#and now i'm waiting for my laundry to be done so i can go to sleep earlier than i have been

[ereborne]

What is a Monday? A miserable little pile of obligations.

semester turnover restructure

generate/send out error reporting

figure out how to separate out unique counts

create polite reply to Massive Dick Move email

finish the bad book >:(

bò kho (not an obligation. dinner)

laundry

lizard bath

[t4tstarvingdog]

HELLLOOOO!!!!! how are u doing :3

HELLO HELLO. FOR THE LOVE OF GOD. today was sooo insane, i slept in until 1pm something (kept waking up and being like hmmmm but what about a little nap for a silly guy? and falling back asleep) and i dreamt about destiel AND buddie??????? and also about going to the movies with my siblings <3 and then i woke up and was soooo out of it, and then i went to the laundromat with my sibling and got boba tea. went back home, and then went to youth group and napped in the car on the way there <3

[cntloup]

Gojo Satoru x pregnant!reader

protective!Satoru, fluff, a lil angst, mention of feeling guilty, implied heavy symptoms experienced by the reader

"it's ok, baby. i've got it." Satoru says as he approaches your slouched form over the sink, washing the dishes as you try to get something done and make yourself useful.

you've been feeling guilty during the past month or so, feeling like you were a burden to him, thinking that you would never live up to his expectations. now he has to take care of you. and as time goes by, it will get even worse as your pregnancy progresses. but he's a busy man with heavy responsibilities. you'd be only holding him back. you torture yourself with these thoughts every day.

"oh, thanks. i'll go clean up the living room and do the laundry then." you respond with a forced smile, trying to mask the guilt that's been gnawing at you for a while as you try to keep yourself from falling over out of dizziness.

"what? no, wait! i'll do it after i wash the dishes. you go get some rest. you've done enough." he retorts while gently grabbing your arm, voice slightly raised to stop you immediately.

he is in utter disbelief at your behavior. you should be resting right now, tucked in beneath the soft sheets peacefully. you shouldn't worry your pretty little head about anything, he thinks.

"i haven't done anything all day." you utter in a faintly frustrated tone, mostly at yourself.

"and that's exactly how it should be." he replies with a nod, "now go to bed before i drag you there myself." he adds, maintaining a playful tone, a soft smile adorning his features as he drinks in your beauty. you're already glowing. but considering how observant he is, he senses your discomfort immediately like he can actually feel the gloom and sorrow you're feeling right now like a mother hen.

"what is it, baby? tell me." he murmurs as he walks up to you and pulls you into him by your hips, shining blue eyes staring at you as he awaits a response.

his hand rests on your side as the other cups your jaw, his thumb swiping over your cheek that could be dampened any moment now as you feel tears threatening to spill.

"i'm so sorry." you whisper breathily, voice slightly quivering with the lump in your throat as you look up into his glowing eyes.

"for what?" he asks, confusion evident on his features.

"for being weak. i'm so sorry to disappoint you." you finally spill out the words that have been weighing heavily on your chest as the tears cascade down your glossy eyes.

"disappoint me? i don't understand... why are you crying, love?" he mutters with a shake of his head, his confusion growing even more by your words as his fingers swipe over your cheeks to wipe away the stray tears.

"you're literally the strongest and you're stuck with me. i'm barely even showing yet and i'm feeling extreme fatigue. i've been sleeping all day for the past month cause i can't do anything. and because of the symptoms, i'll probably have to quit my job." you ramble about the thoughts that have been pulling you down all this time.

"wait, wait, wait! how long have you been feeling like this?" he questions with widened eyes baring into your soul.

"eversince we found out i was pregnant. i can't stop feeling guilty about disappointing you." you reply quietly, almost embarrassed to admit it. of course you know you're being irrational. it's all natural to be tired during this time and need help, but you just can't help it.

"you've been feeling like this all this time and you didn't tell me anything?" he blurts out almost too aggressively to his liking, "sorry. didn't mean it to come out that way." he quickly apologizes after witnessing the slight flinch on your part.

how could he not see it? you've been trying to do the chores like regular, pushing yourself to your limit both in the house and on your job until he swoops in and takes the weight off your shoulders. now he starts to blame himself for not finding out sooner and letting you wallow in your own sadness and guilt all alone.

"you're not weak, baby. you're doing the one thing that i can't possibly ever do. the one thing that the strongest can't do. and what does that make you? huh? you're literally the strongest of all, babe. i can't even fathom what you're going through and you're doing amazing-", "i'm barely functioning." you cut him off.

"i'm not done yet, babe." he says playfully before continuing, "you're doing amazing, honey. you sleep not because you can't do anything else but because you need it. you're carrying our child for fuck's sake. a literal human's life is growing inside you and of course it takes its toll on you. and i'm right here beside you every step of the way." he finishes his loving speech with a tender kiss on your forehead as his strong arms wrap around your now slightly shaking form as you sob, utterly moved by his words and also the hormones.

"thank you, Satoru. i really appreciate it. you always know what to say when i'm feeling down." your words are cut off by loud sobs but he patiently waits for you to finish as he rubs your back soothingly while nuzzling his face in your neck.

"any time, baby. i love you." he whispers in your ear, "i love you too, toru." you say back, continuing to sob in his arms for a while before you eventually calm down and he guides you to bed, encouraging you to take some much-needed rest.

"and don't worry about your job. you can take some time off or quit altogether. i have more than enough to pay for our family and the next generations to come-", "ok, stop bragging!" you chuckle, "i'm just saying, baby. i've been dying to spoil you. now's my chance. let me take care of you. you don't have to go through this alone. in fact, i won't even let you." he chuckles lightly and crashes his lips onto yours, pulling away with a loud smack as you both lay in bed, limbs tangled together, "you already spoil me." you mention with a slight pout, "and i'm gonna do it even more. you deserve it, baby. don't worry about anything. i've got it." he says while softly caressing your cheek, admiring your glowing beauty illuminated by the faint bedside light.

you slowly start to feel the sleep creeping in and drift away into a slumber as you mumble a quiet 'thank you', curling into Satoru's side as he holds you so lovingly while you think to yourself how you've been blessed with the best, most loving and supportive partner anyone could ever ask for.

[bucky-bucky-bucky-bucky]

Come Find Me | Bucky Barnes x Reader

I am back back back again! I have missed writing so much, I just don't have nearly the amount of time that I used to. But I'm in my last semester of school! So hopefully I'll be back on a consistent fanfic grind once I'm done :) PS: If you know what the title is referencing, you get a big hug from me.

Word Count: 13,439

Warnings: blood, talk of violence, reader injury

Bucky checked his texts every few minutes. Initially, he lied to himself about the reason behind it. He told himself he must’ve opened his conversation with you accidentally, or that he mistook an email notification for a text from you. Simple, innocent mistakes. 

Either way, he always ended up staring at your side of the conversation, hoping for a gray ellipsis to appear. 

But after a while, he could no longer deny the truth- and why would he want to? You were coming home. 

You hadn’t been gone long, and your mission was projected to be a cake walk. But he couldn’t help it; he missed you. He missed you when you went on missions, when you visited your parents out of state, when you slept in your room down the hall. Missing you was part of him now, woven into the fabric of his being. It matched the material of his soul perfectly, like he was always meant to feel this way.

He fired off a quick “let me know when you land” message and waited, hoping you’d write back soon. 

Usually, you texted him when you were headed back to the compound. It gave him a countdown to your return and something to look forward to. It also signaled to him that you were, in fact, coming home alive. Even if a bit banged up, you were well enough to shoot him a message. And that always eased his worries.

Today, however, was different. No text, no call.

It struck him as bizarre and sounded Bucky’s internal alarms. But he silenced them as best he could. He wasn’t going to let himself get worked up, not when you had a perfectly good reason for not messaging him.  

This was your first time leading a mission with a new recruit under your wing. Bucky knew you devoted your full attention to your trainee, giving him absolutely everything you had. You took this position- as well as your pupil’s safety and success- very seriously. He knew you were probably busy helping your recruit learn a swath of new things, and who was he to interrupt?

Bucky opened the log and saw your jet had been marked as ‘incoming’ only minutes ago. A sigh of relief left his chest and eased his muscles. Sure, he would’ve rather heard that information from you, but it didn’t matter. Your jet would be here soon; he had no reason to worry. 

The moment he saw that your jet was homeward bound, he lost the ability to think about anything else. He counted the minutes, the seconds. You had to be close, right? The log wouldn’t have said ‘Incoming’ if you were still hours away. 

To pass the time, he folded laundry, answered emails, reread a few chapters of The Hobbit- but he couldn’t focus. He thought of you, only you. And no matter how hard he tried to distract himself, he couldn’t hang around his room any longer. He couldn’t stand it. He needed to be there when the jet landed. He needed to meet you on the steps of the aircraft and wrap you in a bear hug. 

And there was no real harm in waiting near the hangar, was there? ‘If anything,’ he told himself, ‘It’s actually more convenient for her if I meet her there. That way, I can carry her bag- she’s probably tired.’ 

Anything to rationalize his desperate need to be near you.

He knew in his heart of hearts that you didn’t need him to carry your bag or help you off the jet. But this lie was all the convincing he needed. Without hesitation, he ditched his room and set off down the hall, your impending homecoming pulling him forward. 

It was in that moment he noticed just how far the elevator was from his room. The walk seemed to stretch on and on, the hallway growing longer with each step. And how had he never noticed how slowly the elevator moved? It slid downward at a glacial pace, toying with his patience. For such an expensive, state of the art building, the elevator moved like an ancient piece of turn of the century machinery. Bucky cursed Tony’s engineering. 

Everything seemed to add time, multiplying his moments without you. The universe liked toying with him, teasing him. And this was just another cruel joke. 

The moment the doors opened, Bucky sprang free out into the hallway. He knocked into Clint and his group of trainees and called an apology over his shoulder without stopping. He couldn’t stop, couldn’t waste time- not when you could arrive at any moment. 

His field of view narrowed into tunnel vision, only allowing for visualization of the path toward the hangar. He didn’t greet his fellow team members or allow for distraction. You were his one-track mind. That is, until something stopped him. 

“Shit, sorry, man,” your trainee, Jake, laughed as he bumped into Bucky. He took a step to the side and attempted to continue down the hall, but Bucky blocked his path. 

“Jake?” Bucky eyed a bloody gash on Jake’s eyebrow, “when did you guys get back?”

Jake gave a casual shrug and checked his phone, “I don’t know, five minutes ago?”

“Oh, okay…” Bucky reached for his phone, but found his screen void of notifications. If you landed five minutes ago with your trainee safe and sound, why didn’t you send him a message? It was out of character for you. 

“Well, where’s your partner in crime? Or crime fighting, I guess,” Bucky tried to joke, but his tone was strained. He eyed each person who came around the corner, hoping to find your face. “Did you see which way she went?”

“Nah, she’s not here,” Jake was scrolling through Instagram, only half paying attention.

Bucky’s disappointed sigh left his chest deflated, empty. “Oh, did she say where she was going? Or when she’d be back?”

Jake pulled his focus from his phone and stared at Bucky with confusion on his face. His brows pulled together, his mouth hung slightly ajar. But finally, he made sense of Bucky’s words. “OHHH, okay, my bad- I think there was a miscommunication just now.”

Bucky sighed again- this time, with relief. 

“Yeah, no, she’s not here,” Jake continued, “because she didn’t make it back.”

Bucky’s ears started ringing. 

The sharp, piercing sound blocked out voices. Footsteps on the tile. Maybe Jake was trying to speak to him, but Bucky heard only the shrill sound of shock. Seconds later, his nerves fell numb. The utter absence of sensation disconnected him from his body. He was lost in a liminal atmosphere with no stability, no purchase. His entire being was shutting down, one sense at a time.

Bucky told himself to focus, to compute what he’d heard. He did his best to make sense of Jake’s words, but to no avail. His mind simply couldn’t understand the phrase “she didn’t make it back”. The words had shed their meaning entirely and sounded foreign to Bucky as they rattled around his skull. Goosebumps rose over the surface of his skin, and a cold sweat created a sheen across his face. He feared he might get sick. 

“I- I’m sorry,” he forced himself back into his body, back to the present. “I don’t think I understand.” 

“Things got pretty hairy- this was not the easy mission they said it would be,” Jake scoffed and rolled his eyes. “It’s not fair, I definitely got a way harder assignment for my first mission than all the other new agents, and I think it’s-” 

Bucky’s glare could’ve sliced Jake in half, “get to the point.”  

“Right, um,” Jake continued, “I told her over comms that I was leaving. I gave her plenty of time to meet me at the jet, but she didn’t answer. And she never came outside.” He shrugged, “I had to leave for my own safety.”

“So, you just-” Bucky felt himself losing his grip. “You left her there? Alone?” He didn’t realize he was shouting, didn’t realize he’d drawn attention to himself- until Agent Hill showed up.

She placed a light hand on Bucky’s tense shoulder, but instantly withdrew. He was shaking, practically vibrating under her palm. “Is there a problem here, guys? I don’t want-”

“He left her behind,” was all Bucky could manage.

Maria stared at Jake in disbelief, “you did what?”

A strange mixture of rage and heartbreak seethed behind Bucky’s eyes, “You don’t just abandon your partner-”

Jake’s attitude disgusted Bucky. He was detached, irritated. He rolled his eyes like an insolent child. “Relax, man. Jesus Christ, this isn’t the army. I didn’t promise to ‘leave no man behind’ or whatever-”

Bucky had heard enough. He lifted jake by the collar of his shirt, twisting the material in his metal fist. Jake’s head sent a sickening thud resounding through the space as Bucky forced him against the nearest wall.

“What the fuck?” Jake squirmed in Bucky’s grasp, “There are casualties in the field all the time, why am I being punished for-”

Bucky released Jake at once, sending him crashing to the floor. 

His voice was quiet, hollow. “Casualties?” He swallowed hard, “Is she-”

Jake shrugged at he rubbed at the bruise forming on his neck. “I don’t know, I assume so. I didn’t stick around to find out.” 

And just like that, Bucky was gone. 

He took off down the hall, forcing himself forward as a soul-crushing panic swallowed him whole. No matter how many times he blinked, no matter how fervently he shook his head, he couldn’t rid his mind of the picture Jake painted for him. Each time he shut his eyes he saw you- alone. Your bloodied, broken body laying collapsed against a wall of a Hydra base. Your skin slick with blood. Your skin cold. Void of life. 

