#The thoughts have been jumbling around in my head for the last few days

[resolvebound]

Reminder to myself to write a hc for Freed about physical touch and affection 😌

[futurewdclandonorris]

A Helping Hand | George Russell⁶³

Pairings: George Russell x fem!bestfriend!reader

Summary: feeling frustrated, you go to George for some aid where he offers to help you blow off some steam

Warnings: smut

A/N: goodness, this is the most I've spent on proofreading, rewriting and editing than on any of my other fics, probably because I babied this idea for a long time 💀 and probably because I was sick for the past few days that I couldn't do anything else except thinking about George taking care of me. Anyway, I hope you enjoy reading this as much as I did writing it 🥰

You were frustrated. The irritation was welling up inside you, and there was no telling why. And nothing going your way wasn’t helping either. But what it is that you always do whenever you feel like this?

You go to George.

George and you were best friends for as long as you could remember. He played enormous role in your life, in a way that you would often refer to him as an older brother. No one else even came close to being as important to you as he was. He was always there to listen when you needed to rant about something, and the two of you were just as comfortable sitting in silence as you were engaging in deep conversations. Today was no different.

You walked over to George's apartment, knowing that he wouldn't mind your unannounced visit. You knocked on the door and waited a few moments before he answered, your mind racing with all the things you wanted to vent about. The door opened, revealing George’s smiling face.

“Hey there, buddy,” he said, pulling you into a hug. “What’s got you so worked up?” he questioned upon seeing your slumped shoulders and frowning face.

“I don’t know,” you shrugged. “I just know I’m feeling a lot and it’s not good.” you walked further into his apartment, running a hand through your hair.

George followed behind you. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You shook your head, "I don't even know what's bothering me. I'm just feeling so damn… restless." and leaned against his kitchen bar.

George nodded his head, eyes fixed on your face. He knew that look and the manner in which you spoke. George had experienced this before with you. You would continue to speak until the words dried up, and he knew it was in his best interest to listen attentively. And he wanted to do just that. To be a friend and not interrupt for once your thoughts were drifting by. He loved the feeling of neediness you gave him.

So you started to spill your troubles. From everything that happened to you since you woke up to this very moment in the afternoon. He listened patiently, nodding and frowning in all the right places. You continued to talk, your words flowing out in a jumbled mess as you tried to make sense of your emotions. George listened intently, offering words of encouragement when needed. As you spoke, he moved closer to you.

It wasn’t a subtle move, you very much noticed him getting up and walking up to you, caging you in between his arms he rested on the counter behind you. He bowed his head so that his eyes were in level with yours and leaned forward, the words dying on your lips as he did so. Your faces were now only inches away, the air around you charged.

“When was the last time you got laid?” he asked.

You were taken aback by his sudden change in demeanor. “W-What?”

He took a step back, giving you space to breathe. “You, my friend, are sexually frustrated.”

You hadn't been with anyone in a while, he was right, like he always was, but “And how do you know that?” there was annoyance in your voice as you crossed your arms.

He sat down in one of his kitchen chairs, leaning on the table behind and legs spread lightly.  “How long have we been friends for?”

“Almost twenty years. Why?” you frowned, not really seeing the point of this conversation.

He gave a slight nod in agreement. “And in that long period of time you think I wouldn’t have learned your,” his gaze traveled up your body until it finally settled on your eyes, “body language?” his tongue clicked.

You swallowed hard, feeling the atmosphere between you two shift. There was definitely an undercurrent of something more, but you weren’t sure if you were ready to go there just yet.

“This-That has nothing to do with this.” you choked out.

“So you’re saying,” he moved his head from side to side. “If I offered you a solution you would say no?” his eyes found yours again and his gaze was piercing.

You couldn't help but feel a shiver run down your spine as George's eyes locked with yours. You had expected a hug or some words of comfort, not a proposition. You knew what he was insinuating, and part of you was tempted to take him up on his offer. But the other part of you was hesitant, unsure if you were ready to cross that line with him.

You had to admit, the idea was tempting. George was an attractive man, and you had always felt a certain level of chemistry between the two of you. But did you want to risk your friendship for a moment of physical release?

“I…”

Upon noticing your hesitation, George decided for you. “Come here.” he patted his thigh.

Bolts of electricity ran through your body  at his words. There was no denying that the idea of him taking care of you in that way was incredibly arousing. And before you made up your mind, your legs carried you over to him.

He took your arm, leading you in front of him. “Turn aroud. Sit down.” he instructed softly.

“On y-”

“Yes, y/n, on my lap.”

If he wanted to, he could pull you by the arms and just place you there, but he waited for you to slowly sit down yourself, resting your hands on his knees, your back to him.

“Good girl. Now,” he leaned forward, hugging your waist. “If in any moment you feel uncomfortable or just want to stop for whatever reason, I want you to tell me. Alright?”

“Okay.” you nodded, his intense stare more than you could handle.

You were familiar with being this close to George; you'd even slept in the same bed side-by-side without any issue. You had held each other before, but his touch was always comforting and platonic. This time however, something more hung in the air - an energy that made your heart race with anticipation.

“Good.” he kissed your tense shoulder.

George's hands caressed your body with practiced ease, gently running down your sides, across your abdomen, up and down your jean clothed thighs in order to help you relax. Gradually, you leaned into him, your breaths deeper. His lips smoothed over your neck and you let out an unwilling moan.

“You’re doing good.” he reassured and you nodded, affirming that you heard him.

His hands moved to the hem of your shirt, diving under to caress your stomach. They were warm, but your back arched on a sudden skin on skin contact. He stopped for a moment until you relaxed again. Moving upwards, his fingers grazed the lace of your bra before he glided his palms to cup them.

You gasped and bit your lip, surprised by the new sensation of his hands so close to your growing chest, and leaned back on him even more, your nipples hardening. You loved the way George touched you, the way he made you feel. His hands ran up and down between you and your bra, squeezing your globes. His lips found your ear, nibbling on its lobe before he spoke.

“You have a beautiful body.” he whispered huskily.

A shudder ran up your spine at the pure lust in his voice. His right hand slipped under the cup of your bra, freeing your breast. You didn’t protest, you felt good. Instead, you arched your back more, pressing your chest more against his hand. His thumb and forefinger found your nipple and pinched and pulled on it, making you moan.

George lowered his head and licked your neck, kissing it softly and nipping it occasionally. His left hand joined in the fun and massaged your other breast, pinching its nipple just as his right hand was doing. You clamped your eyes shut, enjoying the sensation of his touch.

“Sensitive, aren’t you?” he chuckled.

You leaned back once again, despite your best efforts. Now his right hand made its descend down your stomach, making you wriggle in his lap, and reached the button of your jeans. Popping it open, that’s when you opened your eyes as well.

“George,” you gulped and put your hand over his. “Are you sure about this?”

“Absolutely,” he pulled you closer, pressing his lips reassuringly to your neck. “Are you not?”

“I’m just worried what it means to us, our friendship. I don’t want to ruin it.” you finally voiced your concerns.

“You won’t ruin it, babygirl.” he smoothed over your hair. “Friends help each other out, don’t they? You can look at it like that.”

“Yes, but…” We shouldn’t be doing this… you thought to yourself.

“We can stop if you-”

“No!” you were maybe a bit too quick to cut him off. “Let’s continue. I… I like it.” you could feel the heat rush into your cheeks.

He kissed your neck, working his way up to your ear. “I’m glad. Cause so do I.” his hand went back to what it was doing.

He pulled down your zipper, but didn’t push your pants down, exposing just your panties. His hand went back to your breasts, kneading them, feeling their weight. Every now and again his hand would brush past your nipple, sending tingles down your body.

You’re breathing was growing heavier, his hands were good at what they were doing and you didn’t want it to stop. He could feel you squirming in his lap, his smirk evident even though your head was turned.

“Someone’s excited.” he teased.

“S-Shut up.” you bit your lip, embarrassed.

His fingers dipped under the elastic line of your panties, and you were glad that you decided to shave that morning. His fingers ran over your mound slowly, feeling every curve, every spot. He circled around your clit, teasing you, before he moved further down, dipping one finger in a bit before pulling it back out.

You moaned and he chuckled. “You like that?” you nodded, trying to contain your moans. “You want me to continue?” you nodded again, too aroused to speak.

His fingers dipped deeper inside your folds, feeling the warm, wet sensation. When his fingers reached the bottom, he started to rub your entrance, pressing just a bit, sending pleasurable sparks through your body.

“Mhm,” he moaned into your ear, “my babygirl likes that.”

“Yes.” you shook your head, agreeing.

“Tell me.” he demanded.

“Yes, I like it. I want it.”

His finger pushed a bit further inside, and you bit your lower lip, unable to keep quiet. “You want what?” he asked in a low voice.

“I want it.” you said in a higher pitched voice, trying to sound like a grown woman. “I want your fingers inside of me.” you blushed.

“You want more?”

“Yes. Please.” you ground onto his finger, your hips following his thumb’s rhythm.

He pulled his hand out of your pants and you audibly expressed your dismay at the lack of contact. He responded by placing his hands on your hips and forcing you up off the chair. Tugging your jeans down, you stepped out of them and he was quick to pull you onto his lap once again. With a nudge from his knee, your thighs opened into a desirable position. His arm was securely locked around your waist, making sure that you wouldn't move away or slip off his lap.

“Now,” he played with your panties, pushing them aside. “You said you wanted more?”

“Yes, George. Please, George.” you whined.

“Only cause you said please.” he smirked and you could feel his teeth graze your skin.

His finger entered you again, slowly, stretching you, moving only an inch or so before pulling out again. When he felt that you were ready for more, he rhythmically started to finger you, gauging your reaction. His finger pushed a bit further in, making you squirm. He pulled it back out, a bit of your juices clinging to it before he thrust it back in. You gasped, feeling the full sensation of his finger inside of you. He added another finger, and you moaned, squirming on his lap, feeling so full. Your breathing had turned into moaning, echoing through the empty apartment in which you were in.

"Shh, babygirl, it's alright. You're doing good.” George’s free hand tangled in your hair, pulling it back, your exposed neck bared to him. He nibbled on it, biting and sucking, loving your reactions.

“Just, please, more.” you begged him.

“I don't think you're ready for that yet.”

His fingers became more insistent inside you, pushing deeper and deeper. He rubbed your g-spot, making your moans turn into pants.

“No, no, no, no.” you panted. “Please, just a bit more.”

“Would my babygirl like to come already?”

“Yes, please, I’m so close.” you said, almost crying, needing to come.

“Let me hear you say it.”

“George, please. I want it. I need it. Please.” you begged.

“God, I didn’t think hearing you beg would be such a turn on.” he confessed, his voice a deep rumble.

“Please, I need it. I need to come. I love it when you touch me like that. Please!” you were almost screaming by the end.

He went back on rubbing you, his fingers moving faster and faster. Slipping his thumb a few times inside you while his fingers were busy doing you, the other hand clamped on your hip for support. His thumb pushed in deeper, your juices coated it and he rubbed your g-spot with it, making you squeal.

“Yes, yes, yes, yes.” you said over and over again, panting.

“Come for me.” he hissed and his other hand wrapped around your throat, holding you gently.

You didn’t even need his encouragement, your whole body was aching for release. His fingers moved faster, rubbing your g-spot, his thumb pressing hard against it. You were soaked, his fingers gliding inside you. You moaned, louder than before, mumbling incoherently.

Your hips bucked on his lap and he held you in place, his fingers continuing their assault on your body. You were his toy, his play thing, and you enjoyed it more than you should have. You didn’t care anymore, you were drowning in pleasure, letting it consume you.

Lights burst behind your eyelids when you came, biting hard into your lip, muffling your screams. Your whole body relaxed from the pleasure, your arms giving out and you would have fallen if he had not held you. You leaned against him, recovering from your orgasm. Your head was laid on his chest and all you could hear was his breathing, slowing down.

When the orgasmic waves subsided, you became aware of your surroundings again and blushed.

“Th-thank you.” you stammered, chest still rising and falling visibly.

“You’re welcome.” he kissed your temple. “Feeling better now?”

“Yes.” you nodded.

“Glad I could help.” he said, his fingers playing with your hair, combing them through.

“You did, but George… This can’t happen again.” you finished, standing up to find your jeans. It was just an excuse to put some physical distance between you for you don’t think you could get the last part over your lips if you were still sitting on his lap.

“Oh,” was all he said. You couldn’t determine was he disappointed or the realization hit him.

“We are friends and I want it to stay that way. You are too important for me to lose over... such thing.” you zipped up your pants.

“I understand.” he said, his voice not betraying his true feelings.

You had expected it to be hard to say it, but it didn’t feel like a lie at all, it felt like the truth. It felt like the right thing to do.

“Thank you.”

He meekly nodded. “Do you want to stay over? We can watch tv or something…” he trailed off.

“Yeah,” you breathed. “Yeah, I’d like that.”

“Okay.” he smiled and you smiled back.

You spent the rest of the evening wrapped in blankets on his couch, laughing as you watched bad television shows and poking fun at the characters and plots. Between you two was no uneasiness; you were laughing together like earlier events hadn't happened. And that moment looked like a promise that, no matter what, nothing will ever change between you two.

Or so you thought...

Next part

[ann1-wr1tes]

Tiring Exams

Synopsis: You are dead set on studying for your finals that you don't notice when your boyfriend calls you...(I suck at summarizing)

Warnings: None!

Word Count: 1,339

A/N: I dug up this old fic I wrote like last year. Hopefully this somewhat makes up for my lack of content and my nonexistence on this blog lmao-

----

You narrow your eyes at the paper in front of you. Your mind seems to be running so quickly but also somehow not at all? If that was even possible. You just focuses your eyes on the words that were on the paper in front of you and you swore this must've been your fifth time rereading this one sentence, but for some reason your brain just wouldn't put any of it together. None of it was sticking like it should!

You let out an exasperated sigh and rub your eyes and head tiredly. These damn final projects and exams were going to be the death of you. You also thought that if you had to reread this sentence one more time…you may just combust. Your mind just felt like it was bursting at the seams with overwhelming and frustrating thoughts. But alas, that was what exams were all about right?

You take a deep breath and look at your wall for a moment. Your eyes needed to look at something that wasn't a stark white piece of paper, covered in a jumble of words that you for some reason couldn't read or understand. You take a few moments to clear your mind and then you finally look back down at the paper and you reread over the words, this time they somewhat stick.

Your eyes continue to scan over the rest of the article and suddenly your phone is vibrating. You can feel the vibration going through the table and you are snapped out of you trance when you see the contact picture of your boyfriend on the screen of your phone.

You frown. Oh, how you wished that you could answer so badly. What you would give to hear Leon's voice right now but with a sad sigh you decline the call and toss it onto your bed. You couldn't have any distractions…..you had to finish this.

Leon felt his heart pick up just a little bit when you didn't answer his call. He knew that it was normal for people not to answer calls. Everyone had a life, you included so maybe you were just busy. Just for extra measure though, Leon made sure to leave a voice mail, telling you to call him back just so he could check in on you and say hi.

Maybe it was for the best anyways. He knew you had been busy lately studying for finals and he himself was busy with work, so no worries. That's what he tried telling himself.

Though Leon couldn't help it. After the events of Raccoon City, then Spain and so on, he didn't like to leave you alone for too long. He was always calling you, checking in on you, making sure everything was okay and that you didn't need anything. Even now, when he was always busy, he still tried his hardest to make time to just talk to you. To just hear your angelic voice that he adored so much.

But you were busy right now. No problem.

After that he busied himself with looking at files, documents, doing loads and loads of paperwork that practically bored him to death but at least he wasn't getting thrown around or hunted by B.O.W.S or zombies.

Little did Leon know, that right now you were also drowning in boredom.

Later in the day, he was about to go home and he still hadn't hear from you. As much as he tried to reassure himself that you were fine, he felt nervous. Usually you would have called him by now, or at least send him a text saying what you were doing or how you were, but he had gotten nothing from you and it was nearing dinner time.

Right when he got out of work, he immediately grabbed his phone and dialed your number as he made his way out to the parking lot to hop on his bike. He dialed your number and it just rang. You didn't pick up. To Leon, that was a big red flag and he decided that right when he got on his bike, he was gonna stop by your place to make sure you were okay.

He made sure to zoom over to your place as quickly as he could and with baited breath, he parked in your driveway and knocked on your door.

No answer.

He could feel his heart rate quicken as he knocks again and listens for any sounds on the other side. He doesn't hear any movement or talking coming from the other side and even worse, he doesn't hear the television going. It was silent and that did not sit well with him.

Leon didn't bother to knock again. Instead he bent down and lifted up your doorstep mat where he knew you kept the spare key to your house. Leon snatches it off the ground and is quick to unlock your front door and he rushes in, almost forgetting to close your door.

He calls out for you a few times, but there's still no response. That's when his eyes dart around your apartment, searching for signs of maybe a break in, or something gone wrong but everything is fine. Nothing is out of place, nothing seems to be out of the norm so that's when he rushes upstairs.

He opens your bedroom door and freezes. His heart rate is beating practically a mile a minute and he lets out a quiet breath of relief when he sees your smaller form, curled up in your bed fast asleep with numerous plushies and stuffed animals that he had gotten you.

Gosh he was just so worried. What if something happened to you? Or if you had gotten hurt? No…no…its okay, you are okay. You were just sleeping he tells himself. He takes a deep breath and quietly closes the door behind him as he glances at your table.

On your table lays all your project papers and even your laptop that is still halfway open and opened up to a tab that is full of the work that you had been doing all day. No wonder you were practically passed out. Seems like a lot of your energy was used on finishing those stupid exams and projects.

With a sigh he shuts your laptop and glances back at your sleeping form. It made his heart flutter a bit in his chest. You looked beautiful. Stunning even. It was just the raw look of peace on your face as you snoozed away, huddled up in a pile of blankets and stuffed animals. It was all quite adorable and Leon couldn't stop the smile that carved its way onto his face as he stepped a bit closer, slipping out of shoes and sitting them on the floor, next to your bed. He then shrugs off his leather jacket as well and rests against your bedpost.

As quietly as he could, he neared your bed and gently grazed your cheek with his thumb. It was just a little reminder to himself that you were okay and were in fact right there in front of him.

Now as sneakily as Leon can, he pulls away some of the blankets and slowly slips in behind you. You can feel a sudden warmth press up against your back and a big pair of sturdy, strong arms wrap around you from behind and pull you closer. Even in your sleep ridden mind, you know its Leon.

You shuffle a bit, not fully waking up but to where you are half asleep. You turn your body towards Leon and you grasp onto him, nuzzling your face into his neck with a sleepy sigh.

"You sure did tire yourself out, huh sweetheart?" Leon whispers gently. He laughs softly when you give him an airy whine as you nuzzle closer into him.

His hands trail up your back and he runs his fingers through your hair softly. It was moments like these where he just thought everything was perfect.

[vixen7243]

Lurking in the Shadows Pt.4

Husband!John Price x AFAB!Reader | Obesessed!Ghost x AFAB!Reader

Masterlist | Part 2 | Part 3 | Part 4

Tag list 🖤: @lazybean145

MDNI!!!

It had been a few days since you'd last seen Simon, the morning after the three of you 'connected' on the couch he was out of bed and gone. Talking with John on whether you had over stepped or pushed him to far when guiding him to pleasure him, John comforted you, assuring you everything was okay. Little hard to believe when he wasn't answering your texts or calls neither John's and John hadn't seen him at the base either. Pacing around the house, making jumbled texts of apologizes to him you bundled up on the couch on the phone with John. Jumping when the front door opened you gasped running and wrapping your arms tightly around Simon's stomach afraid he would leave otherwise, "Oh my god, Simon!" Tears sliding down your cheeks you looked up at him, "I'm so sorry Si, I'm sorry." Uncontrollably you rambled, about forcing him, making him uncomfortable, anything and everything you could think of that might have been the reason for him to leave without a word and literally ghost the both of you.

"Luv, woah, luv breath." He cupped your cheeks stepping all the way in with you kicking the door closed he pulled you into his chest stroking your hair. "Stop. Stop apologizing luv, just relax, breath for me." His voice was so calm, tone level, breathing in deeply you relaxed into him tightening your arms when he moved to pull away. "Come on luv, lets go sit down." Walking with you to the couch you crawled into his lap sniffling.

"I'm sorry Simon, if I over stepped, made you do something you weren't comfortable or ready with? Anything, I'm so sorry, I never wanted you to leave. Not like that."

"Oh luv, listen okay.” Nodding your head, you absentmindedly set your phone onto the coffee table forgetting that you were on the phone with John, who listened to the two of you talk. "Alright, I'm sorry for leaving the way I had, I wasn't uncomfortable to be honest luv, although I had hoped that Cap would be here, I know he'll be out late tonight. Everything was just a surprise to me, I'd never done any of that before, never thought I would or even thought I would be interested." He said wiping your tears away. Laying a soft kiss to your cheeks and eyes he looked into your eyes. "I should've stayed, but I needed some time."

You sighed nodded, "We should've talked it over before hand, we just acted, that is on us." You said slowly pulling off his face mask, "We'll talk about everything, boundaries, limits and comfortabilities and everything." Simon kissed you slowly, nodding against you holding you against him.

"I wasn't mad, just confused." He still sounded confused, even to John. You looked into his eyes cupping his cheek, feeling him lean into your hand you rested your forehead against his.

“I’m happy you came back, I was so worried, you complete John and me.” If only you could feel how whole that made Simon as his heart pounded in his chest, your soft hand cupping his rough cheek. Slowly falling back into the couch with Simon nestled against your chest you kissed every inch of his face combing your fingers through his hair massaging his scalp, his hands squeezing and rubbing any and all skin he could get his hands on while your sweet, soft voice cooed gentle praises into his ear, his mind melting as his heart and soul started to become even more consumed by you. He never thought this could become a reality for himself during those long lonely nights, his body craving to be closer to you, aching to feel your serene touch, pained at not hearing your loving words not being directed at him but at your husband. Who, was still listening, now rushing to try and finish his work, put the fact that in a week he and the lads will have to leave for a few months on the back burner of his mind.

The moment between you and Simon stretched on forever, the world around the two of you blacked out, the touches between the two of you building to a needy touch. Turning his head he slowly pushed himself more up over you, kissing you back, soft kisses becoming desperate and full, your lips mindlessly moving and connecting with him, your bodies already know how to form to the other, binding and blending your limbs, where one started and the other ended was a blur. Lazily you each removed the other’s clothes, the wet sound of kissing and huffed moans passed between the two of you, your pussy already drenched and sticking to his abs as he made you grind against him. Whimpering at the stimulation to your clit you tried grabbing at him, only for him to laced his fingers with yours and pull your arm up over your head (like the gif) kissing you smiling as you started whining about wanting to be filled by him.

As much as he adored giving you what you want and desire he couldn’t help but be a bit selfish in wanting to hear you saying and beg him for more, needing him, wanting him. He’d wanted you for so long hearing you even if for a moment beg and plead how much you want and need him he felt happy, carefully easing himself into you he groaned heavily in your neck at the tightness. Gasping, you arched up into him, legs spreading as much as possible to make room and accommodate his size, you incoherently babbled as he slowly thrusted into you. The sloppy mess of your blended drool slid down your cheek much like the slick spreading on your thighs and his groin. The sloshing and wet slapping of skin had you dumbing down enraptured by the pleasure and feeling of Simon enveloping you, covering you completely with his body.

