#the rest of my shift will be me cleaning dishes i made and washing the piping bags and then cleaning and helping customers

[hellfireeddiemunson]

fuck today honestly im so overstimulated i want to throw a full tantrum on the fucking floor

[princncess]

Your captor finishes the meal you made her, and instructs you to clean the dishes. She lazily gestures with the taser in her hand, her weapon of choice, toward the sink. You stand up and start collecting her dishes, bringing them back to the sink. She doesn’t move from her seat. Stepping close to her makes you nervous, but she just watches you calmly. You turn on the water and pick up a plate to start washing it, and-

You feel her footstep behind you, and before you can startle, her left arm is around your chest, groping you, and you feel the hard plastic of the taser jamming sharply into your hip. You tense up and grip the plate tightly, frozen in place.

Softly in your ear, she says “Go ahead and start cleaning now, little love.”

“Please don’t tase me right now…”

“Mmm, why’s that?” She shifts a little, nestling you in her arms a bit tighter.

“I don’t want to drop a plate, and the taser might make me.” You try not to show any fear that might entice her to hurt you.

Her voice immediately drops to a stern, harsh tone, much louder but still just as close to your ear. “If you break one of my dishes, I will fucking kill you.” She grabs you much tighter, and you hear and feel the taser’s safety click off. You make a barely contained whine and twitch as if she really had pressed the button.

You speak in a much higher, more whimpering voice, taking quick shallow breaths. “Well then, please don’t tase me, because I don’t want to die-” You gulp and take a few more quick breaths, and try to shift your voice to a less pitiful and more “nervously trying to appear as best buds with someone who wants you dead” tone. “I don’t think you want me to die either- right? You want to keep me around and not have me get all gross and rotten- plus I couldn’t do chores for you if I was dead, and if you kept me around after that, I’d be another chore for you, right? Like, keeping my corpse-” the thought of yourself as a corpse, and the fact that you’re talking about it as a very real possibility stops you in your tracks for a moment. You gulp again. “Like keeping my corpse from getting messy, or spraying perfume on it for the smell, or… Stuff like that…” Your voice is shaky. Your head hangs down. You don’t dare look back at her face, because the tear rolling down yours would have her excited and pushing you to the floor, plate be damned. You wait for a response.

“Eh, I guess you’ve convinced me. Carry on.” She doesn’t turn the safety back on. Your hand shakes as you reach for the dish soap, and you start scrubbing the plate in your hand. It’s finished and you move to put it on the drying rack, but freeze for just a moment, thinking fast. If the only reason she’s not tasing you is because you’ll drop a dish, what happens when you aren’t holding one? Time resumes, and you grab another dirty dish before putting the clean plate down. Did she just exhale? Was she thinking the same thing as you?

You’ve repeated the process a few more times, with her hand on you the whole time and without ever forgetting about the taser. Now you’re holding a plate with just silverware left to wash. Nobody cares about dropped silverware, you probably shouldn’t put down this plate. You figure out a way to hold the silverware with the plate hand, and scrub it with the other, and you repeat this process for the rest of the silverware. You figure whatever ran off the silverware might have dirtied the plate again, so you wash it once more. You hope she lets go and finds something else to do now that your task is done. You still hold the last plate as everything else is drying.

“Okay, I finished…”

“Thank you, darling,” she says with a squeeze from her hand. “Go ahead and put down the plate now.”

You don’t move. She says again, in that same sweet tone, “Go on.”

“I can’t…”

“How come, little lady?” Saccharine. She has to have been thinking the same thing as you this whole time. No point in playing a game at this point.

“I know what happens when I put it down…”

“Aww, I’m sure you do, clever doll.” Her voice loses some of its comforting sweetness. “Put it down.”

“Please-”

Her voice switches all the way again. “Put it down. Now.”

You reluctantly slide the plate between the bars of the drying rack. You shut your eyes tight. You bring your arms back to your body, wrapped around your own stomach, comforting and bracing yourself.

[going-to-ikea-for-the-fries]

Breaking Dishes. - OC

pairing: F!OC: Kathleen "Brass" Moore x John Price words: 2.7K~ cw: smut, arguments, violence, fighting/roughousing, breaking dishes, insults, toxic relationship.

It’s 8:12 A.M. when Kathleen finds herself sliding off bed and wrapping herself in a flowery black and pink silk robe. John’s side of the bed is cold, a sign he’s gotten up long ago.

She pads over to their en-suite bathroom and quickly washes her face, brushes her teeth and her hair, before she leaves the bedroom in search of her husband.

As she enters the kitchen, she finds her temper already rising, her jaw clenching as she looks around, finding multiple reasons to get angry already, so early in the morning, so early in a weekend morning.

First, she finds that he’s made breakfast already. Not for them, just for himself. Nothing for her. Selfish bastard.

Second, he made himself a full English too. Having left the rest of the eggs and sausages out of the fridge. The milk too even though he KNOWS she hates when he does that.

Third, he’s left a mess of pans and utensils on the kitchen stove… Which means she can’t even cook herself breakfast if she wanted to.

Fourth, the water kettle is not full enough for her to make herself a cuppa. In fact, the water in it is already lukewarm, even if there was enough to make herself one, she still couldn’t.

And fifth, John is sitting outside in the balcony, getting some sun, while only wearing a pair of jeans, showing off his strong torso and bulging arms to the whole neighborhood. Like a bloody tart.

Oh… Kathleen. is. pissed.

“JONATHAN. WILLIAM. PRICE!” She calls out at the top of her lungs as she whips the sliding glass door open and coming face to face with the man of the hour.

“Morning, Kat.” John greets her, completely calm and collected as he looks up at her, leaning his elbow lazily on the table next to him, which holds his empty breakfast plate and cutlery. 

He’s lounging without a care in the world, a grey wool sweater across his lap, and a mug of tea in his hand.

“Morning my arse! Did’ya see the mess you left in the kitchen?!” She asks him pointedly, brown eyes wide as she glares pure daggers at him.

Unfortunately for her, her raising her voice and her stern glares do little to him now, four years into their relationship, one into their marriage. He’s gotten used to them.

“Calm your tits, woman, I’m going to clean it after I’m done here.” He replies nonchalantly as he gestures vaguely. “Can’t I have a moment’s peace?”

“Oh, you want a moment’s peace, do ya?” She asks him as she crosses her arms over her chest, dipping her head to the side. “When do I get a moment’s peace, hm? When do I get a bloody weekend when I wake up and there’s not a mess to clean or with my breakfast made for me?” She asks with a cocked brow.

John shifts around in “I let you sleep in. Didn’t make any noise. You chose to get up right now. Could've stayed asleep and you would've woken up to clean dishes.” He remaked with a shrug.

“Ex-cuse me?” Kathleen asked pointedly as she stared at him. 

“You heard me. You’re getting an attitude for no reason, da’ling.” John remarked as he finished gulping down his tea.

Kathleen wanted to yell at him some more. She really wanted to. The man drove her insane, especially when he was like this… Correct.

“Don’t you gaslight me, Jonathan. I have a right to want to wake up to a clean house and some food made for me!” She retorted, grasping at straws for something to justify her anger.

“And this is after you complained I never make breakfast the way you like it?” He retorted as he looked her up and down before standing up, gathering his plate, cutlery and empty cup of tea.

“You-!” She sputtered a bit as she looked up at her husband, who gently moved her aside so he could slip past her back inside the house. “I- You-!” She continued as she followed after him.

”Face it, Kat, you have no leg to stand on, da’lin’.” John remarked as he entered the kitchen.

“Don’t you bloody walk away from me!” She raised her voice and suddenly shoved him from behind. It caused his empty cup of tea to roll of its perch atop the dirty plate he was carrying and shatter into a million pieces on the hardwood floor. 

John stopped in his tracks as soon as the cup fell, so as to not step on the shards and turned to look at her over his shoulder. “Was that fuckin’ necessary, da’lin’?”

“Yes.” Kathleen replied with a bite to her tone as she stared up into his eyes, holding her ground even as he turned and stood over her.

“Really? What’d I do to deserve that push, hm?” He asked her as he dipped his head to the side, blue eyes trailing over the form of his wife beneath him, wrapped in a silken robe that wrapped beautifully around her full figure.

Meanwhile, Kathleen’s brown eyes were glued to her husband’s figure too, trailing over the strong neck, broad shoulders, muscular pecs, soft stomach, and the abundant hair that covered it. 

“You- You were sitting outside like a bloody tart, showin’ off for the bloody neighbors!” She suddenly said as her eyes shot up to look at him, having found something to grasp on to yell at him some more.

John’s eyebrows raised, his lips morphed into a smirk and he gave her a mocking look, his nose scrunching up a bit. “Is that what this is, da’lin’? You’re jealous?” He asked her condescendingly.

“Oh piss off, John, I’m not jealous!” She retorted pointedly as she glared at him.

“Right…” John asked as he took a step over her. “Then why are you complaining about me being shirtless, then?” He teased her as one of his hands moved to grasp her around the chin, squeezing her face lightly.

“I-” Kathleen tried to defend herself, having already realized that today just wasn’t one of her days when it came to having a sharp tongue. So she did what she could, ever competitive she was, wasn’t going to take the disrespect lying down.

Grabbing his forearm, she ripped his hand off her face, then, took the plate off his other hand, and threw it across the living room blindly, hearing it shatter somewhere, probably against the bookshelf by the TV.

“Fuck. You. John Price. I’m sick and tired of your bloody attitude.” She pointed a finger in his face and then poked him on the chest. “You think you can walk around here as you wish, as if you’re in bloody charge? I think the fuck not!” She scolded him.

John didn’t even flinch at her poking him, or the plate being hurled across the room. He was used to this. Used to her. Hell, it turned him on when Kathleen was being a cunt to him.

John reached forward and grabbed her by her right forearm, pulling her against him. “Yeah? Then who’s in charge, da’lin’?” He challenged as he looked down his nose at her.

“It sure as hell isn’t you!” She retorted, her voice, much like her hackles, raised, even if she didn’t try, at all, to pull away from him. She wasn’t afraid of John. Never had been, never would be.

“Let’s see about that then.” John told her as he pulled her over to the living couch, spun her away from him and bent her over the armchair.

Kathleen squeaked softly, knowing well what was coming, as John pinned her wrists behind her back with one hand, the other rolling up her robe to expose her thighs and her ass.

“Who’s in charge, hm?” John goaded her before he whipped his hand back and delivered a hard smack to one of her round ass cheeks, causing it to ripple, a moan falling from her parted lips.

“Not. You.” She replied, huffing a moan again when he delivered a second smack to her ass. “Fuck. You. John.” She grunted through her teeth.

“What’d you say, da’lin’?” John asked as he leaned close to her ear. “Did you just tell me to go fuck myself?” He teased, watching as she fruitlessly writhed over the armrest, her head buried down in the couch cushion, her hands and arms struggling in his grip.

She rolled her head to the side so she could catch him through the corner of her eye. “Yes, I fucking did. And I’ll say it again. Fuck you, John.” She spat at him.

“Tsk-tsk. Brat.” John mused with a smirk on his lips. She could hear it. Then he smacked her again, and again, always making sure to strike the same spot, her skin already redening and blushing as the skin warmed up and the blood vessels popped below it.

John only gave her a break once the dulcets of her voice had softened and her moans had become whimpers, her arms and hands having gone limp in his grasp. “Who’s in charge, Kat?” He checked as he looked at her with a satisfied smirk on his lips.

Kathleen’s brown eyes caught his, her face just as red as her ass, her eyes widened, pupils blown from lust. “Fuck. You.” She gritted through her teeth.

“Oh, that wasn’t enough was it, sweet’art?” He goaded again. “Very well.” He added. John’s hand grabbed hold of the waist band of her panties and pulled them down swiftly, noting the wet spot she had already left in them. 

“Someone’s enjoying being spanked huh, you brat? Someone likes having an attitude adjustment…” He goaded as he let go of her panties, letting them fall around her ankles.

Before Kathleen could even retort properly, John’s rough and calloused fingers delivered a slap to her puffy cunt, causing her to squirm and squeal, her legs straightening up and trembling. 

“John!” She cried out as he continued repeatedly slapping her pussy, causing her to squirm and writhe against the hard material of the armrest below her. 

“That’s it, call my name, da’lin’.” He goaded as he kept repeatedly and continuously smacking her warm, wet folds. “Who’s in charge, here, huh?”

“F-Fuck… You!” She spat at him, as she finally freed her arms from John’s weakened grip. Then, she threw an elbow back, hitting her husband squarely in the nose.

“Ah, you cunt!” John complained as he suddenly stumbled back back, one hand shooting up to cup his now bleeding nose, while Kathleen suddenly rolled off her perch on the couch.

“No, you’re the cunt!” She retorted before suddenly lunging herself at him, throwing her whole weight on top of John, who, not expecting it, landed on the floor with a hard thud.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Kat!” John replied as he tried to get a grab at his wife, instead, only getting her trying to grip him by the arms and pin him to the floor.

She struggled with it, of course, she might have some military training, but not nearly enough to fight him, and definitely not enough strength to fight him.

His forearms bulged under her hands, the rough skin prickling with goosebumps, the adrenaline flowing through his veins, as well as hers, the both of them desperate to fight the other.

John bucked his hips and rolled them over before she could even attempt a proper pin down, landing her on the floor with a thud and a huff from her lungs.

He grabbed her by the hair with one hand, the other gripping her wrists together and pining her to the floor instead. 

Kathleen wrapped her legs around his hip and attempted to roll them over again, unsuccessfully, so, instead, she did the only thing she could do. She leaned up and spat in John’s face.

John’s eyes closed for a moment and his jaw clenched before they opened again, looking even more angry and… horny than before. “Is that how it’s going to be, Kathleen?” He asked her as he let go of her hair and used his hand to collect the spit off his skin. 

“Yeah, it is-” She barely had time to continue before he was plugging her mouth with his fingers, causing her to swallow them and her own saliva back up, pressing down on his tongue, preventing her from continuing her tirade.

“Keep your smart-ass gob shut, sweetheart, or you won't have a fuckin' jaw to move when I'm done wit ya.” He told her, eyes locked on hers. Kathleen looked up at him, eyes widened, pupils blown, before she wrapped her lips around his fingers, beginning to give him a suck.

“That’s it…” He told her. “You look so much better with your mouth shut…” He goaded her with a smirk on his lips. Kathleen’s eyes sparkled with mischief at his comment, a clear sign that she felt challenged by his condescending tone… So, she bit down onto his fingers as hard as he could.

“Fuckin’ ‘ell, Kat…” John hissed as he pushed his fingers deeper in her mouth like one would a dog, causing her to sputter and choke, and forcing her to let go of them, allowing him to pull them back out.

“C’mere.” He demanded and grabbed her jaw with tight fingers, forcing her mouth to open, before he swished his tongue inside his own mouth to collect some saliva, before spitting it into her mouth. “Swallow.” He demanded and, for once, she obeyed. “Good fuckin’ girl.”

Kathleen then squeaked in surprise as he pulled open her robe, leaving it splayed open on the hardwood floor before he grabbed one of her legs, pushing it up against her chest while he sat over the other one.

“We need to adjust that fuckin’ attitude of yours. It’s way too bloody early for you to be fightin’ me, you hear?!” He taunted her as he undid the fly in his jeans and shimmied both his the trousers and boxer briefs down, allowing him to pull out his hardened cock.

“Fuck you, John.” She retorted as she squirmed a bit beneath him, trying to drag herself away with the help of her elbows.

“That’s what I’m about to do to you, sweetheart.” He taunted her before he quickly grabbed hold of her again, using one hand to push her down against the floor, one hand wrapped around her jaw and neck, while the other wrapped around his cock and used it to brush his leaky tip against her folds.

“John-” Kathleen grumbled as she wrapped her own hands around his hairy forearm, nails digging into his flexed muscle, dragging drown his skin.

“Sh-Shhh…”  He murmured before he drove his cock deep into her cunt, causing her to huff and moan, her head falling back as he plunged as far as he could.

“That’s my girl…” He teased her. He shifted around and lifted her other leg too, pushing it forward against her chest, allowing him to sink in deeper, before he started thrusting his hips down into her.

Her warm walls spread open to accommodate him, his cock making way inside fully with each snap of his hips. “That’s it… That’s what you needed, isn’t it?” He goaded her with a smirk. Unluckily for her, Kathleen could do little more than nod in agreement.

“Tell me you love me, da’lin’...” John cooed at his wife as he pounded deep into her, reaching that spot in her walls that only John had ever been able to reach.

“I love y-oooh…” Kathleen murmured, being cut off by a sudden shift in his demeanor, a more aggressive, ruthless rhythm coming into place, his hips snapping punishingly against hers, his cock bottoming out in her.

“That’s it, Kat, tell me you love me… Tell me you love me…” He repeated over and over. “Tell me you love me and my cock inside you, da’lin’... Tell me…”

“I love you, John…” Kathleen whined, her head rolling back on the hard floor, her arms wrapping around his neck and shoulders, fingers digging into the flesh spot between his shoulder blades, her nails just barely grazing the tattoo on his nape.

“You’re such a fuckin’ cunt, Kat… Such a fuckin’ cunt… But I love you so much…” John murmured before he pressed his lips into hers in a sloppy, wet kiss.

[sillystargirll]

What a Glow

cw: Pregnancy kink & sex, tit kink, slight use of Spanish words, slight use of Y/N

characters: Fem reader, Alejandro Vargas

"Oh mija your glowing, I can't wait for my grandbaby to just be here." you hear Alejandro's mother cried in happiness. which makes Alejandro smiles, he wraps a hand around you, pulling you closer to him while his other hand reaches to soothe your big belly.

"Gracias, suegra" you responded with a smiled, Alejandro looked at you admiring your face. Over the months your face is somehow so much more beautiful. You’re always beautiful– But in the past six months Alejandro has found a different beauty in you.

“Let’s not waste too much time. I made your favorite, mija” Alejandro's mother stands up, and you both rise as well. You go to the table and take a seat, your mouth watering at the food that’s ready to be served.

You and Alejandro had decided to stay over at his parents' house for the weekend. Alejandro and you lived on the outskirts of las alamas which was a couple of hours from the city.  so it’s not ideal to visit them and go back home the same day because in the end you’re both exhausted. His parents have bugged you and him to spend more time with them before you have your son, and here you are.

While you eat, there’s some light conversation that fills up the space. And although Alejandro is usually talkative, tonight he’s quiet. He keeps looking at you, his eyes glued to your belly. His hand goes to your thigh and he leaves it there for the rest of the dinner. you raised an eyebrow but didn't question it.

