#also i know. i KNOW. this makes me sound so goddamn salty | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

raccoon-eyed-rebel · 10 months

Text

Don't knock it till you try it

Masterlist

Pairing: Syverson x reader x Walter Marshall (technically college AU. I needed to make the road trip scenario plausible.)

Summary: Your friends Walter and Sy have offered to drive you home for the summer, and you have decided to turn it into a nice relaxed camping trip on the way...

Word count: 9146 (yes, really...)

Warnings: SMUT, NSFW, 18+, MINORS DNI, fingering (vaginal, anal - f receiving), oral sex (f and m receiving), penetrative sex (vaginal, anal, DP - f receiving), masturbation (f), smug and dirty talking Sy, sex in a tent, hint of a size kink (blink and you miss it), silly bets, and an astonishingly solid bromance. I think that's all, but call me if I missed any.

A/N: I've finally really stopped hurting the boys and now we're just going for some nice relaxed sex in a goddamn tent, dammit! Also yeah I'm going to keep imagining the boys in college until the day I die, I don't know why (maybe because I'm young), but just... idk, read it as a memory or something? idk :')

@geralts-yenn @deandoesthingstome @ellethespaceunicorn @peaches1958 @sillyrabbit81 @peyton-warren @summersong69 @mayloma @livisss

You were not – by a long shot – the first girl to see the backseat of the beat-up chevy pickup you were sitting in. Fact. A fact so factual, in fact, that Sy hadn’t complained when you demanded he put a blanket down for you to sit on, which told you more than you really wanted to know.

Now, your eyes kept drifting shut to the sound of tires on asphalt and the bickering of soothing baritone voices in the front seat. The outside world consisted of mountain views and clear blue skies, and the fresh breeze of early summer that worked just hard enough to raise goosebumps on skin, but inside this rusty old vehicle the atmosphere was dominated by two pairs of broad shoulders, deep voices, and what you always mockingly referred to as ‘disgusting man sweat’ – always hoping neither of them would ever find out how often you dreamt of licking those salty droplets off their abs after a workout.

Both of them had shown up, first semester, in a class they didn’t have a prayer of passing, and you’d been teamed up with them because of what you then thought to be a hideous trick of fate. Somehow, you whipping them into shape for that tutorial hadn’t put them off you, and what started as whatever the educational equivalent of ‘frenemies’ is, turned into study buddies and eventually friends. The only downside to your friendship was that you chronically had to explain to your entire dorm that, no, you weren’t sleeping with either of them – let alone both of them.

As you still toed the line between asleep and awake, a heavy hand on your knee – belonging to Walter – made a decision for you in favor of consciousness.

“We’re hungry,” he said.

“You’re always hungry,” you grumbled as you reached for the bag of food and snacks on the other side of the backseat. It was a good thing they didn’t bother to deny it, because you would have strangled them both. God forbid you ever left a bag of Doritos out in your dorm. Seconds! Gone!

Sy had the stones to ask for a tuna sandwich. Absolutely the fuck not!

“I’m not opening that bag in this car, Sy.” It already smelled like stale beer and weed in there. Not in a bad way, but in a ‘you’re not allowed to smoke on campus, so this is our only option’ way. That said, adding tuna to the mix would be a complete disaster.

“Suit yourself,” he snapped. You rolled your eyes. For the love of God, it was all of ten minutes past feeding time! Walter snickered as he held out a hand. Turkey on wheat for Walter, BLT for Sy, mozzarella pesto for you. You’d splurged on groceries, because the boys had offered to take the lion’s share of the drive.

“We were thinkin’ of callin’ it a day soon, sugar.” They’d had morning classes, and you were falling asleep while on snack-duty… Plus, you’d agreed to just take it easy the whole drive. It was summer; there was no need to rush home.

Sy pulled off the highway, quickly ending the smooth, rhythmic hum of the tires on the road, until the asphalt finally made way for the crackling of gravel. Without Sy, you never would have found the campsite at which you pulled over. Camping ran through that guy’s veins, as you could tell from the impressive amount of camping gear in the bed of the pickup – all his.

Even though he helped you get out of the truck, you still lost your footing and stumbled into him, leaving Walter grinning to the side of the spectacle, commenting on your horrible clumsiness.

“Dunno,” Sy replied with a sly smile. “Guess she’s just fallin’ for me.” The cheesy joke made Walter stop dead in his tracks.

“I think that’s twenty-five,” he deadpanned, looking at you. In a less-than-sober state, somewhere in the past year, you had made a deal: if either of them managed to make that joke twenty-five times before the end of the year, you’d… Alright, let the records show that when you made that bet, you had been entirely convinced they’d never take you up on the offer to let them kiss you. But they had.

“You’re not gonna hold me to what I said back then, are you?” you asked in a small voice, your cheeks so hot you could probably fry an egg on them. The door of the truck slammed shut behind you, and Sy slowly stepped forward, forcing you to step back, until you were backed up against the truck, with him leaning over you – completely caged in between his solid body and the car.

“Deal’s a deal, sugar.” There was no trace of his usual grin, no hint of the mischievous glint in his eyes that normally told you he was kidding. He just came closer and closer as your eyes went wide – Walter did nothing. Jackass.

Not that kissing Sy was something you didn’t want. Oh no! In fact, it was something a fairly large part of you wanted so badly you thought you might burst. On some days, being close to either of them – let alone both – was torture, where your heart raced every time they came near you, and you unconsciously held your breath when they touched you… And while the guys just freely admitted to having sex dreams about you, you kept the little nugget of truth that you had similar dreams about them, tightly under wraps. Not because you thought they’d tease you about it, or anything, just… No, wait, actually that’s exactly why you didn’t tell them.

A few more seconds passed in which your heart tried its best to jump out of your chest.

“This isn’t funny, Sy,” you snapped on a sharp exhale when his mouth curled at the corners into that signature smirk you loved to hate. Finally able to gather your thoughts as well as your strength, you put your hands on his chest and pushed. It was a good thing he let you go, because if he had decided to stay put, you wouldn’t have stood a chance in hell.

“I want my kiss, sugar,” he called after you as you paced away to… alright, you didn’t actually know where you were going, but away, at least. “One way or another.”

As pissed – or confused – as you were, this was ‘the outdoors’ and therefore absolutely not the type of environment you were well equipped for in any kind of way, thus you decided it was best to stay close – within earshot, at least – to the boys. But they could take care of unpacking and pitching tents and whatever the fuck else needed doing.

“Hey.” Sy sat down next to you on the rock you had claimed, and put an arm around you. This was oddly comfortable, especially compared to the tense situation by the car, earlier. “I was messin’ with ya back there, you know that, right?” Whether it was to make a point, or simply because Walter wasn’t watching – or maybe because the threatening wall of man from before was now your familiar gentle giant again, you had no idea, but you impulsively reached for Sy and kissed him on the cheek. A low chuckle escaped him, and he pulled you closer.

“There’s a trail up to a waterfall we maybe wanted to check out, you in? Easy hike.” The good thing about hanging out with the guys was that they really considered your level of… adventurous ineptitude. If they suggested this hike, it meant they were at least medium convinced you could actually make it there and back in one piece – or that they could make it at least halfway with you on their backs.

The hike led up to a beautiful, clear river, and a spectacular waterfall. Between the smell of the woods, the sun comfortably warm on your skin, and the phenomenal view, this hike had been more than worth it – never mind that you were all sticky and sweaty from trying to keep up with the guys and their superhuman pace.

“On the way back, can we please remember that I have little legs?” you complained as you sank down onto the rock at the river bank the boys had selected to eat yet another sandwich on. Sy hummed, finally contently munching on the tuna sandwich you’d denied him in the car, and Walter laughed. You sat in silence while your friends ate their food, which meant the rock inevitably became too boring for your limited attention span.

What started off as a relatively sure-footed expedition over the rocks that stuck out of the water, inevitably ended with your very accurate portrayal of a soaking wet person regretting most – if not all – of their life choices. Sy sighed and rolled his eyes as he swallowed the last bite of his sandwich, taking his sweet time to get up and make his way over to you to fish you out of the water – which he then called ‘refreshing’ instead of ‘freezing fucking cold’. That didn’t improve your mood. Next, Walter had to dive for your phone – which, luckily, could swim, but was still going to be next to useless to you at the bottom of this far-deeper-than-anticipated vein of icy death.

Shivering, covered in goosebumps and with chattering teeth, you stood on the bank of the river.

“Take your shirt off,” Walter commanded, plucking his own off the dry rock.

“What?” you stammered, staring at him in disbelief. Now, that alone would have been just fine, if your eyes hadn’t dropped from his face to his chest. Small droplets of water dripped from his hair and beard onto his shoulders and chest and… somehow trickled down his body in slow motion. If they knew how much willpower it took to lift your eyes to his again, they would never let you live it down. Sy repeated his words from a distance – there went your excuse that Walter had just been talking too softly. Sy was still up to his knees in the river, unbothered by the cold, just hanging out there as if that water didn’t rival the fucking arctic ocean for temperature.

As you looked at him, he started to walk back to the riverside. The sun was starting to set, changing the light in a way that made it look like Sy, much like those fucking drops of water, was moving in slow motion, flecks of sunlight dancing over his skin… These guys were distracting enough when they were dry and dressed, but now that they were wet and half naked, with damp, coarse curls sticking to their chest and abs, catching the water that dripped down from their heads… These boys were fucking with your head. Big time.

“Sugar, take off your shirt, please,” Sy repeated when he stood next to you. “You’re freezin’, let’s get you a dry t-shirt, at least.” Oh. So, they weren’t putting the moves on you. Good to know. Hopefully, your exasperated sigh didn’t give away any of the disappointment you felt. With a little help from Walter, you lifted your soaking top over your head, not caring that they saw you in your bra until it was already too late. Sy used his t-shirt to dry you off a bit, before handing you Walter’s to put on. The whole time, they kept their eyes in decent places, and their hands didn’t wander anywhere they shouldn’t. Now, why did that make you feel sad?

“We should head back,” Walter said – mostly to Sy. The sun disappeared rather quickly, and without the heat from it, that dry t-shirt – save for the two tit-shaped wet spots where your soaked bra touched it – didn’t do much to keep you warm.

By the time you made it back to the campsite, you were shivering again. The walk had done next to nothing to warm you, and your still wet jean shorts chafed painfully against your thighs. Not to mention your thighs were starting to chafe painfully against your thighs. So, the first thing you did was disappear into the tiny single tent that was meant for you – as you had made it abundantly clear that sharing a tent with the boys was out of the question – and change into something dry, warm, and comfortable. The guys did the same, although – as it turns out – their version of ‘warm’ included no shirts. Did they ever get cold?

It was tough enough to keep your eyes off Sy in cargo shorts – although Walter in jeans was just as much of a sight for sore eyes – but now that it was getting dark, the sweats came out to play. You silently thanked Walter for his choice of black sweatpants, because keeping your thoughts out of the gutter was hard enough already. Sy was shamelessly sporting a pair of grey sweats, filling them out just about as nicely as humanly possible as he sat there, getting a fire started. The sly glances and that godforsaken smirk he flung your way from time to time told you that he was more than aware that you were checking him out.

The heat from the fire alone wasn’t enough to warm you up. Sy’s solution was tequila – which helped, but not quite enough, so Walter wrapped you in a blanket, pulling you close to his side as he ran his hands over your arms in an attempt to stop your shivering. At the same time, Sy inched closer, and before you knew it, four arms were wrapped around you.

Apart from being hot, proverbially, these guys were hot in the literal sense, too, warming you up slightly more effectively than the blanket around your shoulders and moderate amount of alcohol in your system. Still, the icy temperatures from the ground you were sitting on seeped into you without mercy. Of course, the boys took notice, both getting the same idea, and each grabbing one of your legs to try and pull you into their respective laps. Needless to say; it didn’t work, and you just ended up with spread legs, sitting between them on the floor. Sy had that twinkle in his eye, that smirk on his face that was dripping with confidence and indecency… You had to get out of there before he could speak!

As you scrambled to your feet, mumbling something about getting another blanket for yourself to sit on, you tripped and fell into Walter’s lap. Of course! You had been keeping score on that bet as well, and you knew you had come here – fucking camping – with both of the guys stuck on twenty-four counts of the same lame fucking joke… This was your fault, really.

To your surprise, however, Walter said nothing – instead, he smiled politely, pulling you into a more comfortable position in his lap.

“You’ve earned it,” you whispered, although you had absolutely no idea why. Maybe because it was the truth, maybe because you just wanted this bet to be over. Either way, it hurt you that he didn’t make the dumb joke, and asked to collect his reward the way Sy had. Hoping to get up before Walter looked into your eyes – where your thoughts were no doubt displayed for everyone to see – you made a move that was entirely too advanced for your mediocre balance and agility, and you crashed down again, this time falling harder than before. As Walter grunted, panic shot through you…

“Darling, I’d ask you if it hurt when you fell from heaven, but so far the only person who got hurt in that process, is me,” he blurted out in a strangled voice, while Sy was losing it next to you, howling from laughter.

Was it the booze? The fire? The tension from this afternoon? The fact that you were sitting in his lap, with his hands maybe a tad too low on your hips, but high enough to not rouse suspicion? Or maybe just your complete lack of self-control? Whatever it was, it caused you to move to straddle his thighs, and without thinking about it for so much as a second, you kissed him. If you’d had a sliver of hope before that Walter would break the kiss after an at least semi-decent amount of time, it was gone now, because the hand on your hip pulled you tighter against him, and his other hand tangled in your hair.

Walter kissed you. It took far more effort than you had ever expected to really let that sink in, but at the same time there was no way around it. He was kissing you, and it was eager, and rough, accompanied by ragged breaths and the occasional moan. It managed to make you forget everything around you. Everything except for Sy – mainly because he let out a pained grunt just as you were about to stick your tongue down Walter’s throat.

“I got a kiss on the cheek, man,” he groaned as he leaned in slightly on one elbow.

Now, if you had been thinking clearly, you would have laughed it off, gotten up and gone to bed. Safe to say, you were not thinking clearly.

Sy’s mouth felt just as good on yours as Walter’s had, with similarly soft lips, a similarly coarse beard scraping your skin, and a similar roughness to him that only wound you tighter. You moaned, your hips unconsciously grinding into Walter’s, his growing hard-on providing extra friction to soothe the ache between your legs. When you briefly opened your eyes to see if Sy was as involved in this as you were, you saw him palm his own erection through his sweats – casually adjusting its position before focusing on you again. In that moment – timed perfectly with a moan from Walter – something inside of you snapped.

“I’m going to bed,” you stuttered as you broke the kiss with Sy, at the same time scrambling to get to your feet – this time succeeding without falling into anyone, and making it to your own tent without a hitch. ‘

Now, if it had been a sober conversation, and it hadn’t been in the middle of nowhere without a sound to be heard for miles other than crickets, the occasional owl, and the crackling of the fire, at least half of it would have been inaudible from where you had pitched your tents. But the boys were too drunk, and their voices too deep and dark – the sound just traveled too far. You could have ignored them. You could have turned around, pulled your sleeping bag over your ears, and pretended to be asleep until it became the truth. Instead, you listened, sometimes straining to understand what they were saying.

“So, who do we say got her first?”

“I’m asking for a do-over.”

“Because it was me?”

“We could just… Y’know…”

“Think she’d go for it?”

“What, both of us? My ex did…”

“But she was nuts.”

“Hey! Okay, fair enough.”

Both of them? Both of them? As in… Separately? Or… Oh, what the fuck did it matter! The answer was yes.

What surprised you most about your thoughts was how completely unsurprised you were by them. Somehow, the idea of sleeping with both Sy and Walter felt as natural as could be, and left you not only stumped, but with another problem that needed tending to…

Without thinking, you slid your hand down your body, and into your sweatpants. Kissing the boys had definitely had its effect on you, you had known that as soon as it had happened, but the extent of the mess between your thighs was still quite surprising. Somehow, tasting both of them, followed by your eavesdropping, had made you dripping wet and craving something more than just your fingers. Unfortunately, they’d have to do.

You thought of that first kiss with Walter, then the one with Sy, then wondered what it would feel like to have those beards scratch the skin of your neck, slowly making their way down to your chest. Would they lick? Bite? Moan? You pictured Sy, eagerly making his way further down, while Walter kept his attention on your chest. Would he be as quiet as he always was? Was Sy as loud as you imagined him to be?

There were so many things to wonder about, besides the obvious size question, that the thoughts consumed you completely as you worked yourself up to your peak. So completely, in fact, that you didn’t hear the guys return to the tents – just as you squealed from pleasure while you came. Hard.

“Fuck, sugar,” Sy said from outside. Walter warned him to stop talking, but he didn’t listen. “Tell me if you want any help.”

It was tempting to say ‘yes’. It was tempting to crawl into that tent and tell them you had heard everything they said by the fire. It was tempting to offer yourself up on a silver platter, hoping they’d make good on their promises from before by fucking the life out of you. But things that are tempting can also still be difficult, so you did nothing. Well, nothing… If ‘dying of embarrassment’ counts as ‘something’, you were definitely not doing nothing.

The sound of your own teeth chattering prevented you from falling asleep, even though you could hardly keep your eyes open. And who knew goosebumps could hurt like this? The boys had warned you beforehand that it would get cold at night, and you’d even told Sy what you had planned on wearing as pajamas, and he’d said you’d be good. Well, you weren’t good. You were covered from head to toe, and you were not – by any definition of the word – ‘good’.

As hard and painful as it was to just lay there and freeze, it was harder to get up, worm your double-socked feet into your sneakers and get out of your tent. Outside, it was pitch black, and the dim light of your phone was barely enough to prevent you from falling flat on your face. You had to credit the boys with their incredible foresight to keep the path from your tent to theirs free of tripping hazards – something you were so delighted in at that moment that you forgot to question whether or not there was some sort of ploy, or whatever in place. Lewd scheme or not, you were glad to make it without a hitch.

“Eh, guys?” you whispered after zipping open the tent and poking your head in.

“Hm? What?” It was Walter – and from Sy’s continued snoring, you deduced that you shouldn’t wait for him to answer; he wasn’t waking up.

“I’m really fucking cold,” you admitted reluctantly. That seemed to wake Walter up a little more…

“Cold? You could go on an expedition to the north pole dressed the way you are!” The sleep-drunk slur of his voice was… adorable, in a way. To his left – no, his right… To his left from where you were standing? The left side of the air-mattress they were on when you looked at it, standing at the foot of the bed, the right side if you were actually lying in… oh for fuck’s sake! Next to him, Sy groaned and turned – although you couldn’t see any of that, because it was very dark.

“The fuck is going on?” he grunted, his voice gravelly and dark – which did a good job of making your knees weak.

“She’s cold,” Walter replied dryly.

“There’s no way,” Sy said in disbelief, “she’s dressed for winter in Alaska.”

“If you two are done mocking me, I’m actually freezing my ass off out here. Do you have an extra blanket or something?” you snapped.

“Sugar, we’re not even wearin’ shirts,” Sy said, his voice steadier now that he was waking up.

“Great, so you put on a shirt, and I’ll take your sleeping bag.” It was a shame they couldn’t see you roll your eyes, but the snippy tone would surely get your point across.

“Or you could just come here, love,” Walter said all of a sudden. There was rustling in the tent and then a dim red light over your heads turned on.

“Interesting choice…” you started, but Walter and Sy chuckled.

“It’s easier on your eyes, sugar.” Shit, Sy was easy on your eyes, god damn. He hadn’t been lying when he’d said he wasn’t wearing a shirt, and the way he casually lounged on that fucking mattress right now, with that arm behind his head, eyes half shut…

Walter was sitting up, holding a hand out to you, waiting patiently until you had zipped open the door further – which took so long that he ended up helping you with it. As you got in, he got out, and for a moment you were scared he would offer to leave you with Sy while he took your tent, but after a while he returned holding your backpack and sleeping bag.

The bed was a bit small for the three of you, especially since the guys were so bulky, but you managed to make it work. The only thing was… shivering in between them was hardly more comfortable than shivering by yourself, and now there wasn’t enough space to curl up into a ball and hope for the best.

“Sugar, stop squirmin’, c’mere.” Sy’s strong arms wrapped around your waist and pulled you close, when up until now you’d been trying desperately not to touch either of them. “Alright, I take it back, she is freezin’.” A gesture to Walter you could feel but not see, made him scooch over, too, until his body was flush against yours.

Your heart raced in your throat when warm hands slipped underneath your hoodie, stroking your side and – eventually – your stomach. Somewhere down the line, you forgot how to breathe properly, taking in shallow breaths, hoping the guys wouldn’t notice. Of course, they did, because they were inches away from you.

“You should take this off, sugar,” Sy mumbled into your ear. Every muscle in your body tensed up at the suggestion, and it felt like the air was knocked out of your lungs.

“C-can’t,” you stammered, “I’m not… eh… I’m not wearing a bra.”