The thought that John will get home later, the couch a complete mess of yours and Simon’s fluids staining it no doubt, the house smelling of sex, and the two of you, hopefully, still pawing and fucking into each other like hormonal teenagers had you cumin around him making him grunt from how tight you were getting and then the spasming of your walls trying to milk his balls. Huffing he started kissing and sucking on any space of skin that he could reach all over you without having to pull out, his thrusts even slower than before, stretching out your blissful orgasm. Your moans quiet against the wetness between your thighs, Simon sitting up pulling you fully against his hips, “Ready for me to fill this pretty cunt?”

“God, yes please, Si I need you.” Grunting when he started pounding into you, the breath feeling as though it was being punched from your lungs. Whining out when the head of his dick would push into your cervix, his shaft rubbing against your gummy spot making your legs wrap tightly around his waist, toes curl and fingers scratch down his forearms trying to ground yourself as you felt his cock twitch. Crying out you came again around him your walls clenching tightly milking him forcing him to cum, his hips didn’t relent though, they continued to pound into your full cunt.

The night continued like that, Simon overstimulating the both of you before John got home. Who, in which, walked through the door and sure enough the swift smell of sex hit him making him walk into the living room to see Simon give one last weak thrust into you with a broken whimper, both your eyes tear filled, bodies shaking, breathing labored. Simon fell back into the arm of the couch, his dick slipping out of you easily making you whine at the loss and empty feeling. Shrugging his coat off he smiled when you looked over at him, dazed and fucked out. "Hi darling." Simon turned his head and looked at John turning his body and gave him a full view of your cunt, overflowed with his cum, cunt and couch a mess with him.

"Hi honey, welcome home." You said stretching out eyes closed, oblivious to the shared look between John and Simon. After a few moments of silence, a gentle kiss was laid on your forehead, the familiar feeling of John's beard brushing against your skin before it was gone just as quickly as you had felt it. Laying there a few moments longer you felt relaxed and sated before holding your breath when you heard something like a sucking, opening your eyes you peaked down and rather quickly you felt turned on at the sight biting on your lip.

John was kneeled before Simon, between his legs, his lips wrapped around Simon's dick, one hand holding the base while the other rested on his shaking thigh. John's eyes were focused on Simon, watching as his eyes were squeezed closed, groans and quiet curses falling from his lips before he would look down, watching as the older man practically cleaned his dick of your fluids and mixed with his own cum. Slowly sitting up more you let one hand slip between your thighs, fingers easily sliding over your clit a quiet strangled whimper muffled behind your closed lips. Shuddering when both men looked over at you, you couldn't help but to slide two fingers into your stuffed cunt gasping when John pulled your ankle dragging you to them. As he lifted up from Simon's cock, the audible pop made you look down and see that Simon was hard again. John had set you into Simon’s lap, who helped hold you to his chest, John spread your legs to either side of Simon’s thighs. He watching as Simon’s cum slid out of your pussy and down dripping onto Simon’s dick, almost like frosting, the sight making him lick his lips before leaning back down and sucking Simon’s cock back into his mouth, the groan ringing in your ears before your moan sinked up with him when you felt John’s fingers dipping into you.

“Shit.” Drawing your fingers into his hair you smiled when he looked up at him, before you pushed him deeper down Simon thrusting your hips to meet his fingers. Even through the overstimulation you felt a new hunger at the sight of your loving husband going down on your lover. Simon’s hands covered yours, the both of you moving John’s head, Simon grunting against your shoulder teeth grazing your skin making you shiver. “Fuck, cap, deeper.” The broken strain in Simon’s voice made you whine and gasp as he started thrusting up to meet John’s mouth.

Trying to fight the urge to close your legs around John’s head you moaned as he slide a third finger in working you to another orgasm. Feeling over whelmed and delirious from the pleasure you felt your brain just melt and succumb to both men, “Daddy.” Over Simon’s guttural grunts and John’s moaning they both heard you quiet call, making Simon draw one hand up to your breast squeezing and playing with your nipple while John used his thumb to press on and rub your aching clit. Pulling on John’s hair you felt yourself propelling towards an orgasm as you cried out, Simon whined beneath you as John plunged down, his nose in the trimmed blonde pubs feeling as Simon’s dick twitched in his throat before ropes of cum was shooting down his throat.

You squirted making John pull up and cover your pussy with his mouth humming as you shook whining incoherently about the overstimulation. As you and Simon huffed trying to come down, while John got up undoing his belt and pants your dazed eyes locked onto his hands watching him, needy for more of him, you let out a surprised squeal when Simon locked his arms under your knees and made you lay on him as he went to the side and held you open for John. “You got one more in you for me darling?” You couldn’t help the way your cunt clenched around nothing while he got between yours and Simon’s spread legs.

Part of you wanted to ask if he was questioning you or Simon, but the glint in his eye as he was dragging his gaze over your body told you your answer. “Yes daddy.”

As he slowly swiped the head of his cock along your slit he smiled, “My good girl.” Shifting your hips to try and get him to just enter you, you moaned at the feeling of his tip pushing at your entrance. “Hold her tight.” Before Simon could say anything John rammed into you, his thrusts taking your breath away, quickly finding his rhythm as you loudly moaned practically screaming from the pleasure, Simon pulled your knees all the way to your chest making John plough deeper into you, all his weight pressing you tightly between him and Simon making it impossible for you to even squirm.

Feeling full and overstimulated like never before your brain couldn’t register or gather that as John was thoroughly fucking into you he was also gently caressing Simon’s cheek with one hand before he laced his fingers with the man holding your legs up. The moment between the two soft and sweet even though your porn worthy moans, sloshing dripping cunt was beautiful background noise to their unspoken moment.

Simon, looking up at John felt so overwhelmed, he’d known for a very long time he was over obsessed with you, unhealthy so but he never cared. He’d fantasized about having you, loving you and claiming you, but now John was making a mess of his brain, he’s found himself attracted to men before, confused and shoved the feeling aside never to dwell on those feelings but now John was remixing the pot. Looking up at him, Simon felt something swelling in his chest at the sight of his own cum on John’s lips and drying on his beard, the down right desire and new need to some how claim John just as much as he could claim you, over ran Simon.

None of you could hold back your grunts moans or whimpers, wiggling an arm free you found Simon’s hand and laced your fingers with his squeezing every time John’s shaft rubbed against your sweet spot. Johns hand still sweetly caressing Simon’s cheek, Simon tilted his head to kiss and nip by your ears his grunts making your cunt clench. Being filled by your amazing husband and your lover grunting in your ear made you feel like you were in heaven. “John, I’m going to cum.” You whine feeling your muscles tightening, walls fluttering as his pace started faltering at the sensation, already spent you tried to wait for your husband but as soon as his thumb rubbed over your clit, you cried out, legs trying to kick out, eyes closed tightly and body shaking violently. If Simon hadn’t of tightened his grip on you, you would have surely fallen right off him.

John grunted pushing fully against you, his dick twitch against you, constricting walls, huffing as he halted gathering himself as he slowly pulled out of you and wat he’d as your pussy started clenching around nothing, a pretty sight of his and Simon’s mixed cum slipping out of you and dripping onto Simon’s twitching, spent cock.

Making his way to the kitchen ha grabbed a few hand clothes and cups of water, sitting in the coffee table he wiped you down as you still laid on Simon humming happily playing with Simon’s fingers. When he finished he helped you sit up and onto the couch handing you a cup of water, your fingers wrapping around it slowly chugging from the glass as John kissed your forehead before resting a hand on Simon’s shoulder pushing him to lay back down gently. Just as gentle as John was with you, wiping you down and massaging your limbs he repeated the process with Simon. The sight making you smile sweetly and feel warmth spread in your chest, and when John was done, Simon sitting up reaching for the second glass you tried to hold back to little breath as John lightly grabbed the side of Simon’s neck and pulled him forward a gentle chaste kiss between the two.

John was slow in pulling back, making sure the kiss was light and could stop if Simon was uncomfortable. But Simon pushed forward exploring the feelings swimming in his chest as he tasted John, both men humming at the quickly adapted rhythm of their bodies with each other. You were in awe, they looked even more handsome, caught by surprise when Simon and John reached out for you and pulled you towards them, John taking your glass while Simon guided you into their kiss, what started off as a sweet moment between the two turned into a clash of teeth and tongue when you joined. Settling in Simon’s lap as their hands massaged your hips and thighs you melted in their grasp high off their love.

You weren’t sure when you all pulled apart but you wrapped your arms snuggly around Simon’s shoulders as he carried you up to your room snuggling in behind you as John made his way in laying with the two of you.

“We leave in a week.”

Freezing you looked at John, if there was ever a way to kill the mood and make anxiety cover you like a blanket it, John did it. “Are you serious?”

“I’m sorry darling.” He kissed your forehead, you could feel Simon’s lips moving slowly over your shoulder blades. Sometimes you wondered how you could do this, when he’s gone you feel like a ghost of yourself (Simon would laugh and you know it), you struggled to not think of the worst when he’s gone, body always aching because a piece of your soul was missing every time he left. And now Simon? You could already feel your heart breaking into bits in order to give Simon anything and everything you could that you hadn’t already given to John. Now they were both leaving and you were going to be nothing without them, your anxiety and fear will bubble up and over run you while they are gone. Trying to pull John closer as you scooted ever close to Simon without fusing your bodies together you tried to block it from your mind choosing to ignore his warning. It mostly felt like a threat, always did, you hated it.

Through the silence your men could feel the turmoil in you and followed you in squeezing you between them letting the topic end there. You’d fallen asleep not long after, letting the fact that the night was still good, even if John had to put a sour twist to the ending. Simon still came home to the both of you, he’s excepting both you and John, and you were feeling whole in their arms.

With the following week you spent every slipping moment with them, whether together or alone, you wanted to soak in their attention and love, burning every sweet, heated touch into your body. You let them leave marks all over you. Soap questioning how once when he ran into you and Simon at the market what was going on, why wasn’t he invited over. You couldn’t help but to blush, he was a handsome man and to think of the things that you guys were doing and for him to ask to be invited next time made you hold back the giggle threatening to escape as Simon huffed, and when you two were alone back at home he thoroughly fucked the giggles from your throat asking if you were that much of a slag that you would let Johnny fuck you like this.

Standing on the front porch watching them drive off you felt more anxious with both men that have your heart leave for a few months. John reassured you that they'll be back before you knew it. You just couldn't help holding your hands to your stomach, the nagging feeling that you should've told them this morning about the stupid stick you peed on and what it told you. As John's truck reached the end of the drive way, your feet made a mad dash carrying you to them, making John break and both men get out worried as they watched a few tears fall down your cheeks.

"Wait, please."

"Darling, what's the matter? It's going to be ok-"

"I'm pregnant!" The choked confession had you pawing at them for dear life, sniffling, "I took a test this morning and another because I didn't believe it but... I am. I'm scared." You whispered looking down, fear gripped your insides, John and you planned for kids but neither of you were sure of what Simon wanted. What if he didn't want it? What if it's his and John gets mad? What if John changed his mind?

"Really?" Looking up you sucked in a breathe as both men were smiling, "Oh baby, fuck!" John wrapped his arms around you and lifted you up kissing your cheeks, eyes and finally lips squeezing tightly before setting you down gently, "Sorry, was the too tight?"

Before you could answer Simon kissed you, his hand resting over yours on your stomach, "You're going to look so fucking sexy round with our baby when we get home." The quiet, rumbling admiration had you tingling and light.

"Promise you both will come back home to me." You whined as they sandwiched you between them their hands resting on top of our stomach, all of your guy's fingers laced together.

"We will." They promised, giving you sweet lasting kisses before leaving.

---

Upon their return, they pampered you and took care of everything, John admitting that he put in for retirement, Simon still staying listed on. When Kyle, his girl and Johnny came over one day for a football game and saw that you were pregnant John and Simon came out that Simon was now part of your guys relationship. Which had Johnny thoroughly loosing his mind while Kyle and his girl gave their congrats. You giggled as Johnny pouted about being left out only for Simon's possessive side to kick into over drive and be a thorough burrier between him and you. Through your pregnancy, Kyle's girlfriend was a steady visitor as well as Johnny, to your surprise, but he was admittedly feeling lonely and was trying to weasel his way in only to be shut down by Simon.

When the baby came, Johnny found himself a nurse that had you rolling in laughter as she ordered him around and he all but was practically wagging his tail at every order. You, John and Simon lived openly and contently raising your children. You were happy that John all but forced Simon from his shadows, your guy's love bleeding into each other, tying you all together. None of you wouldn't change anything.

[munson-blurbs]

Chapter 1: Got the News Today, Doctor Said I Had to Stay

Collaboration with the fabulous @corroded-hellfire

Series Summary: Based on the Jonas Brothers song of the same name. You and Eddie share a hospital room in the wake of Hawkins' turmoil, striking up an unlikely friendship that could lead to much more.

Chapter Summary: When you're stuck in the hospital after the Hawkins "earthquake," you're surprised to find comfort in your new roommate, Eddie Munson. But when you find out that your injuries may compromise your dreams, the cheery façade threatens to come crashing down.

Warnings: eventual smut (18+ only, minors DNI!), Eddie survives the Upside Down, hospital, mentions of surgery, controlled use of pain medication

WC: 3.9k

A/N: There will be six chapters to this series, one for each Jonas Brothers album. Try to spot the Easter eggs we've planted throughout!

Divider credit to @firefly-graphics

“I said, get this murderer out of my room!” A shrill voice from across the hall startles you from your sleep. The digital clock on the bedside table reads 7:05, but you can’t be sure if it’s morning or evening. The bright lights of Hawkins General Hospital have your internal clock all jumbled, and the constant barrage of nurses checking on you certainly doesn’t help. 

“He should be locked up in prison or rotting on death row, not using precious resources that could be used on law-abiding citizens!” the shrieking woman continues, and you grimace as your head throbs. It seems like the pain never ceases; it only travels around your body. You’ve been here for two days, and you have more questions than answers. 

There’s quiet for a few moments before the door to your room swings open and a second bed is being wheeled in, more IV lines hooked up to the poor patient than you’ve got going on. A nurse pulls the curtain separating the two sides of the room before you can get a look at whoever is lying in the bed. 

“Well, that was a record,” a male voice says from the other side of the curtain. “How long before that one freaked out? Six minutes?”

No one answers the man, but you can hear nurses and orderlies setting up any equipment the patient would need. 

“Don’t blame them,” a woman eventually mumbles, moving a machine over. “Kid killed a cheerleader and then fled the scene. I wouldn’t wanna bunk with him, either.”

A new pair of footsteps joins the crowded room, but this time it’s just your nurse, Mandy, coming in to check on you. She’s a pretty blonde woman, and though she’s usually smiling, her lips are puckered into a pout. 

“I know this is far from ideal,” she says softly, checking your vitals and marking notes on her chart, “but we’ll have people in here making sure nothing happens, okay?”

“I think she’s pretty harmless, just loud,” you lightly joke, assuming that Mandy’s referring to the banshee across the hall. “Worst thing she’ll do is trigger a migraine.”

She shakes her head. “No, hon. I’m talking about your, uh, new roommate. Edward Munson.”

Well, that explains the whole murderer outburst. Still, you can’t help but roll your eyes. “Eddie? I went to school with him. Guy couldn’t even be bothered to turn in his part of a group project; I highly doubt he could pull off a murder.” You’d think he would have had something done, considering it was his second time taking O’Donnell’s senior English class, but he’d shown up empty-handed, leaving his poor partner scrambling at the last minute. 

Mandy nods, looking a little relieved herself. Maybe the thought of her having to be his nurse had been eating at her. 

“Is he awake?” you ask. You can only assume he’s not, because the Eddie Munson you remembered would never have been quiet for this long. 

“Sleeping,” Mandy says. “How are you feeling? Do you need anything?”

“Um.” You wrinkle up your nose as you think, a sharp pain taking that moment to shoot down your leg. “When can I get some more pain medication? And food?” 

Going through the papers in your chart, Mandy’s eyes scan lines of writing until she comes to the answer she needs. “You’ve got about forty-five minutes until I can give you your next dose. Luckily, dinner should be here quicker than that.” 

“Okay,” you say with a sigh, sinking back against your pillows. 

After another round of pain meds, you’re able to drift off into a light sleep. You don’t have dreams on the medication; you’re simply floating in a haze of pinks and purples. Perhaps the dreamlessness is a good thing, considering the memories buried deep inside your unconscious mind. Your roommate is not so fortunate. 

“No! Stop!” Eddie whimpers from the bed next to you, startling you from your sleep. You can see through the translucent curtain that he’s trying to thrash, but his injuries limit his movements. “Henderson, help me! Get me out of here!” 

“Hey,” you whisper, but when he cries out again, you raise your voice slightly. “Eddie, wake up!” 

“I won’t run away, didn’t run away, gotta save Chrissy,” he mumbles, still trapped in his nightmare. “Don’t let me die. Don’t wan’ die.” The urgency in his tone falters, and you realize that he’s crying. 

“Eddie, you’re alive!” you call out to him, wishing you had the strength to walk to him and shake him awake. “You survived the earthquake, okay? But you gotta wake up!”

You watch as he jolts up involuntarily, groaning loudly as pain blooms throughout his torso. “Fuck,” he moans, clutching his ribs with one arm. “Wha—where am I? Oh, shit.” He lays back down as the realization sets in. He tries to choke back a sob, inadvertently sending himself into a coughing fit. 

“Here,” you call out to him, grabbing the cup of water on your bedside table. “Can you open the curtain and reach?”

Eddie’s able to yank back the cloth fabric, but neither of you can move close enough for him to grasp onto the cup. The two of you are confined to hospital beds, arms outstretched pathetically just to pass a glass of water. The scene is so absurd that you have to laugh. 

“You think—cough—this is—cough—funny?” Eddie asks, but his grin indicates that he also finds it amusing. “I survived the Up—earthquake, and—cough—now I’m gonna die from—cough—lack of water?”

“‘M sorry,” you manage between peals of laughter. “I’m just imagining how ridiculous we’d look to someone passing by.”

Eddie uses his last bit of strength to lunge, finally securing the cup and guzzling down the water. “Thanks, um…” He cranes his neck to see your name written on the whiteboard above your bed. “Oh, shit! Did we go to high school together?”

You nod. “We did. I graduated last year. We had Mrs. O’Donnell’s English class together.”

He wrinkles his nose at the mention of his least favorite teacher. “Ugh, yeah. I mean, not ugh that we had a class together; ugh at O’Donnell,” he blabbers. “And an extra ugh for me having to take that class again this year.”

“I thought a certain metalhead was missing from graduation,” you tease. 

“Aw, you noticed?” Eddie’s smirk makes you laugh, the pain meds probably adding to your bubbly mood. 

“Well, no one caused a commotion or flipped off old man Higgins, so yeah,” you say. “And there was a distinct lack of Black Sabbath blaring through the parking lot.”

It’s Eddie’s turn to laugh. “Gotta stay inspired, y’know? I don’t want to be one of those musicians who has someone write their shit for them. It makes it less real, or whatever.” 

You raise your eyebrows. “You write all of Corroded Coffin’s music?” you ask incredulously.

Eddie nods. “Well, me and the rest of the guys—wait,” he pauses, eyes narrowing with suspicion, “you know the name of my band?”

“Mhm,” you pick at the itchy wool blanket draped over your legs. “You played at the middle school talent show. I was in seventh grade, so you must’ve been in eighth.”

He doesn’t say anything for a bit; he just studies your face until a huge grin forms from cheek to cheek. “You’re the dancer!” he exclaims, snapping his fingers. “You did that routine with the, um, the fancy shoes…” 

“Pointe shoes,” you giggle. “Yeah, people weren’t too impressed. Apparently a twelve-year-old flailing on stage to Swan Lake was not the hit I’d thought it’s be.” 

“Flailing?” Eddie shakes his head. “Nah, you were amazing. Don’t tell my friends, but I, uh, secretly wanted you to win.”

“Me?!”

“Yeah, you.” He matches your surprised tone, making you laugh again. “I thought it was totally badass, getting up there and doing ballet when all the other girls were jumping around to Blondie.”

“Don’t knock Debbie Harry,” you warn him teasingly, poking your forefinger in his direction. “She is an icon, and you will show her some respect.”

Eddie brings a hand to his heart. “My deepest apologies, to both you and Ms. Harry.” He flashes another sweet smile that could melt an iceberg. “But I really did want you to win. I’ve always rooted for the underdog.”

“Well, I appreciate it.” And you do. It’s nice to know that someone besides your parents believed in you. 

“You, uh, you still dance?” Eddie asks abruptly. 

“Yup,” you tell him, sitting up a bit straighter. “It’s actually what I go to school for.”

“Good,” Eddie muses, averting his gaze from your side of the room. “You were too talented to give that up.”

You’re about to respond when there’s a knock on the door and you see an orderly walk in with a food tray. You drop your head back on your pillow, humming your happiness. The orderly sets your table within your reach before placing your tray on it. Before the man can even step out the door to grab Eddie’s food, you’re inhaling the soup you’ve been given. You’re distantly aware as Eddie gets his food, but you’re busy trying to figure out what type of soup it is. Is that potato in it? 

A groan from the other side of the curtain has you looking in Eddie’s direction as you swallow a mouthful of soup.

“What’s wrong?” you ask.

“Nothing,” Eddie says, clearly lying.

“If we’re going to be roommates, we’re going to have to learn to be honest with one another.”

He huffs a laugh as he clangs his silverware together. “S’just that it’s gonna sound ridiculously stupid after what everyone has been through.”

“Humor me,” you say before ladling another spoonful of soup in your mouth.

“Fine,” Eddie says with a sigh. “I got green Jell-O. I hate that shit.” 

Your eyes lock on your own Jell-O, bright red where it sits next to your piece of bread and cup of water. “How do you feel about red?”

“Much better,” Eddie says, tearing off a piece of his own bread and shoving it into his mouth.

“Wanna trade?” you offer.

“Y’don’t have to do that,” he says through his full mouth.

“Nah, come on,” you say. “Besides, green’s my favorite color.” 

Eddie looks over at you, a skeptical look on his face as he chews. But you pick up your sealed cup of Jell-O and toss it over to him. Smiling, he throws the green in return, which you manage to catch.

“Thanks,” he says. You hum in acknowledgment as you tear off the foil lid. 

There’s a beat of silence as you both eat what Hawkins General considers dessert. “I don’t know how you like the green one,” Eddie pipes up. 

You shrug. “Jell-O is Jell-O,” you say nonchalantly, taking a big spoonful to emphasize your point. 

“Nuh uh,” Eddie shakes his head, wincing at the twinge of pain it causes. “Cherry is the superior flavor, and everyone knows it.” He slurps it obnoxiously, making you roll your eyes. 

“Geez, how does Chrissy put up with you?” Your tone is light and joking, so you’re taken aback by the darkness that takes over his face. “What?”

“How do you know about Chrissy?” he asks, voice barely audible. 

Your face heats up; you’d forgotten that he didn’t know you’d heard him talking in his sleep. “Um, you said something about saving her when you were having that nightmare,” you admit, softening when you realize how vulnerable he is. “Is she your girlfriend?”

“No, she isn’t—wasn’t,” he amends. “She was the girl who died in my trailer. But I…I didn’t kill her, I swear.” Eddie looks over at you with misty eyes. “I can’t tell you what happened, but you have to believe me.”

You hold his gaze. “I believe you,” you murmur, quiet but assured. 