After dinner, you helped clean up the table and wash dishes with your mother-in-law. you head upstairs to the shared room you and Alejandro share. Upon opening the door Alejandro is sitting on the edge of the bed .looking around his old room and then looking at him. You walk over to your bag to grab a nightgown you brought.

You take off your shirt, and his eyes nearly go wide. He’s salivating at the sight. He shifts uncomfortably with the erection that’s in his pants. He can control himself with the sight in front of him, right? He can’t just fuck you at his parents' house. That wouldn’t be decent.

"are you okay babe?'You ask. He slightly nods, but you’re not convinced. You walk over to him and take a seat next to him. You don’t know what you’re doing to him by just sitting down next to him. You put your hand on his back, and he’s doing his best to look at your face, and not at anything else. “You know you can tell me anything, right?”

"I do, mi amor.." He tells you, his eyes staring at your cleavage. The dirtiest thoughts go through his mind, and he hopes that with a simple peck, it’ll go away. So he kisses your cheek, hoping that all obscene thoughts will go away. He pulls away, and the thoughts have somehow become even more intense… Or perhaps he has lost all sense because how is a simple kiss going to erase the dirty thoughts that consume his mind?

You put your free hand over his, looking at his eyes. You notice how he’s looking at your breasts, a reminder that you’re sitting down with no shirt, just your bra. He’s so focused… You watch him lick his lips, and you sincerely don’t know how to help the man out. He finally meets your gaze, “What would you do if I told you the problem?”

“That we’re at my parents’ house and we can’t do that here.” You lower your voice, getting up from the bed to take off your pants. Now you stand in front of him, just in your underwear which doesn’t help his case. He stands up, taking a few steps towards you before hugging you from behind, his hands resting on your belly.

“I can be quiet… I promise I will be. It’ll be quick and rewarding for both of us.” He begins and doesn’t wait for an answer as one hand goes to your back to unhook your bra, while the other goes down to your panties. He kisses your neck. “It’ll be so quick, mi amor…”

"A-Alejandro." You say, feeling as if his fingertips burn your skin not realizing that it’s your own body temperature rising at the thought of fucking your husband. You’ve been so undeniably horny which is a side effect of your pregnancy, one that Alejandro loves. He pushes your panties down, and they easily fall to the floor. Next thing you know, your bra is on the floor as well. He kisses your neck again before his lips go up to your ear.

“Verte embarazada de mi hijo realmente me tiene alterado... ¿Puedes culparme?” He whispers. And the next thing you know, you’re on top of him on the bed, his upper body lifting a bit so his mouth latches on one of your nipples while his hand plays with the other.

You know why Alejandro chose this position, and it isn’t because he wants to have your engorged tits on his face… Although it doesn’t hurt. He just wants to feel your sweet cunt for longer because sex is so much slower when you’re riding him. Sure he wants quick sex but he wants to enjoy it as long as possible.

Maybe you would have protested because you know why he wants this, but horniness has taken over your mind. You’re thinking of the pants that are on the floor of the bedroom. Your hand is aligning his erect cock with your entrance. 

You slowly push yourself down on his cock, your eyes rolling to the back of your head as you take every inch. You’re trying to keep quiet, reminding yourself that your in-laws are two doors down in the same house. The door is locked but you don’t want them to know what you’re doing with your husband. It’s hard to keep quiet though with his cock inside of you and him sucking on your tits. Maybe if it was one or the other, not both at the same time.

You feel the vibrations of his moans as he feels how good your pussy feels around him, how you’re slowly moving on his dick. Kento loves fucking you, but now that you’re pregnant, your cunt just feels so much different. It’s great. While he’s at work all he can think about is burying his cock deep inside you and fucking you into oblivion. And he’s always had occasional lewd thoughts about you while at work, but not intense as this.

You feel the vibrations of his moans as he feels how good your pussy feels around him, how you’re slowly moving on his dick. Alejandro loves fucking you, but now that you’re pregnant, your cunt just feels so much different. It’s great. While he’s at work all he can think about is burying his cock deep inside you and fucking you into oblivion. And he’s always had occasional lewd thoughts about you while at work, but not intense as this.

“Fuck-” You moan, your voice very low. You remember His parents are in the house so you can’t be as loud as you want, but that awareness is slowly fading as you move. Your mind begins to get foggy, just thinking of one thing and one thing only.

Alejandro detaches himself from your nipple, finally laying back down on the bed, just watching as you struggle with your pregnant belly to move on him. You’re so slow, but he doesn’t mind. The longer he’s inside of you, the happier he is. 

He barely can see what’s happening, but he knows his cock is coated with your juices. He doesn’t know why, but since the beginning of your pregnancy it’s happened. In the end, after orgasming, it would’ve happened but now you’re not even halfway done and his cock is already like this.

“Eres tan Linda,bebe” Alejandro coos, watching as you struggle to move. Your hands go to his chest to hold on for support. He’s enjoying himself watching you. But he’s such a sweet caring husband, that he has to help you.

He begins to thrust his hips, biting his bottom lip to not make any noises while he clearly picks up speed. One hand is on your belly while the other is over your mouth. Now, he wouldn’t be such a bad husband that he’d let his parents hear as you get fucked, would he?

“Ah, eso , cariño.” He groans, feeling as you tighten around him. He hears muffled moans as your orgasm approaches. It’s just too much for you to take… It’s so good but it’s so much.

Your eyes shut. Your body shakes as your orgasm takes over, a really loud moan leaving your lips which is thankfully muffled by your husband.

You feel even more amazing now, that he’s thinking of slowing himself down to not come yet. He wants to make this last longer, and he knows the moment he comes he won’t feel your cunt again until you leave.

So he doesn’t take his opportunity to come and he slows his thrusts. He just wants to watch as his pregnant wife, with his hand over her mouth, takes his cock.

"QUE PASO?!" There’s a knock on the door, making Alejandro come to a complete stop. You both stare at each other wide-eyed. "We heard something slamming into the wall."

“Uh… Yeah!” You yell back. “It must be the neighbors! Damn, they’re loud!”

[inoreuct]

drink from me

a sherry-laced conversation about thirst and running away. zosan | 2k | hurt/comfort

Being a coward isn’t as easy as one might think.

It’s juxtaposition in its own right; cowardice is, as defined, a lack of bravery— And yet Sanji supposes it takes bravery to be able to ditch everything you stand for. To turn tail and run. Bravery to bear upon your shoulders the disappointment of everybody who had ever believed in you. 

He sighs deeply, tilting the bottle in his hand so that the dregs of liquor slosh within. This is why he doesn’t drink.

It’s relatively easy most days. To lock his past behind a set of double doors, bar the handles with a padlock and chain so he can pretend that everything he’s running from isn’t just three paces behind, snapping at his heels, starved and ready to eat him up whole. Alcohol slots the key back into place and twists it without his permission. Twists his heart until it aches.

He doesn’t know why he’d started. The bottle of sherry had sat, nondescript and guileless and half-full on the galley table after the night’s dessert, and Sanji had paused before he’d slowly wrapped his fingers around the neck of it and let his nails scrape against the dark glass.

The cork had popped almost too easily and here he is now, taffrail digging into his forearms as he takes a long drag from his cigarette and lets bitter smoke fill his lungs full to bursting. Blood orange coats the back of his tongue, cloyingly sweet, thick on the roof of his mouth— He’d made a layered trifle with cacao nibs and caramelised cream that had been slathered between slabs of boozy vanilla sponge, and the aftertaste clings to his teeth. Sanji peers down as what’s left of the sherry glimmers vaguely inside the bottle and fights the urge to chug the rest. 

He could, if he really wanted to. He hardly drinks but it certainly doesn’t mean he can’t. 

A soft scrape against wood catches his attention, barely perceptible. He fights to keep his spine from stiffening, fights to maintain his loose-limbed, easy demeanor; the liquid warmth in his veins helps some but not enough, and he’s halfway through another drag when near-silent footsteps stop just behind him. 

Zoro’s haori shifts in the wind, palm loosely wrapped around the end of Wado’s hilt where she’s strapped alone to his hip. “Was wondering where you went,” he says easily, looking out over the ocean. 

Sanji scoffs. It burns his throat more than the sherry did. “For someone built like that, you’re surprisingly quiet, marimo.”

The immediate urge to kick himself is something new. He rarely feels it— It appears often, don’t get him wrong, he just. Ignores it. It’s a little more difficult tonight. Built like that. The noise that escapes him is mirthless. What’s that even supposed to mean, huh? Alcohol’s always made him snappy and he does feel bad for once — But he’s tired, and the chores won’t do themselves. 

“Make it quick, would you?” he mutters when Zoro still hasn’t replied, low and quiet in the still evening air as he curves down to dig the heel of his palm into his temple. “My spice jars are still all over the counter, and I have to mop the floor before I wash the dishes—”

“It’s done.” 

Sanji blinks, before his eyes narrow and he turns his head to look at Zoro properly. “The dishes?”

“Everything.” The swordsman huffs when Sanji gives him a dubious look, gaze flicking over and away again as he rolls his eye. “Luffy asked me to clean up the galley. Said you needed a break.”

Well. The cook exhales, measured, and buries his face into the crook of his elbow. Taps his cig so that ash doesn’t fall into his hair where he’s holding it aloft above his head. “Tell him thanks, but I don’t.”

He clocks it out of his peripheral vision when Zoro smirks and waves a hand to gesture to his cigarette and his slouch and the glass bottle dangling against wood. “What’s this, then?”

I don’t know. Shop’s closed, please fuck off and come back tomorrow morning. 

The other words that sit at the tip of Sanji’s tongue are far more scathing. He feels them, bites them back viciously before he can burn anyone other than himself. “If there’s a single thing out of place in there I’m gonna—”

“Kick my ass, I know, I know.” Zoro chuckles under his breath. “Don’t you get tired of saying the same things over and over again?”

“Maybe I wouldn’t have to if you didn’t constantly choose to be selectively deaf, moss-for-brains.”

The swordsman huffs another soft laugh, and conversation peters out after that. Sanji feels an itch building at the base of his skull, flickering just under his skin; it’s making him restless. He taps the bottle against the rail just to fill the silence. Zoro reaches a hand out and Sanji gives it to him easily, unthinkingly, watching and pretending he isn’t as the swordsman thumbs over the faded paper label that’s peeling at the corner. 

Zoro’s hands are scarred, he notes. He knows this, of course, but he never gets tired of letting his gaze drift over tan skin and old scars, thin slivers of pearly tissue painted silver in the moonlight. A breeze ruffles his hair as Zoro finally drinks, and he’s distantly surprised to see that it’s a measured sip and not a swig like what it usually would have been. 

Fucking hell. Sanji’s inhale shudders when he pushes himself up and stands straight, now-free hand wrapping around lacquered wood as he finishes his cigarette and tosses the butt over the side. He needs to stop thinking. He’s paying too much attention. There’s a pressure building behind his forehead and Zoro is an overwhelming presence beside him, unavoidable, stoic and staunch as ever, perfect posture, perfect honour, a sentinel with a pure white sword like some sort of— of hero from a storybook. Perfect perfect perfect.

It’s all building like a scream behind his lips, a river at a bottleneck, and he clenches his jaw to keep it in. Grits his teeth until he hears them creak because what would happen if he opened his mouth? Nothing good, he’s sure. Nothing anyone needs.

Sanji nearly startles when the bottle taps against his elbow. “Talk to me.”

“Nothing to say,” he replies immediately, taking a careless gulp and holding in a cough. 

Zoro’s slow exhale feels like it shifts the wind itself. Their ship creaks gently. “You always have something to say, curls.”

“Look, you—” He cuts himself off, tempering his breath. “I’m tired, alright? So can you just get to the point?” Fuck, he needs another cigarette. 

Maybe that’s the problem. He knows he’s the problem, sure, but Sanji suspects that he’s been running for so long that he’s forgotten how to walk. It’s grown into him like weeds wound through his ribs, the way he sees poison in water that’s perfectly clean, the way peace makes him more anxious than chaos does. He needs to stop running. He doesn’t know how. 

Zoro pries the sherry from his fingers and it’s only then that he relaxes the death grip he’d unintentionally had, a shudder slipping over his shoulders. Zoro holds the bottle loosely between his scarred fingers and doesn’t drink.

The silence thickens. Static crackles within his bones.

Sanji doesn’t know why he starts talking. Doesn’t know why it feels like a dam breaking in his chest, but his mouth is open, and the words are emptying out. “I’m tired of looking over my shoulder for something that isn’t there. Luffy gave me something to run towards, for once, but—”

He doesn’t know how to say it’s not enough without sounding ungrateful, without being greedy. “Sometimes I think I could… consume every one of the Blues, and still want more,” he allows. “Need more.” His fingers lace together, and Sanji dips his head with a wry smile even as he looks at the endless expanse of sky in front of them. “I’m afraid I’ll drink the world and still come up dry.”

There is a thirst in him. Something different than what had wracked him for a month on that barren rock. Hunger he can handle; he eats just enough to stave it off and goes about his day. This, though— Sanji can’t help the way it buzzes in the back of his head and keeps him wound up like a coil of electrical wire. He kneads dough and whisks egg whites just to have something to do with his hands. He defaults to his usual barbs when he’s feeling ungrounded so he can kid himself into thinking he possesses some semblance of normality. His shoulders ache as he stares out over the sea and wonders what it’s like to hold so much and still, still, be so achingly empty.

The winds change, carding cool fingers through his hair. 

“Drink from me,” Zoro says, and Sanji’s breath catches between his teeth.

His head snaps up to find Zoro already looking at him, face unreadable, elbows on the taffrail and bottle cupped in his hands. The swordsman looks serene, Sanji thinks. Gaze trained straight ahead, ever clear of his objectives as Wado gleams at his side, starlight in an ivory sheath. 

“Drink from me,” he repeats. The words are solemn as they always are in moments like these, the liminal space just after dusk but before true night, as his eyes shift over to Sanji and lock in place. “I won’t let you go thirsty again.” 

Sanji’s mouth dries. It’s hard not to feel pinned as Zoro looks at him; the weight of his gaze is almost physically tangible, like a familiar green coat settling over his shoulders. That’s the thing about Zoro— For all Sanji jokes about him having plant life in his skull, the swordsman has a penchant for dropping absolutely earth-shaking statements without even seeming to think about them at all. The cook swallows once, twice, tries to find his words as his lips part and loses them as soon as he takes his next breath.

He doesn’t know if he’ll ever stop feeling like a ticking time bomb. But as Zoro’s lashes flutter and he looks away, Sanji feels something in him settle. The relentless buzz that always seems to sit just beneath his skin soothes out into a quiet hum. 

Maybe part of it’s how Zoro’s scarred and still perfect. Untouchable. Sanji couldn’t hurt him even if he tried, even if he blows apart.

His fingers wrap, unthinking, around the neck of the bottle as it’s pushed back into his hand, the pressure of Zoro’s touch lingering until he’s sure that Sanji has a good grip. The swordsman’s boots brush softly across the planks as he turns to leave and he’s halfway to the stairs before Sanji speaks.

“Marimo.”

He knows Zoro turns without even looking. “Hm?”

“Did Luffy really ask you to clean up the galley?”

A pause, before Zoro starts walking again. “Get some sleep, cook. I’ll take the rest of your watch.”

The silence he leaves in his wake is honey-thick. First watch is Sanji’s shift, it always is— He cleans up the galley and stays awake until Zoro comes to take over. 

(The galley is clean. His watch is covered. His mind is quiet.

For once, he can’t find himself another reason to stay.)

 

The sherry holds no evidence of them ever having shared it. Sanji lifts the tinted glass and there’s no trace of Zoro, no proof that his mouth had ever been where Sanji’s is— None of the candied orange and rosemary from the duck they’d had for dinner, gamey and blood-sweet.

I won’t let you go thirsty again.

Sanji tastes it still, gentle in the back of his throat as he drains the bottle.

[hellfirexwhore]

Forget What You've Heard E.M.

Line cook!Eddie Munson x Bartender!Reader

Sorry it took so long between posts! I've been working all day every day so it's busy over here. I hope you enjoy! 

I do not give permission for my work to be copied / posted as original work on any platform.

Your favorite co-worker's flirty nature is your favorite part of the workday, but is it genuine? Someone is feeding you lies just as your patrons are being fed mozzarella sticks and Eddie is determined to convince you he's not just playing games with your heart.

Misunderstanding, hurt/comfort, fluff, cursing, an asshole named Dylan (We all know one), use of Y/N

Wordcount 4.7k

You smile to yourself as you count up the tips you've made so far. Bartending has done wonders for your wallet, and it's totally worth it if you can look over the long hours on your feet, creeps trying to get into your pants, and going home smelling like sour mix and sweat. You just moved to Hawkins 6 months ago and since living on your own is expensive, you serve beers and shake cocktails at the karaoke bar downtown to make a living. It's easy work and you're good at it, but there's just one issue; your favorite co-worker is a huge distraction. Eddie is the cutest damn line cook you've ever seen with his curly hair always tied into a low bun and his smile that you're sure could cure a number of diseases, but those things don't make it easy to do your job efficiently. It's nearly impossible to grab a platter of nachos from the window without him throwing out a wink and calling you sweetheart, telling you you're doing a good job, or even sliding a basket of fries to you with a finger to his lips as a way of saying "Don't tell on me, honey." 

Tonight is no different. Eddie has been a total menace all night, flashing you that flirty smile, keeping you from your work with his corny pick-up lines that he insists will get him a date with you one day, making conversation, and giving you extra sides of ranch without making you ring them in first like the kitchen manager does. The second you walked into the back to set your bag down after arriving, he told you your hair looked absolutely ravishing even though it's just thrown into a clip like always, making you blush like crazy. It took nearly 20 minutes to get the scarlet red tint to leave your cheeks, and though you tried your hardest to hide it, Eddie sure as hell noticed, leaving a smile on his face throughout the busy evening.

"Hey sweetheart, I've got those wings for the bar top ready for you." You hear from behind you, snapping you out of your thoughts. You smile to yourself at the nickname and put the glass you've just finished washing upside down on the drying mat. 

You turn around to an always grinning Eddie leaning his elbows on the stainless steel of the mini counter under the window to the back of house and holding the ticket in between his index and middle digits. You take the slip of paper out of his hand slowly, letting your fingers touch for a moment before stabbing it through the small metal spike to your right. Every once in a while, you like to indulge in his flirtatiousness, though it makes you nervous. Eddie's fun, he's nice, and dishing back what he gives to you every day isn't hurting anyone. "Thank you, Eddie."

"Any time, sugar." He replies, winking and turning to grab a new ticket and drop an order of potato skins in the fryer. You shake your head, smiling from ear to ear, turning to serve the hot plate to one of your regulars. 