He moved quickly, but not quick enough. He simply couldn’t outrun the familiar feeling closing in on him. His heavy, well-worn cloak of grief wound its way across his shoulders and twisted itself around his neck. He knew the suffocating sensation all too well. It weighed him down but couldn’t dampen his pace, nothing could; not when your life hung in the balance. 

He was too well acquainted with loss by now, too familiar with mourning. There’d been a time when he wondered if he’d ever grieve again. He’d lost his family, his friends, himself- what else was there? What more could he possibly lose? But the moment he met you, he knew he’d one day mourn again. He just didn’t realize that time would come so soon. 

A startling cold prickled at his skin, his lungs refused to inflate. How much time did you have left? How long would it take him to get to you? Were you even-

Hill’s voice yanked him out of his spiral, “Barnes, hey-” She made a grab at his shoulder, but her feeble attempt was no match for Bucky’s pace. “Where are you going?”

“To get her back.” Bucky’s tone was firm, resolute. He was going to bring you home or die trying.

“I don’t think that’s a good idea,” Hill nearly tripped over her own feet as she tried to keep up with Bucky’s long strides. “You heard what Jake said, it’s a dangerous location- more dangerous than we thought. I think it might be best to wait it out for a few days, let things calm down and then-”

Bucky turned suddenly, stopping Maria in her tracks. “I’m not just going to leave her there.”

Maria shrunk away from the fierceness in his eyes, “I know you’re upset, but she might not be-”

“I don’t care.” His gruff tone dissolved, making way for the fear he’d so desperately tried to hide. “Whether she’s alive or-” he couldn’t bring himself to voice the alternative. 

Bucky knew what it was like to be assumed dead. He knew what it was like to be left in the field. 

“She deserves to come home,” he said.

Maria couldn’t argue with him. 

“Round up as many members of the med team as you can and have them meet me in the hangar. We’re leaving in ten minutes- sooner if we can.” Bucky turned and resumed his previous path, “I’ll be in the armory.”

Bucky grabbed as much weaponry as his duffel would carry without splitting at the seams and made his way to the hangar. He hoped to find ten, maybe fifteen members of the medical team waiting for him on the jet. He wasn’t sure of your condition, didn’t know how many breaths you had left. He wanted to give you the best possible chance at surviving the onslaught you endured. 

But when he turned the corner into the hangar, he found only three scrub-clad bodies. 

“Is this it?” Bucky boarded the jet and dropped his bag to the floor. He eyed the scant amount of medical support, their uncertain expressions. His hopes of bringing you home alive dwindled.

A nurse who’d stitched Bucky up more times than he could count gave him a nervous smile. “The med bay is swamped, the team could barely afford to let us come with you.” 

Bucky didn’t want to hear it. He didn’t want excuses or rationalizations. All he wanted was to bring you home with your heart still beating. And three medical professionals, he decided, was better than none. 

The flight to your location only gave Bucky more time to worry. He obsessively checked his weaponry, hovered over the med team’s supplies. But no amount of double and triple checking could save him from the spiral. He traveled down the path of every possible “what if?”, leading him only to heartache. No matter where he searched, he couldn’t find a positive outcome. And though he didn’t want to acknowledge the odds, he knew yours were slim- impossible, even. 

And as the jet grew closer to your location, Bucky steeled himself for what he knew he’d find: you, his best friend, his reason for living, his everything- dead. Cold. Lifeless. None of the horrors he faced in the past could compare; no pain could ever be greater. Bucky knew he’d hurt for the rest of his life.

The clouds parted as the jet began its descent. Slowly, a large stone building appeared out of the fog like a monster in the horror movies you loved so much. It stood in an otherwise empty clearing, its shadow looming over the dying grass. Smoke billowed from holes in the roof, the walls. Whatever happened here was catastrophic. Disastrous. 

Bucky’s heart sat lodged in his throat as he imagined you trapped in there. Goosebumps rose over the surface of his skin as he stared at the looming structure. He had to get you out, even if he died trying.

Just before the jet touched down, an idea popped into Bucky’s head. It scaled the high walls he’d tried to erect to protect himself from thoughts of your demise and grabbed him by the throat. It was smart- brilliant, actually. He was shocked he could even think straight given the circumstances.

“FRIDAY,” Bucky called out, “is comm 1209 working?” He shoved his own comm in his ear and waited for a response. 

“Comm 1209 is on and in range,” Friday said. “Would you like me to connect you?”

He couldn’t say yes fast enough.

A few staticky clicks and pops vibrated against Bucky’s eardrum as his comm connected to yours. But he was too scared to speak. What if you didn’t answer? What if he heard you take your dying breaths? Just the thought was enough to make him sick.

He owed it to you, though, to at least try. He’d always said he’d do anything for you, that he’d risk it all for you- and he meant it every time. If reaching out to you over comms exposed him to something horrible, something traumatic and unforgettable, at least he tried. At least he attempted to keep his promise. And after everything he’d been through, what was one more life-shattering, soul-crushing nightmare?

“H- um…” Bucky swallowed the large lump obstructing his throat. “Hello?” He waited a moment, holding his breath the entire time, and tried again. “Hello?”

He waited. 

No response.

“Doll? It’s me. It’s Bucky…” 

The dead silence on the other end of the line dragged on. It seemed like his words disappeared into the air, unacknowledged. Unheard. Maybe the sound of his voice was reverberating inside your ear as you lay dying. Or maybe he was talking to your corpse.

 The thought made him nauseous.

“Please, sweetheart. If you’re there- if you’re able- just say one word. Say anything,” he pled. A long bout of silence followed.

He clenched and released his metal fist again and again, desperate to rid himself of the panic settling into his bones. He was stupid to think you survived, stupid to let himself be optimistic. He made it here as quickly as he could, but he couldn’t save you. He was too late. 

He wanted to take one of his many weapons and turn it on himself. 

But a small sound stopped him.

“Buck…”

He almost fell to his knees. At the sound of your voice, an overwhelming warmth banished the cold that infiltrated his bones. Against all odds, you were alive.

A deep sigh of relief seeped from Bucky’s lungs, “Sweetheart…” 

A hurricane of emotion rattled against the storm doors inside Bucky’s mind. He couldn’t stop thinking about the ‘almosts’. How he almost lost you, how you almost died alone in a Hydra base. But he couldn’t allow it to swallow him- not yet. There was no time for a breakdown. He needed to move, he needed to get to you. 

He shrugged off the grief that rested heavy on his shoulders and swallowed the impending sob that vibrated inside his throat. “I’m here- I’m gonna come get you. Just tell me where-”

A staunch refusal came from your end of the comm, “No- no…” You took a sharp, rattling breath, “no way.”

Bucky didn’t like the way you had to fight to get your words out. You were clearly struggling, doing everything in your power to stay on this side of consciousness. He wondered how much time you had left.

But still, there was a familiar strength to your voice. Maybe it was the adrenaline, maybe it was the renewed hope of rescue; something was keeping you alive. 

“It’s okay, sweetheart, just tell me where you are. The jet just landed. I’m gonna get you out and-”

“I said- I said no,” you breathed. “You can’t c-come in here, it’s too dangerous… we were a-ambushed.”

Even in your condition, even when Bucky was your only hope of rescue, his safety was your first thought. You’d rather die alone than put Bucky’s life at risk; the thought made his cheeks pink and filled his chest with a fuzzy warmth. But he didn’t have time to enjoy the feeling.

“If you don’t tell me where you are, I’ll just sweep the whole building,” Bucky said, using your worry against you. “That means more opportunities for me to run into Hydra operatives. More time inside the base- it’ll be way more dangerous.” He could practically see you rolling your eyes, “so it’s probably better if you just give me a direct route, don’t you think?”

Bucky smiled to himself as he envisioned you on the other end. He was certain you were arguing with yourself, cursing his rationale. 

He waited for you to come at him with a sharp retort or a sarcastic quip but heard nothing. The silence on your end of the line dragged on. And on. It lasted far too long for Bucky’s comfort. Surely, you couldn’t still be thinking about his proposition? He’d given you more than enough time to make up your mind, more than enough time to come up with a response. It was time you didn’t have. 

What if you’d fallen unconscious? What if, in those quiet moments, your soul vacated this earth?

Bucky couldn’t take it anymore. He disembarked the jet, resolving to search every inch of the base. But just as he reached the dark, unsettling building, you spoke.

“F-fifteenth floor. Northeast… northeast quadrant,” you sighed, defeated. “There’s a- a room at the end of this hall, I think it’s maybe an office?” Again, you took a long pause. The energy required to think, to speak, was energy you didn’t have. “Just f-follow the trail of blood.”

Bucky’s breath caught in his throat. He shuddered at the thought of your blood leaving a path down the stark white, sterile hallways of the base. But he didn’t have time to focus on anything other than getting you out; this was a rescue. He owed it to you to keep his head level. To focus on getting you out as quickly as he could. 

“The power is… it’s out”, you said. “You’re gonna h-have to take-” 

Bucky wanted to save you from wasting any extra energy, “The stairs. Got it.” 

And while he normally didn’t mind getting a few extra steps in, he knew the time required to climb fifteen flights of stairs would push the limits of your survival. 

But he pushed the ever-encroaching sense of doom to the side and put on a brave face for you. For himself. “Okay, I’m coming to get you,” he promised. “Stay awake, and don’t move.”

“As if I h-have a choice,” you laughed a breathy, hollow laugh. A long groan followed. 

Your pain radiated through Bucky’s chest. He didn’t want to climb stairs or scour hallways- he just wanted to be there. To instantly materialize at your side. To bring you instantaneous comfort. He lamented the super soldier serum’s lack of teleportation abilities. 

“You know what I mean, doll. Just stay awake, okay?” Bucky drew his gun and stepped inside the building. “Don’t fall asleep. Do anything you have to do- just stay awake. Can you keep talking until I get there?”

“W-what am I…” You let out a raspy exhale, “supposed to talk about?”

Bucky cleared a long hallway and found the stairwell, “Anything, just keep talking.”

Another extended silence filled the air; it nearly drove Bucky crazy. Your silences held limitless possibilities, horrifying ‘what ifs’.

“It w-wasn’t supposed to be… to be like this,” you finally said. “It wasn’t supposed to be this dangerous. This was Jake’s first mission- it wasn’t f-fair to him.” Heartache coated your every word. Even after your partner abandoned you, even after Jake forced you to suffer and bleed all alone- you still sympathized with him. Still felt sorry for him. 

Bucky felt no such thing.

“I know, doll. Keep talking, okay?”

You sighed. “We s-split up for recon… that’s when they- when they came at me.” Your next few breaths were so shallow, your lungs barely inflated; the lack of oxygen left you dizzy. A thin veil of glittering spots sparkled and danced on the edges of your periphery. “It all h-happened so fast… there were so many of them. I just- I remember pain. And I hoped Jake was okay, w-wherever he was.”

Your heart was too good for this job. For people like Jake. Bucky admired your kindness, your empathy, your selfless nature. Even in the face of pain, of death- you thought about others. You often told Bucky how unfair life had been to him, lamenting his treatment at the hands of fate. Bucky found himself doing the same for you and your kind heart.

“I called out for h-him, I needed backup… I kept asking him to come help me-” A sharp cough rattled out of your throat. 

Bucky cringed at the sound. It was the only sound in the building. He hadn’t heard anyone else. Hadn’t seen one Hydra operative- at least, not a live one. He came across their bodies every now and again but didn’t see a single living soul. He was sure they deserted after the explosion. Just like Jake. 

The destruction, however, was everywhere. Bullet casings littered the floor. Blood stained the tile floors. Fluorescent lights flickered overhead. He had to get you out of here.

“But he n-never answered. And then he told me he was leaving. He said he was- he was outside already. He gave me n-ninety seconds to meet him at the jet…” Your words were tinged with devastation, with hopelessness, with betrayal. “I tried- I did my best to make it down the stairs. But I was- I was dizzy… I was b-bleeding.” The memory stung like your fresh wounds. “I kept slipping on- on my own blood. I just c-couldn’t move fast enough. It hurt too much.”

Wrath burned inside Bucky like a raging forest fire. But his utter heartbreak doused it completely, extinguishing the rageful flames. He found himself unable to think, to breathe. It took everything in him to keep moving forward. Who could ever leave you behind like that? Who could ignore your suffering and sentence you to death without a second thought? The image of you stumbling, struggling to run for your life gutted him.

“And then- and then I heard the jet t-take off,” you sighed. “And I listened as it got farther and farther away… until it was g-gone. And I was- I was alone.”

He thought of you sitting alone in cold silence as the noise from the jet quieted. As your hope dwindled. The entire base must’ve felt like a tomb, like a massive, lonely grave meant just for you. 

Bucky almost fell to his knees. Sobs throttled the inside of his chest, begging for release. Tears burned inside his lash line. Jake didn’t just leave you behind, he marooned you without care. And in his departure, he sealed your fate. 

“I d-didn’t have a way to call for… for help. My phone was on the j-jet with jake.”

The sorrow that stained your words was all too familiar to Bucky. It was the same hopelessness that accompanied him every day that he was at Hydra. When he laid in the snow for hours upon hours after falling from the train. He never wished that kind of despondency, that kind of  misery on anyone. And knowing that you, the person who deserved it the least, experienced it for even a moment shattered him.

“I realized I… I didn’t h-have any options,” you breathed. 

A collapsed column blocked Bucky’s path as he tried to make his way from the sixth floor to the seventh. The concrete was too high, too precarious to scale. If he tried to climb it and got hurt, it would only serve to diminish your chances of survival. And he wasn’t willing to risk that. With a huff, Bucky exited the northwest stairwell in search of another route. This was a waste of time- time you didn’t have. 

He painstakingly checked every hall until he finally found another stairwell. His breathing came a little easier as he rocketed his way up the stairs, growing ever closer to you.

“So, I found this- this room. It’s quiet. It’s out of the w-way. I needed somewhere to hide. S-somewhere to…” A small crack of emotion cut through your voice, “somewhere to die.”

It wasn’t fair. It wasn’t fair that Jake got to return home safe and sound while you struggled to stay alive. It wasn’t fair that you had to seek out your own deathbed. Bucky wanted to scream, to break things, to spill every last drop of Jake’s blood. But he was a soldier, and this was a rescue mission.

“This seemed like as g-good a place as any,” you choked on a weak laugh. “Beats dying in the middle of a h-hallway, I guess.”