“Fairly sure we’ve seen a pair of tits before, love,” Walter replied, right at the time Sy muttered ‘neither are we’, making you laugh. Somehow, all of this seemed innocent – or rather; you were convincing yourself it felt innocent, and any subtext and undertones were a figment of your imagination, instead, when in fact, it was far more likely that it was exactly the other way around…

“Not mine,” you protested, biting your lip as a third hand, belonging to Walter, began to roam your back.

“We’re aware of that,” Sy said, his voice dangerously close to your ear. His breath was hot against your cold skin – a sensation that made you shiver.

“In fact, we try not to think about it. It makes us sad,” Walter said, leaning his forehead against yours, sliding his hand down your back and then up your side until his thumb was less than an inch away from the underside of your boobs.

For a moment, the thought that this was just a tactic to actually warm you up flashed through your head, because – in all fairness – it was working. Every part of you was suddenly glowing, breath quick and ragged in anticipation of whatever it was that would come next. What surprised you, though, was how calm they both seemed. Then again, they had already – unknowingly – admitted to having done this before. If that was where this was headed, which you still didn’t quite know for sure… It was as if the guys were both waiting for something. Waiting for… you.

Your lips trembled as you tilted your head up, Walter taking your hint and pressing his lips to yours. Sy pushed your hair out of the way and latched on to your neck. Neither of them went straight to groping you – not more than they had been up until now – but it was only a matter of time before you felt Walter’s hand creep up to your chest. He broke your kiss, his eyes silently asking for permission, which you gave him with the flash of a smile and a slight nod, gasping when his fingers brushed past your nipple. Despite the rising temperatures in the tent – even though most of that was likely just your imagination – the difference between your skin and Walter’s was striking, and you moaned when his warm hand cupped your breast.

Sy was less subtle by about a million degrees, boldly grabbing as much of your other boob as humanly possible – and he had big hands, so you quickly ran out of tit for him to dig his fingers into.

“Can you take it easy,” you blurted out as you laughed in surprise at his – as far as you were concerned – unwarranted enthusiasm.

“Darlin’, I’ve been dreamin’ of these tits for weeks, throw a man a bone.” He groaned when you backed a hip into him the same way you would have if he had been standing next to you.

“Looks like you’re the one throwing me a bone, Syverson,” you teased when you felt his cock push against your ass. It was a horrible joke; Walter laughed, Sy did not – possibly because he was the one on the receiving end of your mockery. Instead, you heard a low, arrogant chuckle in your ear, that told you exactly how he wasn’t going to give you the upper hand.

“I ain’t throwin’ you nothin’, sugar,” he growled, putting a hand on your hip, gripping you tight. “I’m gonna make you fuckin’ beg for it.”

“Promises, promises.” Teasing the boys was fun when you were studying, because you very clearly had a head start in that department, and they would get frustrated, and it was very cute. But now, sandwiched between their bodies, gone was your head start. Any advantage you had over them, in any other way, was useless here. The worst part? They fucking knew it. It was as if they grew bigger and you got smaller, and you were loving every second of it.

Suddenly, the hands underneath your sweater grew impatient, tugging the fabric up until there was no point in keeping it on. Rough hands turned you on your back, which left you staring up at both guys while they raked their eyes over your naked upper body. The knowledge that they were far from unaffected by you graced you with a sense of pride that helped keep doubts and shyness away as you reveled in their attention and the appreciative grunts and moans they let out as they looked at you.

“Fuck,” Walter muttered, licking his lips, completely focused on your bare skin. He scooched closer to you, grinding his hips into your side as he did, and turned your face to his to kiss you.

It was as eager as before, this time with Sy descending, pressing his lips to your neck, exceeding every expectation you had created in your fantasy from before; their lips were softer, their tongues wetter, and the way the coarse hair felt on your skin better than anything you could ever imagine. You whined and squirmed as their hands glided over your body, paying plenty of attention to your boobs, their fingers treating the soft flesh in remarkably similar ways. After a while, they switched places; Sy kissed you, Walter explored your body, making you gasp into Sy’s mouth as he wrapped his lips around your nipple, sucking gently on the hardened little bud while his fingers worked the other.

Eventually, he came back up to kiss you, a situation Sy took advantage of by diving straight back between your boobs, this time sliding his hand down your stomach and into your sweatpants – which is when you grabbed his wrist.

“Stop.” Stern and very effective – not that you were about to give the boys any credit for not assaulting you; that sounded like common fucking decency to you, actually. “Before this goes any further; did either of you, with your infinite wisdom and incredible foresight, pack condoms? Because if not…” Before you finished that sentence, both of them sat up and reached for their bag, leaving you there, taken aback by… You didn’t actually know what had you so shocked about this.

Sy made it back to your side first, tucking a handful of condoms beneath his pillow before laying down again. “Oral?” he asked. It was only half the question, but you understood perfectly. You quickly established that everyone was clean, making the short answer to his half-question ‘without’. Sy responded to that agreement by promptly sliding his hand into your pants, not wasting any more time. His fingers slipped between your folds, and he let out a low chuckle.

“For a moment I was worried you didn’t want this as much as we do,” he growled in your ear. “Guess I was wrong.” One quick, skilled swirl of his finger around your swollen clit made you whine – a sound he clearly found very motivational, because his fingers picked up a steady rhythm. You tried to hide your face in Walter’s neck to cover up the sound of your moans, but he caught you and kissed you instead.

Sy somehow found the time to kiss your neck, your jaw, your ear – sinking his teeth into you ever so slightly, stopping just before he hurt you – while he continued what he was doing. His fingers were absolute magic, making you swear under your breath as he effortlessly slipped two of them inside you. Next, he kissed his way down again, not stopping at your breasts, but continuing over your abs, until he reached your sweatpants, pulling them down eagerly without waiting for your permission. Of course, he had it – and you’d had plenty of time to stop him while he was headed there. It’s just that… That was about the very last thing you wanted.

Next to you, Walter kept busy pressing lazy kisses to your neck and jaw, occasionally pulling away to look at you, while he held you and played with your boobs. A few times you tried to move your hand to the bulge in his sweatpants, but he stopped you every time.

“Would you just...”

“Darling, been there, done that. You’ll be useless to me within seconds.” He nodded towards Sy, who was taking a moment to find a decent position between your legs. You raised your eyebrow at Walter, questioning his words, but he didn’t budge. “I’m gonna wait my turn, love.”

“I know this one,” Sy said, running his fingers over the fabric of your thong. You chuckled – he was right; he’d barged into your room one night while you were changing into whatever you were going to wear out to the club, and he’d seen you in your underwear. This underwear. He took his sweet time taking it off, teasing you with kisses on the inside of your thighs, his beard rough against your sensitive skin, until you were almost begging him to keep going. Finally, he pulled your panties down.

“You were right,” he said to Walter, leaving you to wonder what the fuck… “It is her natural hair color.” Oh. You fought the urge to kick Sy – instead, you lightly squeezed your thighs shut around his head. It didn’t seem to bother him. Quite the opposite, in fact.

The urge disappeared altogether when you – finally – felt his tongue on your pussy. He wasn’t subtle, but damn, he was good. Walter had absolutely had a point; barely ten seconds in and you couldn’t keep your eyes open, let alone focus on anything other than the feeling of Sy’s tongue on your clit. He impatiently spread your legs further while mumbling some very dirty things about how much he wanted to taste you. Involuntarily, you chuckled – causing both guys to stop what they were doing and looking at you in suspicion. Lying was pointless; they knew you well enough by now to effortlessly see through that, and you sighed.

“I… eh…” you stammered, unable to find the words.

“Come on,” Walter said, “if you’ve still got things to hide from us now…” He was right, of course, this wasn’t a position you’d have found yourself in at all if you hadn’t been so comfortable with – and hot for – these guys. Then again, you were already exposed and vulnerable… Why make that worse?

You hid your face in Walter’s neck as you just said what was on your mind without thinking about it: “I always imagined you to be the quiet one and Sy the loud one.”

“Always?” Sy teased you. His usual cocky attitude transferred seemly to the bedroom – or… tent – as it would seem. Except now, for once, you had a decent shot at shutting him the fuck up – although you did have a feeling you were going to like his smug confidence for a change. Sy had been growing out his buzzcut for a few weeks now, which made his hair just about long enough to grab – a fact you used to your advantage when you tangled your fingers in his hair and pulled his face back to where you wanted it.

“That’s just going to make it harder to answer the question, darling,” Walter muttered next to you while drawing circles around your nipples with impatient fingers.

“Fuck!” you shrieked as Sy’s tongue hit your clit just right – a note he took to heart, because he didn’t leave that spot again, leaving you wishing that all men were that smart. Because why – for the love of God – did they always change their approach as soon as they found a spot you let them know you really liked? Right… The question at hand… “You really thought it was just the two of you dreaming about me?” They had to be smart enough to figure out what you meant on their own, right? The flustered look on Walter’s face told you enough, as did the deep chuckle and gentle bite on the inside of your thigh.

Apparently fed up with your conversation, Sy doubled down on his efforts, eating you out like a man starved, more chuckles escaping him as he watched you pull his pillow over your face in an attempt to keep quiet. ‘Attempt’ because you still failed quite horribly when he pushed two fingers into your pussy and curled them, finding your g-spot without any effort. The orgasm that followed was the kind of toe-curling, earth-shattering, life-changing thing that made you really mad at yourself for one particular reason…

“Jesus fucking Christ, I should have taken you up on your offer when my useless ex broke up with me,” you moaned as Sy made his way up again, pulling in the pillow that you had haphazardly thrown aside – after you were done screaming, that is – so you could catch your breath. Sy immediately pulled you on top of him, kissing you hard and deep, allowing you to taste yourself on his tongue. It was something that had always made you feel weird and – if you were being perfectly honest – mildly disgusted when it had been your ex doing it, but there was something about the way Sy had gone down on you, and the way he was kissing you now, something unapologetic, passionate, and enthusiastic, that made you want to kiss him.

In fact, you were just about to commit to the bit when someone – and that someone had to be Walter – grabbed you by your hips and dragged you back until you were on your knees. You tried to lie down again as you heard him rummage around, looking for something – the obvious, really. The smack on your ass made you shriek in surprise, only making you slightly worried that either sound would have been audible well outside the tent.

“Stay there,” Walter’s husky voice commanded. “My turn.” Maybe he was the quiet one, but when he did speak… Oh my! You didn’t dare to move a muscle, leaving you sitting there, exposed as you heard the pretty familiar crinkling of foil. Shortly after, you felt the tip of Walter’s cock glide along the length of your slit. He teased you for a moment before lining himself up and slowly pushing into you. Sy laughed as your eyes went wide, and he grabbed your hand, guiding it to the bulge in his pants. Jackass. As soon as you got a good sense of what he was equipped with, you squealed. Not with any particular emotion in mind, just… Right now, you didn’t know what to think. In fact, Walter was well on his way to at least semi-permanently turning the whole thinking-function of your brain off.

“You alright, love?” Walter asked as he slowly pushed further into you.

“So far so good,” you moaned, “but I hope you’re running out of dick, because I’m running out of places to put it.” Cue roaring laughter from both guys…

“If you ever wonder why we love you,” Sy said, his sentence interrupted by more laughter, “that, right there. That’s why.”

You wanted to respond to that, you really did, but Walter pulling out of you already left you breathless, meaning all you could do was gasp when he slammed back into you. You’d never pictured either of them to be gentle. Concerned for your comfort, sure, but not tender. You’d been right. Luckily, gentle lovemaking was very low on your list of priorities in this particular situation – or ever – which meant you reveled in the brutish attention you got and soon found yourself wanting to beg Walter to fuck you harder.

Sy, as vocal as he’d been before, turned out to also be a champion in impatiently nudging your hand, vaguely suggesting he wanted you to do something, and for a moment it felt like you were about to regain some control of the situation, but no… He was also not above manhandling you into a position where your face hovered over his crotch, and taking his dick out himself once he got really fed up with your stalling. With your eyes wide, you looked at him – something he enjoyed for a moment before tapping the tip of his cock to your lips.

“Don’t make me ask, Sugar,” he growled. As much as you wanted to protest and act out, with Walter fucking the attitude out of you, there was nothing you could do but open your mouth and carefully wrapping your lips around him. The chuckle you let out as Sy grunted appreciatively when you swirled your tongue around his cock was interrupted by your own moan when Walter did… whatever it was that he did to cause it.

Slowly but surely, you made your way further down Sy’s dick, until a particularly violent thrust from Walter threw you off, accidentally forcing Sy deeper than you could handle. Choking and sputtering, you moved away from Sy, only scared for a moment that he’d be disappointed, but he had a different reaction – similar to Walter’s: checking to see if you were okay. Again, you were not in the habit of handing out bonus points for normal behavior, but it was nice, regardless.

“I’m fine,” you said between ragged breaths. “Note to self: deepthroating while getting railed from behind; bad idea.” The guys laughed, and as soon as you’d caught your breath, you joined them.

“There’s one way we all get attention without any risk of choking,” Sy mentioned casually, wiggling an eyebrow suggestively. Yes, you knew what he meant instantly, but… both of them? At the same time? All it took to convince you to at least give it a try was Walter slipping out of you, leaving you empty and nowhere near sated. One of Sy’s sly glances was a question to Walter, who ‘hmmph’-ed. You didn’t like the sound of that, per se, and looked over your shoulder to see what he was on about.

“Definitely depends,” he said, taking your lack of an immediate ‘absolutely the fuck not’-reaction as a sign you were considering it. And he was correct in that interpretation of the situation. “There’s a time and place for first time anal, and this is not it.” That was a sentiment you could absolutely get behind. Luckily, it didn’t matter, because it was hardly applicable. You assured the guys you had plenty of experience in that area.

Another potential spanner in the works that Sy mentioned, was the lack of lube. Somehow, Walter surprised you by mentioning you should have some with you – you did, but how did he know that?

“You use it to keep your hair from going frizzy,” he deadpanned. You looked at him as if you’d seen a ghost, while Sy looked at you as if you’d gone completely nuts.

“What?” you said, turning to Sy again. “It works!” With one hand, you reached for the strap of your backpack, pulling it towards you so you could look for the bottle. It was just under half full, but that should be enough…

Walter wasn’t stingy with the stuff, which was a good thing. There were few things more annoying to you than continuously having to tell a guy to use more lube. One, then two, then three fingers disappeared into you without a hitch, and although the fourth was a nice reminder that you had to relax, that went over without too much trouble as well. Somehow, somewhere in your mind, the fact that Walter seemed to know exactly what he was doing irked you – it was completely hypocritical of you, for obvious reasons, but right now the thought of him with anyone else made you mad.

The boys laughed when you voiced the absurd thought, and Sy didn’t neglect to point out that they hadn’t been too happy about several of the ‘scum’ (yes, really) you’d gotten together with in the time they’d known you. It was a weird thing to be joking about with two of your closest friends while one of them had several fingers stuck up your ass, but at the same time it felt very natural and on-brand for your relationship with the guys.

You whined when Walter pulled his fingers out, making Sy chuckle in a way you didn’t like at all.

“Maybe we should go to sleep,” he suggested with a smug grin on his face that only widened when you told him you were definitely not going to do that. “Why not, sugar?”

Fuck, he was making good on that promise from before. Now, of course, you could convince yourself that begging for cock was beneath you, and you weren’t going to do it, but that would leave you – relatively – unfucked, which was… not desirable, to say the least. Or you could admit to yourself and them how much you wanted both of them inside of you, and have a great time.

Somehow, the red light that no one had bothered to turn off – luckily, as everything you had been doing so far would have been more or less impossible in the dark – already made the tent feel like… a brothel, quite frankly, you put your doubts aside and looked at Sy.

“We’re not going to sleep, because you’re not done fucking me,” you said, giving him your best bedroom eyes. Sy seemed impressed at first, but his eyes flitted to Walter and…

A strong hand grabbed your shoulder and pulled you up until your back hit Walter’s chest. His arm reached around, grabbing you by your throat – lightly, almost as if to ask for permission, but demanding.

“What do you want?” he asked, his voice dark and gravelly. Down on the air mattress, Sy smirked up at you, making it painfully obvious that you wouldn’t get out of this, no matter how hard you tried. You quickly scanned your brain for all your options, sadly coming up completely empty. No matter which way you sliced it, they were going to come out on top.

“I want you to fuck me,” you snapped, “both of you.” A sarcastic chuckle behind you and Sy shaking his head as he looked up at you told you that that wasn’t good enough. After a deep breath, your voice softened as you spoke again, finally saying the word they wanted to hear: “Please.”

For a long, dull moment all you really heard was the sound of two more condoms being unwrapped, and the top of the bottle of lube clicking. Then, Sy pulled you towards him. As soon as you felt his tip at your entrance, you sat down, fighting the urge to slap him when he threw a smirk and that godforsaken horrible wink your way. Under normal circumstances you considered yourself very well versed in resisting that desire, but today… He laughed when your palm landed lightly on his cheek and thrust up into you for good measure, making you squeal and fall over. Luckily, he caught you just in time.

Just as you wanted to sit up again, Walter put a hand on your back. Right. In that little moment of silliness, you’d almost forgotten what the endgame was, but now that you felt Walter’s cock pushing against your ass…

“Keep talking to us, okay?” Sy whispered softly as he saw your expression change. He cupped your cheek, gently stroking your cheekbone with his thumb. “Breathe.” You took his advice immediately – no doubt a nice change of pace for him, as he was used to your stubbornness at this point – taking a few deep breaths. It wasn’t until the third or fourth one that Walter moved, slowly pushing into you. Keeping your eyes open was absolutely impossible, the sensation of both of them filling you up at the same time too much to even really wrap your head around. “Sugar, you okay?”

“Uhuh.” You nodded, showcasing your current full extent of your ability to answer. When Walter moved, you swore under your breath – when they both moved you hid your face in Sy’s neck and let out a loud moan, followed by an out-of-breath ‘fuck yes’, and that was all the confirmation they needed.

They established a rhythm suspiciously quickly, pumping in and out of you in sync. Yeah. They’d definitely done this before. As you pushed the thought away and focused on the incredible sensations of their cocks moving inside of you, their eager – and mostly greedy – hands on your hips, shoulders, ass, thighs, and tits, you felt a familiar pressure inside of you.

“Don’t stop,” you blurted out – and the boys seemed more than happy to oblige. With one little disclaimer…

“Make it quick, love… Not gonna last,” Walter grunted, digging his fingers into the flesh of your hips. It hurt, causing you to swat at his hand, which made him relax his grip a bit. Judging from Sy’s rapid breaths and a concentrated look on his face that gave away just how much difficulty he was having with keeping his rhythm steady, he was getting pretty damn close, too. In fact, pretty much the second their thrusts dragged you over the edge, both of them grit their teeth and gave in to their own pleasure, growling profanities as they came.

The boys were nice enough to handle most of the cleanup for you – which was, given that you were camping, largely a matter of wet wipes, which was definitely not even close to the shower you would have loved to take right about now. And you couldn’t really appreciate Sy’s joke about a lovely, refreshing river near where you were, either.

“Maybe tomorrow,” you yawned, turning around in the middle of the bed, wrapping your sleeping bag tightly around your shoulders. It didn’t take the guys long to join you, and soon you were sandwiched between them again, strong arms wrapped around you – clearly not planning on letting go anytime soon.

Walter pressed his lips to your shoulder and let out a low chuckle. “Still cold, darling?”

The next morning, you woke up in an empty bed, in a tent that was already slightly warmer than comfortable, with just your sleeping bag on it. The guys had somehow already managed to worm theirs into the tiny little bags they came in, and all without waking you. Then again, it was safe to say that by now they’d proven themselves to be experts in the field of putting pretty big things in relatively tiny places…

For a moment, you wondered if you should feel weird about getting up and going outside, seeing the guys, but something about the whole thing felt so oddly natural that you didn’t give it a second thought.

“Mornin’, sugar,” Sy said as he held out some coffee to you when you joined him on the ground by the fire, where you’d spent the start of last night, as well. The two of you called Walter over, who was just about done putting your tent – the one that had been meant to be yours, anyway – away. He tossed the bag into the bed of the truck as if it weighed nothing – and maybe it indeed didn’t, you wouldn’t know, because you hadn’t touched the entire thing – and made his way over to you, gratefully taking the other cup of coffee Sy had poured.

You knew better than to try striking up a conversation with either of them before they’d finished their morning coffee – it was so bad that whenever you had classes together in the mornings, you showed up there with two double espressos for them and a latte for you, because if you didn’t do that, they’d just grouch and snap at you all the way through the first half of class.

It was all the more surprising, then, when Sy suddenly asked Walter a very unexpected question: “Have you ever kissed a dude?” The answer was no, he hadn’t - to which followed an even more surprising question: “Ever wanted to try it?”

The casual energy of the shrug with which Walter answered that question was absolutely unmatched by anything you had ever seen, and you stared at the guys, wide-eyed as they leaned in until their lips touched. It wasn’t just a quick peck, either! No, there was tongue involved in this… And by the end of it?

“Eh,” Walter said, “not for me.” Sy agreed.