The rest of the shift goes great. Your tips are higher than you had planned, nobody had to be thrown out for fighting, and you got to hear a wonderful rendition of "My Heart Will Go On" sang by a very intoxicated older gentleman during the karaoke session. As you clean up the bar for the night, as always, you can't stop thinking about Eddie. You think tonight might actually be the night you ask him to hang out with you outside of work, though he's invited you to go get some late night pizza before, playfully pouting when you have to decline, telling him that you're exhausted and have to go back to the bar to open the next day. You've wanted to say yes, but Eddie makes you nervous. You're feeling bold tonight though, and you're optimistic. 

Unbeknownst to you, Eddie is in the kitchen cleaning the fryers, taking out the trash, and scrubbing the floors absentmindedly, almost like he's in auto-pilot because he can't get you out of his head. He wants so badly to ask you out, but he's tried that and you don't seem interested. He realizes you probably just flirt with him for fun, a harmless workplace friendship with some winks and pet names sprinkled in, but over the past four months, he's developed a serious crush on you. 

There's just something about you that makes you so different from everyone he's ever dated or been interested in. He doesn't feel like he has to change who he is for you. There's nothing better for Eddie's ego than how easy it is to make you smile, and goddammit what a beautiful smile it is. Every time you look at him through your lashes, blushing at something stupid he's said, Eddie feels like he could lift the entire building up with one hand and not even break a sweat. He fears he's in too deep at this point, the innocent flirting leading to him finding himself thinking about you even once he's gone home for the night. 

"Hey Eddie boy, I think you missed a spot." Eddie rolls his eyes at the irritating voice coming at him from his left. Dylan is one of the most insufferable people he's ever met and of course, he has the honor of working beside him at least 3 nights out of the week. 

Eddie doesn't turn his attention to Dylan, just continues wiping down the steel counter top. "Bite me, jackass." 

"Wow, someone's sassy today, huh? What, you didn't get enough attention from your little bartender tonight?" He smarmily replies, a disgustingly annoying grin on his face. Dylan, to Eddie's dismay, has picked up on the little "situation" between you two, making a joke of it every chance he can in an attempt to piss him off. 

Eddie laughs humorlessly, throwing his rag down and turning to the bane of his existence, crossing his arms over his chest. "Dude shut the fuck up."

"Hey look man, I get it! I'm just saying it's embarrassing watching you stare at her like a fucking creep all day. She does look pretty smokin' in those jeans though, so I don't blame you. Hey maybe I'll ask her out tonight, see if I can get some tail. Think she'll give up the goods?" He's smirking while Eddie's blood is raising in temperature. He can practically feel smoke coming out of his ears hearing this sorry excuse for a man speaking about you like you're just a piece of ass and not the sweet, funny, beautiful person you are. 

"I swear to God, I'll bust your teeth in." Eddie seethes, trying to keep his cool, at least while you're in the building. You're blissfully unaware of their hatred for one another and the last thing he needs is for you to see him throwing his fist into Dylan's face for talking about you. That wouldn't be very "innocent flirtationship" of him. 

"Guys! Come on, finish cleaning and knock it off. I don't have the energy for your cat fights tonight." The kitchen manager huffs, stepping between the two of them with a severely annoyed look on his face. Wordlessly, Eddie takes one more look at Dylan, picks his rag back up, and continues his task of degreasing all of the surfaces. He wants to get it over with and be able to clock in time to catch you before you leave and walk you to your car.

Dylan, the vindictive man he is, takes the opportunity to make his way through the swinging kitchen door and into the main bar area while Eddie isn't paying attention. You look up, expecting to find Eddie standing there, but confused when it's the guy you barely speak to heading in your direction.

"Hey Y/N, you do good tonight?" He asks, leaning against the bar. You smile politely, still wrist deep in soapy water from washing the bar glasses and beer mugs. 

"Yeah, better than I expected actually. Did you need something?" You ask, not rudely, but assuming he came for something specific seeing as he's never made small talk with you before.

Dylan takes a breath and rests his elbows on the hard wood of the bar top, shaking his head like he's trying to think of how to tell you what he sauntered up to you for. You begin to dry your hands, getting a little nervous thinking that maybe the manager had sent him up here to tell you something you've done wrong. You're still relatively new and you've never gotten in trouble here before, but you can't think of anything else he would need to say to you. "Look, I know you and Munson are friends, and I see the way you look at him. You like him, and before you deny it, just listen to me." 

Your heart starts to race. Did he tell Eddie? Did Eddie say something to him? How are you going to face him when apparently other people are picking up on this? Are you this obvious? You can't take it anymore so you nod, waiting for more information as you toy with your hands. 

"You seem sweet, okay and I don't want to see someone like you hurt by someone like him. Eddie and I are cool, but this is what he does. he flirts with the new ones, takes them home, and never speaks to them again. When another newbie comes in, he starts it all over again. I just thought you should know since I'm sure you're a genuinely nice person and I'm certain Eddie is taking advantage of that." Your heart drops at his words. You feared you were being played with, but you didn't want to believe it. You fell for Eddie's charms, and now it's time to face the harsh reality that you had completely misunderstood this whole situation and made yourself look like an idiot in front of everyone. 

"Um, wow. Well thanks for telling me, I appreciate it. I'm gonna finish up here and head out. Have a good rest of your night." You say, rushing through so you don't tear up mid-sentence. Dylan nods, not saying another word but offering a sympathetic smile before turning on his heel and going back through the door he came. You pull the plug to the dish sink, gather your signed receipts to shove into the drawer, and give the glazed wood one last wipe down. You hear Eddie say your name through the window but you act like you can't hear him. 

This whole thing could have been avoided if you wouldn't have fallen for the good looks and quirks of the fuzzy-headed, wild-eyed line cook. You never should have caught feelings in the workplace; that's like rule number 001 in the service industry. Never, under any circumstances, canoodle with your co-workers. You thought maybe this was an exception but now here you are, proven wrong. 

Heading through the swinging door to the kitchen, you avoid eye contact with everyone, especially Eddie, as you walk straight to the back to gather your things. You feel humiliated and giving Eddie the satisfaction of seeing you upset is out of the question so the sooner you can get out of the building, the better. You give quiet goodbyes to the managers and make a quick escape, or you at least try to before a hand reaches out to hold your forearm. 

"Hey, wait for me. I'll walk you to your car." Eddie says softly, giving you a soft smile. You can't bear to look him in the eyes, so you gently pull away, shaking your head. 

"It's fine Eddie, thanks though." You reply, turning to finally leave. Eddie watches as you throw your bag strap onto your shoulder and hurriedly make your way to the exit. Hurt washes over him and he's more confused than when he learned what a tampon is in middle school. He furrows his brow and slumps his shoulders, going back to his final task before he can leave for the night. He doubts you're still going to be in the parking lot by the time he can get out there, but his heart is racing like he might have a shot at catching you before you leave. 

Did he say something? Did his flirting finally make you uncomfortable tonight? He racks his brain trying to come up with some sort of reason why you would be upset with him. Normally, he would suggest that maybe you're just tired but even when you're on the verge of falling asleep where you stand, you can still manage to give him a sleepy smile and a breathy laugh at another one of his terrible jokes. Maybe he took it too far. Maybe he weirded you out or gave you the wrong idea. It wouldn't be the first time he's scared someone off.

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

You continue to go to work as normal, doing your best to not entertain anything Eddie had to say. The more distance you can create between the two of you, the less likely you'll get hurt. The time for stepping away from him to protect your feelings ended long ago but now it's time to do some damage control before you get worse. You get attached to people, and unfortunately that includes the bad people too. 

You thought long and hard about whether or not you actually believed Dylan. I mean it's his first time actually talking to you and he breaks the news to you that Eddie just wanted to get into your pants? Why would he care? After going back and forth with yourself over it for your entire day off, you don't know what to think but what you do know is that if they really are friends and if Dylan actually does care, then the safe bet is to just stay away. If he's telling the truth and you ignore that to continue growing your feelings for Eddie, you're in for a world of hurt and that's just not something you can deal with right now. 

You're not mean to Eddie when you work now; you just treat him like everyone else. You say "please" and "thank you", you ring in your extra sauces when you need them, you greet him just like you greet every other cook, and you don't flirt or bat your lashes at him anymore. Eventually, he is going to ask why but until he does, you can't bring yourself to ask him about it. It's humiliating and if he does have bad intentions, he's not going to be honest about it anyway so what's the point in starting that conversation? 

Eddie is trying everything. These past few days have been hell for him and he's grasping at straws. He offers to make you fries, you tell him, "Thank you, but I'm not hungry." He tries to ask you about your day, you apologize and say you're busy. He tries to catch you before you leave at night, but you practically sprint for the door the second you're finished with your side work. 

He watches through the window as you smile at your last patron of the night, desperately wishing that smile was for him. You haven't paid him any mind in 3 days and it's driving him crazy. It might be a little better if he actually knew what he did, but he's completely clueless. The awkward interactions are eating away at Eddie, and he knows if he doesn't say something soon, he'll explode. He starts his cleaning and breaking down the line as quickly as possible in an attempt to finish before you do so you don't run away from him again like you have been. If he doesn't get this straightened out, he doesn't know what he'll do. 

Your last tab is cashed out and you begin your cleaning, causing Eddie to pick up his pace. He knows it'll take you 20 minutes max now that you and him aren't chatting throughout to slow you down. As long as nobody gets in his way, he's determined to finally be able to talk to you tonight. Not playful banter, no pick up lines, just a real conversation. The sooner he gets back into your good graces, the better. 

"Trouble in paradise?" Eddie turns to see Dylan smirking with his arms across his chest. So much for nobody getting in his way. 

Eddie laughs humorlessly and goes back to his work. "Fuck off, dude." 

"Look man I'm just saying it seems like there's a little riff between the lovebirds lately. I wonder what happened, hm?" Dylan replies, his tone condescending as ever, doing his best to get a rise out of Eddie. To his dismay, it's working. 

"You don't know shit." Eddie mumbles, wringing out a sanitizer rag, his fingers already becoming little prunes extended from his hands from the extensive cleaning. 

"I don't know about that one, Ed. We had a really riveting conversation, seriously it was interesting, and I'm sure I know a little more than you think." This stops Eddie in his tracks. He breathes hard through his nose and turns on his heel, grabbing Dylan by his shirt and shoving him against the wall. 

"What the fuck did you say to her? Huh? Are you the reason she won't fucking talk to me? What the hell is wrong with you, you jealous son of a bitch?!" Eddie shouts. The manager on duty is already trying to break the two of them up and you hear the commotion from the front, peering your head into the window to see what the hell is going on. 

"Ooh Munson is mad! I just told her exactly what you're up to, that's all." Dylan says, calm as ever, a disgusting smile on his face. "Punching me won't undo it, so go ahead." 

"Enough! I swear to god, I will kick you both out." Eddie reluctantly loosens his grip on the boy's clothing, only pulling away completely when he's certain the risk of getting fired isn't worth hitting Dylan, even though the want to is overwhelming. 

 Eddie looks to you, his heart breaking at the disappointed look on your face. He decides this ends now. He has no idea what filth and lies have been planted in your head, but he needs to fix it and fast. He gives one last scowl to the man he was just threatening, and backs up, walking out of the kitchen door. 

He approaches the bar and you freeze. You don't know what you're supposed to say or do, so you do and say nothing. He has a soft look on his face, one very different than the one he was wearing in the kitchen just a minute prior. It's almost as if his rock hard persona turns to cotton candy when he's in your presence, and if you ask Eddie, that's exactly how that works. 

"Look, I know you don't want to talk to me and I'm still not entirely sure why, but please wait for me. Please talk to me, let me figure out what the hell happened, and let me fix it." He pleads. You think it over quickly, trying to figure out of this is something you even want to get into right now. You question his motives, still confused as ever. Helpless, you nod and see the relief wash over his entire body, giving you the same feeling as when you're in the middle of a horrific thunderstorm, and in an instant, the sun comes out of the dark clouds. Whether this conversation leaves you feeling like a sunny summer day or it leads to another crack of thunder, you're unsure but you have half an hour before you find out. 

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

You sit there at the bar having finished your closing work, waiting for Eddie to finish his. Against your better judgement, you're happy to talk to him again but nothing can stop the knot in your stomach from growing tighter. All you wanted to do today was make some money, go home, cook dinner, take a bath, and watch a movie in bed but now, you're sitting here, anxiety building up in your body like a tower of mix-matched Lego pieces. 

You're taken out of your thoughts when Eddie exits the kitchen and walks toward you, not looking any less nervous than he did earlier in the evening. "Hey, sorry I took so long." 

"It's okay." You say quietly, standing up from the bar stool and pulling the strap of your backpack up onto your shoulder. "Do you want to talk outside?" 

Eddie nods, giving you a tight smile. He leads you out of the front door and around to the side of the building to the employee parking lot, not saying a word just yet. the silence is broken by the flick of your lighter, illuminating the tip of a cigarette freshly placed in your mouth, inhaling the smoke and feeling the tiniest amount of tension wash away. 

You lean against your car waiting for him to speak, still not really sure what you're supposed to say. He's the one that needed to defend himself, he's the one who wanted this conversation to happen. 

"Look, I don't know what Dylan told you but I can assure you it was a lie." He starts. He's fidgeting with his fingers, avoiding eye contact. He's lost every ounce of confidence he once had when he's on the other side of the wall passing you a basket of chicken tenders. 

"If you don't know what he said, then how would you know that?" You reply, taking another drag of your cigarette. You're hoping he's being genuine and not just defensive right off the bat, but if someone is lying about you, you'd feel defensive too. Everything is still fuzzy and figuring out this mess is like putting the pieces of a clear puzzle together.

"Because he fucking hates me. He does shit just to piss me off." Eddie shakes his head, pulling his own pack of cigarettes out of his pocket, lighting one between his lush lips. 

"Why would he hate you, Eddie? What did you do?" You don't mean to point blame at him but he had to have done something to make someone hate him to the point of making up a lie to make you ignore him for days.

"When I first started, he thought I was flirting with this girl he had a thing for, and she got a crush on me. She didn't want to hang out with him anymore and he thought I just swooped in and stole her. I didn't even like her like that but since then, he's made it his job to make my life a living hell when he's here. That includes fucking this-" Eddie gestures his hand between the both of you, "-up for me." 

"He told me you're fucking with me." You say, suddenly fixing your eyes on your sneakers. You almost shudder thinking back at the way your heart dropped to your stomach when Dylan first spoke to you. "Said you flirt with the new ones to get into their pants and then move on to the next one." 

Eddie's eyes widen, looking like he's a child being told Santa isn't real. The genuine look of shock is very convincing, and you're close to dropping every allegation from that expression alone. "Jesus Christ. Y/N, I promise that's not what's going on here." 

"How can I know that for sure? I felt like an idiot after he told me that. I was humiliated thinking I fell for some sleazy game you were playing." You're trying not to tear up. You can feel the thickness in your throat as you speak, hoping Eddie doesn't pick up on it. Six months of growing feelings for someone isn't something to fuck around about, and you might have taken this more seriously than it was intended, but when you're in that close of proximity with someone for that long, itching for the other to make a move, it's hard to not be heartbroken when something happens to it. 

"Sweetheart, I flirt with you because I like you. At first, it was just fun and I thought you were cute, but now I have a big, fat, stupid crush on you and I think about you all the time. I don't ask you to hang out with me after work so I can take you to my van and get your clothes off. I ask you to hang out with me because I like the way you make me feel." Eddie responds, making eye contact with you finally, searching your eyes for any trace of doubt. He wants you to know how serious he is. This isn't just a fling for him, much like it never was for you. You had a feeling this could turn into something special, though it goes against everything people tell you about workplace relationships. 

"And what would that feeling be?" You inquire, not breaking the contact between his chocolate pools and your own, finding a boldness in yourself that you didn't know existed. 

"You make me feel like I'm the coolest guy in the world. You laugh at my stupid jokes, you compliment me, you're interested in what I have to say.." He trails off with a fond smile on his face. There's a softness about him that balances out the roughness of his edges, endearing you even further. He reaches out to grab your soft hand with his rough one. "I really fucking like you." 

"I really like you too. I was going to ask you out the night Dylan dropped a bomb on me." You admit, rubbing your thumb over the skin of his hand. 

"That motherfucker." Eddie shakes his head, getting angry all over again at the fact that he finally had his chance and it got ruined for him in an instant. "I'm going to kick his ass." 

You pull your hand out of his and smack him lightly on the chest. "No, you can't get fired! Who will I talk to all day?"

"You've been doing just fine not talking to anyone." Eddie jokes, raising his eyebrows and bringing his cigarette to his lips, inhaling the smoke that seems to make this whole thing easier. After having a sick stomach for hours, he skipped his smoke breaks, partially leading to his angry outburst.

"Yeah and it was miserable! Do you know how much I hated having to go through my shift without hearing you call me sweetheart?" You laugh, a sound Eddie missed, even for just three days. 

He smiles down at you, dazzling as always. You missing him as much as he missed you is actively washing away his worries one by one like a salty body of water washing away a structurally questionable sandcastle. "I won't deprive you anymore." 

"I appreciate that." You grin, taking his hand back into yours. 

"Does that mean you believe me? You can ask anyone, I'm serious. I talk about you all the time. The guys make fun of me for my "heart eyes" the entire time you're here. Ask Adam, Levi, Grant, Brandon-" 

"Okay, okay." You cut off his adorable rambling. "Yes, I believe you."

Eddie breathes a sigh of relief. You can see his shoulders relax, his jaw loosen, and his posture seems straighter. "Good because I mean it. I'm sorry this was such a mess for you. Hopefully I can make up for it?"

"And how do you plan to do that, Munson?" You tease, giving him the flirty look he had been wishing to see from you again. He can't take his eyes off of the way you look at him through your thick lashes. 

He moves closer to you subtly, moving slowly so he can relish in the moment. "Can I start with that date?" 

"You sure can." You say just above a whisper. You're lost in his eyes once again, but this time, it's not just playful. There's a brand new feeling getting introduced here and it blows your mind that it was first kindled in a greasy kitchen. 

As long as Eddie is here, things are easy. You have your flirty boy back and being at work is a little easier again. With Eddie right behind you serving up winks and pet names just as often as he serves up appetizers, going home smelling like beer and deep fried cheese is worth it. 

[johnny-coxville]

I was thinking maybe for a really smutty Johnny fic. The reader asks Johnny if he wants to try something new, she’s wants to see if he’ll cum inside her as they’ve never done that, Johnny gets super excited and super into it. With some dirty praise along the way and goofy excitement from knox ?

I'm sorry it's a bit short and not exactly on promt, but I'll gladly remaster it as soon as I'm free! Hope you enjoy it. :)

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

At Last.