Bucky’s automatic response was to swear that you’d make it out. To promise that you weren’t going to die. But he bit his tongue. He couldn’t make those kinds of assurances. He’d do anything to bring you comfort but swearing that you’d return home alive seemed almost cruel. 

He pushed himself to move faster. He couldn’t let you die alone, especially not in this godforsaken place. As he sprinted up the last flight of stairs and ripped open the door to the fifteenth floor, he struggled to orient himself. You were in the northeast quadrant, but where was he? He searched for anything to indicate his location- but found no signage. No directory. 

Everything inside of him rattled with dread, with anxiety. Any moment now, you were going to die. You were going to take your last breath. All alone. A thick, suffocating wave of panic crashed over Bucky as he realized- you were going to die disappointed. You were going to leave this world knowing that he hadn’t gotten to you in time.

It was then that he noticed a faded arrow painted on the wall, with “NEQ” painted below it in block letters. Northeast quadrant. He was closer than he thought.

“I’m gonna be there in just a second, doll,” he said as he followed the arrows.  “I think I’m right around the corner.” 

This was just his way of making you feel better, you were sure of it. The hallways were long and winding. Each floor was a maze of its own. Even with your vague instructions, it could take him a while to find you. Still, Bucky’s words brought you comfort in the way that only he could.

“I know, I t-trust…” A metallic taste filled your mouth. A warm ooze trickled down your chin and dripped onto your chest. The warm, fuzzy feeling brought on by Bucky’s assurances faded. Of course, you knew you were in bad shape. But as blood leaked from your mouth, you wondered if these were your last moments.

Instantly, you searched for the words to say goodbye to Bucky. Time was slipping through your fingers, life draining from your body with each passing second. But before you drifted off into a never-ending sleep, you had to tell Bucky what he meant to you. You’d use all your strength, your last few breaths- whatever it took. He just had to know. 

But how does one say goodbye to a soulmate? You didn’t have the energy or capacity to make a grandiose speech. And the blood filling your mouth impeded your ability to speak. You wanted to tell bucky everything- how he comforted you, cared for you, made your life worth living. How your life revolved around him as though he were your personal sun. But nothing quite encapsulated the things you felt for him. Every word in the English language, every sonnet fell short. And the lack of oxygen getting to your brain sabotaged your phrasing.

“Buck, I think it’s… I think it’s almost t-time,” you rasped.

But just as you opened your blood-stained mouth to proclaim every feeling you ever had for him, the door flew open. Alarm coursed through your veins at the threat. Surely, a Hydra agent had stumbled upon your hiding place and was here to finish you off. The severe blood loss was no match for your training, thought. And, on instinct, you pulled your gun on the tall, dark silhouette standing in the doorway.

“Woah, hey!” Bucky raised his hands in surrender. “It’s me, it’s just me.”

At the sound of his voice, your arm fell limp. Your gun clattered to the floor. Your head lolled back against the wall. It had taken everything in you to try and protect yourself one last time. And now that your energy reserves were nearly depleted, you allowed your eyes to close.

“S-sorry…” A barely-there smile pulled at your lips. “My… my bad, Buck.”

“No, don’t be sorry, doll.” 

Bucky knelt in front of you, taking in your broken, bloodied body. He’d seen carnage before, witnessed more death than anyone should. But this, you- it was different. It hurt in places he didn’t know he had. But he didn’t let it show. Knowing you, you’d spend your last few moments comforting him, trying to make him feel better. And so, he forced a warm smile and tabled his breakdown for the moment.

“I’m actually impressed. I mean, you might be hurt, but you were ready to take me out just now,” he forced a chuckle. “That’s my girl.” His cool metallic hand brushed against your blood-stained cheek. 

And in that moment, something within you changed. Your eyes shot open. You blinked a few times before forcing your eyes shut once again. You gave your head a few good shakes. Surely, this wasn’t real- it couldn’t be. 

You opened your eyes wide once again, taking him in. “Bucky?”

With one shaking hand, you reached for him in the most pathetic attempt he’d ever seen. You were weak, dangerously so; it scared him to his core. But you were alive. 

He leaned in, meeting you in the middle, and let you stroke at his stubble for a moment.

“Yeah, I’m here,” he kissed your palm. “I’m so happy to see you.”

“You’re…” you other hand reached for him, but made it only a centimeter or two before falling into your lap. Bucky opted to take it in his. “You’re here?”

He nodded, “I could never leave you behind, sweetheart.”

He may have continued speaking after that, but you didn’t quite hear him. The emotion you’d tried so hard to swallow came bursting forward, crushing your every attempt at remaining levelheaded. Your fingers smoothed over Bucky’s cheek again and again. His name fell from your lips in what resembled a prayer. Tears rolled down your cheeks and mixed with the blood crusting over your skin. 

A soft, warm wave of peace rolled in, covering you like a well-loved quilt. The pain disappeared; the sorrow evaporated. All that remained was Bucky. This was the warm spring that followed a dark, bitter winter. The first rays of sun after a vicious storm. The first taste of home after a long time away. You let the familiar warmth of Bucky’s presence drown out the rest of the world until only you two remained.

“Sweetheart, did you hear me?” With a gentle squeeze of your hand, Bucky called you back to the present. “I need to look at your wound, okay?”

A sharp rush of pain nearly blinded you as you lifted your shirt, exposing the bloody mess. But even as Bucky appraised the gunshot wound that turned your abdomen into horror scene, you couldn’t find it in you to worry. Your hands lazily found his shoulder, his chest, his face; you just wanted to touch him. To know, without a doubt, that he was there. That he was real.

“Hey, we… we need to t-talk,” you whispered as Bucky did his best to quickly bandage your wound for transport. “I n-need to talk- to talk to you…”

Bucky nodded, “sure thing, doll. Absolutely. We can talk about whatever you want. But right now…” he returned your shirt to its rightful position and met your gaze. “Right now, I need to get you out to the jet, okay? We can talk later.”

He guided your arms around his neck, lifted you into his arms, and moved as fast as he could through the winding hallways. His quick gait set your nerves alight with pain. Every bump, every jostle had you gasping for breath. And though it was a necessary evil, the guilt still sat in Bucky’s stomach like a rock. His repeated ‘I’m sorrys’ were nearly constant, doubling with your every grimace and groan. But he couldn’t slow down, couldn’t let the time slip away; you didn’t have much left.

Between pained sounds and twisted expressions of discomfort, you said the same thing on a loop. Again and again and again, you pled with him, using energy you didn’t have. 

“We need to… to t-talk.”

“I h-have to tell you.”

“Can I talk to y-you about- about something?”

And though Bucky would’ve loved nothing more than to have a long heart to heart with you as you two often did, you weren’t strong enough. He couldn’t let you waste your finite energy on a conversation with him. And so, he responded to each of your requests with an ask of his own, begging you to save your strength. He promised that the two of you could talk tomorrow, that there was plenty of time for a conversation later. 

But ‘plenty of time’ almost seemed like an empty promise. And ‘tomorrow’ felt like a lie. Would you have a ‘later’? He didn’t know. But he didn’t want you wasting your oxygen, not when he feared it might be your last breath.

Boarding the jet with you alive in his arms almost felt like a win to Bucky. Almost. Sure, he’d gotten you out with your heart still beating, but your condition worsened by the second. And the grave looks the med team wore as Bucky gently rested you on the treatment table dug a deep pit in his stomach. 

They sprang into action, placing IVs and delivering medications. Scissors glided through your shirt and exposed your broken body to the med team. Bucky knew they’d seen their share of gnarly injuries over the years, but he swore that they recoiled at the sight of your wounds. 

With a shake of his head, Bucky refocused. He had to get you out of there- to get you home. He headed for the controls and planned to set the jet in motion. But he made it only a step toward the cockpit before a hand caught his.

“S-stay…” you whispered. “Please.”

His heart shattered. “I’m not leaving you, doll, I promise. I just have to get us in the air, okay?” With great care, he placed a kiss to your hand and set it at your side. “I’ll be back in just a minute.”

Bucky’s body operated on muscle memory alone as he initiated take off. His mind was occupied, completely and totally, by the sound of your weak voice begging him not to leave. The sound played on a loop inside his brain, cutting him deeper each time. You’d already been abandoned once today; he was certain you feared it would happen again. 

With a deep breath and a quick reset, Bucky did what he had to do. He needed to be on his A-game for you, needed to be his very best. Only a few hours ago, you’d trusted someone with your life, and they failed you. Bucky wasn’t about to do the same. He worked carefully to chart the fastest route back to the compound, opting to forego FRIDAY’s proposed path. It kept him from your side longer than he would’ve liked, but less time in the air seemed like the best option. The sooner he could get you to the med bay, with its massive, brilliant medical staff and unlimited resources, the better. 

Just as he finalized the flight plan and asked FRIDAY to notify the med bay of your impending arrival, an unsettling sound pulled his focus. It was an ominous beeping, alarming your care team of a sudden, life-threatening change. 

Gloved hands moved at lightning speed; voices yelled medical jargon back and forth. And you laid there on the table. No heartbeat. No respirations. Deathly still. 

Bucky stood on the periphery, too horrified to get any closer. 

He thought it best, of course, to stay out the med team’s way. But knew deep down it was an excuse. He was simply too terrified to lose you. If he got closer, if he saw you struggling to stay alive, all of this would suddenly become real. And he couldn’t handle that. 

“Barnes!” A nurse screamed at him, “did you hear me?”

Bucky forced himself back to the present. “No… I, um-”

“She has no pulse- get over here, we need you to do compressions!”

Bucky’s desperate need to help you, to save you, overpowered his fear. And in an instant, he was at your side. He loomed over you, his hands locked together, preparing to help resuscitate you. But once again, his fear reared its ugly head. You were already so badly injured, so weak. And he was far too strong. What if he made your condition worse? What if he-

“Come on!” The nurse yelled at him, “start compressions- now!”

He did as he was told. He pressed into your body with a measured pressure, careful not to crush your chest. But his cautious compressions didn’t cut it. The nurses instructed him to push harder. To “actually compress” your chest- and Bucky followed instructions. 

But as he did so, a sickly snapping sound exploded from your body. Bucky recoiled instantly; his face contorted in horror.

“What are you doing? Keep going!”

“I can’t- I think I broke her ribs,” Bucky shouted at the doctor. “What do I do?”

“Keep going!” The nurse yelled, “It happens- just keep going.”

Bucky broke out into a cold sweat. His stomach turned at the thought of hurting you, of causing you even more pain; you’d been through enough as it was. But he did as he was told. With each round of compressions, he swore he created new fractures. He felt every splinter, every crack as he put pressure on your chest. 

He wanted to sever every last nerve-ending in his hand; anything to rid him of the sickening sensation creeping through his palm. But if doing this saved you, it was worth the nightmares.

He watched as the two nurses provided your supplemental breaths and tended to your endlessly bleeding wound. The doctor called ‘clear’ every so often, shocking you with a defibrillator in an attempt to restore your heartbeat.

Round after round of compressions, breathing, and shocks passed by without signs of improvement. You remained lifeless, unresponsive. A syringe of epinephrine delivered straight to your chest did nothing. And Bucky felt what little hope he had slipping through the cracks in your ribs. He couldn’t believe he was about to lose you; couldn’t believe he’d have to watch you die. Hot tears blurred his vision and streaked down his cheeks. His legs went numb. At any second, he knew his knees would give out, knew he’d crumble to the floor under the crushing weight of grief.

The doctor deemed the next shock your last, and Bucky almost doubled over. 

“Come on, doll, just-” He swallowed a sob, “just stay. Stay. Do it for me, I’m begging you. Please?”

The doctor called one last “clear” and delivered your final shock, only to be met with the rhythmic beeping of your heart monitor.

“Sinus rhythm restored,” announced the nurse to Bucky’s left. She appraised the waves on your EKG and gave a nod. “She’s stable.”

After what felt like an eternity, Bucky took a breath. He stretched his tense fingers and did his best to  relax the rock-hard knots forming in his shoulders. A new crop of hope bloomed cautiously inside his chest, but he couldn’t allow it to blossom and flourish just yet. You weren’t out of the woods; there was a very real possibility that your heart might stop again. And he wasn’t sure how many times the doctor could revive you before throwing in the towel.

Less than a minute after Bucky’s cautious optimism sprouted anew, a soul crushing sight dashed it completely. A sharp gasp filled his lungs, a shudder rocked his frame. Shades of deep, dark blue bloomed under the skin of your chest. Black and purple splotches stained your sternum. Some spots were already starting to swell. He extended a hand in your direction but recoiled in an instant, fearing he’d hurt you yet again. 

“Happens all the time,” one of the nurses said with a shrug. “Believe me, broken ribs are the least of her worries.”

Somehow, her words didn’t make him feel any better. He ached to hold your hand, to sweep a gentle caress across your cheek. But he didn’t dare touch you after what he did. Every glimpse of your bruised, swollen chest sent bile rushing into his throat. 

The three dedicated members of the med team worked tirelessly for the rest of the flight. They did everything in their power to keep your condition steady, to maintain the life they worked so hard to save. It brought Bucky comfort to see them staying so close, ready to jump into action if need be.  

Bucky, like the med team, hovered. He couldn’t bring himself to leave your side. You seemed too fragile, your condition too tenuous. He counted your every breath, took stock of every beat of your heart on the monitor. Stepping away for even a second felt wrong. He needed to be there if you crashed again, if the doctor needed extra hands. He needed to be there to help.

And if you woke up, he wanted to be the first face you saw. 

But you didn’t wake. A groan here, a muscle twitch there- that was all you could spare. And though Bucky wanted nothing more than to see you open your eyes, he thanked the universe for keeping you unconscious. He knew tsunamis of pain rippled in the wings, waiting to overtake you the second you woke.

Bucky held his breath as the jet landed. Every jarring bump, every vibration, forced his heart into his throat. He feared that even the slightest impact would send you into cardiac arrest. He flicked his eyes from the rising and falling of your chest to the rhythmic flashing of your heart monitor and back again. Nothing changed, no alarms sounded. And when the jet finally stilled, Bucky breathed a deep sigh of relief. He just needed to get you to the med bay for treatment, and this whole nightmare would be over. 

He didn’t like being optimistic. It felt like a set-up, like false hope. If he told himself you’d survive and you didn’t, the fall would be that much harder, that much more devastating. 