“I’m sorry,” you said, completely taken aback by the unexpectedness of what had just happened. “What? You can’t just… Stick your tongue down your friend’s throat and then casually decide… What?”

“Hey,” Sy said, his tone still infuriatingly indifferent, “don’t knock it till you try it.”

#syverson x reader #captain syverson fanfiction #syverson fanfiction #captain syverson #syverson #henry cavill characters #henrycavill fanfic #henry cavill fanfiction #walter marshall #syverson smut #walter marshall x reader #walter marshall fanfiction #walter marshall fanfic

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sunflowersteves · 2 years

Text

pillow forts and cuddles || e.m. & s.h.

summary || eddie and steve take care of you after a rough day.

pairing || eddie munson x steve harrington x gn!reader

author’s note || I just wanted fluffy time with these two idiots bc my week has been horrible <3

warnings || fluff, polyphobia mention

masterlist

“Oh, for fucks sake.” The keys jingle onto the floor, and you’re bending down to pick them up.

Today was a truly shitty day.

You pushed the key into the lock and pushed open the door. You let out a long exasperated sigh as you plop your keys onto the table without care. You take off your shoes near the door, almost letting out a frustrated scream at the laces being difficult.

“Baby?”

Steve poked his head out from the kitchen, smile widening at your presence. Too soon, though, that smile fades as he watches you sit down on the couch.

Tears pricked your eyes, and your lips were in an unusual frown. His heart sunk into his stomach at your upset expression. Steve quietly entered the bedroom to see Eddie’s eyes closed and head bobbing to a new Iron Maiden song.

He cautiously walked up to him, tapping Eddie on the shoulder. Eddie gasped in surprise as his body tensed from fright.

“Shit, Steve!” If this was any other day, Steve wouldn’t let him live that down. However, right now, his mind was solely on you. “Something’s wrong.”

Eddie perked up immediately at that, concern etching his brows. He lifted a hand to Steve’s, giving it a little squeeze. “What’s wrong, Stevie?”

Steve shook his head, indicating that it wasn’t him. “They didn’t greet me with a kiss, Eddie. They just…sat there.”

“Shit.” Eddie cursed. His eyes were wide with concern and worry. Every single day without fail, you would always greet the two of them with a kiss. It brightened both Steve's and Eddie’s day every time.

They both enter back into the living room, sharing a look with one another before turning their attention toward you. And wow, their hearts absolutely shattered.

Your head was down, wet and salty tears cascading down your cheeks. Sobs rolled through your body as you tried to gain some control of your emotions. You just looked up at them—almost sheepishly as if you shouldn’t be.

“What’s wrong, sweetheart?” Eddie bent down in front of you, a hand on your knee for comfort. Steve sat down next to you, his eyebrows furrowing.

“I-It’s stupid! It feels so…stupid.” You were much quieter by the end of it all, sniffling a little. Steve reached over to grab your hand, interlacing your fingers together. “Nothing’s stupid when it comes to you, baby.”

Eddie nodded immediately in agreement. “Cheese ball over here is right. It won’t be stupid at all. You got that?”

Steve subtly glared at the metalhead for a moment before he pressed a long, sweet kiss onto your cheek. “I-I just, I don’t know,” you pause as a lump in your throat forms again. Eddie starts to rub circles on the top of your thigh. “You don’t have to tell us, sweet baby. We can just cuddle and watch a movie. How does that sound?”

You nodded, your voice feeling weak as tears pricked your eyes. God, you felt so goddamn stupid for getting so upset. Everything just felt as if it was crashing down on top of you, and nothing you do can control it.

Eddie goes into the kitchen to gather some snacks and drinks. Meanwhile, Steve started to make a little pillow fort on the ground. Your eyes start to light up just a little at the thought of them being so caring for you.

“Okay, I got Skittles, Twix, and Doritos. I also brought your favorite soda, a new coke.” Eddie’s heart thumps rapidly against his chest, almost swooning. You were cuddled up against pillows and blankets that Steve had placed on the floor. Steve was to your right, an arm around your shoulders and a box of tissues in your lap.

If Eddie wasn’t so preoccupied to make you feel better, he would’ve gotten Steve’s camera out to take a picture. Eddie goes to sit to your left, handing you all the goodies. You mumble a sweet thank you, making grabby hands for your boyfriend.

He chuckles and wraps his arm around your shoulders, like Steve. “Feeling any better, baby?” Steve nuzzles his nose to the side of your cheek, hand squeezing that of Eddie’s shoulder. You hum, munching on some of the skittles that Eddie gave you.

“I feel much better now that you guys are here.” They both smile, locking eyes with one another in celebration. You start to chew your lip, eyebrows becoming furrowed. Eddie plants a kiss on your cheek in encouragement, Steve’s eyes never leaving yours. “Today, at work, Paul asked how Steve was, and then Beth tried to correct him, saying that I was dating Eddie. Then they kept asking questions on who I was really dating and–”

Tears sprung to your eyes again, your chest constricting from nerves. Steve’s eyebrows are furrowed in thought as Eddie’s hand goes to squeeze your knee. “I just panicked and didn’t know what to do. I felt so stupid.”

“Oh, sweet baby, you’re not stupid at all. They’re the stupid ones. They just don’t understand that we both love you very, very much.”

Eddie looks over at Steve, but he doesn’t speak. Anger is bubbling through him as it settles deep within him. Steve couldn’t believe some people—trying to pressure you into telling you private details about your life. He pulls away for a split second, reaching over to cup your cheeks in his hands.

“You and Eddie are the best thing that has ever happened to me. I wake up every single day with you two in my arms, and I feel…happy, I—so fucking happy after everything that’s happened. I-I can’t imagine my life without you.” Tears prick his eyes as deep passion swells his chest and spouts from his head to his toes.

You smile—brightly and radiating as your eyes start to shine for the first time tonight. Steve presses your lips onto his, a sweet and tender kiss that makes you curl your toes. You separate the kiss to turn toward Eddie, eyes darting to his own lips for permission. Eddie gladly takes the lead and presses a soft, gentle kiss onto your lips.

“Steve couldn’t have said it any better. Fuck those guys,” he hears you snort, “no, seriously. If they can’t get it through their thick skulls just how much we need each other, then they can fuck off.”

You start to giggle at Eddie’s aggression, and it makes the two of them burst into a fit of giggles with you. Eddie’s heart sings loudly against his chest at your and Steve’s smile—he just can’t help it. You’re his people. You both are it for him.

They then look at you, watching your eyes droop with exhaustion. They cuddle into each of your sides, pressing a long kiss to your temple. The affection has you smiling, and an immeasurable warmth spreads across your chest. “Get some sleep, sweetheart. We’ll be right here when you wake up.”

“We love you, sweet baby.”

“We love you so much.”

#steve harrington x reader #steve harrington x you #steve harrington x y/n #eddie munson x reader #eddie munson x you #eddie munson x y/n #steddie x reader #steddie x you #steddie x y/n #eddie munson x steve harrington x reader #stranger things fluff #stranger things #stranger things imagine

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silentwillowwhisperer · 1 year

Text

Guys. Yes, s8 was a pretty trash ending. Buuuut, they gave us Kosmo! My baby! And again, the end scenes were really horrible, (mostly for Lance) but OH MY GOSH have you SEEN how BIG Kosmo is??? THERE'S SO MUCH FLOOF!!!!!

I also want to say that I am incredibly upset that yesterday's post was actually posted exactly at 12AM, and therefore my daily posting streak is broken. I'm pretty salty right now. Keith in this post is me right now.

Anyway, this is on the Atlas, so it includes the MFE fighters and crew.

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

Kosmo is absolutely the best boy.

Most of the time.

Right now, he is a demon. You see, he is the most obedient canine in existence, and is the sweetest puppy you'll ever meet, but he HATES baths.

He'll gladly swim through a swamp, or run around in rain that makes him smell like an odd mixture of lavender and socks.

But he HATES baths.

And when Keith tries to wash him, all Hell breaks loose.

It's a fairly calm day, at least compared to the rest of their time spent in space.

They came back a few hours ago from a planet entirely covered in marshes.

Kosmo, as usual was a great help, but the last time anyone saw Keith, the guy was chasing his wolf all over the Atlas.

The paladins and MFE fighters are trying to get to know each other better by playing 21 questions.

Hunk is in the middle of gushing about yeast with Kincade when Keith bursts in.

"Where is that DAMN DOG?"

Lance arches an eyebrow so high it flies right out of the ship and into the land of skepticism.

"Really, Keith? It's been hours since we got back. You can take down a six foot extremist purple (deformed) space cat, but you can't catch a wolf?"

Keith makes a face that almost looks like pout.

"Well, I would have caught him by now if he wasn't trying to MURDER me! So far I have been attacked by a training gladiator set on the absolute HIGHEST level, ejected into space, face planet in Collen's poop-fertilizer, gotten my hand set on fire thanks to a stove that randomly turned on, ran into SEVEN doorways, and knocked out by those gas samples we retrieved from that weird planet we visited the other day. KOSMO IS OUT TO GET ME. I just want to clean his goddamn floof!"

"Did you just say floof?" Pidge comments.

"THAT'S what you got from my whole rant? REALLY?"

Keith looks like he's about to continue his rant, when his eyes widen and his mouth presses into a firm line.

Everyone follows his gaze to where a glowing blue tail is peeking out from behind the couch.

Without any warning, Keith lunges towards it with his whole body. Like, he genuinely throws himself at it.

For a second, it looks like he's going to land on top of Kosmo and finally be able to bathe the wolf.

This, however is not the case.

Kosmo teleports out at the last second, causing Keith to land sprawled out across the floor with a painful sounding thump. That's most definitely gonna leave a mark.

Keith groans loudly.

He flips over so that he's laying on his back, but stays down.

Lifting his head just enough to look in front of him, he sees that Kosmo, the traitorous wolf, has trotted over to sit directly next to Lance.

And Lance, the traitorous paladin, makes no move to grab him.

Keith flips them both off. Kosmo can stay dirty. He'll suffer the consequences when those wicked thorns in his fur stab him while he sleeps. No, it's not petty. Okay, so it's a little petty, but Keith is ready to stoop lower than dirt at this point.

Nicknames for Kosmo (all by Lance):

Kosmic slushie

Komic book

Karrot cake

Wolfie

BKFF (Best Kosmic Wolfie Friend)

BFW (Big Friendly Wolf)

The Beast (Lance is Beauty, obviously) (though Kosmo and Keith kind of share that one. It's Lance's logic, don't question it. That's Keith's job.)

The Kosmopolitan museum

Komic Sans

The Kute Kosmic Kritter

The amount of red lines that are under these nicknames is quite annoying.

#kosmo #kosmo vld #voltron #vld #voltron legendary defender #keith kogane #lance mcclain #tawny post

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granitenotgranted · 1 year

Note

I'm gonna need ur reaction and thoughts about the RaM finale once you've watched it

I only watched it yesterday so im not gonna have any hot and spicy new takes for yall but ya girl DID have some thoughts lets go (obviously spoiler warning)

thank you SO SO much for asking!! I’m honored that you want my takes<33

Listen I hate to say it but I KNEW IT WAS TOO GOOD TO BE TRUE!! GOD!!! 😭😭😭

I just need to come out here and say this but first of all I dont think Rick replacing himself was really a bad thing,,,, like at all LMAO especially knowing that it was Rick who made him I mean it was more than just a replacement he was made to be the grandpa he wants for morty but he just knows he can’t be right now.

I can fully understand how it would absolutely feel like a betrayal to Morty but looking at it as a viewer I mean Rick was fully spiraling, to me his intentions were completely pure. Also I thik im just grateful they gave us a time stamp for when the swap was made so we didnt have to wonder forever how much of Rick this season was Rick. He still did piss master, he still kept Jerry blissfully ignorant just out of good will, he STILL WILLINGLY WENT TO THERAPY. All these wouldve been out the window if theyd overlooked that detail.

Him recognizing that he was starting to go off the deep end again and not only removing himself but having his familys best interest in mind ( “Im no good to anyone until I resolve this” ) while doing so AND literally while mad at Morty is still INSANE character growth from where we started but this way is REALISTIC character growth. It was WEIRD how black and white the difference between literally yhe last two episodes and even just the rest of the season (which has famously been Rick in his peak good grandpa career) was. At some points it felt like I was reading fanfiction.

(Why do his knees look like that oh my god) Rick is fully capable of recognizing where he can be better, he always has been, he is not stupid *however* he is CLUTCHING onto the idea of being more logical than sentimental by the fucking neck rn. Men will literally build an anatomically flawless ai to be the perfectly calculated percentage nicer to their grandson and to be the man they wish they were before just going back to therapy.

Someone else mentioned this but ill also point out how much I appreciated just seeing Rick working? Like just in his space completely focused building shit with his brain and hands that hit the fucking spot. 9/10 times we only get the finished product and idk if its just me but I love when we SEE Rick living up to the Rick Sanchez tm reputation.

And Morty... my sweet summer child. It is not at all a shiny new take to say oh he’s so done with ricks shit we all know that but I really really want to point out something that I’m not really sure what point I’m trying to make with but have we noticed almost a switch morty flips when on adventures? He cried because Christmas was ruined like not even a full 6 hours before he was fully ready to kill a man while looking him in the eyes. Maybe the two were cause and effect idk bht I think that’s definitely something present in other episodes too this sorta “just get it done” attitude.

Also how much he sounded like rick this ep? That whole “don’t be too flattered he’s been actively trying to die” sounded EXACTLY like a Rick line I literally had to play it again. And the complete apathy for robo rick wanting to die until he ACTUALLY lunged himself into the void was also just textbook rick bullshit. Like grandfather like goddamn grandson.

The ending to me was a little disappointing tbh I think I was hoping for a more,,, structured? Cliffhanger? Like we dk what’s gonna happen in this storyline instead of the introduction to a new storyline yk? MAYBEEE I’m just salty we have to wait another year for more you can’t prove anything.

Rick being borderline manic ab RP at the end was my favorite it’s nice to see him just rant ab anything really and like not make some bullshit elaborate Halloween house to take his anger out but just legit vent ab what this guys been doing to him for the past fucking 40 years. I didn’t even notice the ep was over when the credits rolled in my mind we were only like 10 minutes in and I lost my MIND when mr poopy butthole pulled up again good to see he’s thriving (kinda)

On a final note when he called him Rick prime please let me know if I’m off but is that not an internet term for him? Like the fandom came up with it? Rick and morty writers are tumblerinas confirmed question mark?

And lastly: Neurotypical. Cooties.

#I don’t want to edit this post anymore than I have accept this or nothing #god I have so much to say ab robo rick too but this was getting too long #thank you for the ask!! <33 #rick and morty #rick sanchez #morty smith #summer smith #jerry smith #rnm #talk to me guys!! what do we think!!

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sayakxmi · 5 months

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[Magi reread] Night 30: Miracle

Me @ Myself: Do it for the Magnostadt Arc, Saya. Stay strong.

Sounds a lil bit like victim blaming, but I get the intent + might've been something with wording.

Yeaa, I mean, it would've been nice to, y'know, see all that development, ngl. But I'll let you off the hook this time, it's still a cool moment.

Hell yeah

Final Arc Sinbad would like to disagree.

Like, I'm still salty about so much regarding the Final Arc, but rereading the earlier arc always makes me even saltier. Like, bro.

If I were to write the Final Arc I would've had her break these chains somehow. Oh wait! I'm doing exactly that! Did I ever mention I'm working on a rewrite? Anyway, ad break's over.

The Fanalis roar is one of the coolest things they can do, like, holy fuck, we only see it used like twice, what a goddamn shame.

Or three, I think Morgiana used it for navigation in the Rift?

She got free.

Look at all these cool animals we'll never hear about again! Seriously, I would've loved to know more of the Magi world's flora & fauna.

Honestly, her face looks so cool in here.

Cat on cat violence.

Fr, tho, I feel a bit bad for these animals. It's not like they asked to be there.

It just looks cool.

Welcome back to Morgiana giving no shits.

POV: you're a merchant trying to scam Hakuryuu.

Ok, but jokes aside, well-fucking-earned. Morgiana seriously should be allowed to be scary more often.

Angy

Heck yeah.

Fatima is like top 10 characters we didn't need sad backstories for. Or any backstories for, tbh. But we've got it anyway. And, like, on the one hand, fuck that guy, I don't give a shit, but on the other it does make me think. The way he talks about slaves/slavery throughout this arc, he is, in a way, talking about himself, too. And also the fact that it's implied he was a sex slave in SnB, or at least I've always got that impression? Like, I swear, the way his new owner was looking at him just felt... ew. Anyway, the point is, I don't want to empathize with that guy, but I kind of feel a bit bad for him. Mostly because of SnB, tho. Here he just sucks.

I still kinda wonder what happened to him after that.

And that's how you open the door properly.

(Ok, but to Morgiana's credit, she did try to use the key, it just didn't fit.)

Heh

Ok, but, how the fuck did you even get here.

Oh, it's the end already.

Also, now that I'm thinking. Maybe if Nadja symbolizes little Morgiana, and Morgiana is saving herself etc, Fatima symbolizes what Morgiana could have become? Hm.

#saya's magi reread #magi #morgiana

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hirvenxsoturi · 1 year

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“I am many things, but I am not a liar.” Oron sneered, no… he had to take in another breath. "A merc named V. Does that sound familiar to you?" Oron kept his eyes glued on Bev's despite wanting to look more at the horse before him. One slip up and he could be staring down the barrel of a shotgun. Being shot in the head was not a great experience.

“From my universe, a bit of a mouthy one…” The Australian was hoping that the source was correct. If not, he really didn’t have any other ideas on how he could help his friend other than just keep them as safe as possible from the likes of Adam Smasher.

“They’re dying. Both V and I have a condition called Cyberpsychosis… I’ve had it for a very long time but it can flare up when I’m under a lot of stress but V’s is worsening with every passing day.” Oron spoke fast, he only did have thirty seconds to fully explain the situation and there was a LOT to unpack here. “There is a biochip in their head, the corpo called it a ‘Relic’ but… it has another person programmed into it. Think of it as a digitized soul. That soul also happens to be a guy who dropped a nuke in the middle of a major city.”

Oh boy… he really hoped he was making a lick of sense. “Someone told me that you may have the technical knowhow to help them. I don’t have any other choice but to come here and see if that’s the case.”

Bev's posture was stiff and his expression frigid, though there remained a flicker of recognition at the name. V? How were they involved with this character? What the fuck was cyberpsychosis? And more importantly, who the fuck told Oron he knew anything about it?

Even so...he had to admit to the feeling of satisfaction, after all that talking down to and implying that he didn't even know what a fucking computer was, and here he was...crawling to him for help on what was essentially a technical question. The urge to rub it in his face was too great to completely pass up, and the snarl on his lips was clear. "Me? Thought I was just some primitive cowboy?"

Was he still salty about that? Yes he was, and he didn't have a problem expressing that. "Digitized souls and chips in people's heads...don't we have movies literally warning against this bullshit?" Every time he heard something more about this universe the less he liked it.

"If I were to help, and that's a big fucking if...I would need schematics, scans, full goddamn access to every little piece of information that's available, and a full detailed report on whatever the fuck cyberpsychosis is. And I mean detailed like an engineers or a scientific report not coloquial bullshit told to me second hand."

@musesbykai

#musesbykai #musesbykai [ oron ]#v || anion

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sunny-bunny-bird · 2 years

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I know the beta only came out 30 minutes ago so there will be tweaks but who thought this was a good idea. Who. Literally who. Let me speak to them.

The Codex should not be a spellbook. This is a horrible idea. Especially if they keep the health requirement the way it is. The Codex is and will always be Maxwell's ''thing''. It works for characters like Wickerbottom because the books as a whole are her's, but to have Maxwell's Codex have durability just. It's the one way he accesses his powers. I don’t care how generous it is, Abigail doesn’t have a durability. No. No no no no no no.

I like not having to set it down, keeps people from playing ""funny pranks"" by stealing it but the durability. No no no, absolutely not.

Also the shadow servants as they are are just a downgrade. Sure you don't have to use flint and fuel but they last such a paltry amount of time, worse than singleplayer even. I get why Charlie is cranky if he can only keep it up for a minute.

They cover a tiny area and they only mine, chop, and dig. Things I know a lot of Maxwell mains like myself were thinking of, like collecting grass and twigs, and a longer lifespan would make setting them somewhere then leaving viable but as it is now? Literally just a nerf. A bad nerf.

Also the fact they have to bring the supplies TO you. One. At. A. Time. At least let us put a chest down or something.

The duelists are at least slightly less useless but like. No one cares about the goddamn duelists. Also the traps suck. Scare an enemy? I can die and do that as a ghost for free. Imprison an enemy for a few seconds? What use is that except maybe for koalaphants?