Johnny Knoxville x fem!reader nsfw

Time in bed with Johnny was never a bore. He always found something new to task you with. Position, praise, you name it. He made you feel good in everything he did. This time was entirely different.

You sat across from him at the wooden dinner table. A cute tablecloth laid across the table complimenting the decorations of your apartment. Johnny fiddled with the bottom of the cloth as he ate. Looking up at you every now and then to smile.

Once you were nearly finished with your plate, you paused. Taking a long gaze at him. He paused as well, his chewing put on hold. “What’s the matter?” He questioned with a mouthful of food. You grinned. “Nothing. I was just thinking about something.” You said twirling your fork around the plate.

He swallowed his food and cocked an eyebrow. “Anddd that iss?” He said with a side smile. You blushed with a small giggle. “Nothing!” You said teasing. Standing up from the table, emptying the rest of your leftover pasta into a pot. Heading to the sink to wash your dish. Johnny scooted out of his chair and followed.

He dropped his food into the pot and sat his plate on the counter. You ran the water for a moment, squirting the soap onto the sponge. Behind you, he wrapped his arms around your waist. Kissing your neck and exposed shoulders.

You leaned into his touch, scrubbing the plate in front of you. You pressed your ass out, pushing it against his crotch. “Is this what you wanted to tell me?” He said pressing himself closer. You shook your head. “Johnny.” You said softly. You purposely drew out the situation just for the thrill. “I want you to cum in me.” You said nearly silent.

His movements were still a second. “Wait… Really? He said with almost a giggle. Like a child being told they were allowed to have a puppy. “Yes, Johnny.” You said setting the cleaned plates on the drying rack and twisting the sink off.

Mere seconds passing, he spun you around. Shoving your back against the ledge of the sink. Dipping down to your face to kiss you. His hands gripping onto your waist. You kissed him back, bringing your hands up to caress your face.

You pulled back with a small. “Calm down killer. You’re hurting my back on the sink.” You said giggling. He chuckled and stepped back. Letting you adjust your back. “If I had known I would’ve worn my cute g-string!” Johnny joked.

You sneered. “I’ll pass on that one.” You said walking towards the bedroom. You could feel the excitement radiating off of him. He had been waiting for this moment for months. Johnny entered the room behind you, shutting the door. You turned towards him and backed away slowly.

Your legs hit the front of the bed. He approached, pulling the shirt off of your body. He smiled wide. A smile that was almost always plastered across his face. You reached out and pulled off his own. Revealing his toned chest. He backed away a couple feet.

“Let’s not waste time honey. I know exactly what I want, and went I want it. I want you. Now. Get those clothes off.” He said beginning to unbutton his pants. He sent shivers down your body. You did what he said, and wasted no time. Sliding down your jeans, and slipping down your underwear. Looking up, all that he was left in was his boxers.

He grabbed your waist, pulling you close to his warm body. Resting his forehead against your own. He was significantly taller than you, his head tilting down to you. He shifted his face and began to kiss you. Immediately entering your mouth with his tongue. You explored each other’s body’s like you always did.

Though the interactions were more aggressive- more- yearning. You couldn’t wait any longer. You tugged his boxers down, and he took this as an invitation to remove your shirt and bra. Both of you struggled to shimmy off your articles of clothing but now left skin to skin. The warmth of your body’s burning each other.

You two backed against the bed, hitting the edge. He smiled and gently laid you against the made sheets. Soft against your bare back. The smiles shared between you two were genuine, and full of anticipation. He inched his way on top of you finding a comfortable position.

You knew he would start out gentle, inevitably leaving you a sore mess. He clicked his tongue and grabbed a pillow from behind you. Making sure both your head and lower back was supported.

Kneeling down into you he traced his fingers around your curves. He slowly pushed himself inside. A brand new sensation you had never experienced before. Thankfully with the grown anticipation, you were unbelievably soaked. Making his entry smooth.

His mouth just barely agape as he fully entered. “Wow.” was all he could mutter. You snickered at the dorky look on his face. Though admittedly just feeling him inside of you, entirely bare, was enough to make you howl.

His arms caged around your sides as he was inches away from your face. His warm breath tickling your nose. He began to pump. A slow pace for a start, but he was never patient.

As he picked up on his pace, your eyes were locked with his. Trying your best not to change expression. Johnny pushed himself deep and hard. Grunting every now and then when he changed pace. “Does it feel good sweetie?’ He whispered, a smile still wide across his face.

You nodded your head in response, hoping for something more. Noticing your lack of expression, he pulled out of you. He took your left breast into his mouth, and your right was graced with his twiddling fingers. Switching breasts he sucked and licked you in contentment.

He pulled away from you, standing up. He grabbed at his aching cock, and gave it a pump. Biting down on his lip as he admired your body.

He reached a hand out for you to grab, not saying anything. Giving a confused look you took his help and stood off the bed. He let go of your hand and stepped away from the foot of the bed. “You’re really going to feel it now. Get on that bed and arch for Johnny.” He said stepping over to you, giving you a firm smack.

You couldn’t help but giggle, and by that point, Johnny completely lost his composure. Letting out a hardy laugh. “I can’t take this so seriously! But god you’re fucking sexy.” He said rubbing his hands together in a silly manner.

You rolled your eyes and made your way back onto the bed. You got down on your hands and knees and arched your back as far as it would give. Pressing your face into the pillow. “Thatt’s it.” He said pressing his knee’s into the bed.

As you felt the weight shift, the anticipation that was long growing in you was ready to burst. He grabbed at your waist and shifted you until you were lined up with him. He was a lot larger than you, making for easy access to his favorite parts of you. He pressed inside of you rubbing your sides.

Though this time he wasn’t going to be gentle, nor slow. He slammed in and out. Scraping his nails along your figure. Pressing his head against your side. He rocked your body into him as he kept his pace. You screamed in pleasure, soaking the pillow you rested your face on.

For the first time you had heard Johnny moaning and howling almost as loud as you. “I’ve been waiting for this moment for so fucking long.” He said grasping for your hanging breasts. Squeezing one with one hand, using the other to press bruises into your side.

"I've never felt you so soaked. You really wanted this huh? I bet you've wanted to feel my bare dick sooo fucking bad." He said with a strained laugh.

You grunted in response. Finding it hard to hang onto your breath. "I'm going to make sure you're fucking dripping with my cum baby." He said squeezing you harder.

Neither of you lasted very long. Screaming each other's names, almost drowning out the wet sounds of you both. As he nearly came to his edge, he bit into your shoulder. Making you cry out in painful pleasure.

“I’m going to fucking cum..” He grunted, pressing himself as deep as he could. As he hit your sweet spot, you thrashed in pleasure. Needing to be held still as you screamed. You could feel his hot cum filling you, a strong pressure making you feel even more full.

He didn’t stop until you were overfull. Pulling out you leaked cum. Your ass was covered in handprints, and your pussy was swollen. Though it was the most satisfaction you had ever felt. “I’m so glad I had been saving that. If I had any idea you were planning this I would’ve made it much more special.” Johnny said heading into the closet for a towel. “Rammed you harder than any bull that’s ever rammed me.” Johnny giggled. You sighed with a laugh. Relaxing your back, and laying on your stomach. Your body throbbed, but god. It was so worth it.

☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆☆

[xe-n4]

hard times

feat. bachira & rin note: i felt like it (re-upload), unedited contains: fem!reader, lack of mental wellness total: 1,440

—BACHIRA

You haven’t been feeling the best for a while. Your self-esteem plummeted, and you doubted yourself more and more. No matter how much you tried, those negative thoughts always got the best of you. 

There were days when you couldn’t get out of bed and days when even the thought of eating made you sick. 

It grew worse and spiralled into the depths of your mind, silently begging for help. 

Over time, you became more reserved, taking every chance to isolate yourself. Well, that would have happened if you weren’t in a relationship with Bachira. 

He caught on quickly that you weren’t in the best shape, so he figured that he’d give you some space and you’d eventually reach out when you were ready. 

That didn’t happen. 

So, he took things into his own hands. 

“Knock knock,” Bachira called out as he stepped into your home. 

The silence that came after was enough of a sign of how you felt at the moment. He shoved off his shoes and wandered the halls with a small white plastic bag in hand. 

Bachira took his time to take in the familiar surroundings. Messy. Clothes were strewn everywhere, and dirty dishes covered the coffee table. He sighed, rubbing his face. 

“It’s a lot worse than I thought,” he whispered as he made his way to your room. Bachira knocked on the door loud enough that the neighbours could hear. “Rise and shine.” He forcefully cast the door open to see you curled up in bed, scrolling through your phone. 

“Bug?” You didn’t respond. “Did you not hear my wonderful entrance, or should I do it again?” 

You shifted your attention from your phone to your partner. “Go away,” you grumbled, sounding hoarse as if you hadn’t spoken in a while. 

“Nope,” He said, emphasising the ‘p’ to get his point across. Bachira set down the white bag and grabbed the blanket covering you. “Unfortunately, you,” he started to pull and so did you, “will have to exist while I’m here,” he grunted. 

Your game of tug of war saw him dragging you closer to the edge of the bed. “Shit! You’re stronger than I remember,” Bachira groaned as his muscles flexed. 

“Leave me alone, Meguru!” You tried to shout but your throat was too sore to do so. 

Bachira had finally gotten the blanket away from you. However, you ended up with half of your body on the floor. He rolled up the blanket and set it aside before crouching down to your level. 

“Y/n, I care about you a lot. That’s why I’m here.” He tried his best to caress your face even though you were upside down. “You may not want anyone to see you right now, I totally get that. But I can’t let you rot in this room. Okay?” 

His amber eyes gazed at yours with such adoration your neck and eyes began to burn. Somehow, Bachira always set your heart alight, making you fall for him again and turning you into the infatuated fool you were at the start of the relationship. 

“Y/n,” he started with a soft tone, “it’s okay if you’re not ready to talk about it yet.” His gentle hand rested on your cheek while he moved so close to you that you could feel his light breathing on your skin. “I’ll wait until you are, okay?” 

You couldn’t say anything, instead, his words brought tears to your eyes that threatened to spill out. He chuckled silently at your response, cooing at your expression while you cried out everything you’d been holding on to. 

Afterwards, Bachira helped you to your feet and led you to the bathroom to get cleaned up. In the meantime, he tried his best to straighten out your living space. Putting dirty clothes in the wash and taking dishes to the dishwasher (that he had no idea how to use). Once all of that was done, he brought out the contents of the white bag: pasta ingredients. 

The air was filled with such an enticing aroma that you floated towards it after your shower. It led you to Bachira, who had all his attention on the pot in front of him. Bachira was so captivated that he jumped when you came up behind him and whined, “Meguru, I wanna wear your shirt.” 

He turned away from the pot to kiss your forehead before quickly turning back, “Sorry, I didn’t bring a spare.” 

“I don’t mind wearing it.” 

Bachira knew that he should have expected a cheeky response from you. He also should’ve known that there was no way he’d win this. And that’s exactly how it went. He took off his shirt and you grabbed it quickly to snuggle up in it. 

“Thank you,” you whispered when you wrapped your arms around his waist. Bachira rolled his eyes and scoffed affectionately at your clinginess. 

“Whatever makes you happy.”

—RIN

You don’t know why it happened, but all your insecurities started hitting you one after the other. Never letting you rest and wrecking your confidence. 

It felt like you couldn’t face the world anymore, that you’d disappoint everyone who was rooting for you and wishing for your success. 

Rin didn’t notice the change at first, being too engrossed with his blossoming career to do so. 

“Rin, I said I don’t want to go and that’s final,” you said with such hostility, walking away from him. 

“Y/n don’t do this now,” he replied while following you, exhausted from arguing. “It’s just a dinner with the rest of the team. Come on and get dressed.” 

“No.” You stood your ground and turned back to face him. You couldn’t go out. Not like this. “Rin just go without me. It’s like you need me there anyways.” 

Rin sighed for the hundredth time this evening. He rubbed his temples, racking his brain and trying to figure out what he did to upset you. “Y/n, look,” he took your hands in his. “I want you there, I want you by my side. I don’t know what I did wrong but I’m sorry. Please just get dressed, we need to leave soon. Okay?” 

His attempt at pleading with you didn’t work, it only reminded you why you couldn’t go. Going to dinner with his team would only bring your insecurities under scrutiny for the world to see. He might realise that you’re not good enough and leave you, damaging your heart. You couldn’t. You weren’t ready. 

You pulled away and pushed past him to get to the bedroom. The moment you were alone, you finally let the tears fall. They ran down your cheeks with every negative thought that kept you up at night. Deep down, you knew that it was ridiculous to feel this way, Rin loves you. However, that didn’t stop the tiny voice in your saying otherwise. 

Rin stood in the corridor with his black slacks on and white dress shirt half-buttoned, confused at what just happened. He hadn’t even put on his tie yet. He wanted to follow you, but it was like his feet were glued to the floor. He wouldn’t even know what to say to you. 

After a few minutes, your cries softened until they stopped completely, leaving your throat raw, eyes puffy and overall feeling numb. You lay in bed for a while, staring into the nothingness that stared right back. The darkness of the room was comforting, you were able to hide from your insecurities, even for a little while. 

While you gathered yourself, Rin didn’t disturb you, he knew better than to do that. Instead, he called the manager and told him that he wouldn’t be able to make it and took a few hours to himself afterwards. He cleaned up a bit, organising the cushions and washing the dishes, whilst sifting through the various conversations you’d shared over the last few days. Still, he couldn’t put his finger on the problem. 

Eventually, you gained the strength to face the music, leaving the room wearing an oversized sweater and shorts. Rin had spread himself on the sofa, still in his formal attire and asleep. 

You sighed; a weight lifted off your chest. You didn’t think you were prepared to admit to your boyfriend that you were insecure. Rather you retrieved a blanket from the cupboard and covered both yourself and Rin with it. 

As you started to get comfortable and snuggle into him, he sluggishly opened his eyes and yawned. Rin mumbled, “Come ‘ere.” He opened his arms wider to fit you in and gave you a tight embrace. “We’ll talk later,” Rin said, finding himself drifting off again. 

m.list | like & reblog

[vbecker10]

Hey, this is my first time requesting anything so… sorry if I’m a bit awkward lmao ANYWAYSSSS I was wondering if you could pls make a loki x autistic reader one shot where they’re washing the dishes or doing any job that they have to do and they’re overstimulated and starting to have a meltdown but trying to mask it because they want to get the job that was assigned for them done cause they don’t want the others to think they’re faking a meltdown to get out of it and Loki notices and yeah… please, if that’s not too much trouble, and thank you :)

@lokixryss thank you so much for this ask! Sorry it took so long for me to get to it. I really hope you like it 💚

_______________________________________

It's Too Loud

Pairing: Loki x gender neutral reader / Loki x autistic reader

Warning: overstimulated, feelings of panic / being overwhelmed

Summary: You're the newest member of the team and you get picked to clean up the kitchen after Wanda and Vision made dinner for everyone. The rest of the team settles into the various sections of the common area and leave you to clean. A little while into your chore, you start to feel overwhelmed by all the noises around you. You try to hide how you are feeling and finish your task as quickly as possible but Loki notices your discomfort and tries to help you manage your feelings.

A/N: I really want to thank @ace-of-gay @michelleleewise and @soubi001 for taking a look at this before I posted it! You guys are amazing and I really appreciate your insight into this 💚💚

_______________________________________

"That was amazing as usual, Wanda," Steve says as he wipes his face with his napkin.

"I agree! You're cooking rivals the great feasts on Asgard," Thor says in a booming voice.

Everyone at the table echos Thor and Steve's praises of Wanda's skills in the kitchen and she replies, "Thank you! Viz helped." She takes his hand and squeezes it lightly.

"By not touching anything I assume?" Tony jokes and everyone laughs as he continues to make more comments about Vision's lack of experience in the kitchen. Once they all settle down Tony puts his hand on your shoulder, "All right new kid, you're on clean up duty."

You nod quickly, excited to help. Although you aren't an Avenger, they had all gone out of their way to make you feel welcome your first week. Your job is to take care of things behind the scenes. Scheduling meetings, running small errands, helping with paperwork, pretty much anything that keeps things running smoothly. Cleaning wasn't one of your duties but you had seen how they all took turns cooking and clearing up when not on missions so you were more then willing to do your part.

They all thank Wanda again and get up, making their way to their usual after dinner spots. Thor, Steve, Bucky and Sam head to the back corner of the room to play cards. Wanda and Vision settle into the two seats at the end of the bar while Natasha opens a bottle of wine. Bruce and Tony sit opposite each other with a chessboard between them. Loki wanders over to the bookshelves and spends a few moments examining each title before making a decision. He takes three books, setting two of them on the end table before making himself comfortable on the couch and opening the third book. Peter is the only one who leaves the common area, most likely going back to his room so he can finish his homework.

You stand at the island and watch all of them with a smile for a few moments before getting back to the task at hand. Wanda did make a delicious meal but there was a downside, she used what seemed like every pot, pan and bowl in the shared kitchen. You sigh to yourself before going back into the dining area to collect the rest of the plates, utensils and cups.

At first, you enjoy the sounds of everyone around you having fun but slowly you begin to feel a shift and you know it's not good. Your heart rate begins to quicken gradually and it is harder for you to keep your breathing even. You find yourself desperately wishing you had brought your headphones with you as a distraction. They were useful for when you were feeling overwhelmed by too much sound and they helped you focus by drowning out everything around you. You groan quietly and hope you can finish up before you start to feel worse.

Your smile fades as the boisterous laughing from the card game becomes a noisy three sided argument. Steve and Bucky want to play Texas Hold'em but Sam is complaining that they play it too often and that he never wins. Thor insists they try an Asgardian game but the other three decline adamantly, not wanting to learn something new.

Natasha and Wanda are almost through their first bottle of wine and are giggling like crazy at some phrase Vision used incorrectly. He is trying to get their attention to understand what was so funny about what he said but the two women are far too hysterical to answer him.

The louder the common area becomes, the faster you try to work and the harder it is to focus. All you want to do is finish so you can go somewhere quiet and calm yourself down. You rinse off the dishes and fill the dishwasher so quickly you almost chip two plates. Closing the door on the full appliance, you cringe at the noise it makes when you turn it on. The hum is constant and just loud enough to feel as if it is echoing in your mind.

You try to shift your attention to the stack of dirty items that remain in the sink, the ones that either can't go in the dishwasher or simply don't fit. You pick up one of the glasses and start to hand wash it under the warm water, trying to focus on the sound from the faucet and not the noises all around you. It works for a few moments and you can feel your breathing slowing back to normal.

The ear-splitting sound of Tony's deep laugh makes you look up from the dishes in the sink and you nearly drop the glass. He starts poking fun of Bruce for making an ill-advised move in their game and declares himself the winner. Bruce counters, telling Tony he isn't giving up quiet yet.

