to the counter by his right hand, he groped your exposed and supple breasts repeatedly with his other hand as he quickened his pace in and out of you. His lips turned up in a crazed smile. Almost laughing in hysteria and illicit pleasure, he gritted, “Mmn.. Hah, you’re beautiful..” He lifted your right leg over his shoulder to get even deeper inside you, both of you crying out as you near orgasm. Still with one hand crucifying your arms to the table, his other hand wrapped around your thigh with wanton obsession. His pearly white canines sank into your thigh as he licked playfully and pushed his erection deeper still. 

Damn it, how can he be so.. so!! “!!! Ahh.. Nngh, I-I’m.. I’m gonna-!!” you yelp as you try to shake off his hand that held yours down, attempting to claw at the air, extreme rapture making you shake and twist, intensifying the feeling of him hitting your g-spot. 

“Wait,” he hissed, “I’m not satisfied yet-” he slammed your wrists back down above your head and locked your leg in place over his, bending into you, breathing in your scent and gorging on the sweat beads that formed on your neck. No doubt, his carnal urges drove him to the brink of abandon. Before you was a man filled with lustful greed. His eyes a darker shade of blue, his silky hair now strewn and sticking to his chiseled chin and neck. You kiss his lips as if deprived of oxygen. A faint hint of cinnamon fills your palate. 

Mere seconds later you both reach the climax at nearly identical times. “Ah!! El, I’m-”

With one forceful thrust, he erupted inside of you. A warmth unlike anything comparable spreads within. You cum as whimpers leave his lips and exaggerated breaths make his chest heave deeply upon you, his rock solid length throbbing inside. Pulling his hair and squeezing your thighs tightly around his waist, an ice cold and yet burning wave of ecstasy, like an ocean wave on a summer night, rolls over you both. Your panting mirrors his, and he lays on top of you, motionless, save for the rise and fall of your silhouettes from the sunset glow peaking through the window above you.

Slowly, he pulls out, still somewhat hard, and within seconds a gushing flow trickles out and down onto your behind. He stood in front of you, erect enough for his glistening cock to still stand, a drop of your viscous honey dripping from his tip.

A gentle touch of his finger catches his cum that drips out of you before it falls on the floor. He delicately traced your rosy, swollen cunt. Leaning down to kiss you on the forehead, he asks timidly, “Are you alright?” 

He pulls you up into his arms, holding you like the most precious treasure in the world.

“Mm, y-yes.. but Elbert…that was…,” a naughty, playful smile bloomed on his stunning face when you called his name. 

“Yes, Countess? Will you scold me now?” He teased, as he dusted some flour on the tip of your nose with his index finger.

Gleeful laughter from both of you danced on the breeze, followed by the scent of freshly baked apple pie.

fin

[ethereallyjade]

Pick a Card: Traits of Your F/S

Choose a photo that calls to you and the cards will tell you a message. As always, this is just for fun. Do not take anything seriously or above legal or medical advice. If your interested in personal tarot readings and want to support me, check out my Paid Readings! Masterlist

1 - 2

3 - 4

Images are not mine

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Pile 1

Your F/S might wear big clothes. I'm seeing dresses, baggy clothes, or just oversized things. I'm getting somewhat emo vibes or they might just like black clothing. They are great at keeping optimism and picking themselves back up after periods of grief. Your F/S might have a hard time connecting with others or has had a bit of a rough past in terms of relationships. They could be a bit of a rebel as well or just crave more freedom in their lives. Back to their looks, their clothes might stand out in some way. Something about them or their personality is bold, but they don't even mean to be. They might have a very simple look, but it's so different from those around them that it comes off as bold, because I'm picking up on a very quiet and even reserved energy from them so I don't think their looks are a very conscious choice on their part. Either way, I'm still seeing that they're confident in themselves and have a leader like potential.

Pile 2

Clumsy, and colorful. Might wear sweaters or hoodies a lot. Could have an affinity towards churches? Or maybe really likes historic buildings or museums. Likes to travel. Likes the ocean. They are independent and trust their own decisions. They might move homes a lot and don't like living in one area for too long. They might live or be from somewhere with a cold climate. They have a humble upbringing. Could have come from a broken home, divorced parents, low income, or even faced homelessness at some point, but I'm seeing that they're ready to move on from that or have already. All in all, they're a very talented person and they're ready to take their opportunities. They might be from a different country than you.