The two of you go back to your food, plastic utensils scraping styrofoam bowls, until Eddie speaks up again. “You…you said I talked about Chrissy in my sleep?”

“Mhm.”

“What else did I say?” He looks ambivalent, like he’s unsure if he wants to know what his subconscious mind churned up. 

You think back for a moment. “You asked someone for help, and then you said you didn’t want to, um…you didn’t want to die.” Your eyes flit over to his side of the room, but he’s practically boring a hole in his Jell-O cup with how intently he’s staring at it. 

“Did you tell me to wake up? That I survived?” He finally allows himself to make eye contact with you, a trace of a smile dancing on his lips. 

“Yeah—I can never remember if you’re supposed to let the nightmare end naturally, but you seemed really upset.” You gnaw on your lower lip anxiously. 

Eddie rests his head on the pillow. “God, this is gonna sound corny as hell,” he starts, chuckling to himself, “but when you did that, it was like…I saw brightness, y’know? Not like, Eddie, come into the light,” he drops his voice an octave and wiggles his fingers, making you giggle, “but like the sun was coming out from behind the clouds. Does that make sense?”

You nod, watching him exhale in relief. 

“Guess you’re my sunshine then, huh?” He gives you a shy smile that you easily return, trying to push down the spark of electricity that seems to flow between you. 

“Hey, how about this?” Eddie asks as he lands on a channel. Your eyes feel like they’re going to roll back in your head when you see a NASCAR race on tiny television.

“Absolutely not,” you answer. 

“Aw, come on,” Eddie says, shit-eating grin on his face. “It’s an American pastime.”

“It’s one big left turn, is what it is,” you shout. “Toss me the remote?” Eddie chuckles and goes to throw it your way before you wince and add, “Watch the leg!”

He’s careful to avoid the area as he sends it your way, but his eyes drift down the blanket at the mention of your limb. “Is that why you’re in here?”

“No, I’ve always wanted to vacation here,” you reply, maintaining a deadpan expression. 

“I hear the eleventh floor is just wonderful this time of year,” Eddie throws back, feigning a posh British accent. Terribly, you might add. “How bad is it?” he presses, motioning towards your leg. 

“Dunno yet,” you answer honestly. “They took some x-rays and did a bunch of scans; now I’m just waiting for the doctor. They’re probably just overwhelmed.”

Eddie nods. “Nothing like a good, old-fashioned earthquake to shake things up.” He raises his eyebrows, waiting for you to react to his pun. Nothing. “Oh, c’mon! That was a good one!”

“You’re a comedic genius, Eddie Munson,” you joke, and he flips you off, nearly snagging the IV tube pinching his skin. “I’m sure everything’s fine. I’ll probably be in a cast for six weeks, maybe have to do some physical therapy. This isn’t my first broken bone.” 

“How do you do that?” Eddie muses. 

“Do what?” 

“Be so…positive,” he explains sheepishly. “I mean, you could be all bitter or anxious, but you’re calm, cool, and collected.” He fiddles with his fingers, frowning as though something is missing. “You really are a ray of sunshine, huh?”

“That’s me.” Truthfully, you’re worried that this could be more than just a run-of-the-mill break, but you don’t let that fear seep through. Instead, you aim the remote at the tiny TV in the corner of the room, settling on a soap opera rerun. It’s not what you’d usually watch, but you’re determined to get your revenge for his NASCAR escapades earlier. 

To your chagrin, Eddie’s enthralled with the on-screen drama. “Oh, shit!” He rubs his hands together. “Is this the one where Shelby sleeps with Theo and his identical twin brother, Mark?” He chuckles at the bemused look on your face. “I got hooked on this show when I was home with the flu last year,” he confesses, though he doesn’t look the least bit ashamed. 

“Eddie Munson, secret soap opera aficionado?” You waggle your eyebrows. “Scandalous. What will your fans think?”

“I am what I am, Sunshine.” He sits up a little straighter as a woman with big hair and even bigger breasts shoves ultrasound photos at an impossibly handsome man. “No fuckin’ way!” Eddie gasps. “She’s knocked up!”

“How did you not see that coming? It’s like the oldest trick in the book!” you ask incredulously. “Now she has to figure out which brother is the dad.”

Eddie’s beautiful brown eyes widen in shock. “But they’re identical! How’s she gonna do that?”

“Guess you’ll just have to watch and find out!” you chirp, giggling as he lets out an impatient sigh. 

“Mr. Munson?” a nurse calls from the doorway, pushing an empty wheelchair. “We’re ready to run your tests. Just have to transfer you to the chair.” She pats the back of it, trying to keep some level of professionalism, but you can tell that she’s nervous being around an alleged murderer. She holds out her hand to help Eddie out of bed, and he shoots you a tight grin. 

“I’m goin’ commando under here, Sunshine,” he warns you. “Look away. This show ain’t free.”

You cover your eyes dramatically as he plops into the chair, grunting and groaning the whole way down. “Is it safe?”

“You’re good,” Eddie reassures you as the nurse starts to wheel him out of the room. “Hey, let me know who the father is when I get back. My money’s on Theo.”

You narrow your eyes. “How much money?”

“Hmm,” Eddie taps his chin with his forefinger, pretending to be deep in thought. “It won’t be as much as usual, since I already bought a beach house and a Jaguar this year…$3,000 sound good?”

You give him a little salute, turning your attention back to the show. Settling in against the pillows, you get immersed in the show yourself, rooting for some characters, and wanting some to get stabbed in the backs like they deserve. Just as it comes back to Shelby’s storyline, your doctor walks in, a tight smile on his lips. 

“What’s the news, Dr. Sanoj?”

“Well,” he says, looking down at the chart in his hands. “Like we suspected, it’s your femur. It was crushed pretty badly. It’s going to need a few pins in it, which will require some surgery.” 

Letting a deep sigh fall from your lips, you nod your head. “Okay. Was kind of expecting that.” 

“Now, we won’t know for sure until we get in there and take a look at things, but there’s a chance you’ll need a mobility aid to help you get around.”

“What do you mean?” you ask, brows pinching in confusion. “Like crutches?”

“Crutches are one type of aid, yes. But they range in variety. It’s things like wheelchairs, walkers, canes. But this will be a better discussion for once we see how the surgery turns out,” Dr. Sanoj says.

“Would I need to use one forever?” The sympathetic look that softens your doctor’s face lets you know he heard the trepidation in your voice. “Will I be able to dance again?”

“Like I said,” Dr. Sanoj says, “this discussion is best for once the surgery is done.”

You nod your head, knowing you probably won’t be able to get any further information on the subject out of him. “When will I have the surgery?”

“Scheduling is going to work that out and they should let you know by the end of the day. You can expect to be here the days following the surgery, but you shouldn’t be cooped up in these hospital walls for too much longer. You’ll get there, you’ll see. One day at a time.” 

“Thank you, Doctor.” 

A funk has taken over you once Dr. Sanoj leaves the room. A mobility aid? Could you dance with one of those? Surgery and recovery you planned on, but the goal was always to get you back in the dance studio, and needing a device to help you simply get around was not what you had been expecting. 

Allowing yourself to stew in your own self pity for a few moments, you realize you’ve missed the big reveal on which brother is the father of Shelby’s baby. You’ll have to tell Eddie that. Explain the doctor came in and you were talking to him. But, you think to yourself, Eddie doesn’t need to know just what rough shape your leg is in. He calls you his sunshine, doesn’t he? That would just bring some gray clouds that he did not need in his life. He’s got a lot going on and is going to need to keep his spirits up. That’ll be easier for you to do if you pretend like everything is rainbows and lollipops. 

The door opens and Eddie is wheeled back inside, groaning in pain as he holds a hand over his ribs. 

“Right here with the pain medicine,” Nurse Mandy says, stepping in behind him. 

“Oh, please be mine,” Eddie says, watching the bundle in Mandy’s hands like a hawk. “Sorry roomie, I think I need it more than you do right now.”

“S’all yours,” you tell him.

Mandy sets a bag of IV fluid up as the transporter helps Eddie get back in bed. His face is pale, and you’ve learned that comes when agonizing pain is ripping through you. 

“Okay, Mr. Munson. Should start hitting you at any minute now,” Mandy says. 

“Thanks,” Eddie says, letting his eyes drift closed. He stays that way after both the nurse and the transporter leave the room. You think he’s fallen asleep until he speaks again. “So, which brother was it?”

“Ah, sorry, Eddie,” you say. “Doc came in and I was talking with him, so I think I missed it.”

“Good news?” Eddie’s opened his eyes and turns his head to look at you, genuine concern written across his face. 

For a moment, you contemplate spilling everything: the surgery, the mobility aid, the possibility of never dancing again. But you shove it deep down, determined to keep your cheery disposition that he so desperately needs. “Y-Yeah, everything’s looking ship-shape.” Ship-shape? You’re a terrible liar, but Eddie doesn’t seem to notice. 

“Thas’ good shit.” From the dreamy quality his voice is taking in, you can tell the pain meds are starting to take effect. 

“How’re you feeling?” you ask.

“Sore as hell from how they had to maneuver me for x-rays. But I feel the medicine kicking in.” A smile comes to his face and you can tell the giddiness of the high is hitting him. “Time for me to fly.”

You giggle and turn your attention back to the television. A game show is on now, so you snuggle in to play along. The contestant is getting an obvious puzzle wrong and it makes you roll your eyes. You’re about to say something to Eddie about it, but then his soft snores reach your ears. Turning your head to look at him, you notice how peaceful he looks. All you can do is pray he stays that way and isn’t plagued by any other nightmares. 

Sunshine, he calls you. It’s the nicest nickname you’ve ever been given. You’re hoping you can keep that bright and optimistic attitude up enough to help him out when the clouds come rolling in. It’s not a one-way street, though. Eddie is going to be your light, your breath of fresh air, your optimism. You just don’t know it yet.

--

[xo-hugs-n-kisses-ox]

Rumination

Ruminate

(v.) To think about something deeply

After Edward left her, Bella Swan fell apart. Desperate to try and save his eldest daughter, Charlie brings his youngest daughter to Forks to see if she can bring her sister out of her depression.

Now, y/n must try to help her sister find her way back to the light while also trying to navigate her Junior year of high school in the odd town of Forks.

---

Chapter Eleven: Contemplation

Now Playing: Salt And The Sea by The Lumineers

Paul and I went to Port Angeles today. Bella was hanging out around Emily’s, and I was still sore with her. Like the first time she showed back up, Paul had taken my keys, grabbed my purse, and snagged me to whisk me away somewhere that would take my mind off my anger with my older sister.

We had seen a movie today. It was some crappy action movie, but it made me laugh.

We got lunch afterwards, sitting in my truck as we ate.

I don’t know why I decided to do it. Maybe it was how he shared about his dad, but I started rambling about Charlie and Renee.

“My parents were high school sweethearts,” I blurted, “They were together all four years. They got married as soon as they were both eighteen, and had my sister soon after.”

I studied my sandwich as I spoke, avoiding looking at anything else.

“The pregnancy was hard on my mom. She had postpartum depression bad, the only thing she could manage to do was feed my sister when she cried.” I recalled the stories Mom had said, her voice light and joking. I had always seen the pain behind her eyes as she remembered.

I continued, “Dad worked long hours at the station to try and cover bills, pay back the hospital, and scrounge up dinner. Mom got better after a while, but she lost some of her spark.”

“They had me about a year later. I think it was to fix the marriage.” I slowly take a sip of my slushie, thinking. I continue on, “Didn’t work, obviously. They lasted three more years before Mom grabbed us and fled Forks for California.”

I look at Paul from the corner of my eye, and he’s already looking at me. I feel like the breath is being punched out of me, his attentive silence making my heart pound.

I take a deep breath, steam-rolling on.

“They divorced. Charlie gave her almost everything she wanted. He still loved her so much. I think he still does,” I admit, “But not as someone loves their spouse. I think it’s more a mourning and appreciation for what they used to be, what they used to have. Mom’s always been a, uh, free spirit. She’s gone through hobbies and boyfriends like I go through clothes day to day. She tires of them, then goes looking for the next one to hold her interest.”

“I—” I cut myself off, organizing my jumbled thoughts for a moment, “My friends have goals in life, milestones they want to achieve. Graduation, university, marriage, kids, grandkids, retirement. It all sounds nice, but marriage never had a solid meaning for me. I saw how easily it could break. Nearly forty-eight percent of marriages end in divorce, according to Bella.”

I was quiet for a long moment before murmuring, “So I maybe that if you have an issue with expression your emotions, I’m sure I have an issue with pessimism.”

He was quiet for a good moment, and I was afraid that maybe I said too much. Then, without a word, he reached out and put his heavy hand on my shoulder. I took a deep breath, closing my eyes and leaning my head against his knuckles.

---

Edward bribed Alice into kidnapping my sister for two days so she wouldn’t visit Jacob. I sprayed Jacob’s cologne in her vents and her clothes.

It was a nice enough day, and I had gone for a hike. Jacob, while patrolling, had come by a few times to check on me. Sam had, also, and around noon was when Paul showed up.

His hulking wolf form no longer startled me, and I wordlessly passed him the bacon I had saved from this morning. He huffed, taking it delicately from my hand and sitting down beside me.

“I heard Quil imprinted,” I told him, having heard from Jake. “I’m happy for him, Jake said she’s a girl from his school, too, in the class beside his.”

Paul remained quietly looking out at the scenery with me, but he tilted his head towards me to hear better.

“Though, I’m still confused on the whole imprinting thing,” I admitted, “I asked Emily and Sam, but they didn’t give me a clear answer about it.”

At my words, Paul turned fully to look at me. I stared back, wondering what he was thinking. He huffed, sounding like he was sighing, before nudging me up and back towards the trail.

The two of us walked back to the house for dinner, and I went inside while he went over to the shed to change back. Bella was over, apparently rescued by Jacob, and I looked at her for a long moment before Embry drew me into conversation.

I won’t lie and say I didn’t miss my sister. I did. Desperately. But I was still hurt that she would choose the Cullens over her own family.

Lunch was normal. We had burgers again, since there was a sale on ground beef, and everything felt like it did in February.

I clung to this shred of normalcy, fearful of when it would no longer be an option.

---

My allusion of normalcy was shattered when Bella went right back to Edward as soon as the hunting trip was over. Jacob had stormed back in and told me that she still thought it was none of our business what happened to her, that she was still set on becoming undead.

I didn’t have the energy to cry, or to yell. I didn’t even have the energy to be surprised.

Jacob had stormed back out at my lack of reaction, and I watched him go passively. I sighed.

I slept for most of the day, woken up around noon by a call.

“Hello?” I asked, my voice raspy from sleep. I rubbed my eyes, taking a deep breath to try and wake up.

“Y/n, a vampire was at the house. Not Victoria, someone new. I need you to tell the pack that, and—” my sister hurriedly explained, and I woke up quickly with her explanation.

Tipping out of my bed, I ran back towards the living room.

“Sam—” I started, nearly falling over when I scrambled around the corner, “Sam, a new vampire was at my house, Edward smelled it!”

Immediately, Jacob was reaching for my phone. He spoke into it quickly, interrogating my sister and Edward. They decided that I would stay here, still, and that Jacob would go see if he recognized the scent since Carlisle didn’t.

I waited anxiously for a verdict, and Sam started drafting new patrol routines.

Bella sent a text after a while, Possible murderer in Seattle, maybe linked. Let you know more when I do.

“I can’t believe this shit,” I muttered, “Why can’t this nightmare be over yet?”

---

We had a bonfire tonight. Bella was driven over by Edward, and I gave him a long look when I collected her. Emily was with me, grabbing her bags as I held my sister’s hand. The three of us traveled down to the beach, and we set her things down at our blanket.

Bella was sitting on a log across me, Jacob leaning on her knees from his seat on the sand.

He was idly roasting a hotdog, bickering with Paul over it. He relented, though, handing the skewer over to him. He took it, putting it on a bun and reached for condiments.

Embry tried to sneak a bite of it, only to get Paul’s massive hand shoving his face away. In his distraction, I reached around him to pinch off a piece of it, popping it in my mouth as he turned to scowl at me.

I smiled at him, handing him the ketchup. He rolled his eyes, dressing his hotdog and eating it quickly.

When he was finished, he leaned back against the log I was sitting on and told me, “Tell Bella to sit down wind next time, all I smell is Leech.”

I snort, “What does it smell like, anyway?”

He thought for a moment, putting words together, “Like dust, but in an old folk’s home.”

I laugh, overjoyed at the revelation.

I was about to speak again when Billy cleared his throat to begin telling stories.

———

Hey guys! Sorry for the super late update, today was actually hell 🫠 school sucks and I hate it but whatevs I guess

Anyway, hope you guys enjoy!! I’ll likely update again over the weekend bc I’ll be traveling tmr 💕

Once again, if yall have any ideas you want me to write, please lmk!! Anyways bye bye pookie 🥰

[yawneneteyam]

gorgeous (8) — so furious.

— GORGEOUS, an avatar smau ( by yawneneteyam ) masterlist

— gorgeous, so furious !

neteyam felt relieved as soon as he saw y/n. she seemed happier, less up-tight than she was the last time he saw her. he decided to ignore what kiri and lo'ak had been saying about her making him jealous, chalked it up to her having a bad day.

y/n sat closer to neteyam than she usually would, their chairs almost touching as they finished their assignment together.

"are you gonna miss me when we don't have to work together anymore?" neteyam asked her with a smirk on his lips.

"you wish," y/n scoffed.

"I'd like to think you'll miss me," he smiled, "I'll miss you,"

y/n had to stop herself from swooning then are there. there was something endearing about neteyam not knowing the effect he had on y/n. she thought it made him that much more attractive.

they sat together for way longer than they needed to. neither of them wanted to leave, creating excuses to stay with each other for longer. neteyam began to notice small things about y/n the more he saw her. the way she had a laugh when she was comfortable, one for when she wasn't. he felt almost honoured that she felt comfortable around him.

"oh shit," neteyam picked up his phone, a photo of his younger sister lit up his screen. "tuk is calling, do you mind?"

"answer the phone stupid," she laughed.

neteyam chuckled before answering the phone. y/n could hear tuk's voice through the phone.

"teyam!" she exclaimed.

"hey tuk, what's up?" he smiled as he spoke.

"will you be home tonight? I want to get ice cream with you"

"yes, I'll be home- not sure when, but we can get ice cream" he nodded. y/n's face lit up watching neteyam talk to his littlest sister. she knew he was a good brother, but he was so sweet with her. "I have a question for you,"

"yeah?"

"what are you doing on your phone at school when you're supposed to be grounded?" he smirked, putting his head down.

neteyam was met with silence and three quick beeps on the other line. tuk had hung up on him. he and y/n burst out in laughter. they weren't spared from dirty looks across the library.

"she is actually such a troublemaker," he shook his head.

"she sounds so cute," y/n chuckled.

"yeah, but she knows it!" he exclaimed, still whispering, "it's not a good combination"

"I can imagine,"

they forgot their work for a little while, talked about their families. y/n could tell that they were neteyam's greatest joy. he loved them so much. they eventually got back onto the topic of their work, but only for a few minutes before neteyam's phone rang again.

he flipped it over to look at who was calling before letting out a sigh.

it was a'korai.

"did you want to get that?" y/n asked, holding her breath, "I dont mind,"

"not really to be honest," neteyam laughed awkwardly, "shes been texting me all day,"

"oh really?" y/n didn't mean to sound too excited, but the sound of neteyam's distain at her calling and messaging him made her happy.

"yeah," he stretched his arms behind his head, the bottom of his t-shirt riding up- y/n tried to not let her gaze linger on his v-line, "one of the other guys in our class gave her my number and she's been messaging me all the time" he explained. "it's not that she's not nice, she is!" he jumbled, not wanting to sound like too much of a dick, "but.. I don't know, we're not really friends? so I'm not sure why she's texting me all the time and now she's calling me? like I don't know what I'll say to her, what are we even going to talk about?"

y/n started to laugh at neteyam. kiri was right, he was oblivious. "neteyam, did you ever think that she might have a little crush on you?"

it was like she was watching the cogs in his head turn, or watching a computer reboot. "no," he shook his head finally, "no way,"

"oh yeah," y/n laughed, nodding her head, "she likes you,"

"you think?" it was like he was shocked that a girl could possibly have feelings for him.

he was so stupidly gorgeous in this moment, y/n really was down bad. "definitely," she nodded.

"well.. I don't really like her like that," he shrugged.

"that's fine, you dont' have to"

"I should probably keep my distance then, yeah? don't wanna make her think anything of it," he asked.

the thought of saying 'yes, keep your distance' flashed across y/n's mind. sabotage, that's you're neteyam. as much as she wanted to, she knew that she couldn't. y/n wanted him to be happy. "I mean, do whatever feels right.. you know?" she shrugged.

he stared at y/n for a little while before speaking. it made her heart race. "thanks," he smiled.

"you're welcome?"

"come on," neteyam closed the lid of his laptop and began to pack away his things. y/n looked up at him in confusion.

"come on to where?" she asked with a soft laugh.

"we'll you're not gonna have lunch unless I make you, so we're going to get lunch" he shoved his car keys in his pocket. "let's go," he gestured to the door with his head.

"but-"

"nope! let's go," he cut her off, not letting her object.

y/n sighed before closing her laptop lid, "fine,"

"don't 'fine' me, young lady" neteyam began to pack away y/n's things for her, "now move it,"

— gorgeous, so furious ! new chapter! no angst between neteyam and y/n, this is a soft fic I promise. I also cannot handle writing angst, I am a fluff girl first! I hope you're all loving the story, the amount of people reading it is crazy to me- so thank you <3

[daisysliv]

now or never | eddie munson

word count: 4035

pairing: eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: eddie's plans to confess don't exactly go to plan

warnings: swearing, angst, fluff if you squint, mentions of drugs (not specified), smut, p in v, protected sex (wrap it before you tap it mfs)

notes: sorry for being so ia for a while, i just started working, and by the time i get home, im too tired to even write, but i managed to get this done over the last few days. this was my first time writing smut, let me know if you like it! this is one of my personal favorite fics i've ever written, so i hope you like it <3 there is a part two for this in works so let me know if that's something you would like and as always, not edited, so all my mistakes are my own

library

stranger things bookshelf

Standing outside the burgundy-colored door of his best friend’s home for what felt like hours but was merely a couple of minutes as he gathered the courage to ring the doorbell. He released a puff of air that he had been holding and lifted his finger to ring the bell, only to hesitate and lower it again. He repeats the same action a few more times. He was shaking, not from the cold breeze that nipped at the exposed skins of his hands but with nerves. His heart pounded against his ribs so hard he thought it would burst out of his chest at any given moment.

Truth be told, he had no idea what he was doing here so late or what he was going to say if you answered the door; all he knew was that if he didn’t tell you how he felt now, then any and all courage he felt would be gone. He could already feel it slipping.

He shook his arms out in some lame attempt to get rid of the nerves that coursed through his veins. He had been nervous and overthinking this all day, but it didn’t compare to how he currently felt now that he stood outside your house. Muttering a few words of encouragement to himself, he finally rang the doorbell and turned his back to the door to try and gather his jumbled thoughts before it inevitably opened.

The door opened with a low creak followed by a velvet-like voice that had taken over his every thought, “Eddie?” Spinning back around, a nervous smile tugged on his lips, and—fuck.