But being realistic wasn’t any better. Telling himself that you were too far gone, that you weren’t going to make it, felt wrong. To him, it seemed like he was cursing you. Like willing your death into existence. Like begging the universe to end your life. 

And so, he opted for a neutral mantra. “She’s home,” he told himself. “She’s home. She’s home. She’s home.”

The distance to the medbay felt longer than usual. The hallways seemed to stretch on forever, the double doors to the triage center seemed to grow farther and farther away. Bucky followed your gurney closely, only allowing a few inches of space between the two of you. He couldn’t be separated from you again. He wouldn’t. He needed to be with you every second, watching over you. 

A dark cloud of impending doom loomed over his psyche. It whispered to him, telling him that if he left your side, if he let you out of his sight, you’d die. You’d be gone forever. And it would be his fault. He knew it was nonsense, that this was just his anxiety operating on overdrive. But he couldn’t shake the fear. And risking it wasn’t an option.

“No visitors past this point,” a security guard placed an arm in front of Bucky as he tried to enter the triage unit.

Bucky tried to go around the man, watching as the medical staff carried you farther out of reach. “I’m not a visitor, I’m an agent-” 

“No agents past this point, then,” the guard rolled his eyes. “Only patients and medical staff. You can have a seat over there.”

A small table sat against the wall, flanked by two chairs. It was a sad, makeshift excuse for a waiting room that operated as a device to keep people from hanging around. But bucky couldn’t be discouraged. He took a seat in one of the chairs, determined to wait there as long as he had to. He knew he’d missed a number of important phone calls by now, and probably several meetings. But he didn’t care; all that mattered was you. 

Dread circled Bucky like a buzzard as he waited. It was taking too long- why was it taking so long? How much time did the medical staff need? You were stable when the jet landed, the nurse said so. Why were there no updates? All Bucky needed was a nod, a bit of information. But he remained in the dark, wondering if you died on the operating table.

Maria found Bucky slumped in a chair with a zombie-like air about him. He was expressionless, his gaze hollow. His palms traced the same track up and down his thighs in a never-ending cycle. One look and she knew: something was very wrong.

“Hey,” she called softly, hoping not to startle him.

But Bucky didn’t respond- he didn’t even react. He just sat there, his unblinking stare burning a hole in the tile. An uneasiness enveloped Maria. She’d never seen Bucky so empty, so despondent. As she stared at him, she found herself fearing the worst. ‘Maybe he just received terrible news’ she thought. ‘Maybe he’s grieving’.

“Hey,” she tried again, nudging her foot against his. 

He came back to life with a start. A sharp inhale filled his chest, his eyes blinked wildly. But his palms never stopped moving in their endless cycle against his tactical pants. And he never actually looked at her.

“Hi…” he breathed. 

Hill took the seat opposite him. She conjured the gentlest, warmest tone she could find, “is everything okay?”

Bucky balled his hands into tight fists and stretched them out again. Maria noticed blood- your blood- crusting under his fingernails and staining his skin. But before she could get a good look, he grabbed the arms of the chair. His palms rubbed fervently against the plastic handles for a moment until they moved to his face. He ran his hands along his jaw, his spiky stubble poking into his skin.

“Barnes, what happened? Are you-”

Finally, his head snapped in her direction, “I can still feel it…”

“Feel what?”

Bucky’s head fell into his hands. He pressed his palms against his eyes and dragged them down his face. Maria watched him fall apart in slow motion. He seemed to be unraveling, one cell at a time. And when he finally spoke, shame made his words almost unintelligible. 

“She crashed on the jet…”

“Oh...” Maria did her best to keep a calm, even tone. Her concern for you vibrated in her chest, but she didn’t dare let it free- not when Bucky was moments away from a meltdown. “Is she-”

“The med team needed help. There weren’t enough of them- they needed me to do chest compressions,” Bucky said, his voice low. “And I broke- I crushed her ribs.” 

A sharp shudder rocked his entire body. Just thinking of that moment, when his too-strong hands destroyed your chest, was enough to make him sick. To scar him for life. To haunt him. Of all the horrible things he’d done in over the years, this was the worst. He gave his hands a quick shake, hoping to rid his nerve endings of the sensation.

“I felt her bones snapping under my hands,” Bucky’s words dripped with shame. “And I can still… I still feel it.”

“Okay,” Maria said gently. “Well, if she-”

“She was already in such bad shape,” Bucky swiped a tear from his cheek. “And I… I hurt her. I made it so much worse.” 

His head fell into his hands once again and did not reemerge. 

“Hey, look at me,” Maria gave his arm a gentle touch. 

Bucky only shook his head. 

“Come on, Barnes, just look at me for a second.”

Again, he refused. 

Maria abandoned her chair and sat instead on the small table. She never got this close to Bucky. Usually, she preferred to give him his space. He wasn’t the touchy-feely type- unless you were around. But he was lost in a shame spiral, adrift with no hope of return. And he needed rescuing. She placed her hands on his and gently removed them from his face. 

“You saved her life,” Maria said. “Twice. You rescued her from the base, and when the med team needed help, you came through.”

“But I-”

“Did it work?” Maria asked, her tine almost stern. “Did the chest compressions work?”

Bucky nodded. 

Maria gave him a shrug, “That’s all that matters. She can recover from a few broken ribs, but if you hadn’t been there-” 

Bucky averted his gaze as his eyes filled with tears. 

“Hey,” Maria grabbed his face, bringing his focus back to her. “If you hadn’t been there, she’d be dead.”

Maria’s words fought hard against the demeaning voice that lived inside Bucky’s head. It screamed at him, telling him that he shouldn’t believe her, that he was a monster, that he almost killed you. Usually, Bucky allowed his inner demons to run free. He listened to them without pause, believing anything and everything they told him, no matter how vile. But Maria was steadfast and unshakable in her sentiments; she truly believed what she was saying. And by some miracle, Bucky did, too.

“Thanks…” He granted her a hollow smile and a small nod. 

Hill sat in silence with him for a few hours. She didn’t try to make small talk or ask what was going on inside his head. She simply existed near him, sharing the space so that he didn’t have to be alone. She ignored important texts and sent every call to voicemail. She knew it was exactly what you’d do for him, if you were able. And she did her best to fill your shoes.

Abruptly, Bucky’s head snapped in her direction. His pulse thrummed against his skin as a new wave of anxiety crashed over him. “She kept saying…” he sighed. “She kept saying we needed to talk. She wanted to talk to me about something.”

Maria cocked her head to the side, “About what?”

He shrugged. “I told her we could talk later because there would be plenty of time,” Bucky’s words grew shaky. He found himself near tears for what felt like the millionth time that day. Guilt sucker punched him. “What if… what if there isn’t more time for us? What if that was all we were ever going to get? What if-”

“You’ll get more time,” Maria said with certainty. “The universe has a way of evening things out. You were robbed of time once; it won’t happen again. Plus, you’re deserved some fucking karmic retribution- you’re owed this.”

Bucky wondered how she could be that sure of something so ethereal. But she was steady, solid as a rock. She didn’t waver in her words or add caveats at the end. She, somehow, knew it to be true. And Bucky couldn’t help but believe her.

But when Fury called her for the eighth time, she knew quiet time was over.

“I have to go, okay? Fury can’t do anything without me, he’s hopeless.” She stood from her seat and rested a hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “Call if you need anything.”

Bucky thanked her a million times over and, for the first time, gave Maria a hug. She would never know how much her reassurances helped him. She’d pulled him from the ledge and gave him what he desperately needed: perspective.

In the hours that followed, he let her words play on a constant loop inside his mind. “If you hadn’t been there, she’d be dead,” he heard her say. “You’ll get more time.” The sickening feeling of your bones snapping under his strength never faded, and the fear of losing you still had him in a chokehold, but Maria’s words quieted his mind. 

In the sad, empty waiting room, time seemed to mutate. Some of the hours dragged, others whizzed by. Bucky wasn’t sure how long he’d been there. Was it ten hours? Or twenty? He didn’t really care. He’d wait lifetimes for you. 

He saw the security guards change shifts once, twice. It was the only thing alerting him to the passage of time, as part of him believed it was standing still. On the third shift change, they told him to go home. 

“They’ll call you if there’s an update”, said one of the guards. “It’d probably be a good idea for you to go get some sleep, or something.”

Bucky knew he looked like hell. Your blood left crimson streaks across his face and neck. And the dark circles he usually wore under his eyes were a deep shade of plum. But he couldn’t leave, he couldn’t sleep. Not when your life hung in the balance. Not when you needed him. 

A few more hours passed with no news, and Bucky found himself teetering on the edge of insanity. An angry, desperate voice bellowed inside his head. It told him to bust through the doors and find you, no matter what it took- even if it meant hurting people in the process. The gun secured to his hip and the knife strapped to his ankle became eerily attractive. His hands itched to reach for the weapons, to hold someone at gun point until they allowed him to see you. But he couldn’t to give in to the fear, to the violence. It took him years of therapy and long talks with you to stop seeing himself as a monster- and he refused to destroy the progress you helped him make. 

A doctor stepped out of the double doors and looked in Bucky’s direction, “Sergeant Barnes?”  

Bucky was on his feet before he knew what hit him. This was it. After what felt like an eternity of not knowing whether you lived or died, he was about to have an answer. Sweat dampened his palm, his brow as he stood in front of your doctor. 

He didn’t know he was even capable of this kind of fear, this kind of agony. And though he was an impossibly strong physical specimen, Bucky knew he’d never be able to lift the weight of the grief that followed your loss. He knew that, if you died, he’d spend the rest of his life dragging himself from place to place, unable to stand, unable to push back against the overwhelming, oppressive force of losing you. 

Your doctor spoke quickly and professionally about your condition, but the words turned to mush the second they reached Bucky’s brain. The combination of medical jargon and pure panic made their meanings imperceptible. But one phrase managed to cut through the fog of Bucky’s anxiety and exhaustion: “you can see her now.”

And just like that, Bucky took off. His fatigued body did its best to carry him through the halls, stumbling every now and then on the smooth tile of the hospital floors. But he didn’t dare slow down. He had to get to you. 

By the time he reached the door to your room, he found himself shaking- almost shivering- with anxiety. He knew you were alive, of course. Knew that the doctors had been successful in saving your life. But something in him doubted their handiwork. Something in him swore that if he didn’t get to you in the next half second, you’d flatline. Again. 

He could practically feel his brain rattling around inside his skull, his teeth chattered against one another. And the sharp tremors in his hands made it nearly impossible to get a grip on the door handle. Panic and frustration coursed through him as the he tried again and again to gain entry to your room with no luck. A strangled sob forced its way out of his chest and caught the attention of a nurse- one of the nurses who helped keep you alive on the jet. 

“Hey…” Her eyes drifted to Bucky’s shaking hands. “Need some help?” Before Bucky could answer, she’d abandoned the medication she was prepping, discarded her gloves, and made her way to his side.

“Here, let me.” Her soft, sympathetic tone was almost too kind; Bucky’s eyes blurred with tears. She turned the door handle and gestured for Bucky to go inside.

His “thank you” was for more than just the door. 

Bucky took a few steps inside and drew in a sharp breath; he’d never seen you in such severe condition. Over the many hours that Bucky waited for you outside, all of your bruises grew darker, more menacing. They stained your throat, your face, your arms. He didn’t even want to think about the ones on your chest- the ones he caused. Dried blood crusted in your hair and formed a path down the side of your face. It sat caked under your fingernails and rested in the creases of your palms. Thankfully, your gunshot wound was covered by gauze and concealed by your gown. But knowing it was there was enough to make Bucky sick. He, of course, witnessed and inflicted, his fair share of carnage over the years. But he knew your wound would haunt him for years to come- simply because it was yours. 

All he wanted was to be near you. To sit at your bedside and hold your hand. But he didn’t dare to get any closer. Electrodes attached a dozen wires to your chest. IVs sat lodged in the crooks of your elbows, in the backs of your hands. Machines and monitors kept track of your vitals. And who was he to disturb this fragile, vital ecosystem? What if he accidentally pulled out one of your IVs? What if he detached a wire by mistake? He’d already hurt you once today, he wasn’t about to do it again. 

He, instead, opted to stand at attention. A few feet away. For your safety. He didn’t touch you, didn’t even say your name. He simply stared at you, counting your every breath. 

An hour- or maybe two- passed by with him like this. Nurses checked on you, doctors poked their heads in. And every time, they told him he was permitted to sit by your bedside. But he just shook his head. Sure, slipping his hand into yours, being close to you- it would provide him with incomprehensible comfort. But he couldn’t, not when you were so severely injured. 

After the third hour, Bucky feared his sanity was slipping. A wicked voice lodged deep in his psyche suddenly awakened. It whispered to him, taunted him. Maybe this was all a dream. Maybe he was asleep in the waiting room. Maybe you didn’t survive. Maybe…

And he would’ve believed it, had you not snapped him out of the vicious spiral. 

“Buck?” He feared he’d never hear you voice again, but there it was. Hoarse and weak- but yours.

Bucky flew to your side. He cradled your face gingerly in his hands, completely consumed by the need to touch you, to feel you, to know that you were real. His palms laid flush against your cheeks, his thumbs sweeping over your skin. And in an instant, the sickly sensation of your snapping bones vanished.

A hurricane of tangled thoughts and emotions crashed over him. He had so much to he wanted to say, so much he wanted to confess to you. But the words refused to arrange themselves properly. Suddenly, Bucky wished he’d used his ample time in the waiting room to better organize his thoughts. He wished he’d sought out a pen and a scrap of paper and used them to plan and articulate his sentiment. But even if he’d found the supplies he needed, he wouldn’t have been able to jot a single thing down. Not with his shaking, unsteady hands.

Anxious words and broken sobs got stuck in his throat and formed a garbled, unintelligible mess as they left his mouth. But it was the best he could do. He stared at you, waiting for your response.

“I, um…” you looked at him for a long moment. The haze of head trauma, blood loss, and pain killers made you foggy. You did your best to trace your steps back through Bucky’s words, certain that your condition was the cause of your confusion. But after a significant pause, you came up empty. “Sorry, I- what?”

Bucky slid one of his hands into yours and gave a soft laugh. “Sorry. I tried to say-” He sat quiet for a moment. What had he tried to say, exactly? He wasn’t sure. With a small shake of his head, he re-rerouted. “Um, it doesn’t matter. Here, how’s this:” He cleared his throat and spoke with the sharpest pronunciation possible. “How are you feeling?”