Pile 3

Clean, smooth, "Must be perfect." Maybe their a Virgo lmao. I'm seeing that they can be the type of person to put up a front. They appear as well put together, mature, clean, and may even be seen as a leader of sorts, but on the inside they're definitely struggling with something. They might be a really naive person, and find themselves often being taken advantage of by those around them. This could also be taken as they're a very emotional person and need to learn how to put up this courageous front so that they stop being taken advantage of. As far as physical appearance goes, I'm seeing someone who's blond, medium length hair. Might like wearing blues and greens, dresses or long shirts. They might like to accessorize themselves. They may also be the type to really dress up when they leave the house, but dress very casual or im hearing 'bummy' behind closed doors lol.

Pile 4

They like hanging out with friends or even partying and drinking. They love to travel. I'm seeing a very happy and positive person hear. Maybe they can be randomly contemplative or have big dreams which is something their friends find odd about them because they usually have a kind of careless and partying type of personality. On the flip side, I can also see this as being someone that does not like to party. Maybe they're surrounding friends have a careless, parting attitude towards life and they want to break free of that and work towards something they find important. They might not be very close with their friends or feel like they've never fit in with their friend group, and again, dream of going somewhere else or leaving to find their people. They might contemplate moving overseas, so they might either be a foreigner to you or maybe you both move to a new country together. For physical traits, they might have curly hair. I'm seeing a lot of the color red. That might be their favorite color, or a color they wear a lot. Maybe their hair is red. I'm also seeing that they might get dressed up often.

[jakexneytiri]

can u do a dad! neteyam x reader fluff where he and the kids plan a gift for reader for mother’s day? thank you! <3

awwww in light of Mother’s Day, yes :)

⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰ ⊱✿⊰

“can i open my eyes yet?” you ask, smiling to yourself as you hear whispers and rustling about your marui.

“no, momma! we’re not ready yet!” txonuk yells, running over to place his tiny hands over her eyes. “i’ll cover her eyes!” he says to his siblings. “no peeking, momma.” he whispers to you, causing you to laugh.

“i won’t peek, txonuk. i promise.” you smile as you feel his small hands covering your eyes.

neteyam chuckles at this, helping the children carry their gifts over to set in front of you.

“did you bring mine over?” txonuk whispers loudly.

“yes, txonuk. it’s right here.” neteyam chuckles again, handing txonuk his present for you. he holds it with one hand, still using his other to cover your eyes. your mate takes a seat beside you, resting his hand on your thigh.

“okay, momma, open!” tsantu says, gently tapping txonuk’s arm, signaling him to let go. txonuk removes his hand, holding his present as he stands in between tsantu and se’ayl.

nima holds her present up to neteyam. “now, daddy?”

neteyam smiles, shaking his head. “not just yet, syulang. we have to wait our turn, okay?”

nima nods, crawling into neteyam’s lap as she holds her gift tight to her chest. “otay, daddy!” she begins to count “patiently” on her fingers. “one, two, fwee…” before she finds herself distracted, playing with neteyam’s songcord instead.

tsantu goes first, handing you a wrapped spartan leaf. you smile, unwrapping it to reveal a beautiful green beaded bracelet. “oh, this is beautiful, tsantu! did you make this yourself?”

tsantu nods, a proud grin spreading across his face. “yes momma.”

you pull him in close for a hug and a kiss on the top of his head. “thank you so much, i love it! i’m going to wear it right now.” you smile, sliding the bracelet on your wrist.

se’ayl goes next, handing you another wrapped spartan leaf. “wow, did you wrap these yourselves?” you ask, knowing very well your husband wrapped them.

“daddy helped us!” se’ayl smiles, clapping her hands together. you glance up to your mate, giving him a smirk. in return, he gives your thigh a gentle squeeze.

inside are multiple new feathers, bright and bold colors. “oh, these are so pretty! how did you find all of these?”

“daddy helped me when we went flying the other day.” she smiles, putting her hands behind her back. you pull her in for a gentle squeeze and a kiss on the head. “thank you so much! i’m going to put one in right now. which one should i wear?” you ask your oldest daughter, smiling widely.

“hmmmm, this one!” she holds up a bright yellow feather, handing it to you.

you smile, handing the feather to you mate. “would you mind helping me put this in, please?”

neteyam takes the feather from you, carefully attaching it to one of the braids tucked behind your ear. “so beautiful.” he states, kissing your cheek gently.

you smile at him, before txonuk is eagerly holding his present in front of your face. “mine next, mama!”