There’s no way to lower your sanity reliably anymore as Maxwell which, considering you’d need more fuel than ever to make more and more Codexes. Refueling them is also a big diminishing returns things, when you add that it no longer caps sanity and you STILL do have to sacrifice health in fighting the shadow monsters (do not just tell me to get good. the lag is unreal and we all know it)

I know I sound like such a salty fanboy right now but I mean. I am. Are we going for a thematic thing, here? Taking away Maxwell’s power and replacing it with a few cheap tricks? Cause if we are it’s at the cost of, y’know, making the game enjoyable.

I know some other characters had some rough-ish betas but everyone else GOT something instead of a nerf and a new hat. They need to fix this. The complete butchery on display....

(Edit) AND as people on the forums pointed out, this has just replaced one form of griefing with another. Now instead of stealing the Codex people will be reaching into Maxwell mains POCKETS to steal things.

#don't starve #don't starve together #solar.txt

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lovecolibri · 10 months

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SaL anon here my friend, saying hi after a long absence!! I don't know why this summer is kicking my ass so much, I've been in a rut of absolute apathy about everything, including putting in the effort to rewatch my comfort shows. But things are getting better and sometimes its the small things that get you back up (for me specifically its the return of Puppet History, an absolute gem I highly recommend).

Anywho hope the summer is going well for you despite the summer and global warming of it all. Don't know about you but I'm still pretty bitter about 911 and really the way so many of the shows we've enjoyed were mishandled so badly. And with the writers and actors (very rightfully) on strike it could be awhile before we get any sort of idea what's going to happen in s7 so I figure we've got time to get some of that bitterness out through some salty competitions. So to start which series finale had the worse ending, RNM or 911 (I know 911 isn't over but its over on fox so it kinda counts)? A lengthy justification of your choice is encouraged!!

Hello friend! I got this while I was out of town at a concert with my mom so I'm just getting around to this today. I also thought this summer was going to be Super Chill and Time To Catch Up On Things but we have been weirdly SO BUSY every weekend and had numerous unexpected Things happen (the fridge went out, thought it was fixed, it went out again, one of the cats had to go to the emergency vet an hour away and is now on new special food forever etc) and it's not slowing down any time soon! Sorry you're in your apathy rut era, I was absolutely there too recently so I know what that's like! I hope you can find some joy again soon! (I know everyone else Hates Summer, but I love not being cold all the time and heat and sunshine are what give me life so I'm currently on a slightly more energized kick which I'm going to try and use to Get Some Shit Done in regards to home improvement and self-care.)

I haven't ever watched Puppet History but it sounds delightful and with the strikes going on (take 'em down WAG/SAG AFTRA!) I'm sure I will be finding time to watch all the things I never got around to. I'm currently nearly finished with Resident Alien which has been a delight, and me and my mom are watching White Collar which has been a lot of fun for us.

Okay, now time for The Salt Mine.

It's funny that you bring up the RNM finale because I JUST saw a post the other day of Malex comparison kisses but the one they used from the finale is a wide shot and LITERALLY the main color focus drawing the eye in the shot is that goddamn fucking red dress under the bright lights of the bar, and only then, second, is the pink light Malex is under while in the darker, shadowed part of the bar. Sooooo I've been feeling salty about that for daaaaays.

It's a tough call to pit these two against each other because 911 literally shoved Buck and Eddie into "endgame" relationships with random characters they have zero chemistry with and that we know next to nothing about (Marisol) or everything we know is Not Great (Natalia). They really thought this was the end of the show and would rather waste time on these side characters and forcing these relationships rather than focus on the firefam and found family of it all and showing the core cast of characters TOGETHER as a FAMILY in the end. They rushed through the emergency and the feels we SHOULD have spent time on with everyone being hurt and seeing the firefam worry about and fight to rescue each other, all so KR could have time to (poorly) wrap up the 7000 plotlines she made for Buck because she apparently doesn't like or care about any of the other characters and only cares about Buck insofar as she can make jokes about his junk and sex life and how she can use his character to insert new ones she wants to have instead of using the characters she already has. However, despite all that mess, there WERE some good moments in the finale for the firefam and the bridge collapse was good, if too short to do what it was intended to do. 911's practical effects have ALWAYS been a highlight of the show and one of the things that makes it great so it was good to see some effort put into that side of the show again.

But, even with all the missteps of the 911 finale, RNM fumbled the ball on literally EVERYTHING in their finale. There was a Malex wedding, but it focused entirely on Michael and we didn't get to see Alex's POV on anything (not even anything about being on death's doorstep and magically being healed which happened entirely off screen and we didn't get to hear from Alex about it at all) except how he was perfectly happy having NONE of his family there for the wedding because god forbid m*ria be uncomfortable for 5 seconds because everything is about HER and how SHE feels 🙄🙄🙄 We got more focus on m*ria than we did Alex at his own goddamn wedding! And aside from that whole mess, the finale also separated Max and Liz, the supposed main couple of the show! The show ended forever with the lead in tears as Max goes to an alien planet for who knows how long! WTF kind of ending is that?! The show really made it hard to root for Max and Liz because the writing for them was just...not what it needed to be, but Jeanine and NDP had great chemistry and when they let them be in love they had some GREAT moments. I just wanted to root for them more but they constantly put them on opposite sides of every little thing they came across so they were never really able to work TOGETHER on anything and it was frustrating. Even so, I wanted a better ending for them after seasons of fighting and being so on again/off again the whole time. Jeanine especially got screwed over in what SHOULD have been Liz's show and I hate that being left behind was her ending. And that's not even going into all the plotholes and storylines the show just half-assed or flat out didn't address, and things that got dropped along the way and never explained. I know I say it A Lot about 911, but good god, the RNM cast, characters, and the base storylines they started the show with deserved SO much better than what they got consistently from the s1 finale through the end of the show.

Despite all of 911s flaws and faults, I still think they can come back from it all if they go back to the formula used in the early seasons for pacing and storyline distribution and focus on the firefam as a unit together, and given that the issues brought up by fans were pretty similar across all platforms and mirrored oftentimes by professional reviews, there's some hope for change moving forward on a new network. If RNM had been given another season I'm sure they still would not have resolved any of the plotholes and would probably have just made them worse while creating new ones 🤷🏻‍♀️

So I have to go with RNM for having the worst finale but damn if 911 didn't give it a run for it's money!

I was good hearing from you my friend! I had high hopes to work on my Countdowns fic this summer but I just have not had a weekend to myself! My niece will be visiting this whole week and my nephew is due to arrive in August but may come earlier, plus I'm working on getting out of town for some shows (and out of state if I can swing it to see Ed Sheeran), and working on some remodel work in my bedroom so we'll see when things start to slow down if I have any brain power left to write, much less do any of the other craft projects I have pending! I am confident I will get the baby blanket I'm working on done in time but everything else is up in the air. Remember when summer was time to relax? Anyway, I am ALWAYS here for your salty thoughts or anything else you wanna talk about. In the meantime, lets all manifest a good outcome for the striking workers!

#my sweet nonnie friends #sleeping at last anon #911 #roswell nm #roswell nm my behated #still and forever salty

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lediz-watches · 1 year

Text

Hey, that’s no way to say goodbye

ahahahaha -trails off into weak sobbing-

...so many questions unanswered...

I’m liveblogging The Winchesters as a Supernatural!virgin. Please keep my lack of knowledge in mind if you continue...

In episode thoughts:

Uniform John?

I feel so sorry for people who work in train or bus stations and have to deal with people having crises. Especially back in the 70s. This woman looks very empathetic, but I so do not envy her the amount of people she would need to have to listen to give her their various sob stories.

Oh, hey Dean. You look like a lighthouse keeper.

How DID Dean get that letter?

I don’t know who this guy is. Is this Bobby that I’ve heard about? He seems cool.

Mary, Samuel, sweethearts, can we not talk about work? Or John? Can we just… talk about Mary’s future alone?

I don’t mind Millie talking to John about Mary, because she is kind of the only healthy reason he’s in the game, but seriously, Samuel, your daughter is walking a dangerous tightrope and so are you. Do some work on it, please.

Of course Carlos is into Dean. He doesn’t seem his type though, just as a side bar. Go see Anton, babe.

Okay, FINALLY, we have an explanation for why the akrida give a damn about Dean. I’m not sure I buy that he’s ‘not of this earth’ though. I mean, he was human, right? I don’t care if he’s dead or time travelling or whatever, he’s still ‘of earth’, right? Did something happen to him in show to make him more demon or angel or something?

Why did the Queen phrase this exposition dump the way she did? Why doesn’t she want Hunters to die? What’s her actual deal? What does she want?

Lata, why did you do that? You’re supposed to be a pacifist. I appreciate fighting back when you’re in a corner, but you were hidden. You should have stayed hidden.

Okay, pause. I have to work this through in my head.

So the akrida queen is actually just a human hunter drunk on monster ‘essence’ who is drunk enough to think that the actual solution to the problem is just wiping out everyone she was trying to protect. I can run a wonderful university without all these damn students running around.

I… feel like… I don’t dislike this twist, but I wish it had been seeded earlier. And once again, it very much feels like it’s talking to Supernatural’s audience more than me. This feels pointed in a way this show alone hasn’t earned.

I think I’ll come back to this in my final notes.

Lata, I don’t like the sudden violent turn, I’m sorry. I wanted you to be vulnerable and strong.

John, your eyeshadow, my BOY.

Please don’t burn down the clubhouse, I like it.

Oh good.

…the queen instituted religion on a plague species? I am… what? I’m so confused, I don’t think I was paying enough attention.

This scene between John and Mary would be really good if they’d earned it. But we haven’t seen Mary do anything Carlos hasn’t, and John hasn’t shown any actual respect for Mary, so this actually just feels like him telling her to stay behind so he can be the hero. Yes, I know that sounds salty of me, but mmph.

The scene between the queen and the boys is good though. Each of those exchanges were earned.

…okay, so I know the fans love the car, but uh… wow. Just… just wow.

That – that was a scene, friends.

Um. Car go portal?

I know we’ve still got a bunch of episode left, but that felt quite anti-climactic.

Oh, here we go. Something happened just now, I think.

Oh, Dean, stop being dramatic revving that engine.

Okay, we’re clearly missing some story. Flashback, please.

Dean, this is not a flashback. This is exposition to explain any issues Supernatural fans have with your show.

What song? Wayward Son, I’m guessing? I should listen to that one day.

What yellow-eyed demon?

Who the hell is James Hetfield?

THIS DID NOT END ANYTHING, MY FRIENDS.

SAMUEL! Good boy, Samuel, saying you love her. Well done.

So, is John also giving up hunting for a while? They both need to split up and go away from hunting and figure themselves out for a –

Oh goddamn it, Mary

I accept that the show needed this ending, but I

DID

NOT.

Okay, so this episode was not written for me.

This episode wasn’t written for newcomers, this episode was a direct response to the Supernatural show itself, and the fact that it was the final episode kind of proves that this show—The Winchesters—is not a spin-off so much as a sequel or coda. Which is fine. I think everyone who watched it knew that was what it was, and didn’t expect anything else from it. This was a series for the fans who didn’t like how Supernatural went or ended or… whatever. And I know the ones on Tumblr were at least very vocal about that, so that’s actually kind of awesome for them. I hope they’re happy with what they got.

I, as someone who has not watched Supernatural, mostly walked away… confused? Disappointed. Confused.

I know I ranted a lot, I got very angry, and even turned into one of those people I hate to see online who just throw vitriol into the universe. I’m sorry. I became the monster, I appreciate that.

So in a way, this episode has in fact brought me a lot of peace, because it reminds me that this series was never intended for me, and it was never speaking to me, so I was in fact inserting myself in a conversation I was never welcome in. So I never had the context, the show was never operating in the vacuum I was watching it in, so I can only assume I was judging everything unfairly.

Okay, you know what? This reflection got LONG. Separate post.

#the winchesters #I have so many questions #I am so late to the party #I don't belong here #but seriously #none of this was earned!#Mary you fool!

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starbuckie · 2 years

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𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

pairing: bucky barnes x reader

words: 4k words (goddamn i'm a slut for fluffy goodness)

warnings: angst at the beginning, fluffy goodness, bucky barnes in an apron (sexy sexy man), civil war era bucky, yn’s family lives on the west coast go norcal go), gingerbread making this is very christmas indulgent

summary: y/n l/n is very much a family girl. she enjoys spending time with her parents and her nieces, to get to taste her traditional family cookies in the suburbs of california, but living in new york has its consequences, snowstorms being just one of them. she doesn’t know how she’ll make it through the holiday season without getting to go home, but it’s a good thing that there’s always a pretty, blue-eyed, metal-armed super soldier always willing to help her out.

a/n: i’m tired. i’m very very tired. but as long as i have me bucko i think i’ll be okay🥰 please do enjoy, and happy holidays my babies <33 reblog and comment if you really wanna make me happy !!

main masterlist || sebastian stan characters masterlist

December 20. A stupid, no-good, absolutely goddamn awful day. Sure, it was beautiful. Winter looked good on New York, especially upstate where the plentiful trees let snow rest on their branches and children sloshed across the ground for a small bit of warmth. Opalescent lakes froze over, catching a certain serenity in its gaze, animals hibernating by its pretty sight to create the most Hallmark image in the world. Despite everything wonderful the New York holiday season had to offer Y/N, she loved to spend her holidays in the slightly warmer air of California. The salty breeze of San Francisco and the misty fog that rolled over her head on Christmas walks with her two little nieces were just too good to pass up. After all, this was the year Mona and Cici were five and she had bets that they finally remembered her name. Auntie Y/N did have a nice ring to it.

But this year, the New York weather had proved to be a little stubborn when it came to getting home. The Avenger should’ve expected it, with the immense amounts of snow clouding up the sky and the streets of the East coast, but she had held out all hope. Until now.

“Your flight is cancelled, my ass!” The woman yelled. The words echoed around her room, making them just that more real that she wouldn’t be home, her real home, for the holidays this year. “This is goddamn bullshit.”

“Shut the fuck up, Y/N.” Sam groaned from the room next to hers. Her wallmate was normally up at the same time as her, an early-riser superstar, Sam Wilson was. He also shared her love for the holidays and for his own family, but the difference between the two of them was that his sister and nephews were already in state for their visit.

Turning to the wall the noise came from, she knocked it a few times just to piss her friend off. “Fuck off, bird-brain, my plane home got cancelled. Stupid fucking snowstorm.” Y/N turned her phone off and flopped backwards into the bed, her body bouncing a few times before coming to a rest, ending in a position that was not safe nor comfortable. She readjusted her arms that had gotten caught under the weight of the rest of her body and faced her door with a pout, only to catch sight of the two bubblegum pink suitcases filled with her clothes and souvenirs to bring back to her family. It only angered her even further.

Two knocks sounded at the door of her room and Sam walked in, baring sympathetic eyes and an apologetic smile. His pajamas were still on, his Yoda ones with the stupid, matching house slippers, eyes bloodshot from the crazy night before.

It was no secret that Y/N enjoyed the holidays, having filled the Avengers compound with garlands of popcorn, blue and white baubles, even going as far as to ask the staff who came in what they celebrated so all would feel welcome during their stay, no matter how long of short it may be. Her excitement for her family and the holiday cheer radiated through the walls of the darkened facility, and while normally the other Avengers enjoyed her spirit, they really just wanted to damn sleep after their drunken movie night that had ended at three in the morning.

Said drunken movie night may have included a very tipsy Wanda giving a very blushful Vision a lap dance and Sam had also been victim to a terrible, just terrible, lap dance from one Tony Stark.

“I’m sorry, Y/N, I didn’t know you were having a shitty day. It sucks you can’t go home this year.” The kind man came to sit next to his close friend on the bed, rubbing her shin with his left hand. “There’s just no easy solution for these kinds of things.”

Her heart ached for home. For the first time in nearly two decades, she wouldn’t be sitting with her parents at the dinner table, setting a roasted turkey on the table to share with family. But she moved on. There was no use in crying over something she couldn’t change. She sighed, shoving her face into the comforter below her. “Yeah, it kinda blows, but it’s kinda freeing too, I guess.”

The man next to her cocked a brow at her statement, facing her as he asked, “What do mean by that?”

“Well,” she began to get up, shuffling her legging-clad legs up to her chest, “I’ve never not been home for the holidays. I’ll miss my family and Mona and Cici aren’t gonna get their presents in time because Postal Service is down too, but I get to spend the holidays in the compound this year. With you guys. My second family. Which should be more fun because now I can be naughty,” she exaggerated her last word, jokingly winking at her friend with a smirk.

“I’m glad you’re able to find the light in this, Y/N, I'm really proud of you,” Sam grinned genuinely before adding, “Also never knew you were capable of handling anything maturely.”

Y/N huffed out a laugh and grabbed a pillow to launch at his face as he squealed in fear. “Shut the hell up, I’m more adult than the rest of the group combined.” Her friend just took her assault and flung the pillow harder at her, making her catastrophically hit the mattress below her and bang her head on the headboard, but before she could say anything, someone interrupted her complaint.

“That is horseshit, dolly, don’t be makin’ up lies,” a voice sounded from the door of her room. Sam was shit at remembering to close it, she should’ve guessed. Recognizable footsteps padded across the floor, letting her know that someone else had entered her bedroom. It was the beat up black boots, the grey sweatpants, and the cologne scent of cedarwood that always hung off them to let her know that it was-

“Tin Man!” Sam beamed, “you made it just in time for the pity party.” As soon as he said Bucky’s (nick)name, she flew up from where she had fallen on her back, straightening out her hair and trying to look less out of place than she was with her previous lazy airplane-lounging attire. Her attraction to the man was… less than subtle. It had only gotten worse over the year she’d known him so his unexpected arrival made her absolutely rigid. Bucky’s large presence seemed to make everything that much more awkward, his blue-grey eyes wide with surprise at Sam’s outburst. “Can you stay here with Y/N? She’s whinier than usual and I need coffee before I can handle both that and a hangover.”

Before the metal-armed man could speak, Sam zipped out of the room. Y/N also swore that at that moment that she could kill Sam Wilson. The damn idiot knew of her infatuation with the supersoldier (the whole compound did), and it was no coincidence that he had left the two alone in her room. “He’s-”

“Annoying, that's what the bastard is,” Y/N grinned. She ruffled her hair into something slightly better than before, pulling herself up to cross her legs. She only took a glance up to the tall man, before adding, “You don’t have to stay, Buck, really, I’m just being butthurt about nothin’ serious.”

“Hey, darlin’, I don’t mind it. I like spendin’ time with you,” Bucky grimaced as he sat himself on the edge of the bed precariously, being mindful of his large frame interrupting her bubble of personal space. Way to be corny, asshat. He was always a little too worried about being too forward with her. Just her. It was no coincidence that the bird man had left the two of them together because he took every moment he could to taunt the frustrated, lovesick man ever since he’d confessed his love for her a few months back. He gently moved his eyes up to hers, only to find her staring at him already. “I, uh, I heard that you couldn’t go to California this year. I’m real sorry.”

If you keep worrying about me in that damn Brooklyn accent, I’m going to have to kill you. Y/N sighed, letting a small upturn of her lips take over. “Am I really that loud that you can hear me from down the hall?”

“Darlin’” Bucky chuckled, “you know you are.” Both of them shared a short, sweet laugh about it. Something about the way he teased her, it wasn’t mean, it wasn’t rude, it just made her feel fuzzy and tipsy, like his words were the sweetest, most potent wine she’d drunk.

“That’s very true, Buck,” she sighed. “I think I’ll be okay, I’m just gonna miss my family a lot, but I have you guys here with me too. I can celebrate in some Avengers family traditions this holiday.”

Bucky grinned, testing the waters by scooching closer to the top of her bed where she sat up against the frame, laying a friendly hand on her knee. Thousands of goosebumps spread across her skin at the light of his touch, and she had to stop her heart from beating so furiously loud because she just knew he could hear it. “‘M afraid we don’t do anything except eat dinner and drink together over the holidays. Or what I’ve experienced, anyways. It's not as bright when we don’t have our resident sunshine,” Y/N’s face burned at his slight flirt, and she knew that there was no use in hiding her swelling heart anymore. “Maybe you could bring some of your sunny California traditions over to New York this year. We need more fun things to do, doll.”

A little smile curled at Y/N’s lips, her eyes suddenly glazing over as if she were entranced in a memory. Her fingers started to play with the ones laid on her knee, fidgeting around as she remembered her baby nieces and fond times with her family. “Well, each year I decorate cookies with the younger kids in the family and we go bring them to the senior center near my sister’s house. Her kids were born about five years back, Cici and-”

“Mona, I remember.” Chubby-cheeks, toothless grins, and wide, innocent eyes staring into the camera, wearing matching tutus and shirts for their second birthday three years prior. When he had first seen the picture, he noticed that it was something he had wanted before the war. Something he still longed for, but definitely couldn’t have. If he could though, it would only be with the woman playing with his fingers and sitting right in front of him. “Real cute kids,” he noted.

Y/N nodded and glanced out of the window in her room, watching the snow come down hard on those poor people who had to walk during the harsh weather.