You looked beautiful, which wasn’t anything new. You always looked beautiful without even trying. He stood there in awe, his lips parted as his eyes danced over the woman in front of him. You looked like you had just finished getting ready for bed. You wore a Black Sabbath that he recognized as the one he gave you at school when you claimed to be cold while sitting in the cafeteria, paired with black sweats and her face bare of the makeup you had on earlier in the day. “Did we have plans or something?”

Snapping out of his trance, Eddie shook his head, his eyes never straying away from you. You smiled at him and moved out of the way, opening the door wider to give him room so he could enter. “Are you okay? Did something happen?”

“No, everything is good. I just…” He trails off, his back facing her as he surveys the living room for any signs that your parents are there. “Are your parents here, or did they leave already?”

You shook your head as you shut the door, making sure to lock it. “They left a bit ago. Got the house all to myself for the next few days.” You followed him to the living room and moved around picking up the disregarded trash that was piled on the coffee table. “I meant to call when they left and see if you wanted a movie night, but I fell asleep. Why are you asking?”

“Well, I didn’t really want anyone to witness possible failure on my part because I…I have something to tell you,” A warm smile tugs on his lips as he watches you dump the trash in your arms into the nearby trash can. “So…can we sit and talk?”

“Yeah, just let me finish throwing this shit away. Robin and Steve came over after school before my parents left, and I couldn’t be bothered to clean after they left.” You rambled while carefully placing some dishes in the sink, the alcohol into the fridge, and threw away a few more pieces of trash that you found lying around. Eddie paced the living room, rubbing his hands over his jean-clad legs to wipe away from the sweat that gathered on his palms. “Do you want something to drink?”

He shakes his head and darts his tongue out to wet his dry, chapped lips. He could feel his nerves taking over the longer he waited to get this over with. He could feel the courage he took weeks to gather slipping away with every second that ticked by. “Princess, please just… just come here.” Eddie pleaded, his eyes on his best friend, hoping you could see the desperation in his eyes. Fortunately for him, you knew him and could hear the desperation in his tone. You moved towards where he was and took a seat on the couch, folding your legs under your butt and adjusting the hoodie you wore. Eddie followed you in sitting on the couch, his elbows resting on his knees, and he ran a hand over his face.

He hadn’t thought this through all the way, and he didn’t know how to approach it. You were able to sense his nerves, so you reached forward and grabbed one of his hands. “Eddie, what’s going on? Whatever it is, you know you can tell me.”

“Shit, uh… I hope that what I’m about to tell you doesn’t ruin anything because I value our friendship more than anything. And I know I’m not the easiest person to be friends with, but–”

“Eds, spit it out.” You cut off his ramblings, your eyes locked on his, and he could feel his heart speed up in his chest; that same pounding feeling from earlier. He was certain that one day he would go into cardiac arrest around her.

Now or never, Munson. He thought. He opened his mouth to speak, but no sound came out, his throat feeling dry and scratchy. He felt sweat form in the palm of his hands and felt his cheeks heat up. You looked at him with concern carved into your features, your eyes scanning his face, looking for something, but he didn’t know what.

“Are you high or something?” You blurt, pulling your hand out from his.

“No! I’m clean. I just… I’m nervous.” He spoke, his brows knitted together. “Why would you automatically assume I’m high?”

You shake your head, letting out a breath of relief. “I’m sorry, it’s just that you’re all jumpy and won’t get to the point, and I haven’t seen you like this since the day before that… that night.” His heart clenched at the mention of the night he reached rock bottom a year and a half ago. It had been a hard week leading up to it all around, and he finally reached his breaking point where he felt so alone and unwanted that he took everything he could to not feel that way anymore. Eddie could hardly think of that night without being bombarded with the image of his best friend's face when she stumbled into the trailer and found him barely breathing on the couch.

He was awake but unaware of most of his surroundings. He could speak, but it came out slurred and incoherent. His complexion was turning bluish-purple, his lips already blue, and a thin layer of cold sweat coated his body. His pulse was barely there, and his breathing had turned shallow but erratic.

He barely remembered anything once all the drugs kicked in, but he remembered waking up in the hospital a few days later with flashes of that night swirling through his head, but there were only a few things that stood out the most. The sound of your voice cracking while begging for him to stay as sobs racked your body was one of them. The broken and distraught look on your face was another. That one haunted him weeks afterward. It still did sometimes. The doctors told him that wouldn't have made it if you would've arrived just a few minutes later.

After that night, he never wanted to see that look on your face or his Uncle Wayne’s face or hear the way your voices broke ever again. He didn't want to feel himself slipping away slowly and not being able to move or call for help again so he made it his mission to stay away from that shit. You were there for him through every single step he took. You never left his side even when he had his mood swings, and he couldn't have asked for anyone else.

“I know, and I promise you, I'm okay. I just have something important to tell you, and I'm scared that it'll ruin everything.”

“It won't. I promise, so just tell me.” Placing your hand in his once more, you intertwined your fingers, smiling at the warmth that shot through your body. Eddie smiled at the same feeling, not realizing you did the same.

His eyes flickered down to your lips for a moment, the urge to just press his against yours, to know how they felt and tasted, grew stronger with each fleeting second. You, however, didn't notice the not-so-subtle action as you were too focused on the warmth your body felt whenever you made skin-to-skin contact with the man. It was like a warm blanket was being draped over your shoulders after being in the cold longer than you should be. It was like curling up next to the fire with the warm blanket and the comforting smell of cookies floating around the room.

Looking up, you force your eyes away from your locked hands and stare at him, your eyes finding his light brown eyes already staring at you. At that moment, he felt a surge of confidence wash over him, all his nerves disappearing, and he lifted his free hand to cup your jaw, the pad of his thumb tracing over her cheekbone.

He watched your face contort from concern to curiosity the longer he stared. With a nervous smile, Eddie leaned in closer, pressing his forehead on yours, your noses touching and mouths hovering over one another. You were so close that all it would take was one wrong move from either of you, and your lips would touch. His eyes darted back down to your lips, taking note of how yours did the same, the once nervous smile now a smirk.

He looked back up to your eyes, searching for anything that told him that you didn't want this to happen; he didn't find any. “Eddie,” You whispered seconds before he surged forward and pressed his lips to yours in a searing kiss, full of pent-up tension you had been suppressing for years, your eyes immediately fluttering shut. You moaned quietly at the feeling of his lips on yours, your free hand immediately gripping his long hair, tugging at the root while the other disconnected from his hand to wrap around his neck.

He hummed against your mouth, the groan building in the back of his throat making itself known. Your mouth opened with a gasp when he placed his free hand underneath the hoodie you wore, on your waist to pull you closer; the warmth of his touch sent a shock up your spine.

Despite the awkward position you were in, your lips moved against his in perfect sync until the need for air became too much, and, with a lot of hesitation, Eddie slowly pulled away. His eyes opened slowly to look at you while he dragged air back into his lungs. Your eyes fluttered open shortly after his, your chest heaving as you fought for air.

“So beautiful,” He murmured, wearing a dopey grin on his face.

A smile pulls at your lips, and you tighten your grip around his neck, pulling him down to connect your lips once again, now craving the feeling and taste of them more. Eddie responded quickly, removing his hands from where they were on your body to grip underneath your thighs to pull you into his lap, swallowing the noise of surprise you made when he did. He smiled against your lips, his heart still beating rapidly against his ribs.

Your hands tangled themselves into his hair, tugging at the roots and eliciting a groan from the metalhead. He leaned back on the couch, his hands going to your waist to hold you still when he felt you move. You were the first one to pull away this time, your eyes remaining shut while gasping for air for a minute before diving back into his lips. “Hmm,” He hummed against your lips.

You giggled at the vibrations it sent through and down your body. You pull away, keeping your hands tangled in his hair. “Does this mean what I think it does, or do you go around kissing all your friends like that?”

“Only the real pretty ones.” He jokes, and you remove a hand from his hair to smack him in the chest, throwing your head back in a laugh. Eddie took the opportunity to duck forward and attach his mouth to your neck, your laugh quickly turning into a gasp.

“Upstairs.” You said through gasps while he worked on your neck, nipping and sucking gently. You were sure he left marks behind.

He reluctantly pulled away, and you took the chance to disconnect from him, pulling him up off the couch. “Lead the way, princess.” He smirked.

As soon as your bedroom door closes behind you, his lips are on yours again as he presses you against the door. “Are you sure about this?” He asks breathlessly, his lips already back on your neck.

“Yeah, fuck, please.” 

“Just making sure.” He leans in again, covering your lips with his. You wrap your arms around his neck, pressing yourself against him. He was warm, despite the cold air that filled the room from your cracked window, and you felt like you were dreaming. 

He moves his hand under your—his hoodie, running his hand over your skin, and you can't stop the shivers going up your spine. You're tingling everywhere, all your senses zeroing in on him. His scent, the way his body felt against yours, the way his lips felt. Everything. 

You throw your head back, giving him more access to your neck, and it doesn't take long for Eddie to suck and nibble on your skin. “You're so beautiful, princess.” Eddie leans his forehead against yours, his chest heaving with heavy breaths. 

“Eddie…” Your eyes dart back and forth between his own, your heart pounding against your chest. “Kiss me.” He obliges and plants a quick kiss on your lips, and then he picks you up with one swift movement, making you squeal.

Your back hits the mattress as he lays you down, a giggle tumbling past your lips. The chain he wore swung in your face, and you reached up, hooking a finger through the chain to pull him closer. You meet in another kiss, all tongues and teeth, while you busy your hands with his undoing his belt. Eddie uses one of his hands to support his weight on the bed. “What do you want?” Eddie lays his forehead on yours, his cheeks flushed. 

Instead of answering with words, you wrap your hand around his and run it down your body until the heat of his hand is seeping through your sweats, and you feel the gentle pressure on your center. You feel yourself get even more turned on. Eddie rubs his hand over your sweats ever so slightly, but it’s enough to make your heart pound faster against your ribs.

“I see. You want my hands?” 

“Please,” You nod quickly, bucking your hips into his hand.

Eddie huffs out a laugh with a slight shake of his head. “I have no choice but to oblige.” He quickly gets to work with undoing the strings on your sweats and hooking his fingers into the waistband, and pulls them down, exposing your underwear that you were sure was soaked through at this point. And you couldn’t bring yourself to feel embarrassed about it. He takes off the fuzzy socks that you wore to keep your feet warm before pulling the sweats off your legs completely, kissing his way back up until he’s resting between your legs. His hands are on your hips, yours in his hair as he gets closer to where you need him the most. “You’re so wet for me, princess.” You could hear the smirk in his, but you don’t get the chance to think more over it, let alone say anything in return, because in the next second, Eddie is running his tongue over your covered core. 

You let out a curse when the tip of his tongue finds your clit. “Right there.” Your grip on his hair tightens, and you feel his fingers press into the skin of your thighs. 

“Hmm, I think I’ll have to get closer.” 

“Fuck, please.” You wouldn’t be surprised if you turned into a puddle at his touch. With nimble fingers, Eddie pushes your panties to the side, his breath now hitting your wet folds directly, causing you to let out a high-pitched whine.

“So fucking beautiful. Definitely worth the wait.” And then he spreads you with his thumbs and dives in, circling your clit with his tongue, lapping and sucking on it. You can feel sweat begin to form, your whole body growing hot under his ministrations.

“Fuck, I love the sounds you’re making, princess.” He replaces his tongue with a thumb, and the sudden change in pressure makes you moan loudly, your thighs clenching. “I'll take my time with you next time, but, right now, I gotta have you.” 

You definitely were not complaining. As much as you enjoyed the foreplay, you needed him inside you, reaching the places you couldn’t. Eddie sits back on his legs and pulls off his jacket and shirt. Just as he leans back down to cover your lips with his, he stops, his brows knitting together. “Condom?” 

“Fuck, uh…my bathroom. Top drawer.” You tell him. 

He smiles and lifts himself off the bed. “One second.” He disappears into your bathroom, and you reposition yourself so you’re on your knees, waiting patiently for him to return. You hear him rummaging around through the door for a moment before he reappears, a foil packet in his hand, stopping in his tracks at the mere sight of you sitting nice and pretty for him. His eyes visibly darken. “Fucking hell, sweetheart,” He groans. 

You don’t take your eyes off of him as he walks over with a triumphant grin on his face. Your eyes flicker down, catching the outline of his hard cock visible through his pants, a low whimper passing your lips.

“God, you’re so hot.” He pulls his bottom lips prisoner in between his teeth as positions himself behind you, placing a kiss on your shoulder blade. His lips sent a shiver through you. 

You look over your shoulder, watching as his stomach flexes as he unbuttons his jeans. “You aren’t too bad yourself.” Your mouth waters when he pulls out his cock. His eyes never leave yours as he rips open the condom wrapper with his teeth. 

You watch him roll the condom on, and then he’s got a hand on your hip while the other wraps around the base of his cock. “Are you ready?” 

You could only nod as he ran the tip of his cock through your folds a couple of times, nudging your clit, and causing you to tighten your grip on your blanket. “Please, Eds…” You whimper, your eyes squeezed shut, and then he’s slowly pushing into you, filling you up. 

Both of you are breathing heavily as he pulls out a bit before sliding in deeper, repeating that until he’s sheathed all the way inside you. A loud groan tumbled past his lips. 

“You're so tight, sweetheart; feels so good.” He pulls you up by the hips, so your back is against his chest, and he moves one of his hands to your cunt, his middle finger playing with your clit, making you clench around him. “So fucking good. Better than I could imagine.” His words make you smile. You place one of your hands on top of the hand he has on your hip, and he withdraws himself before thrusting deeper into you. His hips build up a rhythm that drives you insane. You push your hips back, meeting his thrusts as you widen your legs, wanting him even deeper. 

Eddie picks up the pace, the sound of his skin slapping against yours and both of your moas filling the room. “Fuck, the things I wanna do to you.” Eddie grunts; his deep, gravelly voice sends a shock through you. 

“Why don’t you do them then?” You look back at him, a challengingly glint in your eyes. 

Eddie lets out a strained laugh. “Oh, I will. Next time, you won’t be able to walk for days. I’ll have you in all the ways I could only imagine late at night with just my hand.” 

“Tell me about them.” Your words are followed by a moan as he hits a particularly sensitive spot within you.

“I wanna make you cum so many times you can’t remember anything, not even your own name. Wanna have you so cock drunk, you can’t form proper sentences. Gonna have you bent over in front of a mirror and make you watch yourself fall apart on my cock.” You never thought you’d hear Eddie speak like this, and you can’t deny the way it makes you feel. Hearing him say these things while he fucks into you drives you insane. “Wanna see you on top, riding me with your tits bouncing with every movement, fuck.” He grunts, his thrusts speeding up. He moves in and out of you without problems. Each fantasy he’s told you makes you wetter than before, making it easier for him to slide in and out of you.    

The coil in your stomach is wound tight, and it looks like Eddie isn’t gonna last much longer either. “I’m gonna cum, Eds. I’m so close.” You collapsed onto your elbows, your upper body no longer able to stay up.

“I’ve got you, sweetheart.” He wraps his arm around your torso, moving you back up against his chest, and you’re able to hold onto him better. Being back in this position allows him to find the spot that makes you throw your head back with a moan.

“Right there.” Eddie’s whole body is tense, his skin covered with a sheen of sweat as he pounds into you. And then his thumb finds your clit, and you’re done for, an intense orgasm washing over you. Your walls clench around him, and that’s all it took for him to fall over the edge. He grunts into your ear as he thrusts into you a few more times, his cock twitching as he unloads into the condom.

Both your chests are heaving as you slowly recover. You’re now lying flat on your back, your head on your pillow, and you run your hands through your hair, brushing the strands stuck to your face with sweat away, looking up at the ceiling as you try to comprehend what just happened.

You just had sex with your best friend. And now everything might be ruined. God, you felt so stupid. You just ruined everything, and for what? Something that probably meant nothing? 

All these thoughts run through your head whilst Eddie lazily caresses your thighs, letting out a deep breath before he finally removes his hands from you and stands from the bed. You hear him walk into the bathroom, and you take the opportunity to sit up, the fabric of the hoodie you still wore stuck to your skin. Eddie walks back into the room, wet washcloth in his hand, his face still flushed a pretty pink, and you realize he has put his boxers back on. He opens his mouth to say something, but you beat him to it, your voice hoarse, “it’s late…you should go.” 

He stares at you in surprise for a moment before his face falls, and he slowly nods. You lay back down, not having the will to watch as he puts his clothes back on and leaves. You wait until you can hear the roar of his engine before you let the tears fall.

part two

notes: since tumblr apparently has a limit of how many people i can tag, if i noticed i had you in multiple taglists for stranger things, i removed the duplicate so i can tag more people!

PERMANENT TAGLIST ( if it's crossed out that means i couldn't tag you )

@prettylittlemoonlight @drayshadow @evanbuckbuckleyhowlett @wildestdreamcatcher @mushroomdemon9 @levylovegood @1-800-prostitutes @AllieAprilKnox @alexxavicry @hallecarey1 @moshpot24x @AlohaStitch_626 @lucyispan @linkpk88 @juneb3rry @loveshineslikethesky @liyinzen

STRANGER THINGS TAGLIST

@hehehehannahthings @polarisfae @Pinksloosh @mushroomdemon9 @bvmbshell @lilahloopsy @yeosangs-left-ass-cheek @angelbbygrl @wandamaximoffs-deadchild @marauderssworld @watchingteav @moshpot24x @scorpfairy @cherrypieyourface @soph69420world @itsquinoa @linkpk88 @milkiane @daffodil0darling @pastel-abyss-x @maruushkka @kiwi5335

EDDIE MUNSON TAGLIST

@polarisfae @spookyconsultingcriminal @findleynovadachs111 @1-800-prostitutes @marvel-starwars-nerd @marauderssworld @lovelyladymayyy @mcueveryday @watchingteav @ts1mikas @moshpot24x @scorpfairy @WolfOstar @pettyassbitch @pumpararapam @karagrace @susbuttercup @cherrypieyourface @cupidlvrrr @eddiemunsonhellfire @soph69420world @itsquinoa @lucyispan @centralperksfunds @daffodil0darling @pastel-abyss-x @zervopoulouu @3belladonna

[testingthewatersss]

Jericho Trigger warnings for PTSD, mentions of war, torture, flashbacks etc. Bucky Barnes x (injured) F Reader Oneshot 4430 words Angst, fluffy, fluff.  18+ MDNI

Reader is Tony’s sister, a non-enhanced shield agent who recently resurfaced. Bucky loves her. He really loves her. So what happens if she gets hurt? not for long, just for angst.

She wakes up slowly at first. Consciousness creeping in towards her like a flame flickering at the end of a very deep tunnel.

It’s memories. Jumbled and inaccurate. And then it’s voices.

It’s Tony’s voice. His laughter, echoing around her. It’s the sound of his panic, thick and hidden under the more familiar lilt of frustrated sarcasm.

And then it’s screaming.

It’s Natasha shouting urgent, desperate phrases in English and Russian.

It’s the word Sister, and Sestra- which mean the same thing.

And it’s Steve. Steve using the Captain tone he usually reserves for lectures.

And then it’s silence.

It’s silence, and an ache in her side as the reason for the darkness behind her eyes comes back to her at once.

I got stabbed, she thinks— or was I shot?

Both, maybe? Probably both, knowing my luck.

She hadn’t thought about how likely this outcome was when she’d acted, really.

She hadn’t thought of anything other than Steve.

Of the way his shield was on the ground behind them both, and the way that he was looking the wrong way, talking to Bucky-

Oh, god— Bucky.

His face, watching horrified as she’d pushed his old friend out of the way— only getting more distraught as she’d fallen.

At least she didn’t have to hear him screaming.

Her chest aches as she tunes into the distant sound of beeping.

It’s getting faster by the second.

She wonders if she’s dead. If maybe this is- well, it’s probably not hell.

Remembering the traumatised look on her lovers face is painful, but it’s not torture.

Not hell torture anyway. Though the more she dwells on the last thing she remembers seeing that wasn’t darkness she’s not certain that it’s not getting harder to bare.

Purgatory seems possible.

That would be okay. She could make her peace with purgato-

Ouch.

Okay- Okay- that’s new

A hot, sharp pain flares across her flank, making her whole body tense.

She still has a body.

That realisation makes her head spin.

And then, yeah- that’s a groan.

She’s groaning.

Not dead, then.

Wounded, though. Definitely wounded.

Her hand goes to feel the source of the pain, but no-

“Hey, No”

Back to voices then, she thinks grimly, surrendering to whatever state her body wants to be in with a sigh.

“Are you awake?”

Am I? she thinks, trying to decide on an answer.

“Y/N- Can you hear me? It’s Bruce.”

Bruce. Bruce Banner.

“You’re in medical” he says next, “You took a hit, been out a few days”

She tries to reply, knowing she should, but all she hears is a moan, barely louder than a breath.

Still, she hears a spool of elated laughter.

“Good! That’s good- I’m going to get Tony-”

and then she can’t decipher words anymore. Just steps and excited chatter.

and she wants to ask him not to go- because now she’s aware, she’s scared.

The beeping is getting faster, and faster and the pain is getting sharper and sharper and she doesn’t know what’s happening other than that she’s clearly in bad shape—

“—Hey, Hey—” she hears, “—calm down, you’ve got to stay calm”

That is so annoying.

It’s the same thing she’s said to hundreds of patients, but still, hearing it from the other side is just… annoying.

She tries to roll her eyes and realises they’re taped shut.

That only makes her panic more, because if they’re taped shut then she’s been unconscious for more than a day—

days, he did say, days

“Where is she?!”—“What’s goin’ on?!” —“Is she awake?!” “—get out of the way—”

The last voice is Tony’s.

It’s the only one she recognises instantly, and it’s the only one that actually makes her feel better.

“Hi, kid” he says, tone soft and almost relieved, “can you hear me? You’ve gotta let me know you’re okay..”

He sounds desperate. It hurts worse than her ribs.

I’m okay, she tries to say, “-‘m okay”

and then he’s laughing, loud and relieved, and she realises that at least some of that had been audible.

“Get the tape off her eyes” Tony instructs next, “up the pain relief.”

Just the knowledge that he’s there. That her brother is there taking control of the situation makes her feel better. Safer, and more able to relax.

She feels fingers on her face, gentle and cautious as they peel the adhesive strips away from her lashes.

“Keep them shut” a voice she recognises as Bruce advises, “Just for right now.”

“I know” she thinks— she says. That’s her voice. She’s speaking.

A smile tugs at her lips as she tries to wet them.

“I’m a doctor, remember?”

Yeah, it’s a little dry, but it’s her voice for sure.

And now there’s laughter, again.

So much laughter. Tony’s and Bruces, and others, mixing with the annoying medical sounds that are still going off in the background.

“Friday, dim the lights-”

I’m in tower medical, then, Y/N thinks, or Tony wouldn’t be talking to FRIDAY.

“-Alright, slowly—”

That’s Natasha.

That’s Natasha’s voice and god, she’s almost certain that’s her hand on her brow.

“—Open your eyes.”

With a poor attempt at a grimace, Y/N obeys. Blinking tiredly until her vision clears enough to make out the collection of faces surrounding her.

Tony and Natasha are the two closest. Both look hopelessly relieved. Steve is there too, off to the side with Bruce, he looks elated. They both do, actually, they’re both beaming so wide that she can’t help but try and return the expression, even though her cheeks ache.

Bucky.