Your laugh- Bucky’s favorite laugh- bubbled up to the surface. But regret swallowed you whole as pain shot through your head, your chest, your side. The hurt radiated through your entire being. It rendered you breathless, and left your face twisted in an agonized grimace.

Bucky didn’t like how long it took you to recover from the small chuckle you shot his way. A pang of worry shot through him.  “Don’t exert yourself, okay?” He swept a thumb across your cheek, “you don’t wanna tear your stitches or...” He cleared his throat, “aggravate any, um, broken bones.” Bones that he broke.

“No, I’m…” you squeezed your eyes shut for a long moment before opening them again. The pain slowly receded. “I’m good, I’m okay. I just- breathing is hard. I forgot how shitty it feels to have broken ribs.”

Bucky nodded. His teeth sunk into the smooth flesh of his cheek. A metallic taste coated his mouth. He didn’t want to tell you the truth. Didn’t want you to know that he was the cause of your severe pain. But you deserved to know, didn’t you? With a deep sigh, he opened his mouth, intent on telling you what really happened. But you cut him off. 

“Thank you, Buck. For coming to get me. I really thought I was…” Hot tears stung your eyes and blurred your vision. “I thought that was it for me, you know? And I just want you to know how-” you sniffed, “how grateful I am.”

Bucky left your side for only a second, retrieving a box of tissues from the counter across the room. He was back in no time and swept a tissue across your cheek to catch your tears.

“I know we always say that we have each other’s backs but you… you meant it,” you said. A small smile pulled at your lips, “thank you for meaning it.”

Bucky nodded. He did his best to keep his breathing steady, to stop himself from falling apart at the seams. He knew exactly what it felt like to be left behind, to wait for your last moments- alone. 

“I wasn’t gonna leave you there, doll. I couldn’t.” 

You gave a small nod. “Yeah, I- I wish my partner had felt the same way…” The hurt in your voice was unmistakable. It sliced though Bucky’s chest. “I didn’t think he would ever do something like that. I mean, I thought we were friends.”

The mere thought of Jake brought a familiar rage to the forefront of Bucky’s mind. He didn’t understand how anyone could be so callous, so uncaring- so indifferent to the well-being of others. The part of him that swore off unnecessary violence remained quiet as the rest of him imagined Jake’s demise. He wanted your disloyal partner to suffer. To squirm and squeal and regret that he ever left you behind. But that could wait- you were the priority.

“Yeah, I didn’t expect him to be that kind of person,” Bucky sighed, “he seemed like a stand-up guy.”

Silence filled the room as you thought over Jake’s desertion. His abandonment hurt. It stung in places you didn’t expect. You’d taken Jake under your wing and did everything in your power to be the best leader possible. All you wanted was to help him. To set him up for success. 

And after working alongside Bucky for so long, you’d forgotten that disloyalty to one’s partner was even an option. 

“He probably panicked,” you tried to rationalize. “And then once he realized what he’d done, maybe he…”

There was no rationalizing this. 

An ugly realization slithered into your mind. “After he left, I think he probably hoped I’d just die… that way I wouldn’t be able to give my side of the story.” The weight of Jake’s actions hit you like a train. Rivulets of warm tears rolled down your cheeks, only to be swept away by Bucky’s gentle hand. With a small shake of your head, you did your best to banish the feelings of abandonment and betrayal. Wallowing would only make you more miserable. And you didn’t need emotional pain on top of the physical agony that already plagued you.

“Well, joke’s on him,” you shrugged, “cause I’m still alive.” Pain radiated through your chest, bringing a grimace to your face. “Kind of.” 

Bucky didn’t understand how you could just dismiss the bad feelings. Couldn’t understand your propensity for levity. Your partner left you for dead without a second thought- and yet, you found a way to joke about it. It was something he’d always admired about you, something he wished he was capable of. 

You gave a strained laugh, “I can’t wait to see the look on Jake’s face when he finds out that I didn’t die.”

Bucky wasn’t sure what prompted him to say it. It left his mouth without his brain’s authorization.

“But you did.”

He wished to take the words back, but it was too late. They hung in the air, just out of his reach. 

“I…” you struggled to grasp Bucky’s words. “I what?”

This was not the time- or the place, or the way- to tell you the truth. But he didn’t have a choice. His clumsy words made his bed, and now he had to lie in it. 

“You, um…” Bucky didn’t want to think about what happened, let alone say it out loud. But he owed it to you to be honest. Especially after Jake had lied to you about being a trustworthy partner. Bucky scratched at the stubble on his face, ran a hand through his hair. Anything to delay the inevitable. But he couldn’t put it off for long. “Your heart stopped- you died. On the jet.”

Only one word fell from your lips, “Oh…” 

“And while I’m at it, I might as well tell you that…” Bucky took a deep inhale. He was in too deep now. And keeping this from you any longer felt like lying. “That your ribs are broken because of me.”

A quizzical look crossed your face, “what do you mean?”

“I mean… the med team was short staffed on the jet. There were only three of them. And when you crashed, it was- it was an all hands on deck situation.” He flashed back to the moment when the alarms sounded. When your EKG flatlined. A shudder ran through him. “They needed me to do chest compressions. And I- I didn’t want to hurt you, but the nurse said I wasn’t pushing hard enough to actually help you. And when I pushed harder- I broke your ribs.”

Bucky searched your face for something- anything. Anger. Fear. Betrayal. But he found nothing. Your expression was as neutral as they come. He feared that something lingered just below the surface. That once you fully processed his words, you’d erupt into a perfect storm of disgust and disappointment.

He told himself to wait silently until you made up your mind. But the outburst exploded from his lips before he could stop it. “I’m sorry- I’m so sorry, sweetheart. You know I’d never want to hurt you, I would never do anything to hurt you. But I… they told me I had to push harder. Or it wasn’t going to work. And I just wanted it to work, I wanted you to be okay, and-”

It took almost all of your strength to raise your hand and place a finger to Bucky’s lips. He fell silent.

“Buck, it’s okay.”

He tried to form a rebuttal, but you cut him off. 

“You didn’t have to rescue me, but you did. No questions asked, no hesitation. You saved my life by getting me out of there. And you saved me again by helping the med team.” Your hand drifted from Bucky’s face and landed in his palm. “You didn’t do anything wrong.”

Bucky didn’t say anything else. His fingers traced gentle patterns on your palm. His eyes fell downward. You could almost see the shame eating him alive from the inside.

 “Hey,” you intertwined your fingers with his. “I can handle a few broken ribs.”

“No, I- I know you can. I just…” A sad smiled flickered across his lips. “I feel terrible. You went through a lot. And I just don’t like knowing I made it worse.”

A long silence filled the room. You’d seen this side of Bucky more times than you could count. And you knew him well enough to know what followed. He was going to feel bad- terrible, actually- about this for a while. There was no accelerating the process or absolving him of his guilt. No amount of reassurances could save him from it. He just had to sit with it. One day, the weight would diminish. But it was going to take time. And that was okay. 

You gave his hand a squeeze. “I thought your voice was a hallucination, you know.”

Bucky lifted his head.

“And when you came into the room, I actually thought that was a hallucination, too.” A smile stretched across your face, “I mean, I thought I was losing my mind.”  

Bucky gave a half-hearted chuckle. He didn’t want to think about you in that room by yourself. About you struggling to tell what was real.

“But then you touched me…” You raised your hand and brushed it across your cheek, mimicking him. “And that’s when I realized that you were real- that you were there.” You fell quiet for a moment, lost in the memory of Bucky’s rescue. “It was like, in that moment, I wasn’t scared anymore. I wasn’t scared of the pain. I wasn’t scared of dying. I was just scared that…”

“What?”

“You have to promise not to laugh,” you told him with an authoritative tone. “Cause I know it’s corny, or cheesy, or whatever.”

“Sweetheart,” Bucky drew an X over his heart. “I’m not gonna laugh at you.”

You stared at him with narrowed eyes, sizing up his promise. But, of course, you knew Bucky would never tease or ridicule you about something like this. 

“Okay, fine, I um… I was scared that I’d never see you again. If I died, I mean.”

Bucky’s lungs emptied. He couldn’t remember how to breathe, how to speak. A sudden ache ripped through his heart as it splintered and shattered into a million pieces. To know that you thought of him in what you believed were your last moments somehow ripped him apart and put him back together all at once.

Your voice cracked. Tears filled your eyes. “I was afraid that we’d already run out of time. I was afraid that we weren’t going to get any more.” A few soft sobs escaped from your throat, followed by a pained groan. But you pushed passed the throbbing in your chest. “But I was so relieved. Because I got to see you one last time. It was the most intense sense of peace I’ve ever experienced.”

Bucky struggled to hold on to his composure. He felt himself crumbling, weakening under the weight of your words. 

“But then I realized- I realized I’d never get to tell you. And you kept saying we could talk later, but I didn’t know if there would be a ‘later’. And when I blacked out, I was so full of…” You shook your head ever so slightly, sending a few tears dripping onto your cheeks. “I had so much regret. Because I needed you to know.”

“To know what?” Bucky leaned in close, searching your face for any inkling, any clue. “Doll, it’s ‘later’. Tell me- whatever it is. You can tell me now, it’s-”

Your lips met his in a soft kiss. In it, everything you’d ever felt for him came rushing forward. Admiration. Longing. Lust. Obsession. Adoration. Love. 

A sting of pain jolted through you as your split lip brushed his, but you didn’t care. His hands found your face, your fingers curled into the collar of his shirt. It was always supposed to be this way. 

When the two of you finally separated, Bucky simply stared at you. He didn’t move, he didn’t speak. He wasn’t sure he knew how. 

“I love you, Buck. I’ve loved you- for so long.” A huff left your chest, “So. Long.” 

Still, Bucky remained silent. Nerves began crawling through you like vines, twisting their way through every fiber of your being. But you owed it to yourself, and to Bucky, to tell him the truth. 

“And I just… I know how you see yourself. And I know you don’t think you’re even worthy of my friendship, let alone love. But I was so anxious, cause I thought you’d never know the truth. I thought I’d die without getting to tell you. And you’d live the rest of your life thinking that you’re not worthy, that no one could ever love you. But I- I love you. I just needed you to know.”

The silence made your ears ring. Bucky’s face still wore a mask of bewilderment. And you feared you’d ruined everything. 

“You don’t have to say it back, though,” you said. “I’m not gonna stop being your friend if this is an unrequited thing.”

Finally, Bucky came back to life. He rolled his eyes and let a scoff escape his lips. He leaned in close, the tip of his nose almost brushing yours. “Unrequited? I broke every SWORD rule and policy. Abducted medical staff. Stole a jet. And went on an unauthorized mission. All to get you back. I didn’t even know if you were alive, I just- I had to bring you home.” 

He closed the small gap that remained between your face and his and granted you warm, gentle kiss that tasted like home. “I did all that- and you thought there was even a chance that I didn’t love you back?” Bucky gave a playful roll of his eyes, “you don’t know me at all, sweetheart.”

You returned his eye roll. "Well, you're a really great friend to me. And you always have been. So, I didn’t take a rescue as a proclamation of love,” you gave a strained chuckle. “I just thought-”

“I’ve loved you for…” Bucky thought back over the course of your friendship. The day you first met, the first time you helped him through a panic attack, the time he made you the ugliest cake in the world for your birthday. He saw his life in two parts: before he met you and after he met you. And he so preferred the after. 

“I don’t even know how long,” he shrugged. It was almost automatic. His feelings for you didn’t need a slow, gradual build up. They descended upon him all at once, like the world’s most beautiful avalanche.  “It’s been a long time- an embarrassing amount of time, probably,” he laughed.

“Oh, so we’re both cowards then,” you shot him a wink. “Too afraid to tell the other how we feel.”

Bucky nodded, “It seems that way…”

“But you weren’t too scared to steal a jet and run into possible gun fire?” you quipped.

“Nope. Didn’t even think about it,” he said matter-of-factly. “I just wanted to find you.”

You’d never experienced a love- a commitment- like that. It sent a rush of warmth into your cheeks and somehow eased the pain plaguing your body. You knew in your heart you would’ve done the same for Bucky without a second thought. But knowing that he was so fiercely determined to bring you home felt almost unbelievable. You had the proof, though, right there in front of you. This man, who you loved, loved you too. And loved you enough to risk his life for you. It wasn’t something you’d ever ask him to do, and you knew you’d never have to. He’d do it without hesitation. Without reservation. He’d walk through fire for you if it meant bringing you home. 

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@beefybuckrrito @shadytalementality  @everything-burns-down @rainbow-unicorn-pony  @mandersshow @breakablebarnes @psychoticmason @glxwingrxse @lonewolf471 @dreamerglassesgirl  @the-gods-gloted-but-they-burned @purpleshallot @seitmai @itvy5601 @dailyreverie @navs-bhat @eviesaurusrex @themorningsunshine  @evangeliamerryll @buckys-metal-arm @broadwaybabe18 @the-kestrels-feather  @avocadotoastwithegg @goldylions @lokisasgardianvampirequeen @vrittivsanghavi @idkitsem @avengetheunnatural  @rassvetsky @hereforbuckyandsteve @barnesselo  @juvellian @samanthacookieone  @frombkjar @blackbirdsinatrenchcoat

[sturniqlo]

Shrunken Laundry- M.S

summary: matt loves doing the laundry, and y/n finds out she's pregnant what better way to tell him than using the laundry BLURB

cw: pregnancy, fluff

an: this has been sitting in my drafts for about two weeks now lol

masterlist

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Y/n and Matt have been married for almost two years now. Dated for three engaged for one and now married. They were in that point in their lives where they wanted to start a family. They've been trying for about a month at this point. After countless negative pregnancy tests and disappointed tears, Y/n had finally gotten a positive. The only downside? Matt wasn't there when she took it.

Matt had to go and film with Nick and Chris for their channel earlier today. Y/n was sitting on their dining table eating a bowl of cereal when she got a notification from her cycle app. 'your a week late!' She gasped, Y/n was always the one to keep track of her period cycle, however this time it might've slipped her mind.

She nervously, yet excitedly, stood up with her phone in hand and went into her shared bathroom with Matt and started recording on her phone in case it was the moment. "Okay, so I just got a notification from my period app and I'm one week late. So, hopefully I get a positive." She props her phone on the counter and crosses her fingers in hope. Bending down to the cabinets she grabs the last two test and opens them. "I'll be back." She says to her phone, walking to the private toilet she closes the door behind her. She pees on the sticks, and puts the cap back on both of them.