“Well, dolly, I know for a fact that I saw that Tony stocked up on some ingredients from the recent grocery store run.” Bucky saw her ears perk up at his words and he had to hold back a chuckle. “We could go bake some cookies and hand them out at the women’s shelter in Hell’s Kitchen that you always sneak off to right before training. You always have a shitty excuse for being late.”

Her face heated up at being caught, but nonetheless the idea was appealing to her. But an entire day spent doing her family traditions with the sweetest man alive? Yeah, she could definitely get with that idea. “Thought I was bein’ subtle,” she murmured.

“You up for the challenge, darlin’? You’re the only person I know who makes good cookies here, and this is not an easy mission,” he bounced off the bed with a small crack of his old, prehistoric bones, and offered out his metal arm like a true gentleman of his time.

“Challenge accepted.” She took Bucky’s offered arm, which he then used to scoop her up and tossed her frame over his right shoulder as she erupted into a fit of giggles. “Christ, Buck, you could give a girl a warning.”

As they made their way down the long, never-ending route to the familial kitchen, Bucky noted her festive decorations she had set up around their living quarters. He really couldn’t imagine a world without the sparkle she brought to their everyday lives. “You made this place look like a damn hotel, Y/N, you ever thought about becoming an interior designer?”

“Few times,” Y/N quipped back, watching the sight of the cranberry garlands behind his back. “But my parents thought I should pursue a STEM-related major in college so I have to live with the everyday burden of never knowing my true potential.”

“Shut up,” Bucky chuckled, slapping the back of her thigh.

The two laughing Avengers laughed through the hallways of the compound, passing Sam and Steve with mission briefings in hand. “You two look like you’re having fun,” Steve commented with a smirk. He knew very well of Bucky’s thing for Y/N, but he was surprised to see that the brunette had gathered up the courage to have a full on conversation with, much less be holding her on his shoulder.

“Bucky’s taking me to bake some holiday cookies since I can’t visit my family this year.” Y/N yelled, looking up at the two men walking past them. “It’s gonna be loads of fun.”

“I’m sure it will be, kid.” Steve ruffled her hair and she stuck her tongue out at him, watching him laugh at the inability she had to mess up his hair as well.

The kitchen was still empty as when Bucky saw it, the bags of groceries from Safeway stacked neatly in the center of the counter. Bucky let Y/N down, after of course letting her kiss him on his scruffy cheek and watching a pretty blush rise to his face, and scrummage through the bags. There were more eggs, because Sam seemed to go through a carton of them in just two sittings, oat milk, two percent milk, non-fat milk (after taking out the third different type of milk she realized that they really were picky eaters), a bag of brown sugar, and her favorite instant coffee from Dunkin’ Donuts.

“Oh, thank God Tony got more coffee, whoever’s been drinking mine has been driving me insane.” She stashed the box away in her snack cabinet, hoping that whoever the sneaky coffee stealer was wouldn’t take it again. Bucky yelped and Y/N turned quickly, meeting the sight of a metal-armed supersoldier’s chest and shirt covered in some sort of dark syrup. “Buck, what did you do?”

His lips turned into an adorable frown, metal arm squeaking as he tried to remove the substance from the intricate, golden plates. “I tried to take it out and open it but it just spilled all over me.” Y/N laughed, grabbing towels as his frown turned even deeper. “It’s not funny, I’m all gross now.”

“You were already gross before, Barnes,” he feigned an offended gasp at her little jab as she scrubbed at his arms and tried hard not to gape at his biceps.

“And here I was thinking that we were friends,” he admonished with a wide smile. “What is this crap anyway, it says here… uh, molasses.” Bucky read the word slowly, sounding out each syllable like a kindergartener.

“Ooh, that’s the stuff that makes gingerbread chewy. You should know, grandpa,” Y/N did the best she could to clean him up and patted his arm when her attempts remained fruitless.

“No use, Y/N, ‘m just gonna take my shirt off.”

Well, she certainly wasn't one to object.

With one swift motion, he pulled his tee off, revealing the hours upon hours he put into the ropes of muscle vining up and down his torso. She had to avert her eyes quickly, careful to not ogle him for too long. She had plenty of time to do that during the trainings she was always so late to.

“Let’s get baking,” she distracted herself from his half-naked state, calling out to the A.I. living in their, well, everywhere. “Hey, F.R.I.D.A.Y, how many women and children are currently at the Hell’s Kitchen Women’s Shelter?”

“There are currently fifty-four residents in the Hell’s Kitchen Women’s Shelter, sixteen of whom are children. Would you like me to send an email that you and Sergeant Barnes will be dropping by later?”

“That would be lovely, F.R.I.D.A.Y, thank you.” Bucky started pulling out the bins of baking materials from around the kitchen. The two sorted through the groceries pointing out which could be used for making cookies. “Oh, Buck, we could make gingerbread! We have all the ingredients for it anyway.”

Y/N looked so excited, her eyes wide with excitement and lips turned up in the cutest of all smiles. He didn’t stand a chance against the adorable woman. “Whatever you say, chef.” He presented her with an apron matching the one he now wore, a canvas cut one with pretty burnt orange trim. She ducked her head so he could drop the neck of it around her neck, then turned her in a quick motion so he could tie her back.

With the set up instructions from F.R.I.D.A.Y and Bing Crosby’s Christmas album playing softly in the room, they began their gingerbread cookie journey together. Bucky took the baking as no joke, compliant to each and every one of Y/N’s instructions as he marched around the kitchen in his far-too-small apron. If she asked him to grab some milk from the fridge, he was grabbing two cartons. If she asked him to fold in spices to the early stage of dough, he was asking her what the hell folding was. They worked nearly harmoniously, but despite the few bumps in the road due to his inexperience in the kitchen, his heart was jumping with emotions and pure happiness. Peace had never felt so good.

Or maybe it was what Sam liked to call being pussy-whipped.

“What the hell is a clove? Y/N, do we have cloves?” Bucky asked confusedly. Y/N, standing on a tall step stool to access the cabinets, turned around to see him staring at the recipe with furrowed brows, a little crinkle between his eyebrows and a small frown curling his lips. It was a cute sight, watching the old man try to understand the more modern recipe and she’d be lying if she said the heartwarming image didn’t make her a little… possessive of him.

“We have the cloves, Bucky, don’t worry. They’re the mini flower buds that smell really good and we’ve already added clove powder to the dough, shit-”

Y/N, though she was graceful and poised in the battlefield, was nowhere near as poised anywhere else. The stool she stood on to search for ingredients fell off balance, completely toppling to the side and taking her down with it.

Before she could even have time to process what was happening, a pair of muscled arms wrapped underneath her legs and back, holding her up right above the ground. Bucky peered down at her, his blue eyes wide with concern and the most panicked looking expression on his face.

“Are you okay, darlin’?” He asked quietly. Only then did Y/N realize how close they were, his hot breath mixing with hers, lips so close that if she were to tilt her head up just a centimeter, she’d be exactly where she wanted to be. Y/N seemed to search his eyes for some sort of signal, just a sign that he wanted the same thing as her, but his eyes remained blank, yet nonetheless beautiful, and she dejectedly dropped from his hold.

Her legs swung around his arms, setting herself on the floor shaily. “Yeah, um, I’m fine, thank you, Buck.” She sent him a melancholy smile, one that covered up her heart as well as she could. The task of baking cookies felt a lot less lively now, but Y/N just had to push past the waves of rejection that the small moment had created. “We-we’ve already preheated the oven so-”

“Hey, Y/N?” She hummed quietly, turning to him absentmindedly before Bucky’s lips were on hers, his large hands cradling her waist gently as if she were the most delicate thing he’d ever known to his touch. Quickly she pulled away, pressing softly against his chest, and saw that he was just as flushed as she felt, her cheeks burning without a single coherent thought in her mind. Bucky seemed to sense her alarm though, only tightening his firm hold on her, letting her know that he was there. And he was hers. “You’re really fuckin’ pretty.”

There must’ve been a clear change in her demeanor as Bucky smirked, maybe even chuckled, at the awestruck expression on Y/N’s face as he pulled her back into his arms and kissed her again. It was hot and messy this time, her legs nearly damn giving out as she pushed her tongue through his parted lips, eliciting a low groan from the man in front of her, but if this was heaven then she would take hot and messy everyday. Cold fingers found their way around Bucky’s neck, the drag of her nails across his skin making him just that much more crazy about her.

When he finally forced himself to pull away, of course only due to the lack of breath they both had, his left hand came to cradle her face, enjoying the clearer view of her swollen lips and hazy eyes. Her lips lifted upwards for a millisecond before a look of shock came over her features. “You ate some of the cookie dough, you goddamn thief! I knew the batch looked smaller than before, I can taste the damn stuff on you,” she fought a grin off her swollen lips, jabbing a pointer finger into his hard, muscly chest and tried to look upset.

Bucky’s head tilted back with his nose scrunched adorably, his laughter echoing in the small kitchen. “That was the best goddamn kiss of my life and that’s all you have to say? I gave you some of my best work and you’re now accusing me of cookie dough thievery.”

“You can get salmonella from that, you hear me? Salmonella. The chicken egg disease. Then I’d never kiss you again.” Bucky smacked another one on her, the lingering hints of ginger and brown sugar turning her lips upwards as she giggled against him. “But you do taste very, very good. We’re damn expert bakers, handsome.”

He spoke against her intoxicating smile, pressing her chest against his as he lifted her up and onto a very small patch of clean counter. “What about the fact that I like you? A hell of a lot too. That’s gotta count for something.”

She pulled away from him as he nearly whimpered from the loss of her lips on his and hopped down from the counter, beckoning him to the side of the counter that held the dough he’d stolen a bite from earlier. “I could never forget about that, Buck.”

He watched with admiration as she placed her hands on top of his from where he stood behind her, using both of their force to flatten the gingerbread dough with a roller. Bucky’s chin came to rest on her shoulder and he kissed the peak of her cheekbone gently. It was so domestic, two of the most hardcore Avengers baking cookies, something that was a part a real life outside fighting, something that neither of them thought they would ever have in the superhero life. But they found each other, and together, who knew what would be next? “And, Bucky, honey, I think you’re really fuckin’ pretty too.”

#bucky barnes x reader #sebastian stan #bucky barnes #bucky x reader #bucky barnes fluff #bucky barnes smut #𝐭𝐡𝐢𝐞𝐟 𝐨𝐟 𝐡𝐞𝐫 𝐡𝐞𝐚𝐫𝐭 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐜𝐨𝐨𝐤𝐢𝐞 𝐝𝐨𝐮𝐠𝐡

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h4ji · 3 years

Text

─ I JUST NEED YOU

summary: you and kei get into an argument, reassurance is the only way to appease you both

warnings: car sex, oral, creampie and mention of reader having a vagina AND NOT PROOFREAD

requested: yes

wc: 1.8k

a/n: hope you enjoy! sorry if it wasn’t to expectation, was a little harder for me to write

the bitter cold is ever so evident as goosebumps arise on your arm. the various gusts of wind biting at your arms and face. the dark and narrow path of the street made you feel lonely, like nothing before. the thin fleece of your clothing doing nothing to provide any warmth while tears well up in your eyes again as you remember the words your beloved tsukki spoke to you. tsukishima’s words replay in your head, surely he didn’t mean it…did he?

tsukishima knew you feared you’d be too clingy, it was something you wished you could both avoid often, but you wish he’d open up to you, so it wouldn’t feel like being clingy would be the only way you’d get a reaction out of him. fighting was somewhat of a norm now and he never expressed his emotions to you no matter how much you cried and died inside. but you remember his icy stern glare biting at your shivering frame. “can’t you just leave me alone for one goddamn second” he snarks out, his eyes looking at you with pure anger, something that was new.

your mind was frazzled and couldn’t come up with anything to say. until, “it doesn’t hurt to show some compassion, or any emotion at that other than anger tsukishima,’ you say bluntly. your fists balled up in desperation as you look at him. the shocked expression on his face says it all. would he retort? would he say something feisty back? what would this mean for your relationship?

your previous fights have never gone for this long and the loud silence started to become unbearable. his cold golden brown eyes stare into you, with no interest, and it makes you shiver. “showing emotion and vulnerability isn’t necessary y/n” he pauses, almost as of thinking, “the type of vulnerability you seek from me isn’t going to come, it makes people weak and-” he’s cut off by your loud sobs. “then what does that make me? some weakling because i show emotions? showing emotion doesn’t make you weak-” you ramble on, tsukishima doesn’t listen. it isn’t until you’re finished that he feels like he can breathe. “well, y/n, when your emotions get in the way of things so small like a relationship it becomes a hindrance. your constant need to be in contact with me and for affection is embarrassing”, he snarls out, his brows furrowed in… disgust? anger? frustration? you wouldn’t know.

he couldn’t have meant the things he said… well if he blurted them out like that, they must have some truth? ironically enough, the sky gradually got darker while you were caught up in your thoughts. the faint prickle of the rain was felt on your skin, “well that’s just great,” you think, it just had to rain. you find refuge under the bus stop waiting area, contemplating whether you should call kei or not.

little did you know, kei was frantically searching for you. driving around in the pouring rain trying to find you. something in the back of your mind tells you that kei is coming for you and not to leave, so you stay put. you were wondering what kei would say to you first, would he apologize? or would he just ignore the argument? would he make it up to you? your mind was going at 100 mph, you didn’t even notice your boyfriend’s car pull up in front of you. his body moves before his mind can comprehend anything, all he knows is that he needs you in his arms, safe and sound. his slim and long arms wrap around your cold frame. all you can feel is tsukki’s frame shaking against yours, it's almost as if he was….sobbing. was he badly shaken up by what had happened earlier? it didn’t seem like too much of a big deal. the constant shaking of his frame and the tight embrace he has you in, it makes you feel protected, but you also wanted to protect him. you’d never seen him this way, he was always the more emotionally unavailable one, he did have his moments though and this was one of them.

phrases of “i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i’m sorry, i didn’t mean it” were all you could hear from him. you couldn’t tell if drops of rain were hitting your back or if it was your lover’s tears, nonetheless you were happy to be back with him.

he pulls you towards the vehicle, opening the door for you and persisting that you sit down. once you do, he shuts the door and jogs to the other side, sitting down in the driver's seat and inching his hand towards yours, which is resting in between you both.

“i’ll be better, i promise” he starts off, “i’ll work on expressing myself more and-” you shut him up by placing your soft lips on his, tasting the salty tears that had poured down earlier. “We’ll be okay, we’ll work it out…together. “i just need you, right now” you blurt out after your lips are no longer touching. his cheeks flush as the words come out of your mouth, “r-right now? but-” he starts. “you can make it up to me this way, kei” you smile at him and who was he to not comply with your needs. your hand slowly moves its way upward, towards the zipper of his pants. his knuckles turn white because of the tight grip he has on the steering wheel. once his length was freed, the cold air hit it, making tsukki shiver in surprise. it was even more of a surprise when he felt your mouth wrap around him, warmth emitting from the space.

it was getting hot, too hot. his hand finds its way to your head, resting it on top. and he was getting turned on even more, the fact that you could get caught, the fact that someone could see, that thrill was throwing him over the edge. the warmth of your throat encasing his cock, his tip hits the back of your throat, and that’s just enough to push him over. his cock twitches in your throat before you pull your mouth off. “cum on my face” you state, not demanding but not asking. his hand tugs on his hard cock, while you tongue his slit. “f-fuck, i’m close”, he groans out.

both of you gasp as his thick and sticky cum hits your face, some of it gracefully landing into your mouth as well. the taste wasn’t too salty on your tongue, but you wouldn’t say it was sweet. out of instinct you swallow the cum that fell into your mouth, and at that lew sight, tsukki swears he could cum again, on the spot.

you sit back against the leather seat of the car, the heat ever so evident. then you feel kei’s cold and slender fingers find their way between your thighs. his fingers prodding and rubbing against your pussy. he finally inserts a digit, it reaches so far back, farther than your own fingers could ever reach. his thumb rubs gentle figure eights onto your clit. you almost forget for a second that you still have his cum stringed on your face, until kei’s free hand wipes at your face and pushes his cum soaked fingers into your mouth. you opt to suck and lap at the cum on his fingers. your moans are drowned out by the soft music that kei opted to play in the car, but all you could focus on was the feeling of his fingers in your mouth and on your clit.

it doesn’t take long until tsukki finds your sweet spot, the spot that craves attention the more turned on you get. “f-fuck kei right there, right there. oh fuck, i’m gonna cum” you whine out as your legs lock, your hand wrapping around his wrist as you come all over his digits and he smirks as your cum leaks onto the expensive leather seats. “get into the backseat” he says bluntly and you comply, no questions asked. luckily the back wasn’t too cramped because kei also moves to the back, his arms holding your legs apart as his face sits between both of your thighs. “don’t be too loud, hmm” he grins before his tongue laps up at the remnants of your previous orgasm, sweet tasting on his taste buds. your hands weave into his hair, gripping on it as his tongue circles your clit before flicking the sensitive bud of nerves. “ngh, ah fuck, mmm” you whine out at the pleasure, gripping his golden locks even tighter as your thighs attempt to close in with no avail. the feeling of his wet tongue on you proves to be too much, you come all over his mouth and it leaks onto the plush fleece of the seat.

just when you thought it was over, tsukki flips you over his body flush against yours as he rubs the tip of his cock against your folds. “just one more for me, mmkay? you’re so good for me, so you can handle this last orgasm. i just need you, all of you” he whispers against the skin of your shoulder before placing a small kiss as he inserts himself. the quiet moans and groans emitting from you both fill up the empty space of the hot car. “kei, please move-”, you beg, but your begging is cut off my kei’s thrusts into you. you feel so full, maybe it's the sensitivity to all touch, or maybe its the fact that kei indeed was a bit on the longer side. his cock feels like its hitting the end of your cervix, it stung a little but it felt so good. being filled to the brim by the person you love was an experience in itself.

it didn’t take you long to cum: the aroma around you, the heat, the overstimulation, constant sensitivity, the sound of skin slapping, the wet kisses kei leaves on your shoulder and the knotting in your stomach tightening was all too much, you’d be pushed over the edge. but you didn’t only cum on his cock, no, that wasn’t enough for tsukki. he needed you to squirt on his cock, he needed to prove and show that you’d never be too much for him and that he’d always love you no matter what. his body is flush against yours as he makes no means to stop thrusting into you. the pleasure turning into slight pain, but good pain. before you even realized it, kei cums into you, which is enough to push you over the edge. as his cum leaks out of you, it's further pushed out by the new orgasm you have, gushing everywhere.

kei is so satisfied to have you squirt on his cock, but he wasn’t happy that his cum was pushed out. he’d just have to fill you up again. but before he could plunge into you again, he realized it was best to go home, you’d both be more comfortable. “i just need you. As long as we have each other, we’ll be okay” he smiles before redressing in order to drive back to the comfort of your home.

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bananonbinary · 3 years

Text

Time for a Salty Meta Post about Martin!

people who’ve followed this blog for a bit know that spending six hours combing through text for some goddamn sources is my specialty, so i compiled every time jon ever talked about martin’s work in season 1. which for the record, he stopped complaining about all the way back in episode 26, where he was angry that martin of all people got hurt.

things jon gets mad at martin for:

not being able to find records that don’t exist

not being able to find someone based only on a first name

the Dog

not wearing trousers in his off-hours

being the one that got caught up in the jane prentiss thing

mag 004 and mag 012 both have jon taking potshots at martin over research that was proven accurate by outside sources

things jon has never once complained about:

martin not understanding the filing system and just putting stuff away at random

martin being clumsy, constantly ruining things, spilling tea everywhere everyday, etc

martin turning in incompetent, poorly-edited, or badly formatted reports

martin not understanding the terminology used, skills expected, etc., and generally being extremely new to the field

please for the love of god stop making martin the silly bumbling idiot who can’t do anything right just because he doesn’t have a formal education. there’s zero evidence for it in the text, and it’s really weird to act like a 4 year degree would outweigh the *10 years* of job experience he has, not just in academia, but in the institute itself by season one. my boy has worked there longer than ANY of the rest of the main cast. screw you guys.

tl;dr: martin is never once shown to be bad at his job, jon pretty much only ever gets mad at him for the really stupid first impression and also not finding stuff that no one else was able to find either. after martin got hurt, jon talks about his research basically the same way he talks about tim’s or sasha’s work.

fucking proof under the cut:

(i didnt include the s1 finale or martin’s statement bc that’s just...two entire episodes of them talking to each other, but there isn’t really any notable Martin Complaints in either of them imo)

I swear, if he’s brought another dog in here, I’m going to peel him.

[pre-launch trailer]

Well, technically three, but I don’t count Martin as he’s unlikely to contribute anything but delays.

[...] Alongside this Tim, Sasha and, yes, I suppose, Martin will be doing some supplementary investigation to see what details may be missing from what we have.

[MAG001 Anglerfish]

Martin couldn’t find any records of Ex Altiora as a title in existent catalogues of esoteric or similar literature, so I assigned Sasha to double-check. Still nothing.