He’s not there.

Her poor attempt at a grin drops instantly.

Eyes flicking around the room in frantic search-

What if he did something stupid after I went down?

“Hey” Tony cautions, reaching down to steady her head, “Hey, relax”

“Where is he?” she asks, dry voice cracking, “Bucky, is- is he okay?”

“He’s fine” Natasha replies, “He’s there, see, he hasn’t left.”

She watches the red head nod over to her right, to the side where the others aren’t gathered.

Oh.

He is there.

He’s sat on a plastic chair that looks ridiculously small compared to his frame, starring at her with wide, sore looking eyes and all she wants to comfort him.

She goes to reach out, but then she feels it.

Metal fingers curled around her palm. Warm and solid and locked in position.

“Hi” she whispers, seeing the sheer exhaustion he’s sporting, and realising he probably hasn’t even been blinking much while she’s been out— “Did ya’, miss me?”

Tony scoffs again, and she feels something cold running into her vein from the cannula he’s clearly messing with;

She doesn’t even bother to look. She trusts him completely, and besides, her gaze is set on the tears that have started to stream across Bucky’s face.

He’s still. Not even breathing in a visible way, but tears are now pouring from his eyes.

“I’m alright” she swears, “I’m okay, I promise.”

As she says that, she cringes. Something hurts.

There’s pressure on her side, and it’s painful. She grits her teeth and breathes.

“Sorry” Tony tells her, “I’m almost done.”

“What happened?” she asks, looking back at Natasha now.

“You got shot” the other woman replies, “Pushing Steve out of the way.”

“I’m so sorry-” Steve goes to say, Y/N cuts him off with a shake of her head that makes her temples throb.

“How long was I out?” she asks firmly, directing the conversation away from his misplaced remorse.

“3 days” Bruce replies, before Natasha can, “2 nights.”

“From a bullet wound?” she says, exasperated, “I’m getting old.”

Tony scoffs again, and then he’s back in her line of sight—

“It wasn’t a bullet that hit you, it was Steve they were aiming for-”

When she furrows her brow, he sighs, pawing at his goatie and frowning.

“-Remember those Super Solider ballistic plans we found in Berlin?”

Vaguely.

She vaguely remembers a USB stick full of weapon plans.

Tasers and grenades and smoke bombs full of crippling gas and -

Bullets that expand upon impact, releasing toxins into the muscle to paralyse the target while increasing the amount of blood loss—

“Oh, god” she moans, “That sucks.”

“You’re an idiot—” Natasha cuts in, just as Tony starts laughing again, relief making him almost giddy—

“I’m a hero” Y/N corrects smugly, “I”

“You could’ve died” Bucky says suddenly, in a voice that sounds totally shattered-

Ouch.

That hurts more than whatever her brother was doing to her wound.

“Hey” she exhales, turning her head back over to stare at him, “I told you, I’m alright”

“…I- I could’ve lost you” he replies weakly, like he hasn’t even heard her reply, “…You went down and I- I couldn’t-”

“-Buck” Steve cuts in, tone sympathetic but warning, “It wasn’t your fault.”

“Of course it wasn’t” Y/N agrees, hating how injured she looks, flat on her back on a hospital bed, “Is this what you’ve all been doing while I’ve been past out? Trying to decide who’s fault it was that I got shot?”

The disbelief in her tone turns almost angry by the time she’s finished her question.

“Seriously?” she says, bitter now, “It was my fault- There- I’ve answered it for you— Ow! Tony, what the hell are you doing?!”

“Sedating you” he replies calmly, “Your pulse is 210”

“Asshole”

He mutters out a ‘yep’ that sounds so cheerful she almost suppresses her groan of dismay-

Almost.

“I thought you wanted me awake” she says, angry now. “You’re going to sedate me because I’m telling you-“

“I’m sedating you because you’re going to give yourself a stroke” Tony cuts in.

She hears it then, the strain in his tone that lets her know that he’s no more happy about her returning to unconsciousness than she is.

That’s all it takes for her to stop fighting. To sag back onto the trolly with a sigh of defeat and final glance at Bucky which is half apologetic and half accusing.

Has he really been sitting by my bedside wondering if he could’ve gotten himself hurt instead? She thinks bitterly, Maybe he just wishes you could’ve changed things some how? But- how exactly?

What could he have done?

What could any of them done?

Darkness shrouds her before she can come up with any answers.

Her lack of clarity doesn’t matter, though. Because Bucky- Bucky has a list of answers.

He’s been formulating it since the second he took his place at her bedside, aching and non blinking with the image of the love of his life lying wounded on the ground.

Reminding himself of her new position, safely within the medical bay of the tower hadn’t helped much. Not with her looking the way she did.

Steve had called it ‘peaceful’.

“She looks peaceful, Buck.” He’d told him, “not like she’s in pain, she just needs to sleep it off- she took a hit”

Like he didn’t already know that she’d taken a hit.

She’d taken more than a hit.

She’d taken a super-soldier grade ballistic to the chest to save him. To save Steve. To save him from losing Steve.

‘It’s not his fault’ The ghost of Y/N’s voice had reminded him, or- or maybe it had been Natasha’s? Soft and Russian, whispering like their conversations should be a secret.

‘Don’t blame Steve, Barnes. He feels bad enough about it already’

In hindsight that was definitely Natasha.

Y/N only calls him by his last name when he’s in trouble. It’s always playful and teasing and never, ever, sandwiched by Russian.

Ms Romanoff on the other hand? She calls him Barnes more than any other name or title, and she’s always barking at him in whatever language she wants, though, somewhat expectedly, Russian is the default when they’re trying not to be overheard.

Why are they trying not be over heard now, anyway?

It’s not like it would’ve mattered if someone had heard them. Steve would be upset, he supposes, but, even that wouldn’t make a difference to his current situation.

Realising that almost makes him feel something other than the all consuming ache he’s been drowning in ever since he’d seen-

No.

Absolutely not.

Bucky is very good at not letting himself dwell on certain memories and that is one he has no intention of ever revisiting.

All he knows is that something changed the moment it happened.

Something in him changed. It’s like his DNA shifted to allow for more pain than he’d ever felt before, which is saying a lot really. Considering how much pain he’s lived through already.

All of that had been better.

He’d happily beg for another lifetime of Hydra tortures if it meant he could erase the memory of that.

But he can’t. He can’t do that. And he can’t feel anything other than the agony now it’s there. So, even when faced with the very real possibility of hurting his oldest friends feelings in a way that even he recognises as cruel, he can’t bring himself to care.

Not about anything other than Y/N, and the way her breathing is slower now.

Not much slower, but, yeah- it was rhythmic before. Quick, but stable. Now it’s… less.

Panic.

Panic makes his throat tight as he watches.

‘She’s fine’

That’s not Natasha.

That’s Steve.

There’s a brotherly hand on his shoulder and he doesn’t even make himself shrug it away. No, he just sits. Watching.

Making his list of what he could’ve done differently.

Of what they all could’ve done differently.

It’s a long list.

429 items long by the time she opens her eyes.

By the time Tony has made sure she closes them again its up to 500.

He wonders absentmindedly if he’s ever going to stop adding into it.

Maybe?

Probably not.

He knows people are talking around him. Tony and Bruce, Wanda even drops in to check on Y/N, but Bucky tunes them all out. Eventually Steve and Natasha become background noise. They blend in with the rhythmic beeping of machines and hum of the air conditioning.

‘Buck, did you hear me?’

He tilts his head a fraction, eyes not shifting from his lovers chest as a familiar voice presses for his attention.

‘I’ll go’ Natasha says calmly, clearly not expecting him to reply.

That’s fair. He wasn’t listening anyway.

‘I just thought he’d want to-‘

‘Want to what?’ He hears himself say, voice gruff and dry.

It’s sounds foreign to him now, like it’s coming from a stranger.

‘She’s going to want her own clothes’ Steve repeats, putting his palm back on his shoulder, "since she’ll be up soon, I figured you might want to go grab her something from your room’

It takes a while for his brain to process the other man’s sentence,

‘Where’s her brother?’ He asks, looking around for the other Stark, wondering why he wouldn’t have gone himself.

‘Tony crashed a couple of hours ago’ Natasha says conversationally, ‘now they know she’s out of the woods, him and Banner decided to finally try getting some rest- you might want to think about doin’ the same’

He shakes his head sternly. Eyes back on his partner.

Her chest is still rising and falling so gently that his own heart races in response.

‘She still keep her sweats in the second drawer across?’ Romanoff aks, not bothering to press the issue of him sleeping.

It takes Bucky a few seconds to answer her with a confident nod, and then she’s gone.

Steve leaves at some point too. Silently, or at least, without Barnes noticing, and then, Natasha comes back. She hands him a bundle of cream cashmere that is so soft that his metal fingers barely register the weight of it.

‘Be careful putting the top on’ Natasha advises, ‘it’s a button up, so it should be pretty easy’

He looks at her, sore eyed and confused. She cracks a laugh at his expression before crouching beside him so that she can make eye contact more easily.

‘If you swap her outfit now, she won’t have to move, if she does it herself when she wakes up, she’ll feel it’

He swallows drily, understanding. He looks over at Y/N again and feels tears spilling across his cheeks again.

Natasha shakes her head kindly, before reaching up to wipe them away with her palm. The action reminds him so much of Y/N and how she comforts him that he flinches. She stays silent, looking at him with sisterly concern.

‘This time tomorrow she’ll be telling you she’s fine’ Natasha says calmly, ‘until then, I promised her I’d always look out for you if she couldn’t, so do us both a favour and drink some water-‘ she pauses, handing him a metal flask, ‘and help her into her clothes, you’ll be gentler than me’

She pats his knee fondly before standing and leaving the room, knowing he’s more likely to follow her instruction if given space and privacy to do so.

He’s not sure when he brings the bottle to his lips, or when he puts it down, empty and light by his boots.

He doesn’t know when he makes the conscious choice to move either- to stand, peeling the covers away from Y/N so that he can remove the thin hospital gown from her body and start to replace it with the cozy offerings Natasha had brought down from the room they share.

The room he hasn’t been able to force himself to enter without her.

He disconnects her IVs with ease. Slipping her arms into the sleeves with such painfully gentle movements that she would have struggled to feel them even she had been awake. It’s only when he has to shift her hips to raise the bottoms that she seems to notice at all.

It’s only the slightest furrowing of her brow, but it makes his breath catch painfully in his throat all the same.

The thought of her hurting her is more than he can bare.

He finishes quite quickly after that, and then, he realised that he doesn’t want to return to his chair. He wants to stay right by her side, where he can feel the warmth of her breath in the air, where he can see details of her face, even when his eyes inevitably glaze over.

He drops to his knees without hesitation, resting his cheek on the pressed sheet by their tangled palms.

It’s dark.

Y/N realises as she blinks tiredly that it must be night time, now. There is a gentle glow from the monitor and the lights in the hall, but otherwise the room is shrouded in shadows.

Her eyes find the seat that Bucky had been in before, when she finds it empty, she hisses in a nervous breath, catching a glimpse of her own chest and noticing the clothes she’s wearing. Before the distraction can take too much of her attention, she hears the low breathing beside her. It’s so familiar that her pulse settles in response.

There he is.

Sleeping quietly with his face by their hands.

He looks exhausted. Even in the dark she can see the deep-set hollows beneath his eyes. She can see the sunken edges of cheeks that always appears when he skips a few to many meals.

“Your metabolism runs too quick for that, Barnes’ she reminds him in a horse whisper. “You need to eat”

That’s all it takes to startle him awake-

Her almost inaudible scolding.

“Hey” she purrs, seeing his eyes snap open, “I’m sorry, sweetheart… I didn’t mean to wake you”

She means that. He clearly needs to rest.

He’s gawking at her, horrified that she’s apologising to him.

Before he can formulate a response she swallows dryly. It looks painful and he’s instantly moving, reaching over with his flesh hand to pass her the glass of water that’s waiting on the side table.

She takes it silently, draining it before passing it back to him. He discards it quickly, and then she sighs;

“Come on, angel” she murmurs, “come snuggle up”

He blinks at her confusedly until she humours him, offering a smile as she pats the space beside her on the bed.

It’s small, a regular hospital trolly, but she moves herself over before he can object, knowing the pain the adjustment must’ve caused her-

“I’m worried about you, Buck” she says quietly, “I know I scared you, I’m sorry, but I’m okay- I promise, alright? I’m gonna be just fine”

He opens his mouth to object to her apology, but she shakes her head to silence him before he finds the words,

“I missed you” she adds gently, “I’m tired, baby- You must be too”

When he sees the way she’s looking at him, he finds himself nodding in agreement.

“Yeah” she says encouragingly, “yeah I thought so, come on, come up here” again, before he can object, she adds, “You’re not going to hurt me, Tony’s got me on so much morphine I can’t feel anything, and we both know I’m not going to back to sleep with you down there…”

It’s Bucky’s turn to sigh then. He knows when he’s beaten, and even though he knows he doesn’t deserve it, he really does want to just hold her.

Despite her assurances, he’s so afraid of harming her that he barely lets himself touch her, leaving half of his body over the edge of the bed as he puts his head mechanically on the pillow. He’s on his side to face her, and when he sees her laughing silently, shaking her head fondly he feels himself crying again. The tears burn his eyes, stinging sorely before spilling across his cheeks,

“C’mere…” she purrs, adjusting herself and trying her best to tuck him into her front, “don’t cry, sweet boy… I’m right here, I’m not going anywhere….”

“I’m so sorry” is all he manages to say as he surrenders, sniffing lamely as he curls into her embrace, “It’s all my fault- I nearly got you killed-”

“Hey” she cuts in, reaching down to cup his jaw, “it wasn’t even you I took the hit for”

He shakes his head stubbornly,

“I was watching Steve” he reminds her quietly, “I had his six, that way my position-”

“Yeah, during the job” she counters dryly, “we were done, Buck… nobody was holding their positions or I’d have been with Natasha, not Steve”

He goes to shake his head again, but her hand on his face stops him,

“James” she says seriously, “I knew what I was doing- I thought it was a bullet, but still- the only people to blame are me and the bastard that shot me, I’m guessing there’s no point asking how he is?”

“No” Bucky admits quietly,

“Did Natasha get him?” She wonders,

“Tony” he corrects gently, ashamed that it hadn’t been him.

She beams at his response though, and then he feels her fingers in his hair and has to bite back the desperate whine it draws from him.

“Did she take good care of you for me?”

He feels his cheeks burn pink,

“She tried” he confesses, “I-”

“Haven’t been very cooperative?” She guesses softly,

He nods, biting his lip to stop himself from sobbing.

“That’s okay” she purrs, leaning in to press a kiss against his brow, “I’m not always good at that either”

The skin is hot against her lips, she nuzzles into him, knowing how desperate he is for the contact. It feels nice for her too, having him so warm and close beside her-

“Let’s call a Jericho” she suggests next, knowing that considering their situation, that should’ve been the first thing out of her mouth.

He blinks at her, stunned.

A Jericho was something they came up with when they first got away from Hydra. When the idea of working with SHIELD was first broached with the young Stark, when Bucky had panicked and gushed about his fears about not being able to handle being in the field, despite his overwhelming desire to help out.

No matter what was going on, no matter who was asking either of them to do anything. If either of them ever wanted to pull out, for any reason, they’d call a Jericho, and they’d both know that until further notice, fighting was out of the question. They’d gone over the details with Tony, knowing that he’d be the one dealing with any disappointed council members should the two former winter soldiers decide to take a leave of absence.

He’d only ever called one, when he’d had a flash back so terrible on route to the job that he’d whispered the word frantic and in Russian to his partner, while they’d been sat together on the Quinn jet. She hadn’t said anything to him, just nodded once and whispered something to her brother. All Bucky remembers happening after that, was the hanger emptying around them, and Y/N turning the craft around, flying them both straight back to the tower. Nobody had ever questioned them, and he’d never had to explain.

Even now, he thinks she’s probably calling it on his behalf. Despite the nagging guilt that thought breeds, he can’t help but feel an overwhelming wave of relief.

‘Yeah’ she nods encouragingly, ‘yeah, baby… Jericho, huh? I’ll let you fuss over me for a while… just promise me one thing”

He’s exhausted he realises. 3 days without sleep had finally caught up with him, he can’t even make himself reply.

Anything, he thinks tragically, I’ll do anything, I swear-

“Stop blaming yourself” she requests gently, knowing he can’t really help it, “don’t blame Steve, don’t blame anybody, okay? If I thought any of you could’ve done something to stop it, I’d have told you…”

Hes crying again. He can feel it. And then, before he can lock his jaw to stop it, a sob jumps up from his throat.

“Barnes” she whispers again, “it wasn’t your fault, don’t beat yourself up because I got brave, you held your position, you did so good in there—”

“I- I- didn’t keep you safe” he argues wetly, words cracking in his throat,

“Sweet, sweet, solider” she says adoringly, “of course you did, even while I was passed out you kept watch”

I did, he thinks urgently, I kept watch- just like he’d done back then, when the medical staff were far from caring, where watching from wherever they could was the only way they could protect the other from further harm-

She nods in agreement, even though he hadn’t spoken.

“You did great” she murmurs gently, “now, you need to rest up, okay- rest up with me”

Masterlist

[fueledbysano]

𝐈 𝐖𝐀𝐍𝐓 𝐈𝐓 𝐀𝐋𝐋 kazutora hanemiya

"I can be a better man. I can be a better man for you. I hope, you know, if you'll let me. I can be a better man with you."

♱ pairing: kazutora x afab!reader

♱ content/warning: MATURE. MDNI. unprotected sex

♱ a/n: everyone say thank you to @mztoman for commissioning this fic! 🤍 if you are interested for commissioning a fic, full details are in my navigation^

mdni banner by benkeibear 🤍

♱ 2.9K

Kazutora was at a loss. He had been released from prison after several years, but his friends were nowhere to be found, and he had no place to stay. With Chifuyu gone, and Takemichi in jail, he had no choice but to start from scratch, and that meant finding a job and a place to live. He wandered around the city, which once knew in the back of his mind but now seemed like a different place altogether. 

Without a family, his gang, and his best friends, he was a new man.

It was the third day Kazutora had spent the entire day searching for a job, finally landing success. He was tired, but as he stepped on the train to head home, he couldn't shake off the feeling of relief instead of the hopelessness that had been gnawing at him for the past few days. Just as he was about to take his seat, he accidentally bumped into a young woman standing nearby, and they both stumbled forward.

Instantly, they both started to apologize to each other, their voices meshing together in a jumbled mess of apologies. Kazutora couldn't help but notice the woman's bright smile, her gentle voice, and pleasant face. Even though it had been a long day, she exuded a certain energy that was infectious.

As they sat down, she let out a sigh of relief and apologized for the inconvenience once again. “Are you okay?” Kazutora asks, “Yes, thank you.” She kindly replied before shortly noticing the stack of resumes on Kazutora’s lap. “Any luck?” Kazutora was surprised by her empathy, and found himself making conversation with her.

“Yeah, a record store.” He softly chuckled. “Record store? How cool… to be honest I thought you were some sort of pro musician, but, near enough.” She chuckled, and Kazutora was intrigued. 

“Oh yeah? What made you think that?” He asks. “Well, you have a very unique hairstyle and clothes. And that cool tattoo too! At least, it’s the vibe you give off.” She answered, feeling a strange sense of recognition.

He chuckled at her enthusiasm softly with a smile, “That would be really cool…” He nodded, “But yeah, I do love bands. That’s why I also considered working at the record store.” He explained. Kazutora had always been a solitary person, spending most of his time alone and not really paying attention to the people around him, but something about her felt familiar.

“Congratulations again for getting the job, …” She paused for a moment, realizing that she hadn’t gotten his name yet. “Kazutora.” He smiled and shook her hand. “Kazutora…Hanemiya?.” He chuckled softly, not used to being referred to with his last name, the one that he shared with a terrible human being he unfortunately once called “father”.

and that was the moment when it all suddenly connected for her— this was the delinquent Kazutora she once knew in middle school. The one who pulls his friend out of class, and goes out to gang fights. She couldn't help but think about the incident that had happened in the past. She remembered the day when he was caught stealing from a motorcycle shop, and how he accidentally killed the owner. It was a horrible incident that had left a lasting impact on the whole school and town.

But despite that, she knew that she understood that there was a whole story and context behind that. She had always seen the best in people, and she believed that everyone deserves a chance to redeem themselves. And now, as they had reconnected, she felt as though they were put in each other’s paths..

“It’s me, [ Y / N ] —” “[ L / N ]...” Kazutora finished for her.

Life is funny. They weren’t so close in high school, they’ve had a couple of interactions, all of which were pure, pleasant memories. She was kind, understanding, and she truly saw the good in people, even when they didn't see it themselves.

“You remember.” She was quite surprised, not expecting him to remember her at all.

“Yeah, I have a pretty good memory.” He smiled. “What are you up to these days?” He asks.

“Well, that story is going to take longer than my stop.” [ Y / N ] simply said. “I’ll just say that… it’s nice to have a fresh start.” She added.

“I know what you mean.” Kazutora agreed, and she smiled back, understanding where he was coming from.

Finally, when the train reached its destination, he mustered up the courage to ask for her number. And to his surprise, she gave it to him, with a small smile and a soft "good luck" as the train doors opened.

As he stepped off the train and into the night, he knew that she had given him more than just her number— she had given him hope.

As Kazutora walked through the bustling city to his new job, he couldn't help but think about her. The girl with the sweet and bubbly personality who had shown him so much kindness all those years, and when they met each other again on the train. He wanted to have a connection with her, but he also knew that he first needed to get his life together. He wanted to be the best version of himself for her, to be someone she could be proud of.

He reached the job site and got to work, feeling nervous but also excited at the prospect of starting a new chapter in his life. The work was tough, but he threw himself into it, learning as much as he could throughout the day and impressing his boss with his work ethic.

As the day wore on, while closing up the shop, Kazutora found himself thinking more and more about [ Y / N ]. He wondered if she was thinking about him, too.

"Good job today, Kazutora," she said, a warm smile on her face. He turned around to see her, looking just as beautiful as he remembered. She was holding a cup of boba and had a bright, energetic attitude that made him feel light and confident just looking at her.

“[ Y / N ]? Hey, I wasn’t expecting you.” He gave her a soft, welcoming smile. “I know, I’m sorry…” She chuckled. “It’s just that… you said you work in a record store around here, and… funny, because I work at a dental clinic a couple blocks away.” She says.

“Really? Well, that’s perfect… because then… I can take you home~?” He offered his hands for the bundle of shopping bags in her other hand.”

“I’d like that.” She smiled and handed him her bags.

As the day ended and they made their way back to the train station, they found themselves opening up to each other and getting to know more about their lives. As they talked, Kazutora couldn't help but be struck by how much she understood him. Even though they'd just met, he felt safe and comfortable in her presence. 

And as they continued to talk, as the train rumbled on towards its destination, he knew that there was a reason why they were brought into each other’s lives. He was determined to make something more of himself, to be the kind of person he could be proud of, the kind of person she deserved.

“I never really planned on staying here, basically. When I landed my first job out of the city, I got into a relationship with my superior and… well… the jerk turned out to be married. The wife showed up at work and started rambling about how I was a homewrecker.” He couldn't help but feel a sense of anger and frustration on her behalf, angry how someone could take advantage and betray her like that.

“Since then, no one would hire me in town. And I thought fuck it and returned here.”