She goes back out, washes her hands and flips the tests over and waits. "I'm nervous but excited if that makes sense? Me and Matt have been wanting a baby for some time now. And I hope I can give us a baby." She tears up at the thoughts. After five minutes of talking to her phone she notices that it's time to check. "Okay, I'm going to check now." With shaky hands, Y/n grabs both test in one hand, still flipped over, and she lets out a shaky breath. She flips them over and gasps. || is what she sees on one test and sees + on the other. "Oh my god! Oh my god! I'm pregnant!" She cries happily. She looks at the test again and laugh. "Oh my- look at it! She flips over the test to show her phone and squeals.

the next day

"Okay, so it's the next day. Specifically laundry day as Matt likes to call it." She whispers to her phone so Matt won't hear her. He's currently in their room, sorting out their laundry. Ever since they moved in together, he's always done the laundry. Anytime Y/n tries to put a load to wash, he takes it away from her. "This is my job, you already do so much for us." Is what he always says. "Yesterday when I found out, I ran to the nearest store to buy something to tell Matt about the surprise and I found this. It's so cute." She flips her phone and shows the baby onesie that has a eeyore on it.

"My plan is to throw this into the dryer once it's finished and it can be the first thing Matt sees as he opens the dryer." She flips her phone back to her. "I'll record his reaction." Forty minutes later, the dryer dings while Matt is in the bathroom. She takes the opportunity to quickly enter the laundry room and open the dryer door and nicely places the tiny clothing on top of the warm clothes. She quickly closes the small door and runs out.

Quietly she starts recording once she hears Matt come out the bathroom. She makes sure the camera is filming from her back camera and she pans in to the floor for the time being. "Did the dryer stop?" Matt asks. "I think so." She nods. He goes to the laundry room and she quietly follow behind. He opens the dryer door and grabs the tiny item. "Baby, what's this? Did one of your bodysuits shrink? I've never seen this one be-" He looks confused at first but when he turns around and sees you filming on your phone and a blue and white stick in your other hand he gets what your hinting at.

"Oh my god! No way! Are you actually?" He asks, his eyes glossing over. "I found out yesterday. We're having a baby!" She squeals. He scoops her into his arms and lifts her up. "Holy shit! I love you, I love you, I love you!l He places her down and she stops recording putting her phone in her pocket. He grabs her chin and puts his lips on hers.

"We're going to be parents!"

[zalayni]

𓂃 💫 ੭ ᝢ SUGAR ༉

spendin' all my nights alone waiting for you to call me. you're the only one I want by my side when I fall asleep 💤

❛ pairing: earth42!miles x reader

❛ summary: after a long day there's nothing better than having your lover help you as you do your night time routine, no matter how girly it might be.

❛ warnings: the lower caps are intended. reader uses she/her pronouns.

❛ author's note: this is supposed to be longer but I lost everything and had to restart it from scratch. also this isn't proofread what so ever. I live like a warrior i'll die like a warrior 🫡🫡(I'm too lazy to read alat)

if anybody told Miles from when he was new to being prowler that he would be sitting in his room, wiping a girls makeup off specifically HIS girls makeup off he'd just tell them. “man you're buggin.”

yet here he was.

after a long day of standing around with music blasting in your ear while people laughed in the background you were finally back alone with Miles. it was silent but at the same time it was comforting. Miles was there kneeling infront of you, wiping your makeup off as you sat on the vanity chair he had bought and installed in his room along with the hello kitty mirror he saw people hyping up on tiktok.

don't get it mixed up though Miles would never use that vanity, he bought it for you. he filled up the drawers with makeup and products he'd see you use just for you. he did all of this because all he wished was for you to feel at home with him.

he went through the hard work of building and putting up the parts by himself as he was too embarrassed to ask uncle aaron or his mom for help. what would uncle aaron say if miles would randomly come in his home saying “help me build this pretty pink and white vanity I just bought.”

you always crashed at his place or miles would crash at yours. either way he always insisted on helping you with your nightly routine.

"all done Mami, now go wash up. I'll get your pajamas from the laundry." Miles attempted to get up before getting stopped by your hands pulling him down to peck his cheek. you pulled away while muttering a thank you.

Miles smirked at you while getting up.

"yeah, no problem. anything for my girl."

miles was the sweetest person to ever come into your life. who knew Brooklyn's number one killer would be such a lover boy? maybe it's because of the fact that he's always been a mamas boy growing up.

you finished up your shower, wrapping the towel around your body before a knock echoed through the bathroom. "ma, can I come in? I've got your pajamas." you quickly opened the door to see Miles standing there with your pink pajama set in his hands.

he stared at your figure watching as water droplets still slowly rolled down your body.

"Morales you're staring at me." you playfully said while side eyeing before taking the clothes out of his hands. Miles huffed and grabbed you by the waist, pulling you closer silencing your giggles with a kiss.

"whatever ma you're trippin' I wasn't even staring you're just reading into it too much. even if I was can you blame me? I bagged such a pretty girlfriend."

Miles eyed you down once again before leaning close to your ear. "maybe even future wife."

ugh what a tease. yet everytime he did this you felt butterflies in your stomach.

he chuckled before exiting the bathroom leaving you there staring at his back, stunned. you shook it off with a laugh and got dressed so you could be back in his arms.

you brushed your teeth and did your skincare that Miles would always restock on. you felt bad as they were pricey but he would always insist on buying them for you.

you hanged the towel on the rack to dry and exited the bathroom, practically speed walking to Miles room. once you opened the door you were met with Miles laying comfortably on his bed with nothing but a pair of grey sweatpants on. He had his arms up with his phone in his hands scrolling on whatever socials he was checking up on.

you closed his bedroom door before crawling in between his arms, laying your head on his chest. Miles sighed and put down his phone, wrapping his arms around you. He pecked the top of your head making you look up at him. "long day?" you asked him making miles suck his teeth.

"tch. ma you were there with me, yes the function was fun but of course my mom had to make us stay till past midnight talking about some ‘hold on we'll leave after I'm done talking.’" you laughed at him mimicking his mom's voice whole repeating what she would keep saying during the function.

mrs morales loved you so she told Miles to invite you to their family's function as his date which you gladly said yes to.

the day was long and your feet might've ached from all the standing as every seat was taken up, your stomach might've hurt from all the aunties insisting on you to eat more but at the end of day you got to see Miles smile, and it wasn't because of you. for some that was the rarest sight to witness.

after the death of his dad Miles drifted away from everyone but here he was laughing and bickering with his favourite cousins. he was actually playing his favorite sport, basketball for once and laughing whenever he'd steal the ball from his cousins.

you witnessed Miles grow as a person and slowly pick up broken pieces. it was truly heart warming.

here you laid in the dead of night, ear on Miles chest hearing his soft heartbeat with your eyes closed. you were calm yet your head was racing with thoughts. you decided to break the silence after awhile of listening to his breathing pattern and heartbeats. "hey Miles, I'm not sure if you're asleep but I have a question."

it was silent for awhile making you think Miles fell asleep before you could ask it but then he answered. "go ahead Mami, I'm listening."

"would you give the world to me?" you looked up at him only to see his half lidded eyes staring down at you. "mhmm no."

your heart dropped at his answer, lips close to quivering, but the hard beating of your heart slamming against your chest was calmed down with what you heard him say afterwards.

"hermosa, why would I do that when there's other planets too?"

﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌﹌

please do not steal, copy, translate or put my work on any other apps. thank you for reading 🫶

artwork in header made by koscribbls on instagram

[luveline]

Can I request a fic involving a reader with a skin picking disorder, please? I have one that started up around the same time as my anxiety disorder started ramping up, and now my arms are riddled with scars. I've been trying to break the habit for years now, sometimes I do good but sometimes I don't and I'm so self-conscious about it all.

thank you for requesting sweetheart!! fem, 1k

Eddie thinks there may be no better feeling than your hand in his as Eddie lays on your shoulder. You have this thing about your arms where they can get a little sore from picking, so you can’t always let him lean on them. Good thing he takes his super hot babe angel any way you’ll have him. 

“Super what?” you ask. 

“My super hot babe angel,” he says into the top of your shoulder, slouched in the dark, TV burning his eyes. 

“I missed everything you just said,” you murmur apologetically. 

Eddie forces himself to stop laying so heavily against your side and gives you some space. He’s worried he’ll elbow you as he rubs the sleep from his eyes. “I asked if you wanted to go to bed, super babe.” 

“Is that what the rock stars are calling their girlfriends?” you ask. 

“Just me.” He clambers off of the couch with a groan. His hair falls in his eyes and he’s too hot for the weather tonight. “I’m gonna brush my teeth.” 

You’d already done yours. You usually get ready for bed in one process where Eddie drags it out all night; you’re in your pyjamas with spearmint on your tongue already, while Eddie’s groggy and overdressed two hours later. 

You go separate ways for a few minutes, the bed squeaking as you drop yourself in it, while Eddie puts his hair up to wash his face and brush his teeth. He takes his shirt off when he’s done, his jeans next, kicked into a pile by the hamper and ready for tomorrow’s laundry. 

“That’s forward,” you mumble, having made yourself comfortable with his worst pillow, the blanket pulled back on his side of the bed in wait for him. 

He rushes into new pyjama pants, eager to slide into bed beside you, though the sheets are a bit much. You’re still in your long sleeve tee. 

Eddie knows what you’re doing. Most summer nights you wait for him to fall asleep before you take off your shirt, too hot to suffer it but too afraid he’ll see your arms. He has, of course, seen them before. He loves them just as much as any part of you, even if you hate them. 

And he wants to see them to know you aren’t going too far. 

“Shirt off,” he says, fingers on your hip. “Come on, super babe. Too hot for that.” 

“Eddie…”

“Take it off, sweetheart.” 

He wouldn’t talk to you like that if he didn’t know you’d say no if you really couldn’t handle it; he’d never force you to show your insecurities, even if he’s seen them and loved on them before. 

You don’t bother sitting up any more than you need to, peeling off your shirt and shucking it onto the floor, leaving you in your tank top. Lengths of your arms exposed. 

He can see the worst of it quickly. You’ve picked yourself bloody at the crook of your elbow and the scar at your wrist is irritated. Your non-dominant arm takes the brunt of it every time, but besides those two cruel places, the rest of your skin is unharmed. Scarred in places, but healed. 

“Look at that one,” he mumbles, taking your arm, his thumb close but not touching the wound. “Does that hurt?” 

“Not really.” 

“Let me get something. You need a dressing–”

“Eddie, please don’t.” 

Eddie likes smiling. He can be pretty moody, but you bring out the best in him. Even when you’re hurting, he has a smile waiting for you, locked and loaded. He shifts in bed so he can lean over you, weight braces on his elbow, his face in his hand. “What’s worrying you so much?” he asks. 

“Everything.” 

“It’s tough.” He blows a breath at your eyelashes. Your eyes shutter closed. “Babe, it’s really tough, but you don’t have to hide it from me.” 

“It’s weird.” 

“It’s not weird, it’s sad. It’s not nice that you feel so worried you start hurting yourself, but it’s not weird.” He leans down to kiss your furrowed brow, but he doesn’t quite get there, nose smushed to your hairline. “You’re perfect.” 

“M’not perfect.” 

“Yes you are,” he says, cupping your face. His hand is gentle, his kiss less so. He hopes it emphasises his point. 

“Your hair is really tickling me.” 

“I can’t go anywhere, I’m sorry. I have to stay right here,” he says, hand trailing down your chest to weave between your arm and side, and then soundly under your back. He doesn’t want a ring or bracelet to snag on your sore arm. “Give me a hug, super babe. Please.” 

You bring your arms up tentatively behind him. 

“I just wanna know when you’re upset,” he says. 

“Sorry. I don’t really think about it, I just do it.” 

“I know, but… this stuff doesn’t bother me. You don’t have to wait for me to be sleeping before you take your shirt off, you have nothing to hide from me.” 

“It’s so stupid.” 

He hates the shame in your tone. “It’s not stupid. We need to find better ways for you to feel better, that’s all.” His cheek rubs against yours. 

He can rebuke your worries all night, but he doesn’t need to. He shifts onto his side to let you hug his chest with more force, your face in his neck, the cold tip of your nose and your warm lips. “I wanna be pretty like you.” 

“You think I’m pretty?” he asks. 

You hum a yes. 

“Even though I always have at least one zit, and all those weird stretch marks on my shoulders, and my hair’s frizzy every day?” 

“None of that stuff matters,” you say, startled. 

“Exactly. None of this stuff matters.” He finds your arm to feel down to the sore scab on your wrist. “I just need you to tell me about it more often. Okay? Deal?” 

You breathe in the side of his neck. “Okay, handsome. Deal.” 

[larluce]

Arthur and Merlin travel back in time without knowing the other is from the future too AU (SERIES 2)

(Obviously this excludes "The Curse of Cornelius Sigan" that was already done HERE)

FIRST PART (SERIES 1) >> NEXT PART

In "The Once and Future Queen"

In Arthur's chambers.

Merlin: (enters, very enthusiastically, carrying Arthur's breakfast) Raise and shine! 😊

Arthur: (already awake, definitely not waiting for Merlin to arrive) You're late. You literally sleep next door. How can you still be late?

Merlin: Oh, don't act like you don't appreciate the extra hours of sleep. (puts the breakfast on the table) Your breakfast.

Arthur: (surprised) Wow, that's... a very generous breakfast.

Merlin: Only the best for the best.😊

Arthur: ... Right. (gets off the bed and sits to eat his breakfast) Have breakfast with me. You must be hungry.

Merlin: There's no need. I have mine here (takes a bread out of his pocket) That breakfast is all for you, my lord. I made sure to have your favourites, ham, cheese, even sausages-

Arthur: Did I do something?

Merlin: What? 😧

Arthur: You only ever being this good when you are mad at me.

Merlin: I'm not mad. If I was I would've woke you up very early in the morning.

Arthur: Then what is it?

Merlin: Nothing! Can't I just want to be a good servant once in a while?

Arthur: (looks at him suspiciosly) Eat with me then.

Merlin: That's very nice of you my lord, but I'm a servant. I wouldn't dare to eat at the same place of a royal.