[MAG004 Pageturner]

I had Martin conduct a follow-up interview with Mr. Woodward last week, but it was unenlightening. Apparently there have been no further bags at number 93 and in the intervening years he has largely discounted many of the stranger aspects of his experience. I wasn’t expecting much, as time generally makes people inclined to forget what they would rather not believe, but at least it got Martin out of the Institute for an afternoon, which is always a welcome relief.

[MAG005 Thrown Away]

Martin was unable to find the exact date the original house was built but the earliest records he could find list it as being bought by Walter Fielding in 1891.

[...]

We cannot prove any connection, but Martin unearthed a report on an Agnes Montague, who was found dead in her Sheffield flat on the evening of November 23rd 2006, the same day Mr. Lensik claims to have uprooted the tree.

[MAG008 Burned Out]

According to Martin, who was here when they took this statement, it was at this point in writing that Mr. Herbert announced he needed some sleep before continuing. He was shown to the break room where he went to sleep on the couch. He did not awaken; unfortunately succumbing to the lung cancer right there. Martin says the staff had been aware of how serious Mr. Herbert’s condition was, and had advised him to seek medical aid prior to giving his statement, but were told rather bluntly by the old man that he would not wait another second to state his case. I can’t decide whether this lends more or less credibility to his tale.

[MAG010 Vampire Killer]

“Veepalach” might also be a mishearing of the Polish word “wypalać”, according to Martin, which means to cauterize or brand. Admittedly, if Martin speaks Polish in the same way he “speaks Latin,” then he might be talking nonsense again, but I’ve looked it up and it appears to check out.

[MAG012 First Aid]

I sent Martin to look into this ‘Angela’ character - not that I want him to get chopped up, of course, but someone had to. Apparently, he spent three days looking into every woman named Angela in Bexley over the age of 50. He could not find anyone that matches the admittedly vague description given here, though he informs me that he had some very pleasant chats about jigsaws. Useless ass.

[MAG014 Piecemeal]

Martin declined to help with this investigation as he’s “a bit claustrophobic”

[MAG015 Lost John’s Cave]

There simply aren’t enough details given in this statement to actually investigate, short of Martin confirming that Mr. Vittery did indeed live at the addresses he provided.

[MAG016 Arachnophobia]

Oh, he’s off sick this week. Stomach problems, I think.

Blessed relief if you ask me.

[...]

I asked Martin to try and hunt down Mr. Adekoya himself for a follow-up, but have been informed that he passed away in 2006.

[MAG017 The Boneturner’s Tale]

MARTIN

Well, I need to tell someone what happened, and you can vouch for the soundness of my mind, can’t you?

ARCHIVIST

…

That is beside the point.

[MAG022 Colony]

Martin! Good lord man, if you’re going to be staying in the Archives, at least have the decency to put some trousers on!

[MAG023 Schwartzwald]

Martin found one other thing while combing through police reports for the Hither Green area. About a month after this statement was given, on May 15th, 2015, police were called out to once again investigate the chapel.

[MAG025 Growing Dark]

I know, but it would have to have been Martin, wouldn’t it? I mean, anything goes wrong around here, it always seems to happen to him. Anyway, we’re getting off topic. Why didn’t you report this?

[MAG026 A Distortion]

Martin made contact with the son, Marcus McKenzie, but he declined to talk to us, saying that he’d “already made his statement.”

[MAG027 A Sturdy Lock]

Tim and Martin had a bit more luck investigating Tom Haan, though only really enough to confirm that he seems to have completely vanished following his departure from Aver Meats on the 12th of July.

[MAG030 Killing Floor]

Martin’s research would seem to indicate the place employed a reasonable number of international staff they preferred to keep off the books

[...]

TIM

Ah well, that’s actually what he was asking, huh! Um, apparently Martin, uh, took delivery of a couple of items last week addressed to you. Did he not mention it?

ARCHIVIST

No, he… Oh, yes, actually. I completely forgot. He said he put it in my desk drawer, hold on.

[MAG036 Taken Ill]

#the magnus archives #LISTEN #i am once again asking people to remember that martin has MORE job experience at the institute than literally any other character #(except elias or i guess maybe rosie)#he's the goddamn veteran not the newbie #fan wank /

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hoe-doroki · 3 years

Text

On the Job pt. 2

minors do not interact

warnings: 18+, fuck or die sex pollen (which means there are noncon/dubcon elements), reader is a sex worker, masturbation, face fucking, temperature play, (light) pain play, biting

pairing: todoroki x fem!reader

wc: 3.4k

summary: Super human society has a secret. Aphrodisiac quirks aren’t just the things of porn and fantasy–they’re actually quite common and too often fall into the wrong hands. Heroes, of course, do the best that they can, but when they get hit, they must be taken off the line of duty and someone needs to be able to activate the quirk’s release condition. If they’re single, who might that someone be? Obviously, you.

a/n: Half of me didn’t actually think that I would follow up part one, but I feel a heavy obligation towards my fanfic promises so...this is a weight off my shoulders, lol.

edit: I no longer write x reader but here’s my old masterlist - mobile | desktop

You’d gotten the call early today.

Not early in the day—truth be told, you’d hardly known what time it was before picking up the phone. No, you got the call early. As in not last minute. The call saying that your client would have to be transported to the agency from on site and they could tell you the details in the meantime.

The call saying you’d better drive to the agency, because you had to service a hero in an hour.

Now, patience wasn’t usually your virtue of choice—actually you didn’t often tend towards virtues in general. Save perhaps for kindness, which you preferred to deal out on your knees or your back, augmented by praise and the generosity of offering all three of your holes for your clients’ needs. But you were happy to cultivate it today, because an early call meant one thing.

You knew who was coming today.

Your pants were already off and you shirt was pushed up over your breasts as you leisurely played with yourself. You’d licked the tips of your fingers and gotten them started with slow passes over your clit, the other hand pinching your nipple, just a little too hard in prep for a hero who’d probably give it to you rough.

Maybe your reaction wasn’t right. Maybe it wasn’t kind of you to be so relaxed—relaxed and eager, actually—over the news that it was possible that Pro Hero Shouto would die. That he’d been hit with the particularly high stakes brand of aphrodisiac quirk and that if you didn’t trigger the release condition—that was: hot and heavy sex—his heart may very well stop or whatever happened on the other side of these troublesome quirks.

You wouldn’t know. After all, you hadn’t lost a single client yet.

So perhaps that was cold of you. Perhaps it would be more virtuous for you to be worried about him, fretting on the other side of the door with the guards over his ETA.

Then again, as stated: you’d never been one for virtue. Sin was much more fun. And surely it was better to make sure that whenever Shouto did show up, you had a wet pussy that he could waste none of his precious time sinking his cock into.

You groaned at the thought, dipping two fingers from your clit into your cunt and scissoring them. Your head lolled back against the pillows, eyes fluttering closed as you pressed against that front wall the flats of your fingertips, feeling that soppy wetness covering you and beginning to drip down your knuckles.

Yeah, you were ready for him.

In fact, you’d been waiting for Shouto longer than just today. After nabbing the number two pro hero, Dynamight, a few months back, you’d gone ahead and debased yourself further—how much further was there to go, though, really?—by creating a list of your dream clients. You’d written Dynamight just to check him off, the memory of him cumming in you raw and licking you clean still hot between your thighs.

Your near encyclopedic knowledge of heroes—naturally, you took a healthy interest in your job—had then led you to daydream about Dynamight’s whole hero cohort. You added Red Riot to the list, dreaming of his abs, imagining riding them, teasing sweet whines out of him before backing up and dropping yourself on his cock. You thought of Deku, what it would mean for your ego to nab the number one hero, the flash of jealousy that would rise on his face when you let it slip that you’d already fucked his biggest rival, fucked his goddamn brains out and yours to boot.

Of course, you couldn’t do that. NDAs, after all. You’d already signed away your rights to mentioning anything about what happened to or with Shouto today. Still, you could dream.

Then, of course, your thinking had truly devolved, and you’d thought about the boys being paired up, fighting a villain with an unknown quirk only to be hit by the ever common, ever unknown—thanks to you and your prudence; oops, there was another virtue—aphrodisiac quirk and having to take care of both of them. Spit-roassting, Eiffel Tower, a goddamn daisy chain—anything. Long story short, you’d ended up cumming twice more on your hands before the evening was done.

But also on that list, was Shouto Todoroki.

Who, if you weren’t mistaken, was now on the other side of the door.

After all, these walls weren’t soundproof. It provided quite the show for the lucky guards on the other side, but hey, if you needed to scream for help, they had to be there. By the same coin, you could hear the shuffling on the other side, the footsteps approaching, and the telltale sound of the lock on the door being activated. You pressed your legs together, resting them to the side, hiding your glistening pussy artfully with your legs for the sake of modesty. Everyone knew what was happening here, but you didn’t need to send Shouto’s poor handler back blushing to their colleagues.

Shouto was ushered into the room and, without eye contact, someone yelled to you, “Ready, ma’am?”

“Ready!” you called back, and the door was closed, leaving you alone with the number three hero.

Without modesty, your legs fell open, revealing the mess you’d already made of yourself to Shouto. You dipped the fingers you’d been using into your mouth, and cleaned them dutifully. After all Shouto was still wearing his costume, and you did so hate the agency having to send those to the cleaners with your fluids all over them.

“Hey, bud,” you purred, running a hand slowly up one thigh. “I heard you have a problem.”

Pro Hero Shouto was known for his stoic personality. News conferences and interviews he participated in always consisted of a slow, even tone, and little beyond cold facts. There was something pleasantly mysterious about that, sure, but it didn’t exactly hint that he’d be quick to jump into bed. Sexy voice, though.

But whatever quirk he’d been hit with must have been strong, because the next thing you knew, the index finger from his left hand was tracing down the front of his uniform, cleanly burning a line straight to his already tented crotch. His accessories had already been taken off—his belt, gloves, shoes, even the clasp at his neck had been undone earlier. So there was nothing in his way as he pulled either side of his scorched uniform to the side and off his arms as he approached the bed.

“All business, huh?” you asked, pushing yourself up off your pillows by your forearms, watching as Shouto climbed onto the bed on his knees, finally pulling his jumpsuit down past his crotch.

You’d taken a bet with yourself on the color of his pubes—it’s not like you’d be losing either way if you got to see them. They turned out to be dual-colored, but not the stark red and white of his hair. No, they were more neutral in tone, like yours. Unlike yours, they were nested above a heavy cock, already shining with precum—or actual cum, you didn’t know��at the head.

Shouto didn’t reply to your comment, and you weren’t surprised. Some people went totally nonverbal when hit by sex pollen quirks, and that was fine. You’d rather someone button their lip than ruin the mood by saying something off, after all. All business was fine by you—this was your job, after all. And no matter the size of his mouth, his cock was just fucking right.

You naturally lowered your legs as Shouto began kneeing over you, cock in hand. Your brain only just managed to catch up to what was going on when his legs stopped on either side of your ribs, his leaking cockhead crossing your eyes before you. Automatically, your jaw dropped open, and Shouto’s cock smeared pre against your cheek and the corner of your mouth before sinking deep into your mouth, drawing a first obscene moan out of him.

A humming moan fell out of you too, barely able to take in the taste of Shouto’s cock before it was pressing against the back of your throat, springing tears to your eyes automatically. Something about aphrodisiac quirks so often seemed to play with the taste of these heroes’ cum. No longer was it bitter, but just heady, salty, and more pleasant than it should have been as it coated your tongue and throat. You adored it, and purposefully relaxed your muscles so that you could take more of him in.

Shouto didn’t hold back. With barely half a breath in your lungs, Shouto was thrusting deep in the back of your throat so that your spit dripped from your mouth and smacked wetly between his balls and your chin. You blinked tears out of your eyes and looked up at him to find blown pupils staring back at you, gaze hot and pointed.

There was light behind those eyes. Whatever Shouto was right now, it wasn’t unthinking, not pure instinct. No, the way he was fucking your throat, the way his eyes had you pinned—it was intentional.

Abruptly, Shouto pulled out, a think strand of spit snapping from his dick, cold on your tongue as you panted from the rough treatment. You held your mouth open, expecting him to shove back in once you’d caught your breath, but Shouto seemed to have other plans. He moved down your body, soaked cock again in his palm, and his eyes now set on your pussy. You reached for one of the condoms you’d set out next to you, and held it in front of him.

“Hate to sound like an after-school special, but no glove…”

Shouto paused, eyeing you for just a moment before taking the square and making quick work of it, rolling it over himself.

Then, abruptly, he put a hand on your cheek, drawing your eyes back up to his. “Thank you for your hard work. It does not go unappreciated.”

“What the—”

You were left agog at his statement, wholly unprepared as he swiftly took each of your thighs in one hand, spread them, and plunged in you to the hilt. You gasped high in your chest, your throat still tender from being rawed by Shouto’s dick. He leaned over you, sighing with a relief that doubled then halved the size of his chest. His forehead touched yours in a strange moment of intimacy, and, for a moment, you wondered if that was it. Was that all the release condition took? Penetration? Or had he cum and you just hadn’t noticed?

Were you going to be left to tend to yourself with the bullet vibrator in your glove compartment yet again?

Then Shouto leaned back, looked at you again with those sharp eyes, and began smacking into you with abandon.

“Fuck,” you let out as Shouto’s balls, still wet with your spit, left their mark on your ass with every deep thrust he gave you.

Shouto manhandled your thighs, grabbing them firmly in each hand as he reared back fully on his knees again, taking the lower half of your body with him. You reflexively braced with your arms, and soon they were the only part of you still in contact with the bed, along with your upper back and head still resting on the comfortable stack of pillows.

As was often the case, you’d lost control of the situation. You could barely match Shouto’s thrusts on your own as he repeatedly used his upper body strength to bring you to him, and his lower body strength to send his hips right back in return. If you tried to reach him, your fingertips would barely brush his thighs, much less any other part of him. You were totally at his mercy.

You couldn’t help but eyeball his broad biceps, flexed by holding up the weight of most of your body. And aside from the sweat dripping from his forehead—probably quirk-induced—he was showing little to no strain.

He hadn’t always had muscles like this, you were sure. You couldn’t help but remember pundits sounding off on Shouto’s overreliance on his quirk over physical strength, or the difference between his body and the massive tank that was his father, Endeavor. They’d shown clips of his body—handsome, always handsome—but either Shouto had done a lot of bulking in the last few years or those newscasters had been particularly unkind. Likely both. Because now, drops of sweat were trickling from his body in rivulets; there were no straight paths to go down. A bulging muscle here to dip around, the crease from a flexed ab there to pool in. You were hypnotized by his form, even the thighs straining under the part of his uniform that he hadn’t bothered to burn off.

Your mind was so enraptured by thoughts of Shouto’s body that the sensations happening to yours crept up on you. All at once, you realized that your thighs were burning. Actually, one was burning, and the other was freezing cold, both just under his palms and branching up the fingers currently painting five bruises into each muscle.

A gasp flew out of your mouth and your eyes rolled back as your thighs suddenly began quaking unbidden. Shouto looked down at you, his expression easy save for those passionate eyes, little huffs escaping his slack jaw. “Too much?” he asked.

Your head shook side to side, a vehement no as Shouto dug his fingers even deeper into your flesh, bringing dull throbs of pain so close to where every thrust brought about sharp flashes of pleasure. It felt like a betrayal when he just then loosened his grip to slide his hands up to your knees and hook them over his shoulder. Then those hands, right at the brink of freezing and searing pressed into the meat of your ass as he brought your hips to his with redoubled force.

That first new thrust sent Shouto’s head turning to the side, digging a painful bite into the fleshy part of your calf, making you cry out. A moment later, he let go, his tongue passing over the teeth marks like a salve over a wound.

All the dueling sensations had you close. You’d been teasing yourself for so long before Shouto had even shown up and now he was fucking into you like…well, like his life depended on it.

God, was it wrong to love fuck or die quirks?

You were quick to take a hand and put it back on your aching clit, despite the strain it put on your neck and upper back to lose one arm of support. Part of a good fucking was being folded like a pretzel, and you’d just book a massage appointment tomorrow to deal with it. Surely saving the life of the number three hero was worth a reward.

Shouto’s eyes honed in on your fingers moving rapidly over your clit, and you bet he could feel the twitches of your cunt approaching climax. A hand left your ass and went behind his head to pat your ankles. “Cross them,” he instructed.

Obediently, you crossed your ankles, making your position a bit sturdier as Shouto continued to drive you back onto him with one hand. Then that second hand went to yours, brushing it away with the backs of his knuckles. A surprisingly gentle gesture for the man who was kneading bruises into your ass and biting your leg. Then, with his thumb, he painted one slow, hard, blazing stripe up your clit, and you came instantly.

“Fuck!” you shouted as your back arched in midair, the crown of your head digging into the pillows as your neatly crossed ankles came undone, your thighs shaking and falling from Shouto’s grip. His cock slid out of you as your lower half bounced once on the bed. Before the springs could vault you back, Shouto was on top of you, pressing himself back in your still convulsing cunt.

His thrusts were long, desperate as he breathed into your neck. He mouthed the base of your neck with light bites and suckles—never quite kissing. Your thighs came back up around his hips and his left hand went back to squeezing your thigh. Meanwhile, the right came between your thighs, surprising you as two fingers began prodding at your entrance.

Almost immediately, you could feel the heat of the stretch. Or rather, you would have felt the heat of the stretch, had his fingers not been ice cold against you. You cried out as he curled his fingers forward while his cock kept thrusting straight through you, the hot and cold contrast nearly too much. You wondered how much more intense it would feel if Shouto were unbound by the condom, and you able to bear its full heat.

“Please,” you whimpered as your orgasm began to rise again, too quickly, nearly as sudden as the first one had been, but without all the build up. This one felt like it was going to tear out of you.

Just then, the nips that Shouto had been teasing over your neck went away, and he planted one more good bite on your shoulder as his thrusts became insistent, the fingers petting inside you matched with a cold thumb over your clit. And neither of you could hold on a moment longer.

Shouto groaned low and bone deep in your ear while your voice, still raspy from early, keened in his. Your thighs went tight around his waist and his hand was trapped between you as you both rode out your highs. It took a full minute for your muscles to unwind, and your feet to fall flat to the bed. At that point, Shouto pulled out and rolled over next to you, both of you panting as the sweat dried on your skin.

Shouto pulled the condom off of himself and found a trashcan to toss it into before falling flat on his back again. After a few moments of nothing but heavy breathing, he opened his mouth. “Thank you for your professionalism.”

You snorted. “You’re welcome,” you managed, keeping your laughter at bay. “That’s not what people usually thank me for.”

“Thank you for saving my life?” Shouto tried again, his gaze shifting over to you.

His eyes were still bright, but his gaze less sharp, obscured by dual-colored bangs falling over it. Suddenly, Shouto looked a great deal more innocent than the man who’d been fucking the life out of you just minutes ago. Perhaps an effect of the quirk wearing off, perhaps the effect of unfettered pleasure meeting relief.

“More common, yes,” you replied, unable to keep the smile off your face.

“You’re very good at what you do,” Shouto said, his eyes going to the spot where he’d bitten your shoulder. He circled it with one finger, brows furrowing. “You’re like a hero.”

“Hah,” you returned, looking up at the ceiling. You weren’t going to let this be the moment in your career that made you blush. “Vixen, the orgasm hero. I don’t think it would meet the commission’s guidelines.”

“Perhaps not,” Shouto said, sitting up and pulling up what remained of his costume, frowning at the spot where he’d torn it. You supposed you needn’t have worried about this costume going to the cleaners; the support team would likely toss it and make a replacement.

“There are clothes you can change into in the closet,” you said, pointing to the near invisible door in the back wall.

Shouto waved you away as he stood up. “This will be fine to make it to the locker room with.”

“Suit yourself,” you said as you pushed yourself up, trying to remember where you’d thrown your leggings before you’d started jerking of, grunting as your spine cracked.

Shouto plucked the leggings from near the foot of the bed and tossed them to you before heading towards the door. With his hand on the knob, he turned back and made eye contact with you one last time, the ghost of a smile you’d never seen before on his lips. “Thanks again…Vixen.”

As he closed the door, you could only blame your own impropriety, that utter lack of virtue that you first thought was:

Number two pro hero, Shouto: check.

#todoroki smut #bnha smut #mha smut #shouto todoroki smut #shoto todoroki smut #tw: sex work #tw: sex pollen #tw: masochism #tw: pain play #tw: dubcon #tw: biting #tw: temperature play

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moonbaby26 · 3 years

Text

(gif from Jason Passaro’s youtube edit here)

Title: One Shitty Friday Night (Part 2) *contains some smut*

Pairing: Peter Maximoff x Fem!Reader

Summary: Set after the events of Deadpool 2, this is the conclusion from the previous part here. After your semi-disastrous double date night, you, Peter, Kitty, and Colossus head home with Deadpool and Russell in tow to face Logan, Charles, and Erik back at the mansion. You also get some well earned alone time with Peter at last, only to go back to chaos the following morning with Peter confronting Gambit, and Deadpool popping back in.