He asked her what he could do to help, and she told him that she just needed someone to listen. He was happy to do that for her, to be there for her and to offer her a listening ear. And as they talked, she felt a sense of peace and calm wash over her.

They have reached their stop and headed to [ Y / N ]’s apartment complex. “I’d invite you inside, but my roommate is currently moving out so it’s really cluttered.” [ Y / N ] explained. “Ah, I understand, I’ve lived in worse circumstances.” Kazutora jokes. “I practically live in a can of sardines. Plus it’s under a train track so I get three hours of sleep max. But I guess that’s an upgrade from prison.” He chuckled.

“Come live with me.”

"What!?" he asked, unable to hide the shock in his voice

“Yeah… it’s hard to look for a new roommate anyway. I don't have the time for doing all that.” She explained. 

Kazutora couldn't believe his luck. He had just met her again after all these years, and now he had the chance to live with her, to spend more time with her, to get to know her even better. He didn't want to mess things up, so he did his best to act calm and collected.

“Are pets allowed?”

“Sure.”

She smiled at him, clearly pleased with his response. "I'm sure you'll be a great roommate," she said, placing a hand on his shoulder. "And besides, it's not like we're strangers. We're old friends, remember?"

He was determined to not make her regret meeting him again, to make himself into the person he always knew he could be, and to show her that he was worth the chance she had given him. He knew that he had a lot of work to do, but with her by his side, it’s like he took a big step forward. After all, maybe he didn’t really lose everything…

Christmas is a time of year for joy, for spending time with loved ones and creating memories that will last a lifetime. And for [ Y / N ], Christmas was supposed to be a time to escape the cold and spend some time with her ex-boyfriend. That's when she remembered the vacation house she had booked, but with no one to go with, she wasn't sure what to do. But then she thought of Kazutora, and how he had been there for her through everything. She decided to invite him to join her on the trip, hoping that he would say yes.

At first, Kazutora was hesitant. He wasn't sure if it was a good idea to go on a trip with someone he had such strong feelings for. But after thinking it over, he decided that he couldn't pass up the opportunity to spend some time with her outside of their daily routine.

As they made their way to the vacation home, they couldn't help but feel a sense of excitement and anticipation. They couldn't help but notice the romantic atmosphere. Each corner of the house was decorated with lights and Christmas ornaments, and the scent of fresh cookies lingered in the air. They could feel the tension between them growing, and they both knew that this trip was going to be different from anything either of them had experienced before.

As the fire crackled in the fireplace, Kazutora and the[ Y / N ] sat close together, lost in their own thoughts. The comfort of each other's presence was palpable, and they both knew that they had been dancing around their feelings for each other for far too long.

Kazutora finally broke the silence, his voice barely above a whisper. "I know that you were supposed to go to this place with someone else, but I'm glad that it ended up being me." His eyes were locked on hers, and there was a warmth in them that made her heart flutter.

She smiled, taking his hand in hers. "I'm glad it was you, too." She paused, searching for the words to express what she was feeling. As she looked into his eyes, she knew that he felt it  too.

They sat in silence for a moment, taking in the weight of their confession.

Kazutora leaned in, his face just inches from hers. "I love you," he whispered, his voice barely above a whisper. "I've loved you for so long, but I was too afraid to say it."

[ Y / N ]'s eyes filled with tears at his words, and she pulled him close, kissing him passionately. "I love you too, Kazutora," she said, her voice shaking with emotion. "I've always loved you." [ Y / N ] soon found herself  sitting on Kazutora’s lap, leaning in for another steamy kiss.

His fingers slowly rested on her hips, his heart rate picking up when he felt a surge of emotions wash over him. For the first time in his life, he was experiencing something so pure and beautiful, and it was with someone he cared about deeply. He was nervous, but excited, and as their lips met, he felt like he was on top of the world. He had never done so intimate before, and he didn't know what to expect, but he knew that this was special.

As they pulled apart, he looked into her eyes, and he could see the love and the kindness that he had always seen in her. He knew that this moment was the start of something beautiful, and he was ready to give his all to make it last.

“You look even prettier straddling me like this, sweetheart~” He admired her face, stroking her cheek. As [ Y / N ]’s lips begin to descend onto him, Kazutora could feel his heart pounding furiously in his chest. He can tell that her body is just as passionately waiting for his touch and kisses. So his hands go over her hips, pulling her closer to his body.

Kazutora’s hands slowly start to move upward, brushing up against her panties. He starts to pull on the fabric, looking at her with intensity. Her heart is beating rapidly right now as she breathes heavily above him. He feels the heat coming from her body, feeling her touch against his. He slowly brings his lips back up to her lips and kisses her deeply, his lust and desire overcoming him now.

He pulls her dress up, leaving her in her bra on top of him.

“Mr. Hanemiya…” She whispered sensuously, slowly working her hands down his pants. “It’s cold, isn’t it? May I warm you up~?” [ Y / N ] bats her eyes, enough for Kazutora not to notice her fingers beginning to undo his jeans. The way his last name rolled out of her tongue perfectly, the only time he’ll ever feel loved hearing it.

He pulls her closer to him and lets out another soft moan, feeling her bare body mold and conform against his. 

Kazutora’s eyes go wide as he realizes that she is making this quite intense. At the feeling of her hands going into his underwear, his breathing begins to quicken and his body tenses up as he feels his desires go out of control.

He slowly pulls her up just a bit, just enough to touch his aching tip to her entrance.

“Only if I get to do it first…” He whispered, finally feeling all of her in one swift movement. [ Y / N ]’s hands rushed to his long hair to tug on them, discerning Kazutora’s body as they connected for the first time. 

Kazutora feels [ Y / N ]’s lips on his, as gently pressing into his again and again, in sync with her rocking hips. Her kisses and thrusts send a wave of pleasure through his body, making him moan softly and unable to control his desires.

Kazutora wanted to cum right then and there, but he knew he wanted to make this last for her. “Ugh, I love this.” He shuddered, body jolting slightly as she pulsed around his cock. She rocked down on him, purposely letting her hear his desperate whines. Kazutora clutched her ass tightly, her pussy touching his base and breathing heavily as he hit deeper.

[ Y / N ] rocked her hips back and forth, enjoying the sensation of the stretch by his thick cock. Within seconds, his pace starts to grow wild, drilling into her pussy, their hips now clashing together. He was finally getting some action after using his sole imagination in so long.

Gripping both of his shoulders tightly, she began to bounce harder on his cock, the ginger radiance of the fireplace shining on her face which made it heightened the experience for Kazutora. “You’re the only one I’ve ever wanted so badly…” He whispered right next to her ear.

“I love getting to know you like this…” Her cheeks flushed warm. “I wanna cum…” He sighed and planted his hands back on her hips, his thrusts growing more desperate. “I wanna help you with that.” She moaned softly before speeding up her own pace. “What a good girl, showing me those cute tits bounce while you fuck yourself on my dick.” He grunted, bleached hair sticking to his forehead as they continued to fuck each other.

“Ah, Hanemiya-sama~” The explosive sensation ricochets through her body, making him feel her warm cum gushing down his balls just as he spilled into her pussy. He pulls out and you breathlessly collapse on his chest, feeling the light afterglow from the intense moment.

His eyes softened as he watched you snuggle up to him breathlessly. He could feel his heart pounding in his chest, and he knew that he was going to remember this moment forever. He closed his eyes, feeling the warmth of her body against his, and he knew that he was exactly where he was meant to be.

[climbthemountain2020]

Your Eyes Whisper Have We Met - Chapter 11

Part 11/18 | Ao3

Thanks as always to my babies @witch-and-her-witcher and @cauldronblssd

Feyre was lost in thought looking at a tapestry in a shop’s front window, the vibrant colors blending and melting together like paint rather than woven strands. She wondered how it would feel under her fingers, how the threads might move or shift beneath her touch. It depicted a night sky amongst tall columns of clouds, the moon and stars nestled in between and an ethereal glow lining the edges. It was filled with deep navy and purple tones, but it also had the bright highlights of periwinkle and lavender. It was a masterpiece, and she couldn’t help but think of Rhys, as she had been for days.

Feyre’s thoughts had been a jumbled mess since her discovery more than a week ago. Rhys–her Rhys–was the illustrious, nefarious High Lord of the Night Court. It was almost laughable to think about–more so that she’d missed so many signs. She’d spent the last months scared of this male she only knew of through stories while pining for her strong, soft, sweet Rhys. She’d saved the Lord of Nightmares’ book for last because of the lack of chance she thought she’d had to encounter him. And yet, there he’d been, those violet eyes so poorly captured in the magical book, lacking their mischief and joy and love. The galaxies shone in his eyes when she’d stood face to face with him, and no book, magical or not, could ever hold a candle to that.

“I can see you outside, somewhere beneath the stars with a clear view of the sky,” he’d said to her the night they met. Cad. She nearly laughed now at the ridiculousness of it all.

She’d tried over the course of the last few days to remember what she knew for certain, having unfolded and refolded those pieces of paper with everything she knew about him until the creases became worn and fragile.

Rhys was beneath the mountain and had been for the better part of fifty years.

Rhys had somehow snuck into the human lands and attended her family’s masquerade ball, meeting her and changing the course of both of their lives.

Rhys’s presence that night had a domino effect, causing her to get to know Vincent, then meet Vilja, then Lucien and Tamlin and Calla.

She had somehow repeatedly met Rhys in her dreams since then and fallen in love with him there. If she’d been uncertain before, the last week had convinced her. How else could she have reconciled him with the terrifying Lord of Night and not run screaming?

She’d looked at that picture more times now than she could count, and yet, she could not find it anywhere within herself to feel any ounce of fear towards him, to what he was. Other than the fact that she knew the truth now, she’d shocked herself to find that absolutely nothing had changed. She would still do everything in her power to get Calla to break the curse. And if she couldn’t, Feyre knew she would be going Under the Mountain, every bit of her heart and soul ready to free him, even if he was the High Lord of Nightmares.

“-eyre!” She jumped. Calla was waving a hand in front of her face, and Feyre looked down to where her fingers were absently stroking the glass of the store that held the tapestry.

“You’ve been so lost in your head lately. What is going on?” Calla hadn’t been around quite as much since Calanmai, but Feyre couldn’t find it in her to be upset. It meant she was spending more time with Tamlin, and every single day counted. Feyre spent most of her time now with Lucien, the training becoming nearly second nature. She was still not as proficient as she’d like to be, either with her strength or with her magic, but she reminded herself often that the improvements she was making were all steps towards her final goal.

He had asked her the previous week if she’d ever tried winnowing, and they’d practiced to disastrously frustrating results. She couldn’t summon even the smallest bit of her magic towards it, making her more and more irritated and finally culminating in Lucien insisting that they stop for the day.

She’d tried twice since and still nothing.

“Sorry, I’m just tired.” It was her go-to excuse these days. She wasn’t ready to tell any of them what she’d learned–she wasn’t sure she ever would be. If she loved Rhys, if it was meant to be, and the people she considered her family hated him, where would that leave her?

“You’ve been tired a lot lately. Is everything alright?” She nodded, faking a smile to Calla and stepping back from the window.

Today, Calla and Feyre had wandered into the nearest town, only about a twenty minute walk away from the manor. Feyre had badly needed a distraction to keep her mind from wandering in circles, and Calla had offered to join. It was a beautiful town, thriving and busy, and Feyre had filled a bag with fresh treats and apples from the market, as well as some small tins of paint and canvas.

Feyre forced a laugh. “Lucien must be losing his edge in training. I’ll need to rib him about it.” Calla looked unconvinced, but nodded anyway.

“You ready to head back?”

Feyre nodded, tucking her bag into the crook of her arm and turning from the store. Feyre was ready to get home. Another nightfall meant another chance to see him. She hadn’t managed to dream of him–or otherwise–since Calanmai. Truly, she didn’t want to dream of him anymore, or whatever was happening. She wanted to be back in his arms for good. She wanted to feel him the way she had before, his skin against her skin, heartbeat to heartbeat. She longed for it in a way she’d never longed for anything in her life–a bone-deep need that ached through her every time she thought about it.

Lucien had noticed her distance too, noting it not just in their training but her general demeanor. She had tried to distract where she could, shifting the conversation to Tamlin and Calla, which usually seemed to be enough. Their new and tentative physical relationship was a big difference in the day-to-day happenings of the manor. Of course, barbs were still being thrown, but there were also covert touches being passed back and forth that neither Feyre nor Lucien failed to note. It was hard not to be giddy about the possibility unfolding before their very eyes, but Feyre stringently tamped it down, refusing to get her hopes up too high.

After the second night of Calanmai celebrations, Lucien and Feyre hadn’t said a word when Calla had joined them for drinks on the back porch, and they had elbowed each other and giggled like school children when neither Calla nor Tamlin showed up the following night, congratulating each other on their scheming successes.

Calla, of course, refused to talk about it, but Feyre found it endearing that she would blush any time it was brought up.

And she did bring it up as often as she could. “So…have you guys, you know…” She turned to Calla and wiggled her eyebrows while Calla turned ten shades of scarlet, filling the time while they walked back to the manor.

“Feyre.”

“What? Inquiring minds want to know.”

“You mean you and Lucien want to know. Busybodies.” She stuck her tongue out at Feyre, who laughed.

“This is what friends do–talk about things.”

“Oh, is it? Or are you just nosey?”

“Why can't both of these things be true?”

Calla shoved her playfully, but relented. “Okay, yes, maybe we have…been physical–”

In the distance, the thundering of hooves startled them out of the conversation.

Cresting over the hill coming from the direction of the manor were Lucien and Tamlin on horseback, clouds of dust flaring furiously up from the road in their wake as they galloped near violently towards the women. Even from this distance, Feyre could tell something was very, very wrong.

As they neared, Feyre could see they weren’t slowing down. She turned quickly to Calla.

“Hold your arms out and get ready to jump.” Calla looked panicked, but followed her directions, and the two males were suddenly upon them, sweeping them onto horseback without even breaking stride.

“What happened?” Feyre yelled over the sound as she gripped Lucien, the two horses making a wide turn to race back in the direction of the manor.

“There's been an incident. We had to make sure you were safe,” Tamlin yelled across the space between them.

“What incident?” Calla pried, her eyes squinted from the harsh speed of the air hitting her face.

But Tamlin stayed silent while all manner of things whizzed through Feyre’s mind, her heart racing as she began to panic.

What had happened? What had Tamlin seen that he didn’t want them to know?

Suddenly, she found herself seeing the same road but from somewhere else–someone else’s eyes. Then she was pulled violently backwards into a different place, the dining room. It was different, though, as though she was viewing it all from the head of the table, from Tamlin’s seat. She could feel emotions that were not her own: possession, anger, fear.

She could see Lucien in his seat, back as stiff as a rail as he looked towards the doors. Her chair and Calla’s were empty, but the males were wearing the same outfits that they currently had on. She was seeing the lunch they'd missed while in town.

She had unintentionally slipped into Tamlin’s mind.

Her eyes–Tamlin’s eyes–focused, and saw a figure parading into the manor of Spring where they ate every day.

It was Rhys. He was there, the same beautiful male her heart beat for, just as he’d appeared that first night at the ball. He was dressed in his fancier clothes–he’d been much more casual in their dream visits. His hair was lovely, pushed back off his face, the lights from above illuminating his cheekbones and feral smile.The air about him was different, cocky, toying as he paced around the table like a predator cornering prey. It wasn’t in the teasing, coaxing way that he’d done it that night at the masquerade, though. This was a dangerous fae male in front of her here, and Tamlin’s anxiety and anger at his presence had Feyre feeling the hairs on the back of her neck stand on end.

She couldn’t hear the words he spoke in the memory, muffled like they were being spoken underwater, but she could feel the wavering emotions in Tamlin, see the clench of Lucien’s jaw and angry retorts as Rhys baited them, his smirk getting rise after rise out of them.

But then Rhys suddenly stopped prowling, his entire body language changing, seizing up and freezing like he’d been forcibly stopped by something. He gripped the back of the chair in front of him–Feyre's chair, empty since she and Calla had been in town, and all the sound came through at once.

“Who sits here?” His voice was calm, but the undercurrent held a promise of violence, the words spoken through a suddenly clenched jaw.

Tamlin and Lucien had remained silent.

“Who sits here?” His fingers tightened, cracking the polished hardwood that made up the back of the chair. “I can smell her. Now tell me, who sits here?” He smiled, but there was no mirth in it, only a threat.

“A human girl. She was here, but she’s gone.” The words came out of Feyre, but it was Tamlin’s voice she heard.

“Gone?”

His face was the picture of cool nonchalance, regality rippling off him in waves. But Feyre could see his eyes were wild, that normal calm and polished demeanor gone in favor of something near-crazed.

“She was a human girl. We brought her here for the treaty, but she was miserable. She could never have loved me. So, I sent her home.” Tamlin’s voice was powerful too, and Feyre’s mind shook with the command in it.

Rhys snarled, shoving forward and seething as he got into Tamlin’s face.

“Where. Is. She?” He punctuated each word with the gnashing of teeth. Feyre knew she should be afraid, knew that someone with his sort of power could rip straight through her and that her instincts should be screaming at her to run. But the red hot sensation curling in her lower belly at the thought that all this stemmed from him scenting her wasn’t born of fear.

Suddenly, she was ripped from Tamlin’s mind, the memory spiraling away into nothing. They were stopped in the yard, Calla and Lucien already dismounting the horses, but Tamlin was staring straight at her, his expression as shocked and bewildered as she felt.

Lucien pulled Feyre down from the horse by the waist, already trying to push her back towards the manor. Tamlin broke his intense stare to tell Calla to go with them while he resurrected the wards. Feyre could see it now, if she focused, the bright strings absolutely in shambles near the forest edge.

He'd come in right there. He'd been here. And she'd missed him.

Something sour and crestfallen twisted in her chest. She was barely able to walk as she stumbled up the steps.

“What is going on?” Calla demanded while stomping her foot like a child. Lucien tried to keep ushering them in, but Feyre had stopped to watch Tamlin reweave the wards.

“Someone was here, and we need to get you somewhere safe. Keep going.”

But Feyre remained on the manor’s steps, listening to Lucien and a protesting Calla disappear into the house.

She could smell him. She could smell him here in the breeze, the scent lingering. She felt like her heart was breaking.

She'd spent all this time keeping him from here. But he'd finally come; he’d found her anyway. And he'd missed her, and now all she wanted to do was cry.

She lost track of Tamlin, jolting when his hand touched her shoulder, eyes both wary and full of concern. She wondered what it was he saw on her face. He knew now, at least about her daemati powers. He’d felt her there, and there was no use denying it.

“What did you tell him?”

“That we’d had a human girl here that we’d sent away. I gave the name of a girl that Calla had spoken about from her village. Clare Beddor. It seemed to be enough to get him to leave.”

Feyre nodded. “Will he return?” The hope in her voice felt badly disguised.

“I don't know.”

She thought of the memory, the way that Rhys had seemed so different, so intentionally frightening. She still couldn't find it in herself to be afraid. It was as easy as breathing to see that mask he wore, as obviously as the one from the night of the ball.

Was this what Vilja had been trying to tell her about things not being as they appeared? Had she assumed Feyre would see him, see the role he had to play and find him lacking? Too twisted and wrong for her?

The lack of faith punched the air from her lungs, and the longing and sadness and heartache swam roughly within her. She knew his heart, the steady beating of it as familiar as her own, it seemed. She could see him, all of him, and she found it still didn't perturb her at all. In fact, all she could think about now was how much she ached to see him here in Spring, standing in front of her and not at all a dream. She didn’t care about how mad he’d be, consequences be damned.

“Come, Feyre. Let's get inside.”

Lucien and Calla were arguing when they entered, Feyre feeling like an outsider in her own body as she dragged herself through the doors and into the foyer.

“Calla, go to your room and pack.” Tamlin’s voice was soft, but the command in it was clear.

“Pack? But I'm not leaving–”

“Go.”

“No, I–”

“GO,” he bellowed, startling Feyre out of her daze. “I will not risk you. You'll leave tomorrow. I'll come to discuss with you in a bit.”

Calla went to object again, but Feyre's haunted eyes met hers and the words seemed to die in Calla’s throat. She turned on her heel and made her way up the stairs to her room.

The smell of Rhys was stronger here in the foyer, the citrus scent burning her eyes with unshed tears.

He was here. And she’d missed him.

She couldn’t make herself think of anything else. She felt a single tear drip down her face, hot as it carved its way to her neck. What was wrong with her? This had been what she'd fought for

Lucien put a hand on her shoulder. “It’s okay, Feyre. We will keep you safe.” He’d misunderstood her tears, thinking she was scared of the intruder they’d had, not that her heart was breaking in two at the thought of him coming and going without her.

But Tamlin stood across the foyer, emerald eyes focused through his mask on Feyre and Feyre alone.

She took a deep breath. No more lies.

“It’s time we talk.”

She made for the back porch, to the seats she’d come to know so well, the place of comfort with those she cared for the most.

“Please don't hate me.” She sighed as they all sat. “Actually, you probably should hate me. I’ll understand if you do. Just agree to hear me out first.” They looked at her skeptically, but Tamlin spoke first.

“You have powers.”

“Yes.”

“More than fire?” Lucien added.

“Yes.”

“Which ones?”

Feyre swallowed hard. “All of them?” Lucien looked lost, but Tamlin seemed skeptical more than anything, his brow furrowed over his eyes as they looked at the arm band she wore and never took off. He’d given it to her because he cared about her; he wanted her to be able to protect herself. She could almost see him wondering if she’d done it to make a fool of him.

“What are you?” he asked.

“Human.”

“You're not half fae?” Lucien seemed genuinely surprised.

“I'm not. I'm a human girl, and I made a bargain.” She lifted her sleeve and let the glamour drop, the three stars shining darkly against her freckled skin. Lucien and Tamlin exchanged a look. “I think it's best I start from the beginning.”

So she did. She told them about the ball, the dreams, about Vincent. The ache in her heart when she thought about the months away from him was palpable, and she hoped he was doing well.

She told them about how she'd wandered into the woods at his prompting, finding the fae female she now knew was Vilja, to which Tamlin’s eyes shot to hers.

“She's okay?”

“Oh yes, gave me quite a run for my money, in fact.”

He laughed a little wetly, looking away. “She'll do that.”

“But she's fine, Tamlin. Very cozy in her cabin of lovely trinkets, and well protected in the woods, and very pushy. She made a deal with me that she would give me the powers of the High Lords, allow me to cross into Prythian, and to help. She told me that I had a part to play in helping stop her, and that if I could get my fae male to love me, openly and without pretense, then I could become immortal and stay forever.”

The silence seemed to stretch for ages, even though Lucien had already gotten an inkling of the story. She’d wondered how much he’d shared with Tamlin.

“So, it isn't your father you seek then?” Tamlin asked, piecing his information together.

“No, it is not.”

“But your betrothed is ...trapped there?” So Lucien hadn't told him about their conversation. She had a brief flare of gratitude to him for keeping her secrets.

“He is.”

“And you are going to help with everything, in hopes of what?”

She went to speak, but in anticipation of the coming words, her throat twisted–the hold on all of them prevented her yet again from speaking plainly. Feyre grunted as she rolled her eyes. “I am so sick of this. Yes. I am here to help. I'm still not sure if the intent was that I was simply to lead Calla to love Tamlin, or if there's something more to it. Vilja couldn't tell me much either, and Vincent didn't know more specifics. As soon as I passed into Spring, I lost the ability to discuss it, too.”