Arthur: (panics)

Merlin: (laughs) I'm kidding! (sits infront of Arthur, takes a ham and puts it in his bread) See? I'm not mad. (takes a bite)

Arthur: (sighs in relief) Alright. (starts eating)

Merlin: (serves himself a vase of water) Oh, you know the jousting tournament is coming, right?

Arthur: I'm aware Merlin. I'm participating in it.

Merlin: Yeah, Gwen and Lancelot always go to watch you... uhmm... joust and stuff. (drinks all his water in one go and serves himself more) Lancelot especially enjoys watching you.

Arthur: Uhum. (keeps eating)

Merlin: And Gwen was wondering, just out of curiosity, of course, if you had the means to maybe... let him participate in this one?

Arthur: (puts down his food abruptly) I knew it!

Merlin: Arthur, please! 🥺 It would mean a lot to Lancelot to be able to join this tournament.

Arthur: Don't give me those eyes! 😠 You know I would let him join if I could. But I can't change the Knight's code and Lancelot is not a noble so he can't participate.

Merlin: (tentatively) But what if we could, hypothetically speaking, pass him as a nobel?

Arthur: That's identity fraud! (Thinking) What am I even surprised? He did this for me before and I bet he was the one who made Lancelot's fake seal in my timeline too.

Merlin: It would be just for this tournament, no one will find out. Please 🥺.

Arthur: No, Merlin. I'm already giving him a knight training behind my father's back. And You know we are walking on very thin ice with him. So I won't risk it.

Merlin: (thinking) Oh, but when it was about defending your pride You had no problem with it 😑... Wait, that's it! (Says) I understand. It's a shame. I was looking forward to watch Lancelot beat you.

Arthur: (offended) You think Lancelot could beat me?

Merlin: I mean, he's been doing great progress.

Arthur: That doesn't mean he can beat me. I'm still his teacher.

Merlin: You heard that old saying "Student becomes the master"?

Arthur: Lancelot wouldn't stand a chance against me!

Merlin: Well, I guess now we'll never know. (drinks his water in one go again and stands up) Enjoy the rest of your breakfast, I have chores to do. (starts leaving)

Arthur: What do mean? You still have to dress me. Merlin!

Merlin: (already gone)

Arthur: (sighs and looks Merlin's bread on the table) That idiot, he didn't even finish his breakfast. (keeps eating, then mumbles, annoyed) Lancelot beating me. As if!

Time skip. Merlin going to the laundry with Gwen.

Merlin: I can't believe you talked me into this.

Gwen: So he said yes?

Merlin: Not yet, but he's about to. In three... two... one.

Arthur: (calling from afar) MERLIN!

Merlin: (smiling) Start preparing Lancelot's armor. (leaves)

Time skip. Arthur, Merlin, Gwen and Lancelot in Gwen's house.

Lancelot: You are doing WHAT?! 😨

Arthur: (confused) Pass you as a nobel for the tournament. Didn't you ask Merlin to convince me of letting you join?

Lancelot: NO! I would never abuse of Merlin's influence like that, my lord.

Arthur: Influence?

Gwen: It was me who asked, love. (stroke Lancelot's arm) You always have this yearning in your eyes every time we go to a tournament. I wanted you to experience it at least once.

Lancelot: (holds her hands lovinly) Guinevere, you know I love you and that you managed to organize all this just to make me happy makes me love you even more, but I can't let you do this. You could get in serious trouble. (points at Merlin and Arthur) All of you could get in serious trouble. Everyone knows me here. There's no way I could pass as a nobel.

Merlin: You have nothing to worry about. Everything is perfectly planned. Arthur payed a farmer to pose as Sir William of Deira when you are not jousting. And since he is from one of the outlying villages, no one will recognise him.

Arthur: Gwen has the armor and weapons, I the resources. The only thing you'll have to worry about is to not take your helmet off.

Lancelot: I'm surprised you agreed to this, Sire.

Arthur: Well, if I didn't I was risking Merlin and Gwen passing you as a nobel either way. Besides, I figured if I really wanted you to be my knight one day, you'll need to have all the experience you could get.

Gwen: And he wanted to prove Merlin he could beat you.

Lancelot: Oh, that makes more sense. (sighs, but then smiles) Alright, I'm in. (holds Gwen's hands again) Will you cheer for me?

Gwen: You don't even have to ask (kisses his cheek)

Arthur: (turns to Merlin) Will you cheer for me?

Merlin: (snorts) Are you kidding? I can't wait for Lancelot to beat your ass. (suddenly makes a gesture of pain)

Arthur: (worried) Are you okay?

Merlin: (with labored breathing) I'm fine. I just... forgot the carpenter works nearby.

Gwen: I'll get you some water! (leaves quickly)

Arthur: (guides Merlin to a chair) Lancelot, stay with Merlin. I'll talk to the carpenter.

Merlin: (grabs Arthur's wrist) No... Arthur... Let him be. He's just... doing his job. I'm... the one who... has to get... used to this. (takes deeps breaths) Just... hold me... please.

Arthur: (bends and holds Merlin) That's it. In and out, in and out.

Merlin: (his breathing evens and calms)

Lancelot: (in relief) You're getting better at it.

Gwen: (comes back with a vase of water) Here. Take this.

Merlin: (drinks it all in one go)

Gwen: Not so fast! You could choke!

Arthur: Don't worry he always drinks... water like this. (realises, thinking with growing concern) Now that I think about it, he's been drinking a lot of water lately... and eating less.

Merlin: (smiles at Arthur) I'm better now. You can let go.

Arthur: (Doesn't let go, frowning, still lost in thought)

Merlin: Arthur?

Arthur: (snaps out of it, looks at Merlin and gives him a soft smile though it's a bit wavery) Can you stand up? (Helps Merlin stand up still holding him)

Merlin: (giggles) Seriously, I'm fine.

Arthur: (finally lets go) Good. Because we have a lot of work to do.

Time skip. At night in Merlin's chambers. Merlin wakes up, there's no noise, but he has the feeling an intruder has entered, he just knows he's not alone. He gets up slowly and walks around the room alert, ready to use his magic.

Merlin: (whispers) I know you are there. I'm not scared of you.

Myror: (comes out of a shadow, dagger in hand) So the prince's little boy toy has guts. Or should I say "Unicorn Catcher"? You've built quite a reputation.

Merlin: Such as you, "The most feared assasin in all the known lands". Uther doubled the security, which means you had help to enter. Though why are you here in my room completely baffles me.

Myror: (presses Merlin against a wall abruptly and puts the dagger at his throat) Don't play dumb with me, boy! I know from a good source that your chambers conects to the prince's.

Merlin: Oh, so you do have an informant, great.

Myror: (perplexed at Merlin's calmness and then smirks a little) I must say I'm impressed. People usually start screaming by now.

Merlin: So Arthur comes to my aid and you can kill him? (whispers even more quitely) Not a chance.

Myror: (presses the dagger more against Merlin's throat and it starts bleeding) I can make you scream in other ways (threatenly) Where. Is. The. Door?

Merlin: (who definitely hided and blocked the door with his magic) I. Won't. Tell. You.

Myror: I don't need you to scream (Shouts) PRINCE AR-

Merlin: Atæse!

Myror's dagger flies and cuts his throat, effectively killing him.

Merlin: (just looks down Myror's body until it stays still) I can't believe even the assassins know that stupid nickname. (puts his fingers on the wound on his throat and sighs) This is going to leave a scar.

Time skip. In the throne room. Uther sitting on the throne with Morgana at his side and Arthur with Merlin at his side standing infront of them.

Arthur: (very surprised) He's... dead?

Morgana: (smiles, relieved) It was a very close call. I'm glad nothing happened to you.

Uther: At first we thought he died because he fell while trying to climb the tower to your chambers, but the cut in his throat indicates the cause of death was another.

Arthur: So he was killed.

Morgana: What a fitting fate for an assassin.

Merlin: (about to laugh, but keeps it together)

Uther: Still. Odin must be made to pay for his actions. We must strike back at him.

Arthur: Surely you understand the grief he feels for the loss of his son. We should try to make peace with him. There's been enough bloodshed. (thinking) And is not the bloodshed I'm looking forward to.

Uther: Perhaps you're right. (sighs) If you don't mind, I'd like speak with you. (looks at Morgana and the Merlin) Alone.

Merlin: (hangs his head) Of course, Sire (bows and leaves)

Morgana: (stands up and bows) My lord (leaves)

Uther: Why didn't you inform me? Or call the guards?

Arthur: (confused) What?

Uther: You are not invencible, Arthur. No matter how skilled you think you are, that was a trained assassin. You could have died!

Arthur: ... You think I killed Myror?

Uther: He was found at the foot of your tower! And which are the only windows he could have been thrown from?

Arthur: Mine and... (realises, thinking) Merlin's! (says) You're right, it was very careless of me. It wasn't my chambers he entered though.

Uther: (realises) Oh... It makes sense. Your chambers were too secured to enter directly.

Arthur: And Merlin's weren't. You know why? Because you refused to give him any guards!

Uther: We talked about this. I won't waste my guards on a servant.

Arthur: He is not any servant, he is The Prince's manservant. It's obvious Myror tried to get to me through Merlin. And he won't be the last who tries.

Uther: And whose fault is that? It's not me who made his affections towards his servant very open!

Arthur: ...

Uther: (sighs) You are dismissed.

Time skip. The tournament. In Lancelot's tent.

Gwen: (gives Lancelot her favor, blushing) I thought you might... wear it for luck.

Lancelot: (smiles and takes it, blushing a little too) My lady-

Gwen: Still not a lady.

Lancelot: My Gwen. I'll wear it with honor. (kisses her)

Gwen: (kisses back)

Sir William/Farmer: (just entered) Uhm...

Merlin: (just entered too, coughs loudly)

Gwen and Lancelot: (pull away from each other, very embarrased)

Sir William/Farmer: They're nearly ready for you.

Lancelot: I'm almost ready (turns to Gwen) Would you...? (gestures the favor and his arm)

Gwen: Oh, right. (ties the favor in his arm with a smile)

Merlin: (mockingly) This was your plan all along wasn't it, Gwen? To fulfill your fantasy of having a knight in shining armor fighting for you.

Gwen: Shouldn't you be attending YOUR knight in shining armor, Merlin?

Merlin: You mean a prat in shining armor that I cleaned. I already put his armor on, I just came to wish Lancelot luck too. (to Lancelot) Not in the same way, of course.

Lancelot: Thank you, Merlin.

Gwen: I'm surprised you still have your neckerchief on.

Merlin: (blushes) He didn't manage to steal it this time.

Gwen: Why not give it to him for a change?

Merlin: ...what?

Lancelot: Remember what I told you in the woods? About making a move?

Gwen: And it's perfect! If he reacts badly you can disguise it as a joke... but if he doesn't 😏.

Merlin: (even more red) You are all crazy. (leaves)

Gwen: (sighs) Waiting for them to get together, it's almost as frustrating as waiting for you to ask my hand in marriage.

Lancelot: What?! 😳

Gwen: Nothing! 😄 (leaves)

In Arthur's tent.

Merlin: (enters) Nervous?

Arthur: Not at all.

Merlin: Really? Because you have a real opponent this time.

Arthur: If you are so sure Lancelot will win, why not make a bet?

Merlin: A bet?

Arthur: If I win, which I surely will, you'll have to do whatever I ask for a week?

Merlin: Don't I already on a daily basis? 😒

Arthur: Above the line of duty. But, if Lancelot wins you can ask anything of me for a week. Anything and I'll do it.

Merlin: (smiles mischievously) Alright. I hope you don't mind doing my chores for a week.

Arthur: (smiles back) We'll see about that.

People cheer outside.

Merlin: They are... waiting for you, my lord. (thinking about Gwen and Lancelot's words) This is stupid. This is SO stupid!

Arthur: (ready to steal Merlin's neckerchief, smirking) Well, I'm gonna need all the luck I can ge-

Merlin: (extends a hand with other neckerchief awkwardly, blushing) This... this one is better.

Arthur: ...

Merlin: (ties it quickly around Arthur's arm, avoiding his eyes at all time) There.

Arthur: ... Merlin-

Servant x: (enters) Sire, the crowd is expecting you.

Arthur: Yeah, in a minute, I was- (turns to Merlin)

Merlin: (Already gone)

Arthur: (sighs, but then smiles full of hope) I'm coming.

After a very close competition, Arthur wins the tournament. Though people will talk about "Sir William" participation and how he seemed this close to win The Prince of Camelot. Both Merlin and Gwen cheered for their knights (though Merlin will never admit it). However, Arthur didn't give Merlin back his neckerchief, which the warlock doesn't know if he should take as a good or bad sign. Maybe Arthur didn't even catch whatever he was trying to intend and Merlin thinks it's better like that.

In Arthur's tent. After the tournament.

Merlin: (finishes to put Arthur out of his armor)

Arthur: So?

Merlin: So?

Arthur: (flirtatiously) I want my reward. 😏

Merlin: ¡Oh, right! What is it going to be? Dress fools clothes for a week? Or are you going to make me wear a dress? Please, don't make me wear a dress.

Arthur: Tempting, but no. (gets closer to Merlin) I have something else in mind.

Merlin: What is it then?

Arthur: (just looks at him, still smiling)

Merlin: (giggles) What? Come on. Don't act all mysterious now-

Arthur: (kisses him)

Merlin: (Merlin exe has stopped working) ...

Arthur: (pulls away at the lack of response) Merlin?

Merlin: (blinks) Thank you (leaves running)

Arthur: (chuckles softly) Uhm... You are welcome?

In Lancelot's tent.

Gwen: You did great, even if you lost.

Lancelot: (holding her hand) With you I already feel like a winner.

Gwen: 😍

Lancelot: (hesitantly) Gwen, about... asking your ha-

Merlin: (enters, talking fast) Hi, Lancelot, can I borrow Gwen for a moment? Thank you! (grabs Gwen's wrist and pulls her)

Gwen: Wha-wait! Merlin! (And they both leave)

Lancelot: ...

Somewhere apart from everyone else.

Gwen: What is it?

Merlin: (still quite in shock) Arthur... kissed me.

Gwen: (To the Sky) FINALLY! Thanks to all the Gods! (Hugs him) I'm so happy for you!

Merlin: ...

Gwen: (pulls away, confused) You should be celebrating. Why aren't you celebrating?

Merlin: Is he echanted?

Gwen: What?

Merlin: This seems too far for a joke. He must be echanted. But... why would someone echant him to kiss me?