Warnings: It’s still a bit of Deadpool and all that entails, but only at the beginning and end. *In this part there actually is some Peter x Reader sex.* But you’re welcome to skip over that if uncomfortable with it. I clearly mark in red before and after any smut within the story so readers can choose what to read and still enjoy just the fluff and character interactions before and after if wanted. ❤️

Peter Maximoff x Reader Masterlist

——————————

The ride home was surprisingly quiet actually. Colossus driving, with Kitty sitting shotgun in the front with him. Russell was in the second row seat behind Kitty, but the seat that normally would have been behind the driver had been taken out specifically with Colossus in mind to let his seat sit further back with his large height.

That just left the third row of three seats. With Peter still not in the best mood, you’d chosen to sit between him and Wade. But they’d mostly just been snacking on the cannolis the whole way home rather than saying or doing much of anything else.

You’d only eaten two in all, hungry but not wanting a stomach ache from the sweetness. You’d felt your own phone buzzing in your pocket most the way home too, but you refused to look at it yet. You could only imagine which friends were trying to call or text you about whatever was being said on TV and the internet now.

Kitty only told you that she’d messaged Xavier to tell him you were all on your way home. But you weren’t sure if she’d warned him about Deadpool and Russell coming with you. Or if she’d kept her phone out at all either afterward, afraid of what the Professor might say in response.

It could have been worse was what you kept thinking. It had been worse actually. Deadpool had once killed an Essex House staff member on live TV, while wearing an X-Men shirt, and with Colossus and Negasonic Teenage Warhead also in camera view. But, given that that trouble had already come from him once, would the Professor be harder on you all this second time around? Would he still think you handled the situation as well as you could have or not?

By the time you felt the familiar turns up the long drive to the mansion, you realized that the period for anxiety was over. Whatever would be would now be.

Colossus had decided to park right in front the main entry doors instead of pulling down into the garage. Mostly just in case Wade’s welcome wasn’t a warm one. He could step right back outside if needed instead of already being in the depths of the compound.

Russell was actually the first one to speak though as you all climbed out the vehicle in front of the well manicured landscaping and dim accent lights.

“Holy shit, he is a rich son of a bitch.” The boy spoke, gaping a little at the sheer size of the mansion and the number of floors still above you.

“The cursing, Russell, please.” Colossus reminded. “There are younger children who live here.”

“Though they should be in bed,” Kitty responded, albeit sounding doubtful herself as she started up the entryway stairs.

They might normally be yes, but probably not if the rumor mill of tonight’s excitement was already burning through the place.

“Well I’ve actually never seen more than three people anytime I’ve been here. So there’s that,” Deadpool quipped.

“Yeah well, we were probably busy.” Peter retorted.

“Oh? Well yeah, maybe you were.” Wade replied, eyeing Peter. “Here’s a thought though, Peters. Maybe next time Ryan Murphy calls, just say N-O. No means no, right?”

“What-” Peter started to ask, but then thought better of it. It really wasn’t worth trying to piece together anything else Deadpool said into something more sensical right now.

As Kitty pushed open the doors and you all strode into the large foyer in front the main staircases, you weren’t sure what would be awaiting you. But the immediate, utterly ecstatic squeal that erupted from Deadpool next had all of you jumping before a gruff voice responded from up on the second floor landing.

“You have to be goddamn shitting me. You actually let that idiot follow you home?” Logan responded, the odd mix of disgust and annoyance so clear on his unshaven face.

“I thought you said no cursing here,” Russell complained.

“Logan is sometimes another matter...” Colossus attempted to answer with some neutrality, even as Deadpool was now bounding up the stairs towards the older man.

“Finally! Finally! I don’t even care if it’s just Tumblr and like two people and their FBI agents will see this! Beggars can’t be choosers! I missed you so much, papa bear!”

You stood there staring in complete disbelief, Deadpool looking as if he was actually going to try and hug the Wolverine.

You were likely all of the same mindset about the only way this could possibly play out, but Colossus was the only one to speak, pleading really. “Please, Logan! No blood on the inside of the house! You know how badly it would stain the floors!”

But Wolverine only growled, claws already aimed as Wade stopped just millimeters short, the metal tips now grazing the mercenary’s throat. “You heard him, Wade. Don’t give me a reason and you won’t be having to regrow limbs tonight.” Logan replied.

“You salty old bastard. We haven’t even seen each other in ages, you won’t return my calls, and this is the welcome I get?” Deadpool pouted.

“You’re bad luck walking, Wade. These kids don’t need you hanging around here for long.”

“Oh, and you’re such a tasteful role model. Grandpappy Wolverine teaching a class on cigar chain smoking, and stabbing your problems away this semester?”

“The fuck are you on about? How many people have you killed this month alone, Wade?”

“Twenty four and a half, thank you. And ask me how many of those never killed or raped someone themselves. How many the police never would have touched. What do you think I’ll say there?”

“Reason it all you want, bub. You’re just a wack job vigilante.”

“This could go on all night.” Kitty sighed. “Logan! Where is everyone else? We brought Russell with us, we need to take him to the Professor.”

Wolverine only softened slightly at Kitty’s voice, answering her. “Charles put in a curfew tonight, all students back to their rooms. Wade’s not allowed past the entrance, but the Professor is waiting for you in his study.”

“Discrimination.” Wade huffed, yet then posed in a mock seductive look. “But if you wanted me alone tough guy, all you’d have to do is ask.”

“Please do not make a mess, Logan. We will be back to collect him as soon as we can.” Colossus said with some concern, you all just starting towards the hallway that lead to Xavier’s office.

“No promises.” Logan called back before continuing, louder then so you could hear him even as you walked away. “And hey, Peter-”

“Yeah?” He answered back from your side, glancing over his shoulder at Logan.

“Your dad’s here, kid.”

Peter paused in his tracks, staring for a moment. You could see the emotions process through him before he took a deep breath. There was nothing more that any of you could do though. He just lifted a hand up in a wave of acknowledgement, finally starting to walk again. “Thanks for the warning,”

Even in all that had happened through the years though, going to see Xavier like this still brought back an odd sense of childhood. And that little feeling of dread to be honest. Not because you really thought he would be angry, but because you worried that you may have disappointed him. Which would have always been the worse of the two options in your own mind.

Colossus was the one to slide the ornate pocket doors open, you all trailing in behind him as you entered the study.

It was warm inside, the fireplace crackling and dancing. That fire was the only light besides a couple small table lamps and a TV now on mute, but still running the late night news.

You were but weren’t surprised to see Erik sitting there as well, a short glass of what looked like scotch in one hand. There was a chessboard as well, positioned between himself and Charles on a little table, the pieces clearly still in play.

As the TV flickered again though, you glanced back to it reflexively. You saw an exterior shot of the restaurant you’d been at only a short time earlier, now with police tape all around. It cut to a video of Colossus walking up to police cars with Giovanni in hand, but then just as quickly the flashing red and blue lights changed to the white flashes of cameras and yourself and Peter talking before the sudden kiss. You only looked to the floor in renewed embarrassment then, choosing not to read the ticker captions currently scrolling beneath the now looping video.

“Hey, Dad...” Peter said somewhat unsure, but still the first to speak. He’d shoved his hands into the pockets of his leather jacket now, as he often did when nervous. “Didn’t know you were in town.”

“Peter.” Erik answered plainly though, taking a sip of his drink before setting it back down. “I only arrived this afternoon. I had been hoping for a quiet evening.” He looked briefly towards the television, but then coolly back to Peter. “But here we are aren’t we?”

“Erik,” Xavier warned lightly though, no doubt sensing Peter tense further at the tone.

“They aren’t children anymore, Charles.” Erik responded sharply. “And it never should have been allowed to get to this point. I told you from the beginning that they should have worn masks, they should have been discreet. Trying to craft this foolhardy public image of the new X-Men as some celebrity clean up crew for humans’ mistakes, it’s making a mockery of us all.”

The exasperated breath that came out of the Professor next told you that this was far from the first time that this subject had come up as a point of contention between the two. But the rest of you were quite helpless whenever Erik and Charles would start to argue in front of you.

Xavier countered, “As I have also said before, Erik, we all knew there would be some negatives from moving more into the public eye with our team. But how can mutant kind ever be accepted for who we really are if we only kept slinking in the shadows for the rest of our lives? It’s no different than Raven showing herself on camera all those years ago. You know what an impact that made on the youth in our community then.”

“But the humans are fickle. The magazines and the talk shows only jest at you now. What happens when they turn on you? When my son’s face is only on a wanted list in a database, Charles? What then?”

The anger and protectiveness flaring up in Erik’s tone only made the room even more uncomfortable, yet you didn’t find yourself surprised. Peter’s relationship with his father would never be an easy one, but you knew in the end that Erik did feel a sense of responsibility towards his progeny. And hell have mercy on anyone who did ever truly harm Wanda, Peter, or Lorna and word of it get back to their father.

Charles remained patient though, likely understanding those paternal emotions all too well himself. The Professor treated you all as well as his own after all. “The ones that wish to harm us already knew who we were, Erik. They don’t need to pick up that gossip drivel to find us. We protect ourselves by staying together, as we always have. They want us, then they’ll have to face us all. And Lord knows even gods have tried.”

Erik frowned, and for a moment you wondered if Xavier was saying something more to him telepathically. Something to make him finally quiet or at least agree to postpone the argument’s continuation for later in private.

Regardless of whether your instincts were correct or not on that, their conversation did end abruptly then. Charles switched to a warmer, but still slightly tired tone as he looked back to the rest of you. “Well, I know you’re all ready for tonight to be over. I won’t keep you much longer. Kitty, if you could make sure that weapon you confiscated ends up locked in Hank’s lab tonight, we’ll see about it later. Given that those men would not need something so extravagant just to dispose of other humans, I’m certain it was developed or at least purchased with our kind in mind. We will learn what we can.”

She nodded in agreement before he then turned his attention to the, to this point, uncharacteristically silent Russell with a kind look. “And Russell, I appreciate you deciding to give us a second chance. You’re welcome to stay of course. Did you still wish to speak to me? I know it’s late. Don’t feel obligated to stay and talk if this is all a bit much right now. We can always go over more about the school in the morning.”

“Um...” The boy blinked, not quite ready it seemed for any of the focus to be back on him so soon. And it was only then that you realized it was Erik that Russell kept staring at as he tried to formulate a real response. Actually Erik and briefly back to Peter, that tell tale look on the boy’s face that you’d seen so many times before when people realized who Peter really was, who his father was. Russell was maybe even regretting picking on Peter earlier now.

Charles certainly hadn’t missed that though. Surely sensing all the boy’s thoughts and feelings now as he continued. “It’s alright, Russell. Yes, Magneto does stop in here from time to time. We’re old friends. Yet I hardly think you should be so concerned with him when you’ve already gotten on quite well with my stepbrother haven’t you?” Xavier was actually smiling then. “To get on the Juggernaut’s good side, if even briefly, is quite impressive I must say.”

That did seem to finally break the ice a little then as Russell looked back to Charles. “Yeah, I... I needed a prison friend. A big one.”

“He is that, certainly,” The Professor responded. “Yet to answer the other questions still running through your mind -and forgive me to read you- but of course you can absolutely train with us to better learn to control your fire powers if you’d like. And yes, you may also have a television in your room. I think that’s a reasonable request after living in less than desirable conditions with Wade for this long.”

“Yeah, there were rats and the old blind lady sells cocaine.” Russell answered so matter of factly that the rest of you, minus Charles who was evidently now fully aware of Russell’s recent memories, all just stared.

“Despite his, ah, unique flaws, I can say that Wade would never willingly let anything happen to you.” Xavier just continued. “But yes, it would likely be best to give you a bit more sanitary and less illegal living conditions. And of course this would all be voluntary, if you find you don’t like it here after all, you’re always free to go as well.”

“Cool. Yeah.” Russell agreed. Though not really sure what else to say.

“Wonderful,” Charles just looked back to Colossus and Kitty then. “Can you two please see Russell to one of the empty rooms so he may pick one out to sleep tonight? And please let Wade know of his decision to stay for now.”

Colossus spoke up though before they all walked out together, “And am I sending Wade home as well? I do not think he and Logan can be peaceable for a whole night in the same building.”

“Agreed. Like oil and water there. I would prefer not to have to repair cerebro again either, as we’d had to from his last stay with us.” Xavier looked apologetic though to Colossus. “Is it too much to ask that you offer him a ride back home tonight?”

But Russell just cut in before Colossus could respond. “Nah, Wade already called a cab to meet him back here before we left town. You can just dump him outside now. Let him be their problem.” But even Russell knew to elaborate a little. “And it’s not some random person he might scare off. It’s his friend Dopinder. But you might want to give him some money first. He never pays the guy. Wade doesn’t carry a wallet. Tightwad.”

Kitty sighed. “I’ll cover it. I have cash. Never got to eat or pay for our dinner after all.” She glanced to you and Peter briefly. “Maybe next weekend?”

“We can try,” You offered quietly.

She smiled, understanding that sentiment that you all might want to lay low for awhile after this fiasco of an evening. “I guess we’ll see how we feel. Night, guys.”

“Night.” You and Peter responded to her in unison.

When Kitty, Colossus, and Russell had left the room, you happened to glance back at the TV, though you were at least a little relieved to see the news had finally gone off and by the captions it was just some talk show host joking about whatever a bigger idiot politician had done now.

But Peter’s voice brought your attention back to him.

“Are we free to go too?” He asked cautiously, maybe even more uneasy now that it was just the four of you as he looked to his father and Charles.

The two older men exchanged a glance of their own as silence hung for a moment.

Erik sighed eventually though to break it. His voice serious, but lacking it’s usual coldness. “You can’t keep diving into everything headfirst, Peter. You’re going to get yourself killed.” He seemed to be studying his son’s face a moment. “And what are those bruises even from?”

“I, uh...fell down a flight of stairs.” Peter answered, taking a breath as if to steel himself for further scolding, obviously that admission only adding to his father’s point.

Yet you interjected before Erik could respond. Before you could help yourself, as it wasn’t fair for Peter to be singled out here. “I’m the one that told him to go to the basement.” Normally Scott was mission leader, or maybe Ororo. This wasn’t a role you were used to, but you’d take responsibility where it was due tonight. “I thought it would be safest for him to go first, to disarm them all, but-”

“But you sent him straight into an ambush.” Erik countered. And when his gaze shifted to you with those words, it was clear that even after this long, it still had an effect. An intimidation factor that you could only hope didn’t show through in your expression.

But it was Charles that came to your defense. “That’s a gross over simplification, Erik. Peter had already examined the area on his own accord moments before to no harm. There would have been no reason for them to think he couldn’t return to it.”

For Xavier to already know that level of detail, meant he’d already searched you and Peter’s minds tonight as well, just as he had Kitty about the gun. Which honestly was okay with you as it meant you wouldn’t have to really explain everything that had happened and risk making things sound even worse.

But Erik was still staring at you both, looking displeased.

Peter shifted, uncomfortable with the quiet. “Look, if you’re going to yell at me for what I did on TV, then just get it over with. It wasn’t (Y/N)’s fault. I was the one that made us stay as long as we did, and I was the one that got pissed off at what those guys were saying. It’s always like no one can believe we’re still together. Like I have to keep proving it.”

That admission actually did catch you off guard. Especially to be said here in front his father, and well in all honesty sort of stepfather that Charles was for all intents and purposes. You immediately felt you should say something, but were even further stunned when Erik beat you to it.

“Peter, for God’s sake. You may have problems, but I assure you that (Y/N) is not one of them. Quit being so dense, boy.”

You blinked, unsure if you’d actually just received a rare semi-compliment from Erik.

But Peter just rolled his eyes. “Thanks for the pep talk, Dad. Yes, I know that. I’m saying how do I make everyone else know that? Some fatherly wisdom would be great right now.”

Erik frowned, looking annoyed at Peter’s reaction. “I’ve told you before, I can’t teach you self-confidence, no one can. Though I’ve always been willing to fight for what I wanted. That’s a start.”

“Erik, no.” Charles interrupted. “Peter, we all question ourselves from time to time. But when it comes to relationships, nothing going on on the outside will matter as long as you focus on keeping things strong between the two of you. Weakness there is the only way those outside troubles can get in to break things down.”

“Oh typical, Charles. So it’s still turn the other cheek to everything else then? Pacifism is not how love is won.” Erik replied, now staring back at Xavier.

“Love is not a thing to be fought over, Erik, and neither is (Y/N). People are not trophies to be claimed.” The Professor responded, meeting Erik’s gaze easily.

“Okayyyy,” Peter said, glancing to you and the no doubt really uncomfortable expression on your face now. “I think we’re just going to go to bed now.” His voice was getting a little quicker as he touched your arm as if to usher you out with him. “We’ll be more careful next time, we learned our lesson, so sincerely sorry and humbled, good nigh-”

“Peter.” Erik called back though before you could both reach the doorway.

Peter looked back reluctantly, only to see Erik now holding up a phone.

“Do at least message your sisters tonight to tell them you’re alright. As refreshing as it is to be receiving so many calls from them this evening, it’s only you they wish to speak to.”

“Uh, sure,” Peter offered, a little surprised. “I haven’t even looked at my phone. I will. Night!”

“Good night.” You also managed, speaking back at least politely to the two men just before Peter hurried you out into the hallway.

——————————

You’d both chosen to take one of the other halls afterward, as to avoid the front foyer and any drama that may still be occurring there if Wade and Logan were still facing off. There was another set of stairs at the back of the house, and it’d been a real relief not to run into anyone else on the way as you took them up to your floor.

By the time you finally got to your bedroom, you didn’t bother to turn on the ceiling light, just switching on the lamp at your bedside end table as you sat down on the bed. You pulled off your shoes, and heard Peter’s jacket already hitting the floor before his own weight hit the bed, making you bounce slightly.

“Ugh,” He said, already barefoot and stretched out behind you laying on his back. “That was awkward right?”

“What part of the night specifically?” You questioned, throwing off your own coat into a then indiscernible pile in the darkness outside of the lamp light. Normally you were the one picking up after Peter, but you weren’t in the mood to hang up or fold anything tonight.

“Good point,” He conceded. “But I was mainly thinking of Dad and Charles. Sorry to drag you into that.”

Yeah, that had been pretty weird. “Well, Xavier was just trying to help. And I think your Dad was too...in his own way. I guess.” There wasn’t a whole lot you could add to that. Peter’s insecurities could flare up from time to time still, but he’d actually gotten a little better over the years. At some point he had finally realized you really were going to stick around. It wasn’t just pretty words and passing teenage hormones.

After you’d actually started rooming together officially, you knew there had even been some joking from your friends about Magneto one day becoming your father-in-law. But you tried not to humor any of that. You were in no hurry, and felt further commitment to that level would have to be Peter’s decision. It wouldn’t be fair to put him under that kind of pressure.

You knew he had reservations on the subject when none of his father’s marriages had ever worked out. He wouldn’t say it outright, but you were sure Peter felt there was still some sort of family curse there that he didn’t want to tempt fate with. As if making you his spouse would be the final straw and something would come to take all his happiness away.

You felt him moving a little then as he pulled his phone out of his pocket. “Alright, before I forget, group message to Wanda and Lorna...” But he paused, looking up at you with just a blank white screen on the phone. “What do you think I should tell them?”

“Peter, they’re your sisters.” You smiled, not sure why this would be a question to you. “Just say you’re fine, you’re back at the mansion, and you’re going to bed. You can always call them tomorrow.”

He made a face at that though, “What if I don’t want to call them tomorrow? They’re just going to lecture me. Oh, I know!” He smirked as if he’d thought of something clever, adding to whatever he was already typing. “Dad already fussed at me. So don’t worry about it. Wanda, tell mom the same thing. ❤️👍”

He turned the screen to show you. “Think that will work?”

“Genius.” You replied.

“Smart ass.” He grinned, but sent the message before quickly turning his phone back on silent and setting it on the other end table.

You took your own phone out your pocket, intentionally not reading the number of notifications left on the home screen as you also set it to the side before standing up to take your pants off.

You’d just slid them down, trying to step out of them when a sudden pinch to your backside almost had you stumble forward, one foot still stuck in a pants leg.

“Speaking of ass...” Peter teased, pulling his hand back before you could smack it.

“So the cannolis gave you a second wind, huh?” You turned, not surprised to see that devilish grin starting as he now looked you over while you next removed your shirt. You’d think he’d be used to this view by now.

“I was feeling hopeful, yeah,” he replied, though remaining where he was in the bed as your shirt joined your pants on the floor. “Of course I am still pretty tired,” He added, “Maybe you could help me out here?”

You raised one eyebrow as he motioned to the zipper of his jeans. Oh, so this was how it was going to be? He seemed so pleased with his idea though, you couldn’t help but be amused.

***smut starts here, scroll on to skip*** “So pitiful, my poor speedster.” You said, albeit smiling as you climbed into the bed. You straddled him gently, seeing that needful look already beginning to cloud his eyes as he still laid on his back beneath you.