“all right, all right.” you laugh, opening his present next. inside is an arm cuff, woven with bioluminescent leaves.

“it glows, mama! our favorite!” he smiles proudly, as he knows you two both share a love for pandora’s bioluminescence.

“oh, txonuk.” your lower lip quivers a bit, really touched by all of these gifts. you slide it on your arm immediately, pulling your youngest son in for a hug and a kiss. “thank you very much.”

neteyam looks down at nima then, who’s happily sucking her thumb in his lap. “nima, it’s your turn now.” he says gently, helping her stand up.

“my tuwn!” she eagerly holds out her present, jumping up and down excitedly. inside are bright, colorful beads. “for hair, mama!”

you smile, grabbing a few of the beads and immediately threading them through one of your braids. “thank you, nima! they are so pretty.” you give her a tight hug, and a small kiss on the head. “thank you, all of you. this is so sweet, i love each of these gifts! but i love you all even more.” you hold your arms out, for a group hug as they all settle in, followed with four little “i love you, mama”s.

neteyam pulls a wrapped spartan leaf from behind his back, he’s had it tucked away this entire time. “happy mother’s day, my love.”

you smile widely, carefully opening the leaf. inside is a beautifully beaded necklace. four small beads, two on each side, with a larger bead in the center. the beads are all different colors, and the one in the center has the shape of a heart carved into it. your eyes water at the sight, your lower lip quivering.

“you made this?” is all you’re able to get out without breaking down.

neteyam nods, grinning as he rubs your arm gently. “four beads, for the four beautiful children you’ve given me, and one for my heart, that belongs to you.”

happy tears well in your eyes, overwhelmed with all the love you feel in this moment. “neteyam, it’s beautiful. will you help me put it on, please?” you brush your hair to one side, exposing your neck.

he smiles widely, carefully placing the necklace around your neck as he ties it secure. once he’s sure it’s secure in place, he leans in, giving you a soft, yet passionate kiss. “i love you.” he reminds you, placing his hand over your heart.

“i love you too.” you smile, resting your hand over his.

he leans in close then, his other hand gently caressing the small of your back as he whispers now. “there is another gift, although you’ll have to open it later tonight. i don’t think the children should be present for that one.” he smirks, placing a gentle kiss just below your ear before pulling away.

he walks over to where your children are now playing with one another, leaving your mind racing of what this present could be. your heart swells at the sight, thinking you couldn’t possibly love him any more than you already do.

you rest a hand over your new necklace, smiling as you watch your husband play with your children. in this moment, you’ve never felt more fortunate.

[lexithwrites]

Domestic bartylus hcs please???

with pleasure:

they have their gaming set ups next to each other so they can play together, they both have all the LEDs and the cute keyboards and comfy chairs, they also have the kitty headphones (barty's is black and red and regulus' is black and green)

they go out every saturday night either with their friends to the pub/club, or they got together, or they have a date night or they just go for a drive, maybe a film just for fun, they love leaving the house but only once a week lmao

barty is the one that cooks, surprisingly, and he teaches regulus a lot

regulus' love language is words of affirmation and barty is never short of compliments and something good to say about his man

they get high together a lot as well and that usually leads to them making out for hours

regulus loves barty's hands because they're huge, he loves holding them, having them on his waist, his ass, sucking his fingers—

barty makes them hot chocolate every morning during winter like his mum used to do for him and his sister

regulus paints barty's back sometimes when hes bored and just needs to go non-verbal and do something with his hands

they shower together but never have sex in the shower, waste of water

they have two cats, one black cat and one ginger and they're their babies

i love barty who does boxing at the gym and he 100% has regulus get into it as well and now regulus is a lil ripped and barty drools over his boyfriends back and arms

they have hand signals when they're in public for when they wanna go home

when barty has a bad episode he goes very quiet and doesnt take care of himself and regulus always runs him a bath and reads a book to him to try and relax him

regulus paints their nails matching colours every week

they also have matching/corresponding outfits that they wear for fun

regulus is the one person barty relaxes around whilst regulus only gets hyper around barty

does regulus have gremlin energy reserved just for him because barty will take it? absolutely

barty picks regulus up every chance he gets because he likes feeling him in his hands and just how much smaller he is

regulus dresses up as barty's favourite video game characters for his birthday for,,,,,reasons

barty dressed up as astarion for their anniversary and he still shivers when he thinks about how good it was