Without even realizing it, you put one hand over your ear and tilt your head to the side to try and cover you other ear with your raised shoulder. You freeze in that position, unable to clean any longer but also unable to push through how deafening the space had become. Everyone's voices blend together and your desire to leave becomes overwhelming.

Suddenly Thor slams his fists down on the card table and let's out a thunderous laugh. You put your hands over both your ears and find yourself sitting on the ground with your knees up to your chest and your back against the cabinet. You rock gently back and forth, keeping your eyes shut as you try to block out the sound.

A moment or two later, you feel a light tap on your shoulder and jump. "I'm sorry, I didn't mean to scare you," Loki says calmly as he sits cross legged on the floor in front to you. He points to your hands which are still covering both of your ears, "Are you alright?"

You take your hands down slowly and can't help but cringe as the loud noises begin to fill your head again. You want to tell him you are fine but before you can answer, Steve and Bucky both yell something at Thor and you close your eyes tight as your hands cover your ears again.

In an instant all the noise in the room stops completely and you take a deep breath in relief. You open your eyes slowly to see Loki has moved slightly closer to you and he was sitting on his knees now, leaning towards you. His hands are on either side of your head, a few inches from your own hands. A green glow spreads from his fingertips and you realize he is using his magic to block the sound for you. You lower your hands and your eyes but when you look up Loki is still looking at you and not in the way you had expected.

He was always polite but mostly he didn't speak to you or anyone else on the team, not even his brother. You worried the God of Mischief would look at you like you were just some poor, weak human but he wasn't. His eyes were full of concern and worry, not judgment or pity or any of the usual reactions you got from people when you were feeling overstimulated and anxious.

He doesn't move his hands, keeping the noise barrier in place for you. In a hushed voice he asks, "Do you need to leave? I can take you somewhere quiet."

You nod and he lowers one hand, touching your shoulder lightly. He surrounds the two of you with a green flash and before you can blink you are sitting on one of the couches in rear of the library. You look over and see him sitting next to you.

"Is this better?" he asks, still keeping his voice low.

You nod again but don't say anything. You take a few deep breaths and let the silence of the library calm you. Wrapping your arms tightly around yourself, you subconsciously sway back and forth gently on the couch.

After a few minutes Loki asks, "Was that a panic attack?"

You instantly begin to fidget with your fingers and look away from him. "No, it's something else but I guess they can be a little similar sometimes," you answer vaguely and he looks confused.

You realize Autism most likely isn't something Asgardians have to deal with and you had plenty of experiences at your past job where people treated you differently because of it. They made fun of the way you self-soothed and didn't believe you when you told them the noise in the office was hurting you. You bite your lip, trying to decide what you should tell Loki, if anything. You didn't want to be treated differently here but Loki had seen you meltdown, had the others seen it too?

"It's ok," he says during your long pause. "We don't have to talk about it if you don't want to. We can just sit here quietly, whatever will make you feel better, Y/N."

You nod and cross your arms around yourself again. "Thank you," you tell him and he smiles warmly at you.

"You're welcome Y/N. I just want to to know I'm here if and when you want to talk," he says sincerely.

You smile back at him knowing he really means that. No one where you used to work ever talked to you like this, they never worried if you were ok or tried to help calm you down.

You look down at your foot which is tapping a familiar rhythm and decide to risk it. Consciously, you stop the movements of your foot and sit back on the couch. You can feel him shifting closer to you but you don't look up, sometimes talking was easier for you if you weren't looking at the other person.

You take another deep breath and tell Loki you have Autism and as expected, he asks you what that is. You give him the short version, only telling him about the signs or traits that you have. You then tell him about what happened in the kitchen, how the sounds were overwhelming and caused you to feel anxious and unable to focus. You also tell him about your previous job and that you are worried everyone here will single you out or think you can't do your job correctly if they find out.

He nods occasionally, listening carefully as you talk, asking questions here and there. When you finish he says, "Thank you for telling me, I'm sure that wasn't easy. I wish I had known about your sensitivity to sound earlier, I would have tried to help you sooner."

You then notice him fidgeting with his fingers and he says, "I know what it's like to hide parts of yourself and act as if things are ok when they are not. I've been doing that most of my life it would seem."

You sit quietly for a moment, unsure if he wants to talk about it more or not and you get your answer when he changes the subject. "Y/N, no one here would ever judge you for this, you know that I hope. But until you are ready to tell the rest of the team, you can come to me when you need help or want to talk," he tells you.

"Thank you Loki, I really appreciate that," you respond.

"I don't want you to feel uncomfortable or overwhelmed here," he says. "I know several spells which are good for dampening or eliminating sound entirely. I actually have one spell that will even render Thor completely mute if that helps," he says with a smile.

You laugh a little and say, "I'm honestly surprised you don't use that one all the time."

He shrugs, "Maybe we should try it out tomorrow."

_______________________________________

@michelleleewise @ace-of-gay @high-functioning-lokipath @poetic-fiasco @soubi001 @lokisninerealms @lulubelle814 @lovingchoices14 @justasecretwriter @theaudacitytowrite @klaushargreeves420 @coffeeorsomething-irl @lokisgoodgirl @xorpsbane @avoliax @talesofadragon @lokiandbuckysdoll @animnerd @juulle987 @lokiprompts @javagirl328 @kats72 @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @mochie85 @princess-asgard @holdmytesseract @lokixryss @peaches1958

Let me know if you want to be taken off or added to this list! 💚

[daydream-cement]

Hello! You might be busy so its ok to put this idea off for a while :)

but can i request a Larissa x f!reader? Making a fluffy meal together with larissa after a long day of work, and r had to question other people what food she likes, but then larissa hears abt this and requested a specific meal/food in mind (they can also bake if Larissa prefers sweets). Love ur fics as always :)

- 💗

Chocolate, Anything, Chocolate

Larissa Weems x Teacher!Reader

You sat in the teachers lounge with your colleagues. They had the opportunity to work with Larissa Weems much longer than you, so you decided to ask them about Larissa’s favorite foods. You wanted to surprise her with something and you had no clue where to start.

“I want to make Larissa dinner or something. What’s her favorite food?”

It was like the room spoke at once. Every teacher knew there was only one correct answer to that question, “Chocolate, anything, chocolate.”

After getting the answers you desired, you made your way back to your office to spend the rest of your break looking up various recipes, trying to find the perfect one for Larissa.

“Is y/n in here?” Larissa peaked into the teacher’s lounge, hoping to find you there.

“Just missed ‘em. They were just in here asking about your favorite foods. I have no clue what they are up to.” The response from the literature teacher made Larissa smile. She decided to check your office for you next.

———

“A little birdie told me, you were asking about my favorite foods.” Larissa perched herself of the edge of your desk while you closed out of your most recent tab of chocolate cake recipes. You shift uncomfortably, wondering who was the person who decided to expose your plan. Larissa continued speaking, “If you want to make me something, I absolutely love a simple dark chocolate cake.”

You eyes light up at the suggestion, happy to know that you wouldn’t have to painstakingly search for a recipe you would hope she would like. The search for a recipe would be much easier now.

———

Saturday morning you awoke bright and early so you could work on Larissa’s cake. You slipped from her arms and went to the kitchen in your pajamas. The recipe you found looked perfect for Larissa.

You enjoyed some music as you worked, playing it quietly as to not wake Larissa. You were still in the measuring phase when Larissa’s arms wrapped around you. You could tell she was sleepy by the way she gently rocked back and forth while she held you.

“Good morning.” You respond to her touch in a chipper voice. Larissa remained unamused by the earliness of the morning.

“Come back to bed…” She whispered, pressing a kiss to your temple.

You contemplated adjuring to the bedroom with her, but you had been so exited about making something for her, you shook your head no, “I can’t right now, Riss, but maybe when everything is cooling later we can watch a movie.”

Larissa closed her eyes in annoyance, but she quickly shook the feeling, knowing that you were trying to do something nice for her. She gave you a final squeeze and went to the living room where she took up a new resting place where you could see her.

She must have taken a short nap because thirty minutes later she entered the kitchen looking more bright eyes and awake. By this time, you had the cake batter finished, in the pan, and baking at 350 degrees Fahrenheit.

Larissa began making herself a pot of coffee as you began washing dishes from the cake making process. You wanted everything clean before you began working on making the frosting. While her coffee brewed, she retrieved her laptop to answer emails.

Together you did your separate activities in silence, enjoying the bit of domestic bliss you created for yourselves.

A few hours later, around lunchtime, your cake was finally complete. There was a bit of a delay when you had to shoo Larissa out of the kitchen after she asked to lick the spatula and then kept coming back for more frosting. You smiled wildly as you placed the cake at the middle of the kitchen table, ready for her to see what you created.

Larissa hit ‘save as draft’ on her current email and shut her laptop, her jaw dropping as she looked from the cake to you and back down at the cake again, “Sweetheart, this looks incredible! Thank you so much! Can I try some? We can do dessert-lunch.”

You smile at the idea. You grabbed plates and she got the forks and knife to cut the cake. Together you sat back down side-by-side, ready to try your creation. Larissa served you both a piece, but wasted no time sampling her slice.

Her eyes widened with joy and pleasure in what you created. You were mid chew when she lifted herself from her seat and placed a chocolatey kiss on your lips. When she sat back down, you sat smiling to yourself as you watched her continue to enjoy her slice.

“Oh, this is wonderful. You know, I love chocolate, anything, chocolate.”

You smile to yourself, knowing that her love of chocolate would allow you the opportunity to make her many sweet treats for the future to come.

[bultaoreunheyyy]

Part 3

the sickfic without a title

part 1 | part 2 | part 3 - word count: 5,020

“Jungkookie finally made it out of the bathroom. He’s in bed and almost asleep again,” Jimin announces as he walks into the kitchen. He’s holding disinfectant spray and a pair of rubber gloves, and he sets them next to the sink before bringing his sleeve up to his face just in time to catch a sudden sneeze. “I just cleaned the hallway bathroom, and I disinfected all the doorknobs I could find.”

“Bless you!” Hoseok says. He wraps himself around Jimin’s back and kisses the side of his neck. “Thank you for doing all that.” 

“Sandwiches are almost done!” Taehyung announces from where he’s standing next to the fridge. He and Yoongi are making a late lunch. “Everyone sit and we’ll bring the food to the table.” 

“Thank you,” Namjoon moans. “I’m so hungry. You’re both amazing.”

Taehyung beams, and then glances nervously at Seokjin who may or may not be sulking the tiniest bit at not having caught a single fish that morning. 

Seokjin, however, just joins everyone at the table with a small smile on his face, the sadness from not being able to provide lunch replaced by his growing hunger. He sits down next to Hoseok, who’s resting his head on the table, half-asleep despite how loud the kitchen is, and his smile morphs into a worried frown as he reaches over to lightly scratch at Hoseok’s scalp with his fingertips. 

“You need a nap,” he says softly to Hoseok, his smile returning when Hoseok hums happily at the touch, leaning into it in a way that reminds Seokjin of a puppy.

“I think we should all try to get more sleep than we’ve been getting,” he says a little louder, turning to the others as they settle in their chairs. “We can sleep in pairs, take shifts for naps during the day.”

Taehyung is the last to sit, serving everyone a sandwich first before taking two from himself and setting the remainder on a platter in the center of the table. He sits and watches Seokjin rub his fingers through Hoseok’s hair, head tilted to one side as he eats.

“I think that sounds fair,” Jimin says, then twists to the side with a sneeze. “Ugh. The smell of that disinfectant is going to be permanently stuck in my nose,” he complains with a sniffle. 

“Here,” Seokjin says, handing Jimin a napkin. “You and Namjoon can go first, okay?”

Jimin blows his nose and then shakes his head.

“Hoseokie should go first,” he says. “He’s falling asleep at the table.”

“Not asleep,” Hoseok mumbles, finally pushing himself upright so he can eat. “Besides, I’m having coffee with lunch, so someone else should go first. I wanna stay awake long enough to go out fishing again with Jinnie after we eat.” 

“Jimin and Joon will go first,” Seokjin repeats, and they all nod in agreement.

The rest of lunch goes by quickly, and then Jimin is clearing dishes from the table while Hoseok, energy renewed thanks to his iced coffee, starts washing them in the sink. He ushers Jimin away when he tries to help dry them, waving him and Namjoon out of the kitchen.

“Sleep well,” Seokjin tells them.

Jimin smiles at him, then follows Namjoon out of the kitchen, both of them looking slightly guilty but also relieved.

“I know Joon is gonna set an alarm,” Seokjin says as soon as they’re gone. “I’ll turn it off once he falls asleep. We’ll let them sleep until they both wake up, and then the next pair can go. That will be Taehyung and Yoongi, okay?”

Taehyung, Yoongi and Hoseok all nod in agreement.

“I’ll start a load of laundry,” Taehyung says, pushing himself up from the table with a yawn. 

“I’m gonna finish the dishes.” Hoseok says from his spot at the sink. “Then I’ll take an inventory of what groceries we need when I’m done.” 

“I can make a run to the store while you and Seokjin go out on the lake,” Yoongi offers, joining Hoseok at the sink to help him dry the dishes. “Text me if you end up catching any fish and we’ll plan dinner around that.” 

Seokjin is about to say something in response when they hear a gagging sound from down the hallway, and he holds up a hand to stop Yoongi and Hoseok from following before he turns and hurries toward Jungkook’s bedroom.

“Jungkookie?”

He gets to Jungkook’s room just in time to see Jungkook drop to his knees on the floor, halfway between his bed and the door, tears streaming down his face and one hand clamped over his mouth. Rushing to his side, Seokjin gathers Jungkook in his arms, peering over the top of his head to see what kind of mess they’re working with; Jungkook, as if sensing exactly what Seokjin is doing, aims a broken sob into his chest and shakes his head back and forth.

“I didn’t throw up,” he gets out between shaky, gasping inhales. “I just thought I was going to and…I don’t know what happened.” He breaks off into another helpless sob and leans back a few inches to angrily swipe the tears from his face with the sleeve of his hoodie. “I got dizzy.” 

“Okay, sweetheart, it’s okay,” Seokjin soothes, both relief and worry swirling in his chest. “Do you want me to help you to the bathroom, just in case?”

His question only makes Jungkook cry harder, and he sags back against Seokjin’s chest. 

“Don’t know what’s wrong with me,” Jungkook whispers after a moment, voice raspy. “Thought I was feeling better.” 

Hoseok appears in the doorway then, knocking softly on the frame. “Hey,” he says. “What’s wrong? What do you need?”

“Help me get him back into bed?” Seokjin asks, standing, and the two of them help Jungkook off the floor. 

They settle him on the edge of the bed, sitting on either side of him, Hoseok rubbing his back comfortingly while Seokjin smooths his hair back from his face and tucks some of it behind his ears. 

“Maybe we can put a trash can next to your bed,” Seokjin suggests. “So you don’t have to keep getting out of bed. I don’t know why we didn’t think of that before.” 

Hoseok jumps up, leaving the room to return a few minutes later with a lined trashcan that he sets next to Jungkook’s nightstand. 

Jungkook’s crying has subsided to an occasional sniffle, tear tracks streaking down his face until Seokjin wipes them away with gentle swipes of his thumb. Jungkook closes his eyes and buries his face in Seokjin’s shoulder before he can dry them completely, sighing heavily.

“Sorry.”

“What was that?” Seokjin cups the side of Jungkook’s face he can reach. “I didn’t hear you?”

“I said I’m sorry,” Jungkook mumbles, just as quietly, voice muffled into Seokjin’s shirt.

“What? Hoseokie, did you hear something?”

“Nope,” Hoseok teases along. “Didn’t hear a thing.”

Jungkook lifts his head, then, and glares at them both.

“Just let me feel bad for needing so much help!” He huffs out, nose scrunched in frustration. 

“Mm, nope!” Hoseok replies cheerfully, leaning forward to nuzzle his nose against Jungkook’s affectionately.

Seokjin feels Jungkook shiver against him, and he pulls the comforter back with one hand. “Why don’t you get some more rest for now?” He stands and waits for Jungkook to crawl under the covers, checking that he has fresh water on the nightstand and that the trash can is within reach. 

“If you need anything– anything– please call one of us,” Hoseok says.

“Do you want us to stay until you fall asleep?” Seokjin asks, and Jungkook nods sleepily. 

“Will you…will you just talk for a little bit first? Tell me about your plans for this afternoon? I don’t even know what day of the week it is.” 

“It’s Thursday,” Seokjin laughs. “Hoseokie is gonna come out fishing with me. He and Namjoon already joined me this morning, but we didn’t catch a single thing,” he laments.

Jungkook yawns, then blinks tiredly up at both of them for a moment, eyelids drooping. “It’s because you didn’t have your hat,” he finally says. 

“My what?”

“You fishing hat,” Jungkook clarifies, like it’s the most obvious thing in the world. His eyes are closed now, but he gestures vaguely in the direction of the desk that’s under the window and Seokjin looks to where he’s pointing. There, sitting on the desk, is Seokjin’s hat he always wears when he goes fishing fishing.

“You can’t catch fish without it,” Jungkook whispers, his voice fading quickly as he starts to fall asleep.

Hoseok chuckles quietly. “It is your good luck charm,” he says, fetching the hat from the desk for Seokjin. “Can’t believe we didn’t notice you were missing it this morning.”  

“I can’t believe you’re both implying I’m not a skilled fisherman if I’m not wearing my hat!” Seokjin protests, but he still tugs the hat onto his head anyway, grinning. 

“Look cute in your fishing hat,” Jungkook mumbles, barely audible.

Seokjin’s cheeks turn pink. “Your eyes are closed, you’re not even looking at me!”

“Can see it in…in my head…”

“Okay, sweetheart,” Seokjin laughs. “Sleep, already.”

“Rest well, love,” Hoseok tells Jungkook. He tucks the blanket around Jungkook and kisses him on the cheek. 

“Get better so you can join us fishing soon,” Seokjin whispers, pressing a kiss to Jungkook’s forehead before he and Hoseok leave.

*

 

“I just want to sleep.”

The words come out raspy and so small, so sad. Jungkook hates that he sounds so desperate but honestly, at this point, they’re all desperate and there’s no use hiding it. 

“We know, sweetheart. Sleep,” Jimin urges softly, his hand never stilling where it’s rubbing wide, soothing circles on Jungkook’s back. 

Jimin’s touch makes Jungkook feel both warm and cold at the same time, heat from the friction warming his aching muscles while also making him miserably aware of the chills that are shaking the rest of his body, relentless and prickling along his skin. He shivers hard and Jimin adds his other hand, sliding his palm up and down Jungkook’s upper arm as he hums in concern. 