You were tired yourself, and hungry still, but you’d survive until morning. This effort for some physical intimacy seemed worth it to at least end this bizarre night on a good note for the both of you.

And you knew you both wanted it. He might be making a play that he was going to make you do all the work right now, but you highly doubted he’d have the self control to not jump in once things actually got going.

You pushed his shirt up, running both your hands up the sides of his torso. Like anyone would expect for someone as fast as him, he was built lean, though there was sinew there. Just that bit of muscle, storing all that energy, ready to take off at a moment’s notice.

The room was cool. It was still winter and the high ceilings didn’t do much to keep heat near the floor. You knew your hands would be a little cold as well. So you willed just the slightest bit of your energy field from your palms, warming them as you stroked his chest. You could see the bit of bruising here and there from his earlier fall, but luckily nothing extreme.

He relaxed his head into the pillows behind him, clearly enjoying the feel even as you heard his breathing increase slightly. He liked to be petted, but you knew it would be too much of a tease for him if you focused above his waist for too much longer.

You left his shirt pushed up to bare his abdomen to you, even as your hands ran carefully back down, stopping at his belt. Never quite the typical guy when it came to fashion, it wasn’t a normal peg and hole type, but actually an old seatbelt buckle. You undid it with a click, pulling it out through the belt loops of his pants as he arched a little to take his weight off the back and fully free it.

Once that was out of the way, you unbuttoned and unzipped his jeans with little fanfare. His normally loose boxers were already a little tighter though you noticed.

He made a noise, shifting into the touch as you cupped him with your hand. You massaged the area through the fabric, feeling him gradually stiffen as you got a little more forceful.

By the time he was fully erect, it was all too simple to slip him through the now stretched open flap in the boxers.

You had been intending to stroke him now, but on a whim you decided to go another route. Something a little less predictable you hoped, but what you knew he would still like. You doubted you were all that good at it really, but he’d never complained before.

And you could tell he was surprised, you heard him take in a quick breath as you lowered your mouth down on him, sucking him as he spread open his legs for you. You couldn’t take him in too deep without gagging yourself, but you tried to make up for it by moving up and down gingerly as you used your tongue as well.

It must have been stimulating enough for him though as you felt his hand on the back of your head shortly after, and felt his hips starting to rock rhythmically against your mouth.

He gave a quiet moan, he was so very hard now, but you didn’t let up. You knew sometimes, especially if it’d been a while since you’d last had a chance to be intimate together, he may actually cum fairly quickly. But if he did, then he did. You weren’t worried about whether you got anything in return tonight. Truthfully, your heart was already pounding, the heat in you building, just because you knew he was so aroused.

It was always give and take, and there was no rule of whose turn it was at any given time.

His whole body stiffened a little and for a moment you thought that would be it. But his hand moved to your shoulder suddenly instead, pushing you back as you released him in response.

You pursed your lips as you looked back up at him, that little bit of irritation still felt on them of where they’d dragged against him.

He was already sitting up though, pulling his shirt off completely before he tossed it off the bed. “Come on, babe, clothes off please.” He breathed, his silver hair falling into his dark eyes as you moved off of him and he laid back again just long enough that he could pull off his jeans and work his erection free from his boxers before they ended up cast out into the darkness as well.

While you’d been watching him, you’d also been unhooking your bra as requested, tossing that away. Which left only your underwear before you’d slid it down your legs, flicking it off too once it’d only been left swinging from one foot. He closed the small distance between you so fast then, you were sure he’d actually just used his powers before you felt his lips against yours. Desperate almost, as his tongue pressed through immediately afterward.

You shivered, not expecting the feel of his fingers against your entrance almost simultaneously. Just two of them, moving methodically against you. The room felt far from cold now. But you were just kissing him equally as hard now as he started to push his fingers in further, testing your readiness.

By the time you trembled again from his probing, you knew you were fully wet enough. It was a mutual realization evidently as he broke the kiss, urging you to turn so your back was facing him as he moved behind you on the bed.

You understood what he wanted as he kneeled behind you. You let yourself lean down onto your elbows in the pillows, but also on your knees in the back as you felt him grab your hips from behind. You arched your back, curving your back downward to help angle yourself into him as you felt his tip pressing into you.

As wet as you were now, he only had to try a couple times before he was able to slide fully in. To the hilt so to speak as you felt his torso now pressed flush against you. Already that slight sheen of sweat was starting where your skin touched together as he began to thrust.

The bed was creaking, and you bit back a moan of your own, never quite sure how thick the walls really were in this house. It was kind of an unspoken thing that as long as precautions were taken, and the others in the house didn’t have to hear or see anything you did in the privacy of your own room, then no one would care if people coupled up. For the two of you, precautions only meant a birth control pill, not worrying about condoms any longer after several years of monogamy.

His thrusts were getting even more uneven though, which told you he was close to orgasm. But you couldn’t help but push back against him yourself, panting a little as you felt him grab and squeeze one of your breasts. He was supporting himself with his other arm as he leaned forward suddenly, still inside you as he nipped you lightly on one shoulder, then kissing the same spot before he breathed in your ear.

“How do you always feel so good?” He murmured.

As he let go of your breast, you felt his hand go back between your legs. Even though he was still buried fully in you, his fingers went back to teasing the outside. The over stimulation left you shuddering, and you knew he was trying to get you to orgasm first.

His fingers just kept moving as he started to thrust again. You loved that feeling of fullness, when he was all the way inside, but it was the added teasing of his fingers where you were most sensitive that finally sent you over the edge. Your muscles inside spasming around him then as that unmistakable burst of euphoria went through you, leaving every piece of you trembling.

He clearly felt your orgasm, only moving both hands back to your hips then. Pulling you back against him as he thrust roughly several more times, enough to get his own release as you felt his erection pulse in its own right, knowing he had then let go inside you as you felt that warmth already dribbling back out onto the bedsheets.

Even though you’d started the foreplay, he’d done most the work for the finish. Yet you still felt spent now, only rolling onto your back after he pulled out, trying not to let too much of his seed run back out of you and onto the bed.

He was still breathing a little unevenly as he left the bed only long enough to go grab a clean hand towel from the bathroom. One of those pluses of having had the mansion rebuilt back then was that so many more of the rooms now had their own bathrooms. And after he’d wiped the residue off of himself, he handed you the towel. You dabbed up the small spot on the bed, before wiping off the remainder from your skin as well, then tossing the towel unceremoniously onto the floor with everything else.

Peter turned off the end table lamp before climbing back into the bed beside you in the darkness. The only light then coming from the moon and starlight through the thin curtains at the windows.

You were both still naked, and a little bit hot as you only pulled the covers as high as your waists, knowing the room’s cool air would chill you quickly enough now that no more physical exertion was taking place.

Hot or not though, his arms went around you as he then pulled you into a spooning position in the darkness. You actually felt that he was still about half hard too as it touched against your backside again, you now both laying on your sides with your back to his chest.

***sex over, you’re safe to start reading again*** “That almost made up for this entire night,” He joked quietly, kissing the back of your neck a couple times before you felt him smile against your skin. He moved one of his hands to trail it lightly over your hip, the sensation tickling you slightly as he spoke again. His voice was soft, a true contentment in his tone. “Love you.”

That wasn’t a phrase he said often. But the both of you seemed to save the word as to never water it down. When it was said, it made it really mean something more.

You reached down for his hand that’d been playing with your hip, grasping it warmly and weaving your fingers between his. “I love you.” You said simply, no need to elaborate on what was just a fact.

He squeezed your hand a little harder, but said nothing more, you both just enjoying the touch and comfort of each other’s presence.

You moved your head a little more into the pillows, getting just right as you closed your eyes.

——————————

Your dreams faded in and out, nothing you could remember in detail though as the sunlight on your face now had you squinting. You thought of just pulling the blanket back over your head, but your brain started to register the smell of food as well. Bacon specifically as you lifted your head a little, trying to focus.

“It lives!” Peter joked from beside you, sitting cross legged on top the blankets and just in his boxers again. Two plates of food sat in front of him, the source of the smell you realized as you sat up a little, pulling the sheet up enough to cover your bare chest in the cool room.

Very rarely did he ever wake before you, and your still half asleep stare of confusion only made him smirk a little.

“I had to pee.” He said through a mouthful of food, a sausage biscuit with a large bite already taken out of it in one hand, and a video game controller pressed down into the bed with the other. His hand with the controller was blurring slightly as he moved it just fast enough to work the joy stick and buttons simultaneously. “Then I remembered they released that new DLC last night. Had to try it out. I turned the volume down though. Considerate right?”

And it was indeed silent, not the usual grunts and blasts and screams from that gory fighting game he loved so much. His character was currently comboing another into oblivion on the small TV across from the end of your bed.

Your lack of any real dinner the night before had you focusing back to the food in front of you though.

“Go on,” Peter encouraged. “I knew you’d be hungry. It’s not all for me.”

Normally you were against eating in bed, just from the crumbs and general mess it could make. You’d had the misfortune to find the sticky remnants of Twinkies and the like from Peter’s late and early snacking many times.

Yet even as you picked up one of the amazing looking sausage and egg biscuits for yourself, you wondered if anyone else was now going without. Was it stolen goods? “Where...did this come from?” You asked, voice still a little hoarse from just waking, even as you bit down hungrily.

But the implication of your question didn’t even faze him. “Oh there was plenty. Raven told Hank he didn’t know how to cook, so guess who wins? Us when he made three damn trays of these things.”

“Sounds like she had a plan.” You responded, also grabbing a couple pieces of bacon now.

“Totally.” He agreed. “And orange juice is on the end table, babe.”

You glanced to your side, indeed just noticing the glass beside you then. “Well, you’ve been busy.” But your attention eventually drifted back to him only sitting there in his boxers after you’d taken a few sips of juice. “Did anyone even see you?”

“Nah. Maybe they felt an errant breeze or two.” But he was grinning in a way that still gave you pause.

You watched him a little while longer, only feeling more and more sure before you finally offered out the accusation. “No. You did something. Something else...”

He’d already emptied his plate now, both hands on the video game controller then as he seemed to put his focus solely back to the TV screen. Intentionally of course before he grabbed the nearby remote to start turning the volume back up.

“Peter.” You spoke anyway, knowing full well he could still hear you. “Did we not just scrape by last night without any big consequences? You’re going to put that goodwill to the test already this morning?”

“It’ll be fine.” He answered. “It’s nothing.”

Your eyebrows raised a little. His ‘fine’ and yours could sometimes be completely different things. You sighed, going back to eating the food in front of you as Peter’s character liberated the head off another in a ridiculous fountain of CGI blood.

If you could just finish your breakfast before the next possible calamity-

The bedroom door absolutely rattled in its frame with the pounding on it that almost had you spilling the juice in the bed. By the time your annoyed look moved to the spot Peter had just been, the video game was already paused. Only yourself now alone with whoever was on the other side of that door.

“Just say I’m not here!”

You couldn’t even tell where the whisper came from. Peter either hiding in the closet or maybe the bathroom, they were too near each other to tell.

“I’m not even dressed!” You retorted just to him, quite literally naked as you tried to disentangle yourself from the blankets without dumping your food plate, while simultaneously setting the glass of juice back onto the end table.

Peter said nothing more, so you could only call out that you were coming as you anxiously tried to find some of your clothes from the night before. You were able to find your underwear, and the um, incriminating towel, but that was about it. Sure it’d been dark, but how on Earth anything else could have gotten much farther or under something so quickly was beyond you. You kicked the towel under the bed, and you just had to settle for Peter’s t-shirt crumpled in your path as you grabbed it up and yanked it over your head, hurrying for the door.

You still tried to tug the shirt down as far as you could though, at least covering your panties and butt you hoped before you finally pulled the door open. Pantsless, barefoot, and probably with bedhair as you stared up into the glowing red eyes of a very irritated looking, and entirely shirtless Remy LeBeau.

His expression softened just slightly at the sight of you, his lips curling into a handsome smile. But one that didn’t quite reach those crimson eyes. “Mornin’, cher...so sorry to intrude, but I need to have a few words with that boy toy of yours.”

Yet you were staring still, taking time to process the sight before you. There was black...large black streaks all across his face. It circled his eyes in a cartoon like representation of glasses. Though he already had some stubble on his face, the streaks condensed around his mouth as well, like the upturned mustache and goatee of an old timey villain. As if he should be going to tie up some poor girl to train tracks somewhere.

“Oh my God,” you breathed. Permanent marker, seriously? How old were all of you again? “Remy, I’m sorry.” You thought about saying something about how Peter had let those paparazzi get under his skin last night. But it wouldn’t matter. Not if none of these boys were in the mood to be reasonable right now.

“You know you’re not going to catch him.” Is what you finally said. “Please don’t blow up my bedroom trying.”

“And he ain’t worth my chasin’, petite. I just want to talk,” Remy insisted though, voice as smooth as you’d ever heard it as he leaned against your doorframe in only a pair of pajama pants.

But the few playing cards now flitting between his fingers told you otherwise on his supposed peaceful intentions. Yet when he saw you look down at them, another one appeared seemingly from nowhere in his other hand.

He offered it to you, “But if he isn’t man enough to show himself, at least I get the pleasure of your company, non?”

The card was the king of hearts of course as he palmed it into your hand before you could think to stop him. But you knew it wouldn’t be charged if he was handing it to you like that. You trusted him at least that much.

Yet you were quite sure he was still only trying to lure Peter out by audibly flirting with you now. And sadly, it would probably work. “Remy, can you two just save it for the danger room?” You tried again. “It’s too early, really. I was just trying to eat breakfast.”

“Well, seeing as how you’ve been ditched, I don’t see why someone like you should have to eat all alone.” He answered effortlessly, just strolling past you further into the bedroom as if there was no awkwardness in this at all.

In a moment of panic you wondered if it’d be best to just call for backup. Your cell phone wasn’t very far. Was everyone awake already? What if you just called Rogue? That’d be the most straight forward right? Oh, but you could imagine that conversation. Hey girl, come get your man out of my bedroom please? Yet she totally would. He’d be as helpless as a toddler if she decided she was dragging him out.

“You know,” Remy said, considering a little as he palmed one of the uneaten biscuits right off the tray like it was a bauble to steal. “I did think we looked good together in those pictures they printed from the beach. It’s only natural you know. When two people have chemistry, everybody can see it.”

And that was it, the final straw. You didn’t even know why you still jumped when the bathroom door flung all the way open. The window opened too, a couple cards Remy had already thrown then exploding out there harmlessly like little fireworks as Peter had redirected them outside.

Your bedsheet seemed to have a mind of its own as it ripped off the bed and tied around Gambit as well, pinning his arms to his sides as he was forced to then kneel in front of you.

Peter reappeared at your side, looking down at his handiwork as he scowled at the other man. It was a rare expression on Peter’s face, but a little more jarring for that reason.

“Apologize to (Y/N).” Peter demanded. “Or you’re going out the window next.”

But you knew Remy’s wounded pride meant there would be no such possibility of deescalation now. They were going to have to be physically separated and given a cool off period no matter what. As you considered whether to actually put a shield around one or both of them to essentially begin preparations for mutant time out, Remy was already countering back at Peter, a mocking tone rolling off his tongue.

“Alright. I’m sorry, (Y/N). I’m sorry that you got saddled with a jealous little boy who goes after rivals in their sleep rather than face them like a man. And then just hides behind that same woman he thinks they’re going to take from him, yeah?”

Oh for God’s sake! You dropped the card Remy had given you, that you’d for some reason still been holding. You powered up, trying to catch both of the guys in two of your force fields, Peter had already been in movement though. In actuality you’d only ended up shielding Remy just before Peter had kicked the field, looking as if the hit had been intended for the Cajun’s chest.

“Don’t protect him!” Peter looked to you in surprise.

“I’m protecting both of you!” You responded, then glowing white and hovering now several feet off the floor in your annoyance.

“Kinky.” A new voice spoke, followed by a sing song voice that unfortunately you did now recognize as Deadpool continued. “I see London, I see France, I see (Y/N)’s underpants!”

With your energy humming around you, Peter’s shirt you were wearing was now billowing up a little you realized. Indeed giving a full view to all those below you. You dropped back to the floor immediately, but didn’t power down, keeping the field around Remy as you turned to look at the several people now standing in your doorway.

“You know, this is exactly how those rumors start,” Ellie said in her usual dry tone, taking in the truly bizarre scene of the three of you. “Putting on some clothes might be a good first step. Or you know, at least closing the door.”

The girl otherwise known as Negasonic Teenage Warhead was never one to mince words, even to you all, her sort of superiors. Her girlfriend Yukio only stood beside her, smiling a bit sheepishly.

“Yeah, don’t mind us you little OT3, I just came back to bring Russel his stuff.” He motioned to the boy, who was now also staring at you all. “And your boss Charlie X said I had to have an escort, so I got my old buddies here Nega-angst and Yukio-chan. Oh and-”

Deadpool suddenly grabbed another man who had been standing behind them, bringing him to the front. “This is my all time best buddy Dopinder, he wanted a tour of mutant Hogwarts as well.”

“Hello.” The young man waved a bit shyly. “It is an honor to meet more of DP’s superhero allies.”

“Hey.” Peter said oddly to them after a moment, then looking back to you again. The randomness seemed to have snapped him out of his fixation on getting even with Remy at least for the moment. It now looked like he was waiting for guidance from you on what to do next.

You heard an audible sigh from Remy then as he spoke up. “I rather not destroy your sheets, cher. Truce for today?”

You glanced back to Peter first though before letting down the shield. Making sure he’d agree to untie him. Peter looked reluctant still, but eventually nodded.

And with that you powered down, your field around Remy disappearing as all the energy faded back inside you. In another instant he was completely untied, the sheet semi neatly back on your bed then. You knew some of the food had to have gone flying wherever when Peter had ripped off the bedsheet earlier in their scuffle. But you didn’t really care right now.

“Woah, woah. Is that the new MK game?” Wade just questioned suddenly, then seemingly oblivious to all else as he strode into your room as well.

Why no one had any boundaries today, you had no idea.

“Wait, we get video games too?” Russell also sounded impressed, just following.

“Some of us,” Ellie replied though, giving Peter a skeptical look. “That one might have had a five finger discount.”

Peter huffed at her, non committal on the truth of that statement though, “It’s the new one, yeah. The new DLC just added more characters too.”

You didn’t even care anymore honestly as Wade pulled off his mask and hopped immediately onto your and Peter’s bed, grabbing a controller. “Dibs on Johnny Cage, mother fuckers. Let daddy show you how it’s done.”

“Hey, I want to be Scorpion!” Russell replied, actually sounding like the fourteen year old he really was for once.

And you saw Peter was already digging out another controller from his gaming pile as he scoffed at them both. “Man, you can try. I’ll wipe the floor with you and buzzcut you down to bloody stumps with Kung Lao.”

“Dopinder, google Johnny Cage combos, stat!” Deadpool requested as his friend hurried in, dutifully sitting on the floor and pulling out a cell phone to do just that.

Remy was actually the only male in the room to not be sucked in as he gave you a little look while walking back out. “Later, petite. Sorry for real about the fuss. You know he just irks me.” He leaned in a little closer just to you though. “And I know you’re faithful. He just needs to leave me out of it. Quit readin’ dem damn gossip magazines, yeah?”

“Yes.” You agreed with a smile. A little optimism returning that maybe the two of them could be reasoned with after all. “See ya, Remy.”

He nodded, winking at both Ellie and Yukio as well before he slipped past them and out down the hall. Yukio giggled, but Ellie only rolled her eyes.

“Well, if you put some pants on, maybe there’s still some breakfast left down there. Want to go?” Ellie asked you, crossing her arms. She smirked then though, the guys now commentating and mocking one another like there was some big sporting match going on just a few feet from you. “Let Wade be Peter’s problem for a while, I think you’ve earned it.”

“Sounds like a plan.” You agreed without much hesitation. If Peter needed you, it’s not like it’d even take him two seconds to find you, even with the size of this house.

You did see him glance back ever so briefly as you dug some sweatpants out your dresser drawer and pulled them on though. You made an eating gesture and he nodded, understanding where you were going.

He also made a motion like drinking and you knew that meant he wanted you to bring him back some soda. The more sugar the better for him.

As you walked back downstairs with Ellie and Yukio, Ellie chuckled to herself a little. “You know Wade’s going to think Peter is his bff now. Better buckle up for that ride. Colossus can probably give you some pointers.”

You sighed, looking at the younger two girls. “We’ve survived everything that’s been thrown at us to this point. Could always be worse.”

“Oh yeah, it’ll get worse.” Ellie answered.

Yukio nodded, yet still smiling. “Wade is very special. And deadly.”

“Like a contagion,” Ellie added.

It still didn’t matter though. New, strange friends, or old sometimes combative friends. Gossip and rumors, or anything else. In the end you had to agree with Xavier as you so often usually did. As long as you and Peter kept strong together, none of that outside noise could ever tear you down. You had each other and that was all you needed.

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End. Thanks for reading! Art by NACCHAN96.

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