they're 'big shirt no pants' and 'pants no shirt' combo with pjs so they also match in those

barty's bubble tea order is a taro with max sugar and no ice, tapioca only whilst regulus' is a lemon with half sugar and green apple boba

they have trauma dumping sessions maybe once every few months just to get their shit off their chest

barty loves watching regulus sleep so he always falls asleep after him

regulus ticks sometimes when he's nervous and barty does think its cute but he also rubs his back to soothe him

barty's head twitches sometimes and thats his tick, along with 'the tongue thing' from canon

barty will sometimes crack his knuckles right next to regulus' ear to piss him off

their house is actually super small and cosy, they both lived in huge, sterile organised houses growing up and they just wanted something private and small together, there's so many candles and plants

[cowgurrrl]

Okayyy bear with me, this for our OFTM! What about a celeb who meets actress!reader at some awards or something or they’ve worked together and the pictures turn out so gorgeous and he uploads it with some cheesy lovey dovey caption and it kinda sets Joel off with jealousy and a bigggg green eyed monster. It doesn’t help that Tommy, Ellie, and Sarah start pulling his leg in their fam group chat saying oh wow look at mom with him or something and y’know tommy would pull his leg more to get a reaction out of Joel. And Joel is just alternating between fighting for his life in the chat and fighting for his wife with actress!reader and just comedy and fluffiness????

(also I have one more inspo that I dreamt of sending you in the next one)

OOOOOHHHH LOVE THIS I haven’t played around with jealous joel in SUCH A LONG TIME also I know you weren’t necessary referring them but I immediately thought of Jessica Chastain and Oscar Isaac because I MEAN

ANYWAYS HERE WE GO

Wildflower & Barley

Pairing: rockstar!joel miller x actress!reader

Summary: this ask

Warnings: ✨multi-media✨, jealousy, life stuff, literally just them being the sweetest couple

You sigh as you read the text. Joel is normally very comfortable in your relationship, unshaken by the various actors and actresses who’ve played your love interests and partners on screen. He shrugs off silly press comments, sits through love scenes remarkably well, and even goes as far as congratulating your costar on a job well done. “Not that it’s hard to pretend to be in love with her,” he said when asked about it in a red carpet interview a few years ago. But, once in a blue moon, he gets jealous and a little insecure. You figure Spencer’s post didn’t help with the little green monster sitting on his shoulder the past few months. 

With all your littles in school now, you’re extremely busy. You’re constantly running around from baseball practices, PTA meetings, recitals, doctor’s appointments, birthday parties, and more. Not to mention making time for all the Miller-Hernandez-Caradonna-Pierce grandkids, Isaac, Cecilia, and JJ. Joel’s working on a new album and getting his record label up and running while you’re not only directing and co-producing a smaller film while acting in a different one and getting ready to go on a (limited) press tour. You and Joel haven’t had the most time to catch up, and it feels like you’re passing ships. It’s temporary. You know it is, but it doesn’t feel good to see your costars more than you get to see your husband. You’re almost positive Joel’s jealousy stems from that. 

“Hey, you ready to get back to it?” Your co-producer, Ava, asks, jolting you out of your thoughts, and you nod. 

“Let’s do it.” You say as you tuck your phone into your back pocket. The day goes relatively smoothly with only one broken prop and an impromptu refresher session with one of your actors and the armorer. You make it a point to end the day early so you can get home and talk to Joel before one of you can fall asleep on the couch (a bad habit you’ve both developed recently), and thank god you did. 

The second you open the door, you can smell the delicious dinner Joel is making in the kitchen and hear the music he’s blasting through the Alexa. “Mom!” Sammy yells as he and the girls run over in a flurry of overlapping stories and demands for hugs and kisses. Even though Sam is nine now and on the cusp of thinking he’s too cool for his parents, he’s still your little love bug. 

“Mommy, will you come draw with me?” Violet asks and you smile as you tuck a curl behind her ear.

“Of course, baby. Can I go say hi to Daddy first?” 

“Fine but hurry!” Violet whines, making you laugh. You hang up your purse by the front door and toe off your shoes, already feeling better with your heels off, and pad into the kitchen. Joel is wearing the apron you got him for Christmas last year that says “Caution: Hot Dad” and made the older girls groan in embarrassment. You laugh when you see it on him, and he quickly turns down the Bee Gees to hear you. 

“You’re home early.” He says as he leans down to peck your lips and wrap an arm around your waist. You chase his lips and kiss him again before pulling away to look at him.