Jungkook hates this. Hates that he’s feeling so much worse again, after the false promise of feeling slightly better earlier. Hates that his boyfriends look so exhausted, so worried. 

So sad. 

There’s a moment of quiet, and for that moment they all let themselves hope that maybe Jungkook might actually fall asleep. Jungkook doesn’t have to open his heavy eyelids to know that Namjoon is clenching his jaw, his body tense as he tries to stay still and stay quiet. Jimin’s hands never stop, but he’s holding his breath. Yoongi and Taehyung are in the doorway, fingers loosely interlocked, matching dark circles under their eyes as they look at their youngest partner in concern. Seokjin and Hoseok are in the other room, catching up on some much needed sleep, and Jungkook thinks about them tucked into bed together, cozy and resting well, and he longs to get some rest too.

“I can’t,” Jungkook whimpers hoarsely, breaking the silence too soon, and the tiny sound of his pitiful crying that follows has them all rushing to his side. “I’m trying, but I can’t.”

Fuck, he hates how sad they all sound as they comb their fingers through his hair and press kisses to his too-hot forehead and tell him it’s okay.

It’s not okay.

“I’m sorry,” he tries to get out, but he’s silenced with more kisses to his face, even as hot tears spill down his heated cheeks and drip onto his sweat-soaked pillowcase. Even his eyes feel hot, and his ears, and his throat, and oh fuck–

“Shit,” Yoongi hisses, lightning-fast as he grabs the trash can from the floor next to the bed and gets it up to Jungkook’s face just in time for the first dry heave. 

Jungkook can barely hold himself upright and so he’s mostly lying on his side as he gags over the trash can, his stomach attempting to empty itself. There’s nothing left for him to throw up at this point, which makes it even more painful– that, paired with the raw throat and the fever and the sore abdominal muscles is enough to have him sobbing hard again despite the voices begging him to calm down and take a breath.

“Please,” comes Taehyung’s desperate plea. “Breathe, baby. Breathe.”

Jungkook gags again, throws up a pathetically small amount of bile, and then slumps back down on the bed with one of his arms trapped underneath him and the other wrapped loosely around his stomach. He can’t stop crying, but he’s stopped vomiting for now, and he feels someone wiping his nose with a tissue followed by a warm wet cloth wiping at his chin and chapped lips. 

“There you go,” Jimin whispers, nearly breathless, in his ear. “There you go, sweetheart. Deep breaths, good job. You’re doing so good, Kookie.” 

Jungkook’s not doing good at all, and he’s not sure why he’s getting praised for anything right now, but Jimin’s voice is soothing and he’s suddenly aware again of the hand rubbing circles on his back, slowing nearly to a stop as Jungkook’s sobs die down.

“Don’t stop,” he manages to croak out, and thank fuck Jimin understands what he’s asking and resumes the steady, circular motion.

There’s a hand combing through his hair, and he cracks one eye open to see Yoongi’s face in front of him.

“You don’t have to wipe my nose for me,” Jungkook murmurs, face flushing when he spots the balled-up tissue still in Yoongi’s fist. He sniffles, cringing as he thinks about all of the ungodly things that have come out of his nose in the past few days, and then yawns while Yoongi just watches him with a small smile that doesn't quite reach his eyes.

Fuck, he’s so tired.

Jungkook feels like he hasn’t slept at all for four days straight and it’s scarily close to the truth. Every time he’s just about to drift off, he’s jolting awake to rush to the bathroom or lean over the trash can so he can throw up, or curling in on himself because his stomach is in knots, or shivering uncontrollably because he’s burning up with fever. On top of everything, he’s starting to feel so guilty for how much of a burden his illness is becoming on his other partners– something they’ve been denying, but Jungkook can see in their exhaustion and their worry– that it’s making him feel so, so much sicker. 

The guilt is compounded by the fact that they’re at the lakehouse because they’re supposed to be on vacation, and he had gotten sick with the stomach flu on the very first day of said vacation, and he’s been too weak and exhausted to even leave his bed most of the time– which means his partners have been spending their entire vacation so far helping him do every little thing that he can’t do by himself. 

“Sleepy?” Yoongi asks hopefully when Jungkook yawns a second time. 

Instead of answering, Jungkook sniffles and closes his eyes again. Yoongi sighs and slides his palm across Jungkook’s forehead. The cool touch feels heavenly on his overrated skin. 

“I can wipe your nose again,” Yoongi says, and it’s more of a statement than an offer, but he gives Jungkook a moment to either accept or deny. Jungkook hates the feeling of the slightly runny nose he has after throwing up, so even though it’s a bit embarrassing he nods and scrunches up his nose a little, waiting for the tissue.  

“I have to pee,” Jimin says as Yoongi very gently dabs at Jungkook’s nostrils, apologetically patting Jungkook on the hip. “I’m sorry– I’ll be right back.” 

He gets out of the bed and Taehyung takes his place, climbing in behind Jungkook.

“Oh,” he hears Taehyung mutter to himself, and then there’s a patting sound and Jungkook can tell he’s feeling the sheets, realizing how grossly sweaty they are. 

“Sorry,” Jungkook tries to say, but his voice is so wrecked from all of the vomiting that it doesn’t come out and no one hears it. He clears his throat a few times, shame rising up to join the lingering uncomfortable nausea. For a moment, he’s worried he’ll throw up again, but then Taehyung’s arms are wrapping around him, his hands settling on his chest to rub small circles, and Jungkook closes his eyes and sinks into his embrace.

When Jimin returns, he’s holding a cup of water with a straw in it. 

“Can you try to take a few sips?” He asks Jungkook, taking Yoongi’s place by his head and holding out the water.

Jungkook pushes himself up onto one elbow, which feels nearly impossible, and then reaches out a hand for the water, but the second his fingers wrap around the cup his arm starts to tremble and his grip falters. He’s grateful that Jimin is still holding the cup so it doesn’t spill everywhere.

He keeps his eyes open as he takes one, two, three tiny sips of water, so he sees Jimin exchange a look with Taehyung over Jungkook’s shoulder, and then a look with Namjoon. When Jungkook lets the straw fall from his lips, Jimin clears his throat and reaches out a hand to cup Jungkook’s cheek. 

“We gotta change the sheets, ‘kay?”

Jungkook bites back a groan and nods. Changing the sheets means he has to move. It means he has to get out from under the blankets and he’s already so fucking cold, and even though the sheets are all sweaty again and he desperately needs a change of pajamas, getting out of bed and being temporarily colder seems so much worse at the moment.

“We’ll make it quick,” Taehyung promises, fingers combing through Jungkook’s sweaty hair. “You can go sleep with Seokjin and Hoseok for a bit, hm?”

As he talks, Taehyung gently pulls Jungkook up into a sitting position, letting him lean back against his chest so Yoongi and Namjoon can help him strip out of his clothes and into new ones. Jungkook shivers the whole time, even with the warmth of Taehyung against his back, his teeth chattering audibly as Namjoon tugs a clean hoodie over his head and then kneels to put a pair of warm socks on his feet.

‘C’mere,” Namjoon says when he’s done, scooping Jungkook up off the bed like he weighs nothing– and maybe that’s a little closer to the truth today than it had been a week ago, before he got this stupid fucking stomach bug.

He feels like he’s nothing.

Namjoon carries him into the other room and deposits him on the bed between Seokjin and Hoseok, and the two of them hardly wake as he settles under the comforter, both of them curling sleepily around Jungkook while he shivers and blinks back the sudden tears that form in his eyes. 

“Baby,” Namjoon coos sympathetically, reaching over Hoseok to thumb away a tear that Jungkook hadn’t even felt escape. He watches Jungkook shiver. “Don’t cry. I’ll go get you the heating pad, okay?”

Jungkook falls asleep less than five minutes after Namjoon tucks the heating pad under the covers with him, the warmth seeping into his body through his aching stomach and spreading quickly along with the heat of his fever, and he dreams that he’s out on the lake on a boat that’s too tiny, and when he looks down at the water it’s bubbling up everywhere, boiling hot, steam rising and so thick he can’t see the shore.

When he wakes up, he’s completely drenched in sweat and Hoseok and Seokjin are gone. 

He blinks up at the ceiling and tries to shake the strange dream and the awful, exhausted haze that he seems to be stuck in constantly since getting sick. Someone shifts nearby and he turns his head just enough to see that Jimin is sitting on the edge of the bed, arranging a tray on the nightstand.

“Oh,” Jimin says when Jungkook yawns loudly, looking over in surprise. “You’re awake.” 

“How long was I asleep for?” Jungkook asks, voice crackling, barely there. He knows it was a long time by the way his throat is so dry and his tongue feels too big and his eyes are scratchy and his limbs are stiff, even though it wasn’t a restful sleep in the slightest and he somehow feels more tired than before. 

“Seven hours,” Jiimin replies. “I tried to wake you up a couple of times but you were a bit cranky with me.” The corners of his mouth are turned up just slightly, and Jungkook ducks his head against his chest sheepishly as he imagines what he might have said to elicit that response. 

Jimin laughs softly and reaches out to run his fingers through Jungkook’s hair, fondness in his gaze. “I don’t suppose you’re feeling hungry?” He asks, holding up a single cracker from the tray.

Jungkook shakes his head, because he’s achy as fuck and he has zero appetite even though he hasn’t truly eaten in days, but he reaches a shaky hand out to accept the cracker anyway.

As Jungkook pretends to nibble on the cracker, Jimin suddenly raises a hand to his face, cupping it over his mouth and nose. Then, he sneezes, his head bobbing forward in a tiny motion to match the tiny sound of his sneeze. He blinks rapidly after, looking surprised and a little dazed, hand still cupped over the lower half of his face.  

Jungkook is grateful for the distraction. He sneakily sets the half-eaten cracker on the nightstand and pulls a tissue out of the box to hand to Jimin, smiling at how cute his partner is. 

“Are you smiling?” Jimin asks, mouth falling open as he drops his hand from his face to accept the tissue.

“Cute,” Jungkook croaks in explanation, his smile growing when Jimin brings the tissue to his nose only to sneeze right into it, just as sudden and unexpected and cute as the first time.

There’s a flush across Jimin’s cheeks that matches the underside of his nose after he scrubs at it for a few seconds with the tissue. 

“I’m not cute,” he protests, and then immediately sneezes again afterward, the sound cut off halfway through as he attempts to stifle it into silence. He blinks a few times, wiggles his nose, and then gives a sharp sniff, seemingly recovering from his apparently itchy nose. 

He fixes his gaze back on Jungkook and narrows his eyes. “You need to eat that cracker. A few crackers, preferably. Do you want some tea? Water?” 

Jungkook rolls onto his side, biting back a groan and pulling the comforter up higher so it’s tucked under his chin. 

“Want ice water,” He murmurs around a yawn, a shiver running through him. “And I’ll finish one cracker.” 

It almost makes Jungkook smile to see the expression that crosses Jimin’s face, one of mixed confusion and exasperation, and he seems to start to say something twice before he sighs loudly and drags a hand over his face.

“Ice water?” Jimin sighs again. “Okay.”

Jungkook hums, pleased.

“With a straw?”

“Yes, please,” Jungkook whispers hoarsely. He closes his eyes and listens to Jimin stand, and something rustles near his head– the crackers, he guesses. He hears Jimin say something about sitting up to eat, but he’s already drifting off, his body pulling him towards a place of unconsciousness so quickly that he’s asleep before Jimin returns with his requested tumbler of ice water. 

*

On a normal day, Jungkook hates to be still for very long. 

It’s afternoon, and Seokjin is sitting on the edge of the tub, watching Jungkook. Watching him lie in the bath, eyes closed, completely unmoving. It’s unsettling to see him so still, so quiet. Seokjin doesn’t like it one bit.

“Does the water feel okay?” He asks quietly. 

Jungkook breathes in slowly through his mouth, and then seems to hold it for a moment, and Seokjin feels the urge to hold his breath along with him, matching the stillness, the tense silence. 

“Hmm?” Jungkook’s eyelashes flutter. His gaze belatedly slides over to Seokin, his eyelids heavy. “Oh, yeah. It’s warm. Thank you.” 

He doesn’t say anything else for the rest of the bath.

When he’s done, Jungkook sits still while Seokjin drains the tub and helps him stand. 

He’s still when Seokjin towels him dry. While he sits on the closed toilet seat and lets Seokjin help him into a fresh, warm pair of pajamas. While Seokjin spends ten minutes drying his hair with the hair dryer, using a brush to comb through until it’s fluffy and dry, even though on a normal day Jungkook would fuss at him for how that affects his wavy hair.

Once Jungkook is back in bed, Seokjin watches him toss and turn, biting back whimpers and groans of discomfort when he realizes Seokjin is staying in the room with him, and drags a hand down his face wearily. 

“We can do another warm bath later tonight, if you want,” he offers, climbing in bed behind Jungkook and pressing himself up against Jungkook’s back, draping one arm over his waist. 

Jungkook sighs softly, a shaky exhale. He doesn’t respond verbally. 

Seokjin falls asleep with his face tucked against the fever-hot skin of the back of Jungkook’s neck.

Jungkook, unable to fall asleep, tries to be as still as possible. 

*

“What are you doing?”

Jimin jumps, startled, and slams his laptop shut with a guilty frown.

“Nothing!”

Taehyung has both hands on his hips. He narrows his eyes and slowly walks over to where Jimin is sitting on the porch swing.

“Nothing?”

“Nothing.” 

“It didn’t look like ‘nothing’,” Taehyung replies. “It looked like you were working.”

Jimin rolls his eyes and crosses his arms, not meeting Taehyung’s gaze. “Leave me alone,” he mumbles, pouting. 

“Why are you working? We’re on vacation.”

“Get the fuck off my ass, Tae,” Jimin snaps, finally meeting Taehyung’s eyes; his anger completely melts away, however, when he sees the hurt look on Taehyung’s face.

“Fuck, I’m sorry,” Jimin winces. “I didn’t mean to snap at you.” 

Taehyung plops down onto the swing next to him. 

“I know we agreed we weren’t going to work this month…” Jimin trails off with a heavy sigh. He rubs at his temples. “I just have a headache and I’ve been really tired, and…” He sighs again. “No, never mind. I shouldn’t make excuses. I’m sorry.”

“I forgive you,” Taehyung says, opening his arms wide. “Come here, love.” 

Jimin sinks into his embrace, nuzzling against his chest and wrapping his arms around Taehyung’s waist.

Suddenly, so suddenly that Jimin himself seems completely caught off guard, he sneezes right into Taehyung’s chest, all over his shirt.

“Oh, no thank you!” Taehyung grimaces, playfully shoving Jimin away from him. “I’m pretty sure even your kindergarteners know better manners than to sneeze on people like that!” 

Jimin scrubs at his nose with a fist. He glares at Taehyung, sniffling. “It was an accident!” Then, his shoulders sag. “Sorry.”

“I forgive your accidental sneeze.” 

Jimin is about to respond, but he pauses to lift a hand to his face, and Taehyung ducks away for fear of being sneezed on again. Instead, though, Jimin yawns, prompting Taehyung to stand and crouch down in front of him.

“Climb on my back,” he instructs, and Jimin does, letting Taehyung carry him inside.

In Jimin’s room, Taehyung pulls back the covers of Jimin’s neatly made bed and points. “In.”

He crawls in after Jimin, settling behind him and tossing a leg over Jimin’s lower body, spooning him from behind and keeping him firmly in place. 

It doesn’t take long for Jimin to fall asleep. As soon as he’s sleeping, soft stuffy snores fill the room, and Taehyung listens carefully to the way he’s breathing, congested and solely through his mouth. He waits a moment longer, then sneaks a hand up to Jimin’s forehead to check for a temperature– thankfully, he’s not warm– and then carefully extracts himself from where he’s wrapped around him.

Taehyung quietly makes his way out to the living room. Namjoon and Hoseok look up as he enters, both of their faces falling when they see his worried expression.

“What’s up, tiger?”

Taehyung sinks onto the couch in between them and sighs. “I was just with Jiminie and he fell asleep, and his breathing is all stuffed-up. I started thinking about earlier today– he’s been sneezing a lot, and he has a headache. I caught him working, and I initially thought he was stressed about work, but I think…I think he might be getting sick.”

“What?” Namjoon gasps. “Why would he hide that from us?”

“No,” Taehyung replies quickly. “I don’t think he’s hiding it. I don’t think he’s even realized it yet.”

“Shit,” Namjoon curses.

“Do you think it’s bad?” Hoseok asks.

Taehyung shakes his head. “No, and it’s not even what Kookie has. No stomach problems, and no fever. It’s just a cold, I think.”

“Shit,” Namjoon curses again. He sighs. “Still, we’ll have to keep him and Jungkook separated from now on.”

“Don’t you think it’s kind of late for that?” Taehyung asks, remembering how close they’ve all been with Jungkook and each other. “Any one of us could come down with what Jungkook has, or now with what Jimin has.”  

Namjoon sighs. “Okay, true. I’ll go into town and pick up cold medicine,” Namjoon says. “I was gonna get popsicles for Jungkookie anyway.”

“Do you want me to drive?” asks Hoseok.

“Nah, I was thinking I’d ride my bike.”

“Okay, I’ll ride with you.”

“I’ll stay here and hold down the fort,” Taehyung offers, and immediately Namjoon and Hoseok are chuckling.

“What, you don’t want to come with?”

“Maybe you can learn how to ride a bike this summer, Tae!”

Hoseok grins. “It’s nice and flat, not too many places to fall over!’ 

Taehyung waves them off, ignoring the teasing remarks. “Have fun in town!” 

part 4

[twjournals]

Forbidden Fruit |||

Warning: dark!criminal!Bucky Barnes x dark!cop!Steve Rogers x fem!reader, eventual non-con/dub-con, possessive/obsessive behavior, jealousy, gun violence, violence in general

Summary: After some time away, the town's golden boy is back to reclaim his title and his girl. Unfortunately for him, trouble has followed him home.

Word Count: 2.7k

series masterlist

Since you had come in late, you figured it was only fair to make up for the hours missed by helping close the diner. It was quiet compared to how business roared during the day, and sometimes you preferred it to your morning shifts just to get away from the usual. That wasn't to say you didn't like your regulars, but certain people did put a damper on things.

You had just checked out the last of your customers for the night. The young couple shuffled out of the booth, leaving behind a few bucks for a tip before heading out the door. "Thank you, guys. Come back and see us." They threw their hand up on their way out.

You moved around the counter to their table, tucking the few bucks away with the rest of your tips and cleaning up the mess. Nat took the opportunity to lock the door and turn off the glowing open sign before anyone else tried to walk in.

It was always good feeling locking up because you knew you didn't have to serve anymore customers.