Both males sat in stunned silence, Lucien leaning back in his chair and running his fingers through his hair.

“Does Calla know?” Feyre shook her head.

“Have you been in our heads?” Lucien asked, his voice more wary than it had been.

“I slipped into Calla’s once accidentally, then Tamlin’s today. Another accident. I've been teaching myself how to control the powers, but some of them I clearly still don't have a good hold on. I'm so sorry I lied to you both.”

Tamlins eyed her. “Why did you?”

“Vilja warned me to play my role. And I was scared. Then I grew to care for you both, and for the first time in my life I felt like I had a real home somewhere.”

Lucien's eyes softened at that. “The friendship wasn't a lie then?” The question was so abruptly vulnerable that it stole Feyre’s breath away.

“No! Gods, no. It's what kept me from telling you for so long. I understand if you don't want me here, but please know I felt it was the only way. I never intended to hurt either of you.”

They exchanged another glance with each other, then Lucien spoke.

“Truly, we only kept you here so willingly at first because we thought you'd be good bait if we ever caught a human woman with the treaty.” She caught a glint of mischief in Lucien's eye, the relief hitting her so squarely that she thought she might sob. “And then we realized we didn’t mind having you around.”

“So you aren't mad?” She was scared to hope. Could she tell them everything and still keep them in her life? They seemed okay with things so far. Would that change when she told them exactly who her intended was?

“We can move past it,” Lucien readily supplied with a smile, but Tamlin held her gaze.

“There's something else, isn't there?” He’d seen the way she reacted in his mind about Rhys. Seen how she’d cried on the steps. There was no way he didn't know, and there was no more time for secrets anyway.

“Yes.” Her voice was a whisper.

“What is it?”

“I didn't realize until recently, until I was reading the books on the courts. I knew his name but I didn't….”

Tamlin’s eyes found hers, and it was like he knew before she even opened her mouth. “No.”

“No, what?” Lucien looked between them, clearly having missed something.

“The ring around your neck. I thought I'd seen it before…” Tamlin spoke, his eyes faraway. Lucien, clearly having never noticed it, peered at her chest while she scoffed.

“Hey, eyes up–”

“It's Rhysand, isn't it? He lost his mind here because he could smell you.” Feyre nodded, feeling as though she’d possibly just wrecked the only family she’d ever truly chosen for herself.

“He isn't what you think he is,” she supplied before he could say anything else, trying to minimize the blow of the information she’d just dropped on them.

“My family is dead because of him, Feyre.”

“And his because of you, right?” There was no bite to her words, no venom, and she spoke then softly, but she may as well have punched Tamlin in the face for the way he looked at her. Hurt, then betrayal, then rage crossed his face in the flash of a second. She tried to explain, but Tamlin was already shifting with an inhuman roar, the great beast unleashing and tearing off across the steps of the manor and to the woods.

Feyre and Lucien let the silence sit between them for a few minutes.

“If what you say is true then he's a convincing actor.” Lucien didn’t bother hiding the distaste in his voice, refusing to even look at Feyre as he spoke.

Her emotions were warring. The need to defend Rhys was roaring within her, a writhing, unfamiliar thing that felt like she’d swallowed a beast. But the ache of Lucien treating her so coldly when she’d come to care for him so much easily tempered the edges off her fury. She knew she deserved this for keeping the truth from them, but it hurt.

“What if he has to be? You're the only ones not….there…right? If he's been there for fifty years? Can you imagine what he's had to sacrifice?” Lucien looked at her incredulously.

“Do you know anything about him?” He stood up to walk back inside, clearly angry and frustrated and done with the conversation.

She thought about it. Did she? The amount of time they'd actually spent together was laughably small. Perhaps she didn't know him as well as she'd thought. Gods, what if she'd made a mistake?

But that feeling inside her, that glowing well where her magic rested within her chest seemed to vibrate even at the suggestion. Her very instincts roared in offense that she'd even suggest such a thing.

No. She did know Rhys. She couldn’t explain it, but she was sure she knew him better, arguably, than anyone else. Somehow, she saw the parts of him that he did not allow others. She felt it when their magic tugged and pulled and wanted to play together. She was his, but he was hers, too.

“Just consider, Lucien, that maybe you don't know the real him.” Lucien scoffed, dismissing her, and that beast within roared again. She leashed it with all the willpower that she had. He didn’t look back at her, his focus squarely on the house in front of him.

“They call him her whore, you know.” It was the cruelest and coldest she’d ever heard his voice. A barb meant to harm.

All the blood in Feyre's veins slammed to a halt, the air whooshing from her lungs.

She couldn’t stop her breathless “What?” and Lucien laughed mirthlessly.

“They call him her whore. When he is in her court, he is warming her bed. He's doing her bidding.”

No sounds came from Feyre. There were no words for Lucien on her tongue. He kept his back turned to her, only turning his head slightly to look coldly back at her.

“I just thought you should know that.”

The words tore through her, and she remembered the pain and aching on Rhys’s face. The bone deep exhaustion was so clear and obvious to her, and the heartbreak she felt at knowing what he endured there was enough to bring a sharp burn of tears back to her eyes. Not for herself, for this new information, but for Rhys. For the pain and suffering he had been through–was still going through.

In my current home, I am unable to make any propositions, and it would kill me to make you a promise I couldn’t fulfill. You deserve more than that. More than me.

She remembered the way he’d said the words that night, the way he’d openly dropped that mask of cocky confidence for the first time. She remembered how shocked he’d seemed when she offered to wait, not just for marriage, but for him.

She was certain that if he was prostrating himself to that evil woman that there was a reason–something that he was sacrificing for. Had anyone ever sacrificed for him?

“He isn't some demon, Lucien. He could have taken me if he was. He'd never hurt me.” Lucien did not respond. “Consider that he might need saving just as much as everyone else.” Her words were soft, no bite left in them past what she hoped was the appeal of her honest belief.

Lucien didn't speak or turn, he simply walked back inside and closed the door behind him.

+++

Feyre sat curled in the deck chair for what felt like hours, watching the sun sink and the colors change in the sky. When the stars began to come to life, she saw Tamlin appear on the forest edge, walking back to the house in his human form. He looked ruffled, haggard, his clothes torn and his hair windswept and full of brambles. He didn't stop to sit with her, and she didn't ask him to, but as he passed she spoke.

“I'm sorry.” She didn’t look at him, keeping her eyes trained on the distant horizon, the words not being ones that had ever come easily to her. She hated admitting she was wrong. She’d usually fight tooth and nail to place blame elsewhere at every opportunity, but she knew she’d been the one in the wrong here. She’d lied, hidden the truth from her friends, and they both had absolutely every right to be furious with her. They would be well within reason to tell her to leave.

He stopped next to her, a deep sigh wringing out of his lungs.

“I don't know what to tell you, Feyre.” His voice was hoarse, and she winced wondering if it was from roaring his dissent towards the skies.

“Lucien told me plenty.” She couldn’t keep the hurt from her voice, even if she deserved it.

She’d been sitting here for hours trying not to dwell on what manner of horrors Rhys had experienced in the last fifty years, why he'd looked so emotional when she’d told him she would wait. He likely thought he’d never be free–likely knew the promise he made to her would never come to fruition. She’d die a human before he ever saw freedom again. She rubbed her eyes.

“He is...he's not good, Feyre. You are smart and strong and stubborn and many things, but mostly you are good.”

She still didn't meet his eyes, not sure where her warring emotions would take her if she did. She knew nothing she said would erase the history between the males; nothing she could tell him would make Tamlin feel any less for him.

“He's good, too. I know he is.”

He didn't speak, but he didn't move either. She wasn't sure if he was looking for the words or deciding if he should say them. She beat him to it.

“Do you love her, Tam?” She could see his shoulders release a bit, his whole body deflating as he sank to sit on the arm of the chair next to hers.

“No,” he said finally. “I could, one day, maybe. I care for her, even when she grates against my nerves. But no.” She did look at him then, and she was struck by how incredibly sad he looked. “Heart of stone, remember?” He thunked a broad hand over his chest, a small, sad smile tugging at the corner of his mouth before it disappeared. They’d joked about it before, but something in his eyes felt serious this time.

“Then what would be the point?” Feyre shifted in her chair to watch him while he answered. After everything, he deserved her full attention, at least.

He closed his eyes, leaning back as he pinched the bridge of his nose. “She only has to love me. That’s the bargain. Bargain’s are tricky things–all about the wording.”

She nodded. Holding the silence for a few moments as the crickets and cicadas’ swelling song filled the air around them.

“I’m not asking you to storm her court and save him yourself. I'm not even asking you to forgive him for your past. All I am asking is you both try to remember we've all had to make choices and sacrifices. I'm only asking you to remember things aren't always what they seem. For me.” She stroked that leather band on her wrist again, wondering if they’d ever have that level of trust, of friendship, between them again, and her heart twisted.

Tamlin sighed again, but nodded, looking back out over the woods.

Feyre rose, the creaking in her too-still joints audible in her ears, and left Tamlin sitting out on the porch alone.

+++

When she got back to her room, Calla was already there sitting on the bed.

“They’re sending me home.” Feyre was exhausted, the hope actively dying in her chest like a death knell. But deep down, she knew they couldn't depend on Calla like some sort of sacrificial lamb. She was a human, another person Feyre had come to care for. If there was no chance of her breaking the curse, keeping her here risked her life. She was brash at times, but Feyre had warmed to her. She wondered, not for the first time, if this was how her own older sisters might have seen her too.

“It’s for your safety, Calla.”

“I don’t want to go back.” Feyre came and sat next to her on the bed. Calla’s face was streaked with drying tears. Feyre was looking at their last hope for salvation–the only one who could break the curse and free everyone from Amarantha. Keep them from having to bring themselves under the mountain and making Feyre find another way to use her limited powers against the female who had captured every high lord. She tried not to react, but that panic was rising in her chest again. How would she ever manage such a thing?

She felt as though she were losing hope, plummeting to her imminent death with nothing left to stop it.

Maybe it wasn’t too late. She needed Calla to love him. She needed to keep that hope alive.

“Do you love him?”

Calla’s eyes looked tired and guilty. “I don't know.”

Feyre didn’t respond right away. Her brain and emotions were warring and she felt as though she were being torn in too. Was it selfish to want that chance? Was it testing fate to push it, even when her empathy begged her to let Calla go? It truly was too much pressure to place on Calla, too much to ask, especially when Tamlin didn’t even feel the same. How could they expect all this of her?

“What is it like?” The question shocked Feyre and left her unsure of how to respond.

What was it like? As cliche as it sounded, what she had with Rhys felt like more; it had since the beginning.

“Well, it’s hard to describe. When I think of him, I am excited for the future. It doesn’t feel so open and frightening. It seems thrilling–the promise of things to come with him.” She paused, remembering that list of all she knew and loved about him. “He consumes my thoughts, but in a way that brings light to my days. I ache to know every single thing about him; I feel hopeful about spending the rest of my life doing so. Every single day, he is my first thought in the morning and my last at night. The feelings that I have for him are so overwhelming and wonderful that sometimes they don’t even feel like my own–like I can’t even keep track because everything I feel for him, I feel so deeply. It all caught me off guard.” She chuckled a bit. “I know it sounds silly–” She stopped short, turning back to Calla and finding tears rolling down her face and an awestruck look in her eyes.

She shook her head sadly, a rueful smile on her lips. “Then, no. I do not love Tamlin.”

This had not been Feyre’s aim. She had gone too far and it had produced the opposite effect.

“Calla, it’s not the same for everyone…”

“I might, one day. I could.” The same answer that Tamlin had given, and it somehow made this a million times worse. Had they found her sooner, had they had more time, it could have become more on its own. They could have broken the curse and found the love they deserved. How could they be so close, and still have fallen short? “But if they send me away I’ll never know.”

Feyre knew that If Tamlin had already made up his mind, there was no talking him into letting her stay.

“I am sorry. Calla.” Sorry for her, sorry for them, sorry for everyone who was losing this last chance before it had even begun. Calla got off the bed, wiping her tears with the back of her wrist and heading to the door.

“Goodnight, Feyre.”

“Goodnight, Calla.”

That night, Feyre laid in bed alone, thinking about everything that had been said while she tested her magic halfheartedly. She took the ring off the chain around her neck and slipped it onto her ring finger. It was much too large, the ring meant for the hand of a male. She took it in her hands and willed her magic to shift it down, small enough to fit snugly on the finger meant for a betrothal an oath. It looked right there, the stone still reflecting the night sky, but smaller and more delicate now.

What would things look like when time ran out? When the curse wasn’t broken? Would Tamlin and Lucien be summoned under the mountain? Killed? What would become of Rhys, forced to warm that nightmare's bed to keep people safe?

They were sending their singular last hope away. Should she go, too?

She couldn’t; the thought didn’t even last a moment.

She wouldn’t abandon Rhys, or Lucien or Tamlin for that matter, not after she’d come here and learned so much. She could never go back to that life she knew before; it wouldn’t be worth it.

She would stay here and go beneath the mountain with them when called, no matter what they’d say. She’d shapeshift into more fae features, find Rhys, and at least she would be with him if she were to die. They would get their time together, even if it would be miserably and unfairly cut short.

He’d be furious with her for what she’d done–for the risk she’d taken and failed at.

She crawled into bed that night feeling more miserable than she could remember, more hopeless than ever as she cradled the hand with the ring to her heart and fell into a fitful sleep.

+++

The dawn rose red as blood over the horizon the following day, the colors bleeding out into the sky like a portent of things to come. Tamlin had been called to the border again early that morning and was still gone, allowing Calla another day at the manor before they sent her home for good. The mood was dour, Calla refusing to leave her room for almost the entire day, Lucien holed up in his study, and Feyre left to her own devices to wallow about her next steps.

She skipped breakfast, still not sure she wanted to see anything, and brought the rest of the court books back to the library. She spent the whole morning there reading more about Rhys and his family until her tired eyes blurred.

Things were tense with Lucien at lunch when she finally risked her presence, but Feyre pushed the last apple tart towards him wordlessly at the end. Her heart warmed when she saw a small smirk twitch on his lips, though he still hadn’t spoken to her, and he did not join her on the porch as the afternoon sun sunk down into the trees.

When evening fell and Tamlin returned, Feyre pretended to not see Calla waiting for him at the stairs, going up with him and taking the hallway to his rooms instead of hers. The hope may be dead, but Feyre supposed there was no reason they couldn’t at least enjoy the small feelings they’d let bloom for one another before they said goodbye.

When Feyre finally slept, she woke quietly with a presence at her back. It wasn’t a harsh awareness like when they’d slammed together the last time, but a peaceful, slow awakening, his hand drawing circles down her side, pulling goosebumps from her flesh in the comfort of a dim room. She could see a massive set of windows, but they weren’t on the open mountaintop palace where she usually saw him. She could see a river in the low light outside, winding slowly through what appeared to be a city. They were surrounded by mountains whose peaks danced amongst the stars, the view breathtaking even from below. The silk sheets were smooth beneath her naked body and the comfort of the room thrummed notably in around her while his mouth found her neck and pressed a kiss to it. She couldn’t explain it, but this felt like home.

She turned to face him, his exquisite, lovely eyes taking her in. He looked ruffled by sleep, hair tousled and eyes hooded–a small smile on his face as he looked at her. She supposed there was no point pretending anymore.

“Where are you, Feyre?” His voice was rough with sleep, the deep tumble of it making her shiver.

“Rhys,” she whispered, her hands coming up to touch his face. “I know what you are, who you are, High Lord.” He pulled back as though he’d been hit with an arrow, a look of fear in his eyes and the terrifying press of his anxiety so deep and profound that Feyre could feel it in her own chest.

Feyre simply smiled, pressing a hand to his warm, bare chest. She could feel his heart hammering like a hummingbird beneath the skin.

“You do not scare me, Rhys. You never have, and you never will.”

The vulnerability and fear in his eyes was so palpable he might as well have told her himself what it was. She could see it in his eyes, she could feel it in her heart.

“Tell me you're not in Spring.” The words were soft but pleading, a last grasp at hope that he’d already all but lost.

“I'm not going to lie to you.”

He deflated, pretty eyes slipping closed as he pressed his forehead to hers.

“Why did you come here, Feyre?” He pressed a kiss to her lips and she melted into it, the warmth of him encompassing her fully.

“I came for you. I will always come for you.”

Suddenly, his eyes shot open as he pulled back, only pure, untempered fear coursing through them now.

“Run. Feyre, wake up. You have to run.”

“What?” She was taken aback by the frantic tone of his pleading; it was so unlike him.

“RUN–”

Feyre shot awake at the sound of her door being slammed out, the light flooding the room as her nightmares came to life. She could hear yelling and screaming downstairs, large crashes of things breaking and Tamlin’s loud bellow through it all.

There in the darkness, horribly and grotesquely framed by the light of the hall, was the attor.

Her eyes adjusted to the light in time to see its horrific, cruel smile, the fangs even more terrifying when they were real.

“What a delicious surprise.”

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[likedovesinthewindd]

...peter parker with a popular gf who loves pda

yes yes yes

peter parker x fem!reader

warning: description of displays of affection

wc: ±680

a/n: idk how american school timetables work so apologies if that is inaccurate, i also switch between 2nd and 3rd person the whole time lol sorry.

The school hallways always found a way to be ungodly busy and full of children at any time during the day. You clung to the straps of your backpack as you tried to maneuver your way through the hoards of kids, searching for your boyfriend.

You hadn't been able to see him all weekend, your schedule jam-packed with activities ranging from studying to practicing, even babysitting. Peter himself was busy studying for an upcoming test, so that left no time for your weekly meet-ups at one or the other's house.

You knew Peter usually stood by his locker in the mornings, and you exhaled a sigh of relief when you saw the all too familiar head of brown hair sticking out from behind the locker door. "Peter!" you shouted and he peeked from behind the locker's door warily. He smiled when he saw you approaching and before he even had time to register, you had reached him, immediately wrapping your arms around his neck in a bone crushing embrace.

"I missed you," you spoke into his neck, and your warm breath tickled the area. "Missed you too," he said genuinely. He really did miss you; he was so used to you always being around, and the weekend without you had been boring and excruciatingly long.

You pulled away from the hug, your arms still wrapped around his neck as you moved closer to him once more to plant a kiss on his lips. It was quite chaste, but a few students still turned their heads to your direction to gauge the interaction.

Peter was a little shocked at your very public display of affection, but he had gotten used to it since the two of you started dating. Your love language was physical touch, and it also didn't help that you were absolutely smitten with your boyfriend. You loved being around him, holding him and kissing him and just having him with you.

You'd been scared at first that your actions were a bit too much for him, but he reassured you that had he didn't mind it. Sure, it was strange to all of a sudden have someone so affectionate around him—towards him, but he loved it when you doted on him, showing him your unabashed adoration and love.

You pulled away from the kiss, dopey smile plastered onto your features. "What do you have now?" you asked quietly. "What? Oh! I uhm— Biology. I have Biology now." he spoke, mind still a little jumbled from the kiss. "I have History," you huffed. "Walk with me?"

Peter nodded, and you smiled, retracting your arms from around his neck and placing one of your hands in his, interlacing your fingers. He walked you to class, steadily holding your hand as you walked through the hallways. When you arrived at your class, you gave him one last kiss (on the cheek this time) before making your way inside, leaving him standing outside your class with pink ears and a dopey smile.

BONUS: i wanted to add some random thoughts bc I'm too lazy to write everything out in a whole fic lol.

ꕤ the two of you are alwayss holding hands.

ꕤ you see that thing where a guy walks with their hand in their gf's pants pockets? well peter's gf does that to him when they're walking. (lmao just imagine)

ꕤ the two of you eating lunch/going out? you share food with each other like always. it's like here have some of my fries then you try a piece of my sandwich.

ꕤ you and peter take the subway alot, and you'll share wired earphones or he'll read quietly along with you when you bring a book along. also let's you sleep on his shoulder when the two are making your way home and you're tired.

ꕤ you're always fixing his clothes bc the boy's always messy. fixing buttons on his shirt and fixing his bedhead or even patching up the countless jeans he's ripped when skating.

ꕤ with popularity ofc comes a lot of parties, and best believe you're dragging peter to every one, showing him off as your pretty, smart boyfriend:') so that everyone knows you're taken, and also so that no girl try their luck.

[callsigns-haze]

Pretty like a crime

Chapter 7

Pairing: Agent Jake 'Hangman' Seresin x Singlemom! Agent Y/n 'Cobra' Y/l/n

Summary: Cobra is finally back on the agency and is finally back in the job. With Kai at home she has to jumble being a mother and a agent. She's sent to her first U.C mission but never thought that she would meet a blonde, green eyed Texan...

Warning: Mentions of gun use, ptsd, mentions of death, mentions of shooting, flirting, mentions of abuse, description of dead body, death, blood, undercover work, alcohol use, smut, kissing

Prologue/ Part 1/ Part 2/Part 3/ Part 4/ Part 5/ Part 6

----------SIX MONTHS LATER-----------

Mornings were the most enjoyable portion of the day in your home. It was calm and tranquil, which was unusual for the couple given the chaos of raising Kai.

You and Jake enjoyed the morning since your new schedules meant you didn't have to worry about work or Kai, whom you loved deeply. Those few hours you may spend together and enjoy a tranquil time in each other's arms

It was early in the morning, with sunlight streaming through the windows, when you felt Jake's massive arms weight on your waist and his nose nuzzling against the nape of your neck.

"Good morning, love," he whispered in his scratchy morning voice, drawing you against his bare chest.

“Good morning… ooh I see our big friend is also joining us this morning” your lips curled into the famous Seresin smirk that Jake thought you while feeling his hard cock against your panty covered ass.

“Can't stop it when I'm sleeping next to a goddess ” he slid his hand under your night gown tugging against the rim of your panties to get access to your slick folds.

“Jakey, what are you doing?” you giggled as he slowly lowered you panties.

“Giving my goddess the affection her needy ass needs. It’s been a while since our last trip downtown ” he says in his morning rasp as he leaves butterfly kisses down the side of your neck.

"It's only seven a.m., and he won't be up until nine, I can tell you that," he pulls you in closer, pressing his hardon into your ass.

"But.." you protested, but your body had already given in to him, allowing him to take control.

He silenced you before sliding his fingers inside your moist and massaging your clit in a circular manner. You moaned as he placed light kisses on the nape of your neck. "Does that feel good, mama?" he teases against your ear, his fingers moist with your sticky as he takes his time pleasing you.

"Mmmhmm," you murmured gently, your body lighting up at his touch. He slips two fingers into your heat and draws circles on your swelling bud with his thumb. Your hand returned to run your fingers through his hair, taking a grip of it as you pulled your hips back as he continued to pump his fingers in and out of you at a regular rhythm, which felt nice but wasn't enough for you.

"Please, Jake, fuck…." you said in a frantic whisper. He had won you over, but he was destroying you.

"What do you need baby?" You can hear the sneer in his mocking tone. "I need you, I want you inside me," you said, as Jake quickly pushed you onto your back and removed your pants.

"Don't worry, sweetheart, I'll take care of you," he says, raising your nightdress above your head.

He bends down to savour your lips, gasping as your tongue swirls with his. He kisses your breast and swirls your peaks around his tongue. Your hand reaches down and pushes his boxers to release his member.