“Wanted to catch you before bedtime,” you say, and he hums. “Plus, we’re making good time on production. We can afford to cut a little early.”

“Well, I‘m glad you did.” He says. You can hear the kids in the other room playing loudly and you know Violet is gonna burst in any moment and order you to draw with her so you savor the semi-private moment with him.

“Are we okay?” You ask quietly and he takes a deep breath. 

“We’re okay.” 

“It’s okay if we’re not.” 

“Baby,” he soothes, slipping a hand in your back pocket. “We’re okay, I promise. I just… had a moment.” 

“It’s fine to have a moment. I don’t want you to keep that from me just because we’re busy,” you say. “You don’t actually think I’d trade you in for someone else or whatever the fuck Tommy said, right?” He sighs and you raise your eyebrows at him.

“Just… please tell me this isn’t like a Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing.” He says. You would laugh if he didn’t seem as upset as he does just because of how bizarre the idea is. How could anyone ever compare to him? How could he even think that you’d leave him like that?

“This isn’t a Mr. and Mrs. Smith thing. Not even close to it. Spencer has been married to his wife longer than we’ve been married and they’re solid. I promise, he just posted that to get people excited about the movie.”

“You’re not wearing your ring in the picture.” He says. You pull the chain hiding under your collar out and show him.

“I was. You just couldn’t see it.” 

“How long have you had that?” 

“Since we got engaged. You’ve definitely seen it before.” You say, laughing a little at the surprised look on his face. 

“Yeah, but I didn’t know that’s why you wore it. I thought you got it as a wrap gift or somethin’.” He defends. It makes sense why he wouldn’t know. You only take the necklace off when it can’t be hidden under the costume, and even then, it’s normally tucked into your pocket or, at the very least, hidden safely in your trailer. It’s a part of your routine to put your ring back on at the end of a shooting day or between breaks to help you transition back into your real life, which means Joel only sees it after it’s returned to its rightful spot. Even the few times he’s been on set filming something with you, you’ve been so busy that he didn’t have time to notice it. 

“Good to know I can still surprise you all these years later,” you say. He only looks a little embarrassed when he reaches around you to turn off the stove. The kids are, thankfully, still occupied, and you take the opportunity before it can slip away. “Joel, I adore you. I am still as helplessly in love with you as I was when we were in New York for the first time. There isn’t anybody else for me, okay? It’s you. It’s always gonna be you. So you don’t need to worry about costars or living Brangelina or whatever because you are it for me.” He works at his jaw as he processes your words, and you wait. Joel’s mind has always been an elusive one, so you like watching his gears turn. 

“Okay,” he mumbles finally. “I’m sorry.”

“You don’t have to be sorry. You just have to tell me when you’re feeling this way,” you say, kissing his jaw. “Besides, if you’d said something earlier, I would’ve been able to tell you that you’re a much better kisser than Spencer.”

“I was just gettin’ over the post, and now I have to watch y’all kiss?!” He groans dramatically, and you laugh. 

“You’re the one who married an actor.” 

“And I’d do it again.” He says as he kisses you, crowding your space so you’re stuck between him and the counter. It’s broken between giggles and kitchen timers beeping but it isn’t until Violet tugs at your shirt do you fully break away from Joel.

“Mommy, you said you would come draw with me.” She pouts, and you immediately drop down to her level.

“I’m so sorry, baby. I did say that. Daddy just had a hard day so I was trying to cheer him up. I can come draw with you now.” You explain, and she gasps, looking between you and Joel.

“Daddy!” She exclaims, putting her hands on her hips. “Why didn’t you tell me you were having a bad day?” 

“Because it’s not your job to fix Daddy’s day.” 

“But I want to! Can I give you a kiss?”

“I wanna give Daddy a kiss!” Sophia runs in, launching herself into Joel’s arms. He scoops both girls up and kiss his cheeks simultaneously, making you both laugh. 

“Thank you, girls. You always make me feel better.” He says, and they giggle.

“What about Mom?” Sam asks. He’s too big and too tall for you to pick him up anymore, but he snuggles perfectly under your arm and squeezes you tight. 

“You’re so sweet, honey. Thank you.” You say, kissing his head. 

“Are you better now?”

“So much better.” 

“Daddy, are you better?” Violet asks. Joel meets your eyes over the heads of the kids and smiles. It’s sweet and just for you, and you can’t help but smile back. 

“I’m perfect.”