You raked off the dishes with a fork into the floor before taking the back to the kitchen for Pietro to wash with the rest of the dishes.

"Good news. This is it." You assured. He thanked you kindly before taking the last of the dishes. You returned to the table afterwards.

You often wondered how Wanda and Pietro made it through their shifts without bickering. Especially for as long as you had known them, but you guessed being on two separate ends of the building helped too.

"Freedommmm." Nat threw her arms up, earning a laugh from you and Wanda.

She smiled in response before plopping down in the booth with Wanda to help her fold up some silverware. You wiped down the table and seats while listening to them create small talk.

You glanced out the window at the dark street. Home wasn't far from the diner, but considering it was dark, it only had the walk seem longer. Even having known the people in the town as long as you had, you were fond of the idea of walking home in night.

"No, Nat. Seriously you should have seen him, I don't know what came over him. I've never seen Steve like that." Wanda attempted to talk quietly even though you could still her. Maybe in a busy restaurant she might have went unheard.

You peaked over the booth you were cleaning at them. By the way Wanda leaned closer against the table, you could tell she was trying to keep you from hearing.

"So he just broke the glass out of nowhere? No one knows what set him off?" Nat muttered.

God, they were awful at whispering.

"If you ask me, I think Steve saw her with that new guy." Wanda stopped folding, nearly leaning over the table.

"You mean the one with the long hair? Wears the gloves?"

"That's the one." Wanda confirmed.

You rolled your eyes and finished wiping down the booth before you stood up. "You realize I can hear everything you're saying?" You pointed out.

Nat's eyes widen at your words and Wanda stumbled over her own. "Hey- I wasn't saying anything bad. I just know anything to do with him is a sore subject."

You walked around the counter again to wash your hands in the sink. You glanced at her as you dried your hands. "I don't care who you talk about. I can handle hearing about my ex." You assured. It was the truth, for the most part.

You moved over to the register, opening it to count down your drawer. You sat the till on the counter and shuffled through the money, counting in your head.

Nat spoke up from her seat. "I can't be the only one who thinks he's been a little different since that new guy came around."

"Oh no, I thought so too." Wanda admitted.

I paused counting. "Bucky?"

They both look at each other smirking slightly.

You rolled your eyes when you noticed. "You guys are awful." You mutter and shook your head. What number were you even on again? Oh, right. And you start back where you left off.

"I mean does it not seem that way to you?"

You sighed. You were never gonna get this done. "He's a customer. I haven't even been out with the guy. He gave me one ride to work, and that was only because I was on the side of the road."

"I offered to send the guys." Wanda reminded you.

"I would rather die."

They both burst out in laughter and you laughed a little yourself. Maybe it was a bit dramatic, but you were partly serious. You didn't want to give your ex the satisfaction of saving the day after he was to blame for many previous ruined ones. Like he was some hero or something.

"But seriously, I would rather walk than have to be in the same vehicle as him. I don't need his help." You admitted.

"Fair enough." Nat nodded while she proceeded to fold up some silverware. "Bucky is so cute though. I envy you. I'm gonna need to pop my own tire on the way to work and see if the hunk comes to my rescue."

Wanda laughed and you rolled your eyes. "Hey, now. Wait for a shift with Y/n before you do that. Ya know, just in case he doesn't come."

"Or do you think I should get under the hood? I'm just trying to figure out the best approach."

You set the cash aside, throwing a rag at Wanda and making them both laugh harder. "Seriously the worst."

--

"You sure it's not a problem? I can walk if it is. It's not big deal." You asked as you, Wanda, Nat, and Pietro exit the diner. You stopped for a moment to lock the door.

"You know it's not a problem." She assured. Nat and Pietro said their goodbyes before parting ways to their own cars, leaving you and Wanda on your own.

"I have tomorrow off, so I should have my car back then. Hopefully it won't cost me an arm and a leg." You said as you walked with her the rest of the way to her car.

"It's not a problem. You know I'd give you a ride any day." She looked over the roof of her car at you and unlocking the car.

You smile while reaching for the door, pausing when you hear a car pulling in over your shoulder.

"Is it not obvious we're closed?" You commented, glancing over at Wanda who stared behind you before giving you a look. You knew that look. It was one you had been all too familiar with lately and you sighed. You heard the car door open and shut behind you before you turned to confirm your suspicions.

"Wanda." Steve greeted Wanda with a smile before his eyes finally fell on you. This was currently new for him. He was stepping up his game from keeping an eye on you at the diner to stalking you out in the parking lot.

He didn't greet you though; only stared until you shifted awkwardly under his gaze. What could he want at this time of night? You were just trying to get home.

"Wanda," Steve finally broke the silence. "Do you mind if I talk to Y/n alone for a moment?"

He glanced at her over the roof and she looked at you for an answer. You gave a small nod before Wanda climbed into the car.

Steve didn't say anything, but you could tell he was searching for the words to say. You leaned back against the side of the car with your eyes on the pavement as you listened to the crickets.

"If I asked you a favor, would you listen?" He finally said.

You pulled your eyes to meet his. They were already staring at you, but you were almost positive they had been this whole time.

"What?"

"If asked you to do something for me, well for yourself really, would you listen to me?" He tried again.

You stare at him for a moment, watching him moving to lean beside you. So close if it wasn't for the inch between you, your arms would've been touching. "I'm sure I can guess what this is about."

"I wouldn't be saying this if I didn't think it was serious."

"I'm sure."

He didn't have to say anything for you to know where this conversation was going.

He shot you a look. "I just don't get a good feeling about this, Y/n. I can tell you guys are getting close, and if I'm being honest I don't think Bucky is a good person."

You knew that was coming, but who was he to tell you who you could befriend? "Do you know him?"

"No."

Because that makes perfect sense, right? "Have you talked to him before?"

"No." He answered again.

Your patience was starting to run thin already. Steve was the same guy who proposed to you, only to realize after some time this small town life would never be enough for him. Now here he was asking you to stay away from a man you hardly had anything to do with aside from serving him.

"I don't understand you." You shook your head in disbelief. "This is my job, Steve. He's a customer and I can't stop him from coming here just because you're unhappy. And here you are telling me about this feeling you have toward him, but you can't tell me a thing about him that makes him a bad person. Can you tell me how that makes sense?"

You moved off of the side of the car to face him.

He opened his mouth slightly, trying to figure out what to say. "I can't explain it. I really just need you to trust me." He looked down.

You stared at him in disbelief. "No."

His eyes shot up.

"I'm not going to just trust you, because I remember where that got me."

"I don't know how many times I can say I'm sorry. All I've done is apologize since I've been back. All I'm asking is this one simple thing. Just stay away from him. If all you do is serve him, I don't see why it would be so hard for someone else to take his table." Steve pushed off of the car, standing just a step away.

"So because he's new to town, that means he's dangerous? Oh Heavens, why is anyone serving him then?" You gasped dramatically, putting your hand on your chest.

He ran his finger through his dark blonde hair, pushing it off of his forehead in frustration, pacing slightly in front of you. "I am trying to protect you."

"I can take care of myself. I don't need you to protect me, Steve." You argued back. He had some nerve asking anything from you after everything he had put you through. You finally rolled your eyes, pushing past him to the car. Fuck him and fuck whatever he was feeling.

You paused when you opened the door. "You know what that feeling is, Steve? That's a realization. Not some bad vibe, it's the realization that Bucky is probably better than you'll ever be."

His jaw ticked in anger, watching you starting to get in the car. "I'm just doing my job."

You held onto the door, turning to look at him. "You want to do your job, go patrol and stop stalking me."

He wished he could explain how wrong you were. He wished he would tell you that the real reality of things was nowhere near your bullshit assumption. Bucky was dangerous, and he still is.

Steve stood in the parking lot even after Wanda was driving away.

Why did you always have to be so damn stubborn? He stared after the car until the lights disappeared over the hill.

His thoughts were interrupted by slow clapping and his hand shot up to rest on his gun, staring in the direction the sound was coming from until a shadow slowly moved from the dark.

"I've gotta say, you put on one hell of a show." Bucky chuckled while he lifted his hands for Steve to see them.

"What are you doing here?" Steve demanded, his hand slowly curling around the gun on his side.

"Moving on. Is that not what we agreed on?" Bucky responded innocently. " But ya know it doesn't look like you're doing much of that." He pointed out while he stepped one foot in front of the other.

Steve pulled his gun from the holster, pointing it right at Bucky but his smirk never lessened.

"Oh come on, Rogers. Is that any way to greet your partner?"

"Oh sorry. Go to hell. Is that better." He spat.

Bucky threw his head back with an amused laugh. " Funny, I thought I was already there. I mean the way you trash talked this town, I expected worse honestly. But I see why you came back." Steve narrowed his eyes. "The whole uniform, the fancy squad car, even a gun. This town must really take kindly to criminals." He gestures toward Steve.

He clenched his jaw. Just pull the trigger. He told himself. It would solve everyone's problems.

"Oh..." Bucky started to bring his hand to his mouth, acting surprised. "They don't know, do they?" He tilted his head.

Steve took the gun off of safety so Bucky knew he wasn't playing around. Nor was he going to feed into his bullshit. He stepped closer to Bucky, pointing the gun right at his head. At this point, he didn't care who saw if anyone did.

"Go on." Bucky encouraged. "Pull the trigger. We both know you can. Let's just hope you have the plan this time. This is a pretty public place, Steve. I mean between someone seeing, all the blood you're going to have to clean up, an explanation for my disappearance. How about my body, Stevie? How do you plan on getting rid of my body?"

Steve was gritting his teeth so hard he was amazed they weren't broken.

Just do it. Fuck! Just fucking do it.

No, he's right. You'll never get away with this. Not here.

"Do it!" Bucky raised his voice. He wished he could, but he couldn't. Like he wasn't already regretting every mistake he ever made after Y/n, but he was really regretting ever befriending Bucky. If he had been on his own, it wouldn't have took long for him to come back home. Everything would have fallen back into place and Y/n would have eventually forgive him for ever leaving. Steve slowly released the gun, putting it down. "Pussy."

He knew it would be in his best interest to keep his hands to himself regardless of how hard he wanted to punch Bucky, just to knock the fucking smile off of his face. And maybe if he was lucky break a couple of teeth. He slowly put his gun back in the holster.

"She makes you soft." Bucky realized. Steve lifted his head to look at Bucky. "That's her, isn't it? That girl you always talked about?"

"Bucky." He warned. "If you touch her, I- I swear to God-"

Bucky shrugged his shoulders. "We've shared before. What's the difference?"

Steve couldn't stop himself from grabbing Bucky by the collar of his jacket, bringing him nose to nose with him. "Stay away from her."

The corner of his lips turned up in a smirk.

"I'm so fucking serious. Don't lay a hand on her. This wasn't apart of the deal."

"Oh, fuck the deal, Rogers. You left me in the dirt while you alpha it up here playing the town's hero. If you think for a second they would have gave you that badge knowing you're a fucking murderer. If it wasn't for me, none of this would be possible for you. Don't you see that? That golden boy reputation gets you everything. But it doesn't get you her." Steve's fists were clenched around his collar, the corner of his lip twitching in anger.

"Bucky-"

"Shut the fuck up." He growled before shoving Steve off of him hard and causing Steve to stumble over his feet a little before regaining his balance. Steve felt defeated. All he wanted to do was get his life together and move on, but Bucky just had to follow him home. "Do yourself a favor and stay out of my way."

tag: @cynic-spirit @naniky @mrsbarnesx @mansaaay @caramelcandescence@candy3002 @onlyjamesbarnes @quethekillerqueen @siriusjohnpotter @empath-bunny @cjand10 @burnoutbo @galacticyearning @lou-la-lou @kvzctam @jevans2

[rabbitholessk]

Big Little Things

“Tadaima.”

The familiar word that holds so much weight. Not said enough in his life, but when he is given the chance to say it, it is like a prayer. One he wishes to repeat over and over again for as long as this world will allow him.

Sasuke has risked his life before, a few times. He is aware of the limitations his human body can take. He also knows the risks of the ninja lifestyle. With all this knowledge he revels in the moments he gets with his home.

Home had never been a specific place, rather the people that provided the feeling behind the word. At one point that had been his father, mother and dear older brother. Now the warm feeling of home belongs to his wife and daughter.

From the moment he walks through the threshold from outside to inside, the atmosphere changes.

When Sakura and he had been on their journey over a decade ago, that threshold changed daily from inn rooms, to caves, to sleeping under the stars, with the moon serving as their guide.

Each time they would settle into a space the air would buzz differently. It starts as calm, and shifts into a warmth that spreads throughout his travel weary body. The capacity to feel safe, secure, and loved has that effect on a person. Much like waves washing onto warm sand, being with his family washes peace over his psyche.

—-

“Okaeri!” He hears his wife and daughter shout out separately rushing over to the front door of their shared apartment.

Sasuke unbuttons his dark cloak and begins shedding it, Sakura reaching for it instinctively. He hands it to her and dons his house slippers. No matter how long he is away or if he shows up unannounced, they are always sitting by the door with the rest of his family’s, waiting for him.

“I’m making dinner, any special requests?” Sakura asks, tying her apron around her hips.

“Papa, can you help me with shuriken after my mission tomorrow?” Sarada pleads with eager eyes.

“Anything, and of course.” Both the women in his life provide him with a smile so unique and familiar to each of their features. Sarada studies what looks like a new mission summons quietly beside him on the couch as he reads over a scroll. Sakura is heard shifting around the kitchen, the searing sound of vegetables and meat being cooked on the stovetop is grounding. The familiar smell of spices and foods he enjoys are being made in the kitchen only feet away.

Once dinner is plated, served and thanked for, Sakura walks over to her seat across from him. On the way from the kitchen to her chair she passes his form touching his shoulder softly, lingering her slender hand briefly. Glances and touches between them always had a hidden meaning. I missed you.

Once his wife is seated across from him and Sarada has started talking about her day, and Sakura providing information of her own he sends his wife a warm glance, I missed you too. Sakura blushes prettily, their daughter failing to notice, too busy eating her meal.

“Thanks Mama, it was really tasty!” Sarada excuses herself from the table and cleans her dishes in the sink.

Sasuke and Sakura remain at the table.

“I’ll wash the dishes.” He offers. He enjoys the task. It makes him feel like he is part of the everyday routine, even if he is not able to be here everyday.

“Oh! Then I’ll dry.” Sakura brings over the bulk of the dishes, Sasuke getting to work filling the sink with soap and water.

They stand close together in a comfortable quiet. He can feel the warmth radiating off of her body with her this near. The sounds of dishes being soaked and water running over porcelain fills the kitchen.

“Sarada was right. Dinner was good.”

“Really? I have to go to the market tomorrow and get some fresh tomatoes. They are finally in season!”

“If you leave a list of what you need I can shop tomorrow.”

“Actually I have tomorrow off. Would you like to go together?”

Sasuke nods, handing her a wet dish. He observes her hands, cracked and scarred from countless surgeries, battles won and lost and what feels like a lifetime of healing. Sakura’s hands were one of the symbols of her hard work and resolve.

He hands her the final dish, and rinses the sink of suds.

“Go lie down. I’m going to finish tidying then I’ll prepare a bath.” Sakura says while removing her apron.

While Sakura tidies and folds laundry Sasuke chooses to check on their daughter. He knocks on her bedroom door. The door opens and reveals a well lived room. Far different than his own room at twelve years old, filled with pictures of her friends as well as pictures of the three of them. A part of him aches at the sight of most of the pictures from Sarada’s childhood with just Sakura beside her. He wishes he could have watched her grow during those formative years. The realistic part of him is thankful that it was Sakura beside her and that she has a beacon of light and strength like Sakura as her mother.

Sarada looks at him within her doorway, then walks back over to her bed with laid out clothes, scrolls, and weapons.

“Mission tomorrow?”

“Yeah! Do you think this is enough shuriken?” Sasuke enters fully and they discuss mission supplies for a half hour. While talking with his daughter he is able to appreciate her features and mannerisms, so very reminiscent of his mother while also very much Sakura. Sarada provides him a smile, stretches and tells him she needs to rest.

“Good night Sarada.”

“Night Papa.” He turns the light off in her room and shuts the door.

Sasuke walks down the hall to his shared bedroom with Sakura, the sound of a bath running can be heard from behind the closed bathroom door. Sakura emerges from the bathroom after the faucet is turned off.

“You take a bath first Anata.”

No matter how many times his wife calls him Anata, it still sends the same pang to his heart. He takes solace in the familiarity between Sakura and himself.

“Join me?” Her face colors slightly and a smirk grows on his own. They shed their clothes and sit in the bath together. Sakura sits behind him, she knows he has a hard time washing his back by himself on the road. She has done this since they first became intimate all those years ago.

Her masterful touch is gentle but firm as she washes along his spine, her healing touch mending sore muscles and small scratches collected on his travels.

His head falls forward, the ends of his fringe touching the surface of the water, and his eyes shut, relishing in the feeling.

Without saying anything she provides a light massage on his left shoulder, a historically tender area for him since the loss of his arm.

Once she is done they switch positions so she can sit between his legs. Her pink locks tied up into a small ponytail. He wraps his arm around her center soaking in the warmth she provides him emotionally and physically.

Thank you is whispered into her shoulder and a light kiss pressed.

—

Sleep has never come easy to him, not since he was a child still under his parents roof. Sleep had been a battleground since the loss of his family, his clan, his brother, and for a time himself.

But with Sakura beside him, her hand resting above his heart and a leg tossed over one of his thighs, sleep comes to him effortlessly.

He still wakes often in the night no matter where he is, but with Sakura by his side he is able to fall back asleep without too much resistance. If there is a challenge he watches the rise and fall of her chest, the way her hair splays on the pillow, or counts the light freckles on her shoulders until his lids become too heavy to keep open.

In the early morning he feels her stirring and they indulge in each other’s bodies. A familiar dance and one he never tires of. They have to remain quiet with their daughter asleep down the hall.

Sated and breath regulating the couple revel in the other's bodies, she feels along the hard planes of his abdomen and the veins in his arm.

His eyes shut letting her touch him, secretly enjoying the way she takes inventory on his body whenever he comes home.

“You’re cute when you’re satiated.”

He makes a face from her brazen compliment. Feeling her giggle beside him, he pinches her thigh that is within reach.

“I thought you had said once that I was always cute?”

“You are! But especially in these moments!” She continues to giggle lightly, running her fingers through his thick dark locks, and massaging his scalp.

Sarada is heard down the hall preparing for her mission. The couple wake properly and get ready for their day together.

Sarada says her goodbyes and the pair head out to the market. They separate to get different items at separate stalls. Sasuke picks out the vegetables, taking extra time at the tomato stand. When they meet up again Sakura has gathered the meat and a bouquet of flowers.