He continues to suck on your tits as you wrap your fingers around his thick shaft, giving him a few strokes before lining him up with your entrance. He slips in smoothly, sighing quietly as his long, thick length fills your tightness.

"Fuck, darling" Jake murmured quietly into your ear, moving his hips into yours slowly and forcefully, making you tremble. His body was wonderfully moulded to yours. You tightened your legs around his hips, bringing him closer as he drove further into you.

"Fuck, Jakey, so close, oh!" you groaned, falling back as you achieved your peak. Jake was near as well, increasing up his tempo as your walls pulsated with the sensation of your high, making him chuckle at how you squirmed beneath him. You were both so caught up in each other's delight that you didn't notice your bedroom door was open.

"Mommy, Jakey?" Your son's tiny voice appears from thin air as you and Jake quickly pull up the covers for a bit of cleavage. Your little son is standing in your door frame, leaning a bit forward as Jake asks him what's up.

"I'm hungry…" Him and Jake have been getting along amazingly for the past few months but yet you still can't get over how shy your son manages to get at times. Jake knows how shy and antisocial Kai can truly get and says.

"Hey bud, give me a minute and I'll be down in the kitchen okay?" Kai to that, full of energy nods his head and runs off down the halls as you where about to get up but Jake quickly pushes you down and gets on top of you, kissing down your neck.

"I'll go take care off him, you rest, I bet I tired you out." He plants one more kiss on your lips and gets up grabbing some underwear and sweatpants beside the bed. "Jake you don't hav-" you've said that line already and many times before, and stops you in your tracks as he grabs a t-shirt and leaves the bedroom to take care of your son.

You lie down on the sofa mattress while staring up at the ceiling, wondering how you got so lucky. You've fallen for an agent that cares for you and your son and protects you no matter what. He cares for your son and how the young boy is doing. Overall he's just a gentleman.

You slowly rise out of bed, picking up your cleavage and pyjamas at the side. You slip on the top and bottom, swiftly walking over to the table where your phone starts to vibrate. You don't hesitate to pick up the phone even though it's an unknown number.

"Hello?"

"Hello Madame Chevalier."

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[slytherinshua]

hi it's me again! hope ur day's been good, wasn't going to send more asks for a while since the last one but since you were asking for more soft thoughts AND make it magical this time, i had to 😣 thought of being like a village person who is very adamant that fairies exist and while strolling thru the field one day you just find yushi/sunoo laying there and surrounded by flowers and even tho u don't k anything abt him u make it ur thorough mission to accuse him of being a fairy and he's SOO mad at this bcuz not only were u rlly cute about it but he also was a fairy and he's not about to reveal himself bcuz he thinks ur cute 😭😭

SKDJKS STOP GOODBYE THIS IDEA IS SOOOO FUCKING CUTE??? okok i'm gonna do yushi bcuz i love yushi but this is also reminding me of my jaehee fic im writing lmfao cause he is a fairy in that as well although its a stardew valley au not magical BUT YUSHI AS A FAIRY!! wc: 1k. genre/warnings: fairy au. reader is very excitable. not proofread and soft thoughts so it's very very messy be warned this is really just a jumble of thoughts.

fairies were always shrouded in secrecy, especially in your village which was right next to a forest thought to be home to many magical creatures. the village leaders banned anyone from going into the forest due to its dangerous nature, but you've always wondered about it. there were a few books on fairies, but all the information in them was unconfirmed and more speculation than fact. some even swore that fairies were completely made up and didn't exist in the real world, but you always liked to imagine that they did, and maybe they even lived among you.

so, ever since you were little, you started to imagine your own version of what fairies would be like. of course, they would be breathtakingly beautiful and gentle. they would have magical powers and glitter in the sunlight. their presence would be so harmonious and lovely that even butterflies would flock to their side. maybe they could grow flowers with the touch of a finger or could fly around with butterfly like wings? your imagination was truly endless, especially when you were little. but once you got to schooling age, you started to get made fun of for your obsession with the mythical creatures.

although you insisted that they were real, your classmates just laughed at the idea, telling you to not kid yourself with fictional fantasies. but no one was ever able to truly shut you up about the idea. you still daydreamed about fairies unabashedly, no matter what anyone else thought about them. to you, they were real.

after an annoying encounter with a guy in the village who seemed adamant on winning you over, you decided to take a stroll through the flower field to clear your head. cursing the guy under your breath wasn't helping as much as you would've liked. not only was he ugly, and full of himself, he was also downright rude. you definitely weren't going to let him sour the entire rest of your day.

pink, blue, and yellow flowers were blooming all over the field. butterflies and bees buzzed around happily, caring to the sweet-smelling blossoms. you saw that the butterflies seemed to keep flying to one particular spot in the field. it piqued your curiosity, so you made your way over to that part.

immediately, your fantasies about fairies came flooding back to your brain the second you saw the boy lying on the ground. his ginger hair lay over his forehead perfectly, and light freckles adorned his pink cheeks. he was simply beautiful. the second you saw him, your breath was completely taken away. you were sure that if fairies existed, he must be one of them.

"so you do really exist? you aren't just fantasy." a grin spread to your face as you mumbled under your breath. you had been trying to not disturb the sleeping boy, but his eyes flew open as the words left your mouth. maybe fairies had supernatural hearing?

the boy sat up hurriedly, "what? me?" he blinked in confusion, finger pointing back at himself in question. a butterfly landed on his hand and he gently swatted it away, face heating up in embarrassment.

he would've been upset at his nap getting interrupted, but one look at you and all annoyance dissipated. you were really pretty. as a fairy, he really should've been more worried about coming into contact with humans, but it was too late to think about that now. you had seen him, and it wasn't like a vanishing spell was going to last long enough for him to get back to the forest. plus, there was no way you would suspect that he was a fairy. most people didn't even believe they existed nowadays. he was surely safe-

"you're a fairy, aren't you!?"

oh.

his eyebrows furrowed, "no. fairies aren't even real, why would you think that?" gaslighting was never his strong suit, but it was worth a shot either way, right?

"can you do any magic? can you grow flowers?" you didn't seem to have even heard his attempt at refuting you, as you were quick to throw a flurry of questions at him. what scared him the most was how accurate they were. how did you know so much about fairies?

"n-no, i said i wasn't-" he stuttered, interrupted by you shoving a flower in his face.

"try fixing it." you said simply before pulling off some of the flower petals. yushi's heart clenched slightly at the sight. he so badly wanted to reach out and repair it. the poor flower didn't deserve to die. but that would mean outing himself. the risk wasn't worth it.

you sighed as the boy just stared at you blankly, "so you really aren't a fairy? then why do you look like one?" you sat down on the grass with him, arms crossed over your chest in annoyance.

"how do you know what fairies look like? have you ever seen one?"

"well... no." you huffed in exasperation. he was right. "but you look exactly how one would expect fairies to look like! even butterflies can't stay away from you."

it was frankly unfair at how adorable you sounded trying to justify it, especially since yushi knew you were entirely right in your assumption. he could already imagine the look of pure joy and astonishment that would bloom on your face if you heard that he really was a fairy as you suspected.

would it really be so bad to reveal himself?

"what's your name, by the way? i'm y/n."

yushi thought for a second, weighing his options. he could tell you his name and that he was a fairy. he could tell you his name and leave you questioning whether he was a fairy of not. or, he could try to find a way out of the conversation altogether. he rather hated the last option. deciding that the second option was both the safest, and left him plenty of options, he went with it.

"...i'm yushi."

↳ nct wish taglist (bolded could not be tagged): @kangtaehyunzzz,, @eternalgyu,, @lexeees,, @nyukyusnz,, @planetkiimchi,,

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[gemini-sensei]

Biggest Surprise - Hawk

Chubby!Fem!Reader

Part One | Other options: Miguel | Robby | Demetri

After a while of sitting around and almost everyone getting a chance to hold the baby, Moon said she'd treat everyone to some lunch - especially promising to bring Reader back something delicious that wasn't from the hospital cafeteria. Everyone followed her out the door, save for one person who volunteered to stay behind with Reader... Hawk.

Once they were alone, Hawk came to sit beside Reader's bed. She was holding her sleeping baby boy in her arms, watching him with soft, tired eyes. He sat quietly, watching over him too. He was so small, with a cute little nose that matched Reader's to a T. However, when he'd been awake just a little while ago, he had shining blue eyes that Hawk recognized every day in the mirror.

"He's pretty cute," he said after a while. He didn't know what else to say, unsure of how to approach the situation.

When he came into the room, he thought he was going to find his girlfriend in bad shape; he thought she had been in some kind of freak accident or something. Then he walked into the room and was greeted by a bundle of cooing blankets and a smile from Reader that lit up the whole place. His heart was a jumbled-up mess of emotions and his head was all over the place trying to figure it all out. It was so much change at once, he could hardly believe it.

Yet here they were, new parents with a tiny little baby to take care of.

"Yeah," Reader said, smiling up at him. As they looked at each other, she lost some of her luster. "I'm sorry I dragged you here like this. I just... didn't know how to tell you. I didn't know if you'd believe me."

"Reader, we've been together almost a year," he said, laying the groundwork for everything he was about to say. "I've spent so much time with you over this last year, and you never showed a sign. You never got sick, you never got a belly, nothing changed. How could we have known?"

She gave a light shrug. "He was determined to be a sneaky little guy, I guess."

They shared a soft laugh, which came to an end when their baby boy whimpered in her arms. She shushed him gently, promising that he was okay. They stayed quiet a moment as he settled again, then breathed a sigh of relief.

"I can put him in the bassinet if you want," Hawk told her.

She shook her head. "I think he likes sleeping in my arms. The bassinet is kind of cold anyway."

He nodded and licked his lips, still unsure of what to say. He watched them, so enchanted by them. "Well, um, you know, I'll be there for you two. You can even move into my place."

"What about Demetri?"

"Screw Demetri. He'll understand."

Reader held back a laugh, feeling a little bad for their nerdy friend. She smiled nonetheless and looked at Hawk. "You mean that?"

He nodded and came closer, getting on his knees beside the bed and looking up at Reader. "I do. I mean it. I want us to be together. I want us to be a family."

Tears brimmed Reader's eyes. It had been an emotional 24 hours for her, and it wasn't until recently that she started thinking about her boyfriend. She'd put her baby first, then thought of Hawk, but now she was thinking of them both. He was thinking of them all too and it made her heart swell with love and admiration.

"Oh, Eli," she said softly, a few tears slipping down her cheeks. He stood up and leaned over her, wiping them away and kissing her head. "I love you."

"I love you too."

Their baby boy cooed and drew their attention. He was looking up at them with tired blue eyes, his little fists pulled to his chest. His gaze was beautiful and it made his parents smile down at him.

Hawk leaned down and kissed his little head. "Hey there, bud. I'm your dad."

[thesewordsareallihavetogive]

broke down: A Safe Place to Land one-shot - Bradley "Rooster" Bradshaw x nurse!reader

Summary: 2.5k words. One-shot in the A Safe Place to Land universe. y/n's car breaks down and Bradley is determined to make sure she's okay. (time line stuff: ch. 1 takes place in september 2019, ch. 5 is set in december of 2019, and this one-shot occurs in april of 2022.)

Warnings: car issues, bradley being a Stress Protective Fiancé, uH angst i guess? lots & lots of fluff. also sexism

a/n: hi y'all! it's been a moment lol. this story has been floating around in my noggin since november-ish & i'm so glad i finally wrote it out. enjoy! <3

series master list | master list

Shit. y/n muttered under her breath as she pulled her car off to the side of the road. Two warning lights lit up on the dashboard and a disconcerting noise started echoing from underneath the hood before she brought the vehicle to a stop. Based on the thin smoke rising from the crevice between the body of the car and its hood, y/n had a feeling she wasn’t going to make it the final stretch of her drive.

It had already been such a long day and y/n was really, really looking forward to seeing her fiancé and downing a cold beer or two. Or three. With a heavy sigh, she stepped out of her usually trustworthy car and popped the hot-to-the-touch hood. Smoke clouded her vision and she coughed–this was definitely an issue she couldn’t resolve by herself.

After dialing roadside assistance, y/n called Bradley. The phone hadn’t even rung twice before he picked up, his warm hello being slightly muffled by the lively crowd in The Hard Deck.

“Hey Roos,” y/n sighed. She tried to hide the exhaustion in her tone, but Rooster picked up on it immediately.

“What’s wrong, baby?” Dammit. This man could read her like a damn book. The aviator furrowed his brow and sat up straight in the chair he’d been occupying. The rest of the squad was bordering on boisterous after the several drinks they’d downed and were more focused on an intense game of nine-ball. y/n rubbed her temple and thought about how to best tell him and avoid him freaking out. She loved him to the ends of the earth, but he was a worrier.

“I’m fine! It’s nothing, really…” she trailed off. Her frustration and emotions got the best of her, so it all spilled out at once. “Actually, my car broke down so I called for a tow truck and I’m gonna be late meeting up with you guys at the Hard Deck so I’ll probably just head home after this because I’m so tired and-” Rooster’s eyes widened at the jumble of words y/n rushed out.

“Where are you?” Bradley cut her off before she could work herself up anymore. y/n could hear movement in the background and she instantly felt guilty. The last thing she wanted to do was interrupt him while he was having a well-deserved night out with his friends.

“It doesn’t matter. I just wanted to let you know that I probably won’t make it to the bar tonight. This might take a while,” y/n huffed. Her nerves were shot and above all, she just wanted to go home. Sure, a night out with her fiancé and their friends would be nice, but a warm bath and a pint of Ben & Jerry’s would be much nicer.

“y/n. Where. are. you?” Bradley asked slowly, punctuating each word. His voice was low and left no room for argument. y/n had only heard him speak that way a handful of times since she’d known him–all of which were times he thought she might be in trouble.

So she told him her location. She had pulled off on the edge of some backroad she was taking in hopes of it being a shortcut. Instead, she was now thanking her lucky stars that she had barely enough cell reception to call the tow service and Bradley.

Rooster cursed–y/n was alone in the middle of nowhere and it would be dark soon. A dozen scenarios went through his mind at once and none of them were good.

In a few long strides, the aviator crossed the room towards the bar without so much as a goodbye to his friends. He fished enough cash out of his wallet to cover his tab and then some as he flagged down Penny. The worried expression and his rushed movements, while his phone was pinched between his shoulder and ear, had Penny moving cautiously to tend to him, foregoing some of the other customers before him. She’d hardly accepted the cash from his hand before he offered her a tight smile and jogged out of the bar.

“I’m coming to pick you up,” he said with finality. y/n’s brow furrowed and she started pacing alongside her car.

“What? No, Bradley. Stay out with your friends. Have a good time, you deserve to let loose. I’ll see you at home, okay?” If he weren’t so focused on getting to y/n, he might’ve noticed the warmth that spread through his chest anytime his fiancée mentioned their shared home.

Rooster was typically far more gentle with the Bronco than he was right then, but that was hardly a thought in his mind when he pulled his keys out and shoved them into the door lock. y/n inwardly groaned as she heard the tell-tale sign of his old car’s door slamming and the engine turning over.

“Nope. No. I’m not going to be able to relax or think about anything else until I know you’re okay. I’ll be there in 15 minutes, tops.” He peeled out of the parking lot, pulling onto the main road before he’d even finished his sentence.

y/n blew out a heavy breath and dragged her palm down her face before stopping short. She pulled her phone away from her ear and checked the GPS route she recently had open.

Your location to The Hard Deck Bar – 24 minutes via State Road…

“I am okay. And it’s over a 20 minute drive to where you are,” y/n sighed. She had no doubt that Bradley would be able to beat the estimated time of 24 minutes, but shaving almost 10 minutes off seemed a little outlandish, even for the fighter pilot.

Rather than reminding his fiancée that he routinely flew planes at over 1,000 mph, he simply grunted out “I said what I said” and pressed his foot harder against the gas pedal.

Bradley stayed on the phone with y/n while he drove. Based on the unmistakable sound of the Bronco’s engine revving and cars honking because Rooster had cut them off, it was easy to assume he was breaking a handful of traffic laws.

Otherwise, the call was relatively quiet. Bradley broke the silence every few minutes to ask if y/n was okay–she hummed yes, Roos each time. He asked her if there was anyone lingering around or coming up to her–No, there’s literally no one out here. Her fiancé couldn’t decide if that was a good or bad thing.

y/n huffed in frustration when she tried to unsuccessfully start her car for the umpteenth time. Just as she rested her head on the steering wheel with crestfallen resignation, she caught a set of all too familiar headlights in her rearview mirror. The nurse felt a bittersweet smile creep onto her face. She was happy to see Bradley, she always was, but she couldn’t help the sinking guilty feeling that he cut his night out short because of her. y/n slowly climbed out of the car and really felt the exhaustion hit her this time around. Now that Bradley was here, she didn’t have to keep looking over her shoulder and was able to let her guard down a bit. 

By the time she closed the door behind her, he’d already crossed the distance from the Bronco to her car. Bradley wore a sympathetic smile when eyes met y/n’s. Something about the loving look in his eyes had y/n holding back tears. The aviator wordlessly pulled y/n into his chest and she gladly went along with it, wrapping her arms loosely around his waist.

“I’m sorry, Brad. I didn’t mean to ruin your night,” y/n’s words were muffled by the fabric of his t-shirt. Bradley tutted and brought a hand up to massage her shoulders where he knew she got tense often.

“You don’t need to be sorry, baby. I’m glad you called me,” he pressed a kiss against y/n’s hair before resting his chin atop her head. They stood wrapped in each other's arms for a moment, silently swaying side to side. y/n was still nuzzled against Bradley’s chest when he patted her back before pulling away and moved toward the hood of her car.

Bradley “Rooster” Bradshaw knows his plane inside and out. This extended to cars as well. He’s been under the hood of his vintage Ford Bronco more times than he cares to count, so he’s familiar with working on cars, to say the least. Maybe if this whole flying thing didn’t work out, he could be a mechanic.

Rooster waved the remaining smoke away from his face when he popped the hood of the car. He’d hardly been glancing around the various parts before a particular problem caught his eye. He stood back and rested his hands on either hip. There wasn’t much that puzzled him, but it was certainly an interesting sight, he thought as he tilted his head to the side.

“This drive belt is damn near shredded. When was the last time you got your car serviced?” Rooster asked innocently. When y/n blushed and wouldn’t meet his eyes, his face dropped. The aviator rubbed his temple. He had a feeling he wasn’t going to like her answer.

He produced a rag out of seemingly thin air and pulled the engine’s dipstick and wiped it off before checking the oil. He held the dipstick up to catch the remainder of the setting sun’s light and frowned–the oil was definitely below where it should be.

y/n was scratching the back of her neck now, looking increasingly sheepish.

“y/n?” Bradley asked expectantly. He wasn’t being condescending, but y/n felt like she was in trouble.

“Umm… I took her to get serviced not long after Lover came out. I sat in the waiting area and listened to the album like 3 times in a row.” Rooster did some math before his eyes practically bugged out of his head.

“When Lover came ou- baby, that was over two years ago?!” Bradley said incredulously, mouth agape. Before dating y/n, Rooster didn’t know much of anything about Taylor Swift. Eventually, his then-girlfriend started purchasing her own vinyl records and Taylor Swift’s music became regular in the rotation. Whether Bradley liked it or not, he learned some Swiftie lore. And, being the history nerd that he was, he remembered almost all of it. The album release dates had eventually wormed their way into his mind as well.

“I know! I know, but I literally only ever drive to work because we take the Bronco everywhere else so it didn’t matter that much…” y/n raised her hands defensively. Her voice trailed off towards the end; even she knew it was a bad excuse. Rooster slid a hand down his face in exasperation and smoothed out his mustache above his tight-lipped frown.

“Honey, what if you broke down or worse while I was deployed? I-” Rooster sighed. He stopped himself before he went on a tangent that might upset y/n. Nothing was worth arguing over right then so he let the topic rest. Bradley made a mental note to schedule a servicing for her car the following day.

The tow truck y/n called for pulled up just in time to avoid what was heading toward a tense conversation. When the driver approached the pair, he hardly spared Rooster a second glance initially; he was too focused on dragging his eyes across y/n’s body in a way that made her skin crawl. Bradley puffed out his chest and took a step forward, redirecting the man’s attention. The aviator’s movement allowed the remainder of the sun’s dwindling light to sparkle against y/n’s sizable engagement ring. She doubted that was Rooster’s intention, but she smirked nonetheless.

The tow truck driver posed his questions to Bradley. The much taller and tanned man was about to respond when y/n cleared her throat and stepped forward. It was her car, after all.

The driver was surprised. The hint of a grimy grin spread across his face.

“Alright, little lady,” he snickered. Strike one.

y/n took the man’s questions in stride. She knew the answers to most of them; she wasn’t dumb. Just because she procrastinated on her car’s maintenance didn’t mean she was clueless about her vehicle. Rooster was confident that she could handle herself in the conversation, so he hung back with his hand resting on her lower back protectively.

Some of the more unnecessarily specific questions were aimed to trip y/n up–Rooster knew it, and y/n pieced it together pretty quickly. Strike two. Good for y/n, and disappointingly for the sexist tow truck operator, y/n was very good at bullshitting her way to the right answer every time and had an unrivaled poker face.

Rooster smirked, impressed. His little spitfire was doing what she did best–putting men in their place.

The driver eventually huffed in annoyance. He clearly lost their verbal sparring match, so he set out to do his actual job and leave with his tail tucked between his legs. He tuned out the couple as he worked on hooking up the car and lifting it onto the truck bed.

y/n linked her arms behind her fiancé’s neck and grinned up at him. Rooster matched her smile. She was trouble, a force to be reckoned with–and he loved her for it.

“Thank you for saving me,” y/n murmured while her lips ghosted over Bradley’s. She pressed a sweet kiss to his lips, but before he could deepen it, she pulled away and examined him at arm’s length.

"My knight in shining… tacky tourist shirt,” y/n grinned deviously, amused by her own joke. Rooster rolled his eyes, pressing his tongue to his cheek before he retaliated by tickling her side–the exact same spot he’s been targeting since their very first beach date. y/n laughed before pulling him back toward her by his flowered collar for the deep kiss Bradley longed for.

At some point, the tow truck driver had finished up and y/n’s car was secured on the bed. He cleared his throat and shuffled uncomfortably as the couple shamelessly pulled away from their PDA stunt. y/n signed the necessary paperwork before thanking the man–she might be petty and a smart-ass, but she wasn’t an asshole.

Bradley and y/n walked hand-in-hand back towards the Bronco, where he opened the passenger door for her and offered his hand to support her as she stepped up into the lifted vehicle. Once Bradley was sitting in the driver’s seat, he wordlessly handed y/n his phone so she could play music. Somehow, the nurse had talked him into setting up bluetooth of all things in his vintage Bronco. He was well aware that she had him whipped, but he wouldn’t have it any other way.

With one hand on the steering wheel and one hand resting on y/n’s thigh, Bradley pulled back onto the road and drove toward their shared house, the Hard Deck long forgotten. The windows were rolled down and soft tunes filled the night air.

“Hey Roos?” y/n spoke, intertwining her fingers with his.

“Yeah, baby?” Rooster hummed, briefly taking his eyes off the road to look at his fiancée.

“What’s a drive belt?”

a/n: fun fact: i learned how to check a car’s oil level when my friends and i were in bum fuck nowhere on a camping trip. pretty sure my dad was v stressed out when i called him and asked me to walk me through it but it definitely fed my ego.