“I would’ve had these yesterday but you surprised us!”

He can’t recall the first time she had gotten him flowers after coming home from a mission but every time since then there are always flowers waiting on the kitchen table for him. He enjoys the feeling of being loved, of coming home to a family who knows and loves him for who he is.

He revels in the small things that feel larger to him than to any normal person. The feeling of having people know you inside and out. Know your likes and dislikes. Know your heart and trust in your abilities.

Sasuke and Sakura walk home, bags in hand through the Konoha streets. Sakura talks about this and that and he watches and listens to her, a light smile adorning his face. His home had never been a place but rather the feeling of giving and receiving love from his most important people.

[imamotherfuckingstar-lord]

my girls

eddie munson x reader

summary: eddie shows you he can be a responsible parent.

a/n: will be a continuous series about eddie and reader's journey as new parents. every one shot is connected but doesn't need to be read in any order. 💗domesticated fluff. eddie is a sweetheart💗 my girls series masterlist

The afternoon sun was blaring down on the Munsons’ trailer, it made the mobile home look decent under the sun rays. Holstering the weekend bag on your shoulder, you stepped up the little front porch steps and knocked on the door. It took all but two seconds for the door to be thrusted open and to be greeted by a smiling Eddie. He was without his leather jacket or jean vest, opting for a more comfortable Metallica tee shirt and light blue jeans; he was barefoot and practically dragged you into the trailer, closing he door behind him. He took the bag off your shoulders and kissed you promptly on the lips, resting his free hand on your belly; you were about six months now and very much showing. He had been elated by the pregnancy, but you had your doubts. The two of you were twenty-one-, Eddie had just graduated high school last year and had been a known drug dealer around town – not one to judge, but his prospects of being able to provide were looking low.

“Thanks for coming,” he grinned and waved out a hand before him, urging you to look at the living room. Adjusting your eyes to the dimly lit room, you were shocked to see the usually messing space cleaned and tidy. You looked over to Eddie for an explanation and he shrugged. “Can’t have a kid getting into shit, I’ve been keeping it clean for a week now – Wayne loves it.”

“It looks good,” you admitted, edging towards the kitchen; he followed like a little puppy, bouncing on the tip of his toes as you touched the small kitchen counter. No random stuff piled on the counter tops or loads of dishes in the sink, that you know poor Wayne washed each night after his shift. There was no sign of half empty beer cans anywhere and when you opened the cabinet, there was food – plenty of food for more than two people. Closing the cabinet slowly, you turned to Eddie.

“You did really good, Eds.”

The praised tone of your voice had him melting and he reached a hand to your arm, tugging you carefully to him. Never one to resist his touch, obviously, you allowed him to press several kisses up your neck, chin, cheek, and then mouth. His arms wrapped around your waist, stomach pressed lightly against your own and when the baby kicked, Eddie reeled with delight.  His limber fingers dragged across the fabric of the maternity dress you bought last week; it was just a simple dark blue wrap around dress that allowed room for growth.

“Let me show you my room,” he murmured in-between kisses and you nodded, allowing him to lead by hand to the back of the trailer. He mentioned the other entrance and how he cleared it up. “That way we can get in and out without waking Wayne up in the mornings. I moved all the crap we had on the porch blocking it to the shed….”

“Practical,” you agreed, and he looked over his shoulder to smile at you before dramatically swinging open the door to his bedroom. He moved aside and bowed, asking you to step inside his humble abode. Laughing, you patted him on the head and walked into the once messy and kind of smelly room – there still was a lingering smell of cigarettes but he had the window wide open and a fan next to it.

“The smell is slowly going away, won’t be around once the kid is born….”

“Mhmm,” your eyes scanned the entire living corridors and noticed how free of things the floor was; it also looked like it had been washed and vacuumed – you didn’t even know the Munsons’ owned a vacuum. His walls were still littered with posters and other art, but that never bothered you – the room never bothered you. Frankly, you could have lived in the room with Eddie forever, but what you wanted no longer took precedence. The well being of your child was what mattered now, and it was good to see Eddie finally taking things a little more seriously – his usual aloof natural had been fun but with a child on the way, it had been nerve-wracking. Eyeing the rest of the room, you noticed how everything had a purposeful place and then you saw Corroded Coffin’s banner still hung near where the desk used to be.

In the place of the desk was a crib.

Your eyes looked to Eddie, and he shrugged bashfully, explaining that he had been saving for it. “…had it on layaway at Sears.”

The thought of Eddie near a Sears department store made you burst into laughter and he shook his head, walking you over to the wooden crib; it looked lovely under the light coming from the window. Inside, Eddie had placed several blankets and stuff animals, including the bear he had won you last summer at the Fourth of July carnival. His ringed fingers touched the teddy bear and his eyes found yours, delicate and near tears.

“I’m not selling anymore. I got a legit job with Wayne, morning shifts,” he said, fingers reaching up to wipe away the happy tears on your face. “I can still practice on weekends, and we have a few gigs lined up. The job pays decent, and Wayne said we could stay forever, really.”

Eddie chuckled and swung his arm around your shoulder, bringing you closer to him.  “He likes the thought of a little us running around this joint – makes him feel young again.”

Enthralled with the idea that Eddie did all this for you, for his child brought the greatest smile known to mankind onto your face. “We can totally do this…”

“Oh, babes,” he cooed, turning you to face him. He grabbed a hold of your face and leaned in to kiss you, soft and wanting – fingers dragging down your chin, holding it in place as he promised to take care of the two of you. “My girls are going to be living the life.”

[phantomtgm]

Hey sorry if I’m annoying you but have another maverick request idea . It’s the reader’s birthday and maverick wants to spoil and celebrate with you two spending hours of having passionate love making as maverick ain’t letting you leave the bed or lift a finger since it’s their birthday. Your probably busy so It can easily wait until your free x

Here it finally is!! :) I'm sorry it took so long to get out, I sort of had a bit of writer's block so I hope you like it!

Birthday Surprise

“Maverick!” I playfully scolded as he took my empty plate away from me. “You do know that I am perfectly capable of washing and putting away my own dishes.” I raised a brow and the look Maverick sent me was one that I would never forget. 

 The look that sent me head over heels for him.

“Y/n, it’s your birthday. You should know that I am not letting you lift a single finger today so suck it up.” Planting a kiss on my forehead, I felt my cheeks heat up in a blush. This man spoiled me way too much and I would be forever grateful for that.

I rested my chin on my hands as I watched him clean up and the more I stared, the desire for him began to overcome me. 

“See something you like?” A smirk appeared on his face and my heart fluttered. “Oh yes Captain.” I twisted around in my chair as Maverick walked to me, wrapping his arms around me.

Lifting me off of my chair, he walked out of the kitchen. “Where are we going Maverick?” I giggled. He pinched my ass which caused me to gasp in delight and Maverick smirked. He carried me all the way into the bathroom and turned the water to the tub on. 

My heart did flips as he set me down on the edge, his fingertips inching beneath my shirt and slowly removing the only article of clothing I had on.

I watched as his green eyes roamed over my naked body. I sucked in a breath as it felt like my body was on fire under his intense stare. It only made me want him more. 

“Get in the tub.” Maverick spoke quietly. Turning around slowly, I slid into the warm water. Lifting my hand out of the water, I beckoned Maverick and I watched as he took a painfully long time undressing himself. 

Finally he  stepped into the tub and I moved backwards, making room for the both of us. 

I lowered myself further into the water, the water lapping over my mouth and stared at Maverick. 

Man was he good looking. It was almost overwhelming. 

Several quiet moments passed as we both stared at each other. Finally, he made a come here motion with his fingers and I slowly made my way over to him. His hands gripped my waist and my mouth opened with a gasp. Maverick being Maverick took that as an opportunity to place his mouth upon mine and it didn’t take long before we were wrestling for dominance with our tongues.

Maverick suddenly pulled back, the both of us breathless as we stared into each other’s eyes. I could feel his hard member against me and I knew what Maverick wanted. I wanted it too so I shifted my body and slowly lowered myself onto him, my entire body was shaking in nerves. 

I leaned forward, wrapping my arms around Maverick’s shoulders as I grinded my hips slowly. I could feel every inch of Maverick. His fingertips gliding across my wet body, his breath against my neck and his cock inside of me. 

Maverick hissed in pleasure as I slowly rocked against him. I leaned my head back and felt his lips upon my throat, forcing me to grasp his hair as I tightened around his cock. The bathroom was covered in steam and I opened my eyes to see Maverick looking at me in the most vulnerable way. 

Grasping my hips, he moved me up and down so that I was bouncing on his cock. Pleasure rippled through me as I felt myself tighten around him, the pressure that was building was too much for me to handle and with one last thrust, my release overcame every single sense that I had. 

“Maverick.” I managed to hiss and he gripped me even harder as he came, his warmth spilling inside of me.

My chest was heaving as I embraced Maverick. He was just as breathless as I was.

Several long moments of silence passed before I spoke. 

“Well…that was one for the books!” I laughed as Maverick stared at me with a straight face.

My smile began to fade as I watched Maverick. Brows furrowing, I asked “What’s wrong Mav?”

Suddenly he scooted me closer than I ever thought possible and said “You really think that is all you’re getting today sweetheart?”

Face burning and not knowing what to say, I just smiled meekly as he stood up and walked the both of us into the kitchen, completely naked. He carefully placed me on the kitchen chair then gave a quick peck of his lips on mine. 

“Close your eyes.”

“Maverick….” I narrowed my eyes, suddenly worried but at the same time I was excited for what he was about to do next. 

“Come on darlin…close your eyes.” He gave me a pointed look which tugged on my heartstrings so I did what he said. 

Listening intently, Maverick shuffled around the kitchen, opening up the fridge, slamming cabinet doors then finally he wrapped his hands around my waist. 

“Open your eyes.” 

My heart was beating rapidly as I slowly opened my eyes to see the most perfect cake that anyone could have ever possibly made. 

Tears began to fill my eyes as I glanced at Maverick who had a smug smile on his face. “I I don’t know what to say. Mav…”  I twisted in my seat and looked him straight in the eye as I thanked him. 

His eyes searched my own and suddenly, an overwhelming feeling came over me as I pounced on Maverick, desperately kissing him in a hot fervor.

Our lips smacked together in a fury and my back slammed up against the counter top as Maverick spread my legs and began to show just how much he loved me. My heart did a flip as he darted his tongue in between me making me realize just how long of a day this really was going to be.

[chrrywon]

BY MY SIDE 💌 yeonjun x gn!reader

desc. blind dates were nothing new to you and most certainly not the types of people you've encountered on said dates. when one of your friends set you up on a blind date for valentines, you were hopeful for a good outcome. while you didn't get what you were hoping for from your date, yeonjun swoops in to save the day.

(alt: ur blind date is awful but thankfully yeonjun's in love with u.)

includes. fluff, yeonjun is lowkey jealous but not in a toxic way, soft jun <3, y/n's a little oblivious tbh, poor grammar LOL

warnings. mentions of food, like one cuss word

word count. 1.6k

a/n. yes, valentines day was yesterday, yes i am still gonna post valentines content. i honestly could not choose a concept to write for yeonjun at ALL but i was listening to this song and the words just poured out of me. likes, reblogs and comments are appreciated~ hope u enjoy :D

You didn't know why you agreed to go on this blind date, but what you do know is that you regret it. This was the nth time your date bragged about his multitude of achievements as if it would make you fall for him.

Faking reactions drained you, especially since his stories weren't relatable in the slightest; he was just another rich and obnoxious person. The date was going terribly, to say the least, but you're getting free food out of it so a little acting didn't hurt.

The waitress assigned to your table arrived with the food trolley and you gawk at how delicious the food looked. Surprisingly it had only taken around 30 minutes for your food to arrive. This was impressive considering how booked the restaurant was.

Quick service, you thought to yourself.

"These people take forever to bring food," your date scoffs once the waitress was out of earshot. 

You raise your brow before twirling your pasta with a fork. The restaurant was no fast food place so a wait time should've been expected. You rightfully assumed he was used to getting everything served as soon as he asked for it.

"I thought it was pretty quick," you shrug. "Not many places are as fast as this."

He sneered slightly as he poked at his steak. "I guess."

The rest of the date was silent as you two ate your food, lost in your thoughts. You were glad for the quiet but judging the look on your date's face, he was pissed about something. Fortunately for you, your food was too good to mind his shift in behavior.

Once you finished eating, the waitress came back to clean up the dishes and handed the bill to your date. He fished out a black card from his pocket with a smug look before placing it into the check presenter.

Cocky bastard, you rolled your eyes internally.

Once he got his card back, you gather your stuff and make your way out of the booth with your date following right behind. He was a very good-looking guy, so it was a shame how terrible his personality was.

"I had fun," he said as he slips his arms into his navy blue blazer. "We should do this again some time."

Your stomach twisted in guilt. Rejecting people was not your thing, so the thought of it made your heart heavy. But it's better to save yourself time than to put up with another date like this one.

"I'm sorry, but I'm just not feeling it," you slightly grimaced as soon as the words left your mouth. The smile on his face immediately dropped and he scoffed loudly. He placed his hands in his pants pockets with an offended expression.

"Fine, whatever. Good luck getting a ride home," he stormed off. 

You let out the breath you've been holding and a wave of relief washes over you. Surprisingly, you felt thankful since his reaction could've been way worse. However, the sudden realization that you've just been deserted hit you. You fished out your phone in hopes of getting an Uber until you saw the messages you had missed.

Beomgyu

Yeonjun's been scolding Soobin for setting you up on that date LOL

Don't listen to him, have a great time!

(Sent - 9:43)

Yeonjun

Ur date looks like a douchebag

Have fun though

(Sent - 9:55)

You chuckle lightly before hitting the call button next to Beomgyu's name. The line rang for a short while before a loud voice made you move your phone from your ear in surprise.

"____!" You heard Beomgyu clasp his hands from the other side. "Did it go well?"

"It could've been better," you sighed. "He left me here cause I rejected him. Don't tell Yeonjun, but he was a total snob."

There was a pause. You check to see if the line disconnected but were only greeted by the call screen on your phone. "Hello?" You spoke to make sure he was still there.

"You rejected him?" A curious voice asked and you instantly recognized it as Yeonjun's. You could practically hear the smug smile on his face. He was the only one not rooting for your date to go well, so you knew was feeling cocky about it. His intuition was usually right, but you were desperate to prove him wrong.

"Hi Yeonjun," you mocked his voice. "I already know what you're gonna say. And you were right," you sighed in defeat. The gloating was unavoidable as he's known to never let it go whenever he's right.

"I told you! Guys like him are no good. Just rich assholes who think they can get their way every time."

You snort before nodding your head in agreement even though he couldn't see you. "Yeah, yeah, whatever. But I need a ride. Can you come get me?"

There was another pause and you tapped your shoes on the pavement waiting for a response.

"Send the address. I'll be there as fast as I can."

-

After about 20 minutes, you look out the window and spot the familiar black Genesis sedan slowing down to a stop next to the sidewalk. A smile forms on your face as soon as you step foot outside the restaurant. The window rolls down and Yeonjun peeks his head from the driver's side.

"Uber for ____?" Though his voice was serious, you could see the ghost of a mischievous smile on his lips. You chuckle lightly before opening the car door.

"Yes, that is I," you go along with his joke. As soon as you sat down your nostrils were filled with the scent of the woody sage smell that always radiated off of Yeonjun. He tapped his index on the wheel to the rhythm of the RnB song playing through his speaker. From the corner of your eye, you could see how he attentively watched you put on your seatbelt with a slight smile on his lips.

"So about your date," he turned his attention to the front and began driving once he heard the click of the seatbelt. A snicker escapes his mouth at the immediate groan that left your mouth. He intended to annoy you and you knew that too.

You roll your eyes. "This was the worst yet. He didn't even try to be subtle about it. Like I was so close to falling asleep when he was explaining how much he earns."

Yeonjun laughed at your complaining. He sat and listened to you rant for a bit until you were tired recalling your experience. 

He smiles fondly at you and hummed in thought for a second. "The night's still young. Wanna go for a drive around the city?"

"After the night I've had, I would love that," you sighed as you let your head lie comfortably on the headrest.

After years of knowing Yeonjun, you've never once felt uncomfortable whenever he was around. Looking back at it now, he would always be by your side after any inconvenience, minor or not. Though you knew he was caring for everyone, it still brought you peace of mind.

He turned the volume up and let the music fill the silence that took over. You quietly sang along to songs you recognized and moved your head to the groove of ones you didn't. The last thing you remember is Yeonjun telling you to get a quick nap, to which you protested.

-

When the car came to a stop, you stir awake. It didn't take long for you to realize that somewhere along the ride, you had fallen asleep. Yeonjun lightly tapped your arm, not aware that you had woken up. You wipe at your mouth where the feeling of drool started to become noticeable and look at him.

"____," he spoke softly. "We're here."

He exited the car first and made his way to your side to open your door. You smile lightly at him, still feeling the effects of your nap.

The park was glowing with lamps decorated with fairy lights connecting each parallel. It wasn't surprising that the place would be practically empty considering how late into the night it was. There were a few people around, but not enough to disturb the peaceful air.

"The view here is really pretty at this time of night," Yeonjun explained as you followed him to whichever area he was going. "After this, I'll drop you home and call it a night. You must be tired."

You nodded your head in agreement and sat next to him at the end of the walkway. The bench was facing the horizon and you could see all the building lights of Seoul. You gasp in awe at the scenery, unaware a place like this existed. 

"I can see the company building from here!" You point out the familiar building. "You were right, it is pretty here."

You heard Yeonjun chuckle and turn to look at him. It was only then you notice how effortlessly attractive he looked with his sweatshirt and jeans. You watch as his piercings sway lightly when he turned to pick up something from his side.

"Here."

He handed you a small gift bag and you furrow your brows at him. A stifled laugh erupted from him at your expression. He used his head to signal for you to take it, which you did. "Happy Valentines, ____."

Your skeptical eyes turned into shock when you saw the words Swarovski on a jewelry box. You immediately shook your head in disbelief, nearly shoving the gift bag back into Yeonjun's hands. He was quick to hold your wrist to prevent you from handing it back to him.

"Yeonjun, are you serious?" 

"Just open it," he urged you. You pout slightly before hesitantly opening the box. Inside was an infinity bracelet that you instantly recognize as the one you've been eyeing for weeks. Last time you checked, the bracelet was well over a hundred dollars. 

"If your date had gone well today, I probably would've returned it." Yeonjun laughed wryly. "So take this as a confession."

"You don't have to give me an answer right now. Hell, you don't even have to accept the bracelet right now. I just hope that you'll be able to stay by my side for a long while, if not forever. Just know I'll always be there for you, whether as a friend or a lover."