Gwen: You have to be kidding me! (Holds Merlin by the shoulders) Merlin, it's obvious Arthur has feelings for you! Had them for a very long time! I know it, Lancelot knows it, Leon, Gaius, all the knights and servants. Even the King knows it! (lifts her hands in the air) Everyone knows it!

Merlin: But... that's impossible.

Gwen: He just kissed you!

Merlin: I know!

Gwen: Then what makes you doubt? Was it something he said after he kissed you?

Merlin: Uh...

Gwen: He did say something, right?

Merlin: Well, he asked "Merlin?"

Gwen: And then?

Merlin: I said "thank you".

Gwen: (almost yells) You said "thank You"!? 😱

Merlin: And I ran away.

Gwen: (definitely yells now) YOU RAN AWAY?!! 😡

Merlin: Stop yelling!

Gwen: (takes deeps breaths to compose herself) Sorry, but... why?

Merlin: I don't know! He kissed me out of nowhere and my heart went thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, thump, and my mind (makes sound and gesture of explosion). I wasn't able to react at all and "thank you" was the only thing that came to my mind and then everything was too much so my first instinct was running! So I ran. And now I'm telling you so you can tell me what to do.

Gwen: Oh, you want me to tell you what to do?

Merlin: Yes!

Gwen: TALK TO HIM!

Time skip. In Arthur's chambers.

Merlin: (enters, nervous) Hi...

Arthur: (turns and smiles) There you are, gone boy. Brought my lunch already?

Merlin: You... kissed me.

Arthur: I did.

Merlin: ...Why?

Arthur: (frowns) I thought it was obvious.

Merlin: ...

Arthur: Merlin, I've been courting you for months.

Merlin: What?! When?! 😨

Arthur: When not? I gifted you a flower, new clothes, a horse. I even gave you my mother's sigil.

Merlin: But... that's impossible. You-you like girls.

Arthur: (laughs softly) Have you seen me with any girl?

Merlin: N-no. But even if you-you liked boys that way, you can't have feelings for me. That doesn't make sense. Nothing is making sense! NO! There is no way you-Or maybe it is joke, but this is too cruel. You wouldn't-Or am I dreaming? That must be it, I'm dreaming-

Arthur: (holds Merlin gently by the shoulders) Merlin. (craddles his face with a hand) Look at me.

Merlin: (looks at Arthur with watery eyes)

Arthur: You are not dreaming. This is real. My feelings for you (puts Merlin's hand on his chest) Are real. I can't tell you exactly how it started, it's... complicated. (holds his hands lovinly) But when I realised, you were the only thing that kept me going, my purpose, my reason for existing. I think it was always there, but I was so blind! (gives a watery laugh and his eyes water) I wasted so much time... But I won't waste it anymore.

Merlin: I... don't understand-

Arthur: I love you, Merlin. Gods knows why, you are such a pain in the ass sometimes, but I do. You drive me crazy and infuriate me more than anybody else has ever done, but you also make my day better with your rambling, when you laugh or just smile. I love your clumsiness, your bravery, your disrespectful, but loyal self. You are the chaos in person, so full of contradictions, but you are also the calm to my storm, the light to my dark, the half that makes me whole. There's really no words to decribe how much I love you, I could say I love you with all my heart, but it wouldn't be enough. I could say I love you with all my being, but that's still not accuarate. Just know that I rather die than live in a world where you aren't, that there is no line I wouldn't cross for you, that I love you madly, beyond all reason, beyond all the words that could exist. I love you more than I ever have loved and will love anyone. I love you, I love you, I love you.

Merlin: (merlin exe has stopped working again)

Arthur: Merlin?

Merlin: ...

Arthur: Please, say something.

Merlin: ...Thank you. (lets go of his hands and leaves)

Arthur: (stunned in place, between confused and hurt)... What?

Time skip. In Gwen's house.

Gwen: (yelling) YOU SAID THANK YOU AGAIN?! 😡

Merlin: I panicked!

Gwen: (makes a move to go to Merlin, screaming in rage)

Lancelot: (holds her by the waist)

Gwen: Let go of me! I'm gonna kill him! 😤(struggles)

Tom: (enters) Gwen, you have... (trails off at seeing the scene before him)

Morgana: (enters too) Uhm... What is going on?

Gwen: Arthur confessed his love to Merlin and HE (points at Merlin) just said "thank you" and left!

Morgana: (gets furious too) YOU LITTLE SHIT! 😡 (makes a gesture to go to Merlin too)

Tom: (holds Morgana by the waist) Wooow! What's with all the violence?

Morgana: He's been preparing how to confess to you for MONTHS! YOU ASSHOLE! 😤

Lancelot: Please, my ladys, I'm as upset as you are, but beating Merlin up is not going to solve anything. Calm down, please.

Morgana: (still struggling against Tom) Why would you say such a hurtful thing?! Were you playing with his feelings all this time?!

Merlin: No! I didn't want to hurt him, I didn't even know about his feelings until today!

Morgana: Don't you love him?

Merlin: I do!

Morgana: Then WHY in all hell's did you say "thank you" instead of "I love you too"?!

Merlin: BECAUSE I BURIED THOSE WORDS IN MY HEART FOR YEARS!

Morgana: (Stops struggling and Tom lets go of her)

Gwen: (stops struggling and Lancelot lets go of her)

Merlin: (his eyes watering) I prepared myself to never say it, because he was never supposed to love me back. Because he was going to meet a nice girl someday and fall in love with her and be happy. He was supposed to grow old with her while I just standed by and watched, always by his side. And one day in the far future, when he's on his deathbed or I in mine, I would finally tell him and we both would laugh about how silly my crush was and Arthur would joke saying that he's flattered but I'm not his type. And that would be our last memory together!

Morgana, Gwen and Lancelot: ...

Tom: Wow.. You really visualized all that? (goes to Merlin and pats his shoulder) You have a great imagination kid.

Merlin: (thinking) Is not imagination, in a way I already lived it.

Tom: Well, I have to get back to work. You can stay here all you want if you promise to be civilized, Okay?

Morgana: Of course, Tom. My apologies for my previous behaviour.

Gwen: My too, dad.

Tom: (smiles) It's forgiven. (whispers to Lancelot) Call me if you need me. (leaves)

Lancelot: Merlin, were the words "Thank you" chose randomly to replace the words "I love you" or... you actually felt thankful?

Merlin: (tears rollling down his eyes) It's a miracle he even spears a glance at me. Of course I'm thankful. Why he even loves me, I don't understand.

Gwen: I didn't know you had yourself in such low self esteem. Merlin, you are wonderful person. There's nothing not to love about you.

Merlin: Well, I doubt Arthur still loves me after this.

Morgana: You messed up. Doesn't mean you can't make it right. Go talk to him. Explain to him what you just told us.

Merlin: I can't! Not with the mouth I have, I'll probably end up just saying "thank you" again.

Gwen: What if... you don't actually say it?

Time skip. In Leon's chambers.

Arthur: (lying on Leon's bed, sad) And then he just said "Thank you". What does that even mean?

Leon: (in a chair nearby) Well, if it had been any other person. I would say you were rejected, Sire, but it's Merlin. You can't really tell with him.

Arthur: (sighs) I thought I got the signals right. He gave me his neckerchief willingly today, I thought that was a move! Giving your favor to a knight in a tournament is always a romantic move, isn't it Leon?

Leon: Of course, Sire.

Arthur: Or maybe he just got tired of me stealing his neckerchief constantly and I got it all wrong. (sinks his face in his hands)

Leon: I don't believe so, Sire.

Arthur: Then why did he say "thank you"?! (covers himself with the the covers) He loved me before! Why doesn't he love me here too?!

Leon: Wait, Merlin said he loved you before?

Arthur: No, after. But that after doesn't exist anymore.

Leon: ... Are you drunk, Sire?

Someone knocks the door.

Leon: Who is it?

Merlin: Leon, have you seen Arthur? I need to talk to him.

Leon: (looking at Arthur) Uhm...

Arthur: (composes himself as quickly as he can and gets off the bed) I'm here.

Leon: (opens the door)

Merlin: (enters hesitantly) Hey... I was looking for you.

Arthur: It seemed more that you were running from me.

Merlin: Yeah... Sorry about that.

Uncomfortable silence.

Arthur: Leon, can you leave us alone, please?

Leon: Of course, Sire. (bows and leaves, thinking) Kicked out of my own room. The things I do for these two.

Arthur: I want an answer. I real answer. If you are going to reject me, do it properly, cause if you say "thank you" again, I swear to the gods, merlin, I-

Merlin: (extends a hand with a letter)

Arthur: What is that?

Merlin: My answer. (blushes furiously) I... can't trust my tongue to not mess it up again, so... I wrote it down.

Arthur: (takes the letter in silence)

Merlin: I'll leave you to read it-

Arthur: No, Merlin you are going to stay right there until I finish reading.

Merlin: But-

Arthur: I think it's the least I deserve.

Merlin: (nods, still feeling bad) You're right. Go ahead.

Arthur: (opens the letter and reads)

"Arthur, I'm so sorry for how I reacted and that I hurt you with my words, but you kissing me so suddenly and professing your love for me so deeply, you down-struck-disarm me. I never thought someone like you would ever love someone like me. And I'm not saying this because you are the prince and I a servant. You know I don't care about titles. I'm saying this because you are the bravest, most righteous, and courageous man I have ever known. How could such a man love me? You said you can't tell when you fell in love with me. But me? I don't think there was a moment that a didn't love you. I am so hopelessly in love with you, every part of you, even when you act like a prat or a dollopehead and make me want to punch you in the face. But I resigned myself that I would never have you for so long that you corresponding my feelings, I couldn't believe it was real. I still don't believe it's real. You are promising me the sun, Arthur. How can I believe the sun is now mine? This love confession is not nearly as beautiful as yours, but I want you to know for certain that-”

Merlin: I love you (his eyes watering, but smiling).

Arthur: (looking at Merlin, wonderstruck and grinning more widely than Merlin has ever seen him) Say it again. (gets closer to Merlin)

Merlin: I said it? 😧... Oh, gods I said! 😨 I actually said it. Okay. Good.

Arthur: (gets closer) Merlin-

Merlin: Did you finish reading it? My thoughs are more organized there, I swear!

Arthur: (and closer) Merlin-

Merlin: Please, I don't want to mess it up again-

Arthur: Merlin! (holds his face in his hands, their chest so close they can touch, his grin bright as the stars) Say it again.

Merlin: (his eyes find Arthur's and he smiles) I love you. So, so much it hurts.

Arthur: Thank you.

Merlin and Arthur: (laugh)

Arthur: (kisses him)

Merlin: (kisses back)

Any rational thought, feel of insecurity or nervousness is gone at the feeling of Arthur's mouth moving on his. First tender and sweet, but then the kiss deepens and Arthur's tongue is probing against his lips. Then Merlin's arms are around Arthur's neck and his fingers in his hair, while Arthur holds him closer by the waist. This is better than he ever dare to imagine. It's overwhelming. All too much, all too good to be real. He could feel the so called butterflies in his stomach-

But suddenly, in the instant he opens his eyes, he notices there are butterflies, ACTUAL butterflies, flying around the room.

Merlin: (pulls away from Arthur abruptly, thinking in panic) Shit, shit, shit, shit!

Arthur: (confused) What's the- (notices the butterflies) Wow... Where did they-

Merlin: (shouts) THE WINDOW! (composes himself, blushing) I mean, they probably came... from the window.

Arthur: (realises it was Merlin, but decides to play along) Yeah, probably. How odd. Do butterflies normaly shine like that?

Merlin: (even more red) No, it's a... very weird species.

Arthur: (smirks) Well, where were we? (about to kiss Merlin again)

Merlin: (stops him, putting a hand on his chest) Uhm... Can we... go slow? (thinking) I can't have more butterflies appearing out of nowhere!

Arthur: (remembers why Merlin is called "The Unicorn Catcher" and facepalms himself mentally) Right, of course. Forgive me, I shouldn't have lost control like that. But I wanted this for so long-Not that I only thought about doing this especifically. I want everything with you! Wait, that sounded bad. What I meant to say is that I don't only wish to do, uhm, physical things with you. I want to court you properly, I've already been doing it. I do respect you-

Merlin: (chuckles)

Arthur: What's so funny?

Merlin: Nothing, it's good to know I'm not the only one who is a mess. (gives a long sigh) Gods, I still can't believe any of this is real!

Arthur: (smiles and holds his hands tenderly) Believe it. I'll tell you all the times I have to until you do. I love you, Merlin.

Merlin: (smiles) And I love you.

Arthur and Merlin: (loss each other again in each other's eyes and lean to kiss)

Suddenly the door opens and Morgana, Gwen, Leon and Lancelot fall to the floor like if they had been leaning on the door and lost support.

Arthur and Merlin: ...

Leon, Lancelot, Gwen and Morgana: (stand up quickly)

Arthur: Uhm...What are you doing here? 🤨

Leon: I was about to get something from my room.

Lancelot: I was looking for Leon.

Gwen: I was accompanying him.

Morgana: I was... passing by.

An uncomfortable silence.

Leon: (looks around the room) Why are there butterflies in my room?

Arthur and Merlin: (shout) THE WINDOW!

...

Tagging @aceauthorcatqueen , @fallenxjas , @smileytrinity ,@lucifertookmyshoe , @an-entity-i-think , @thecornerofbelu , @griffonskies , @odinjm , @cinnabon-sweetroll-tiramisu , @thelady-mary , @bennedict , @nightninjaboy , @st8-of-grace , @starrieisdelusional , @error-username-not-available , @dogberryrowan , @jamieweasley13 , @tansyuduri , @tercais , @robynnemrys , @evadne01 , @serasvictoria02 , @hairdryerducks , @curiously-lazy , @harriettesthings , @andrealux16 , @wacko-weirdo , @greatdonutenemy , @yougottobekittenme , @anxiousosaurus , @kinkforwings , @someweirdassnamee , @impracticalantlers , @miyriu , @hobipabo , @whitemaskcd , @bogslob , @tkmaras , @rubinaitoart

[astaroth1357]

Sick Days:

*MC is in the Croytus Hall kitchen, trying their damnedest to keep from coughing their lungs out while carefully monitoring a pot of simmering soup. They hear the footfalls of their housemate, Solomon, as he comes up behind them*

Solomon: Oh MC~! I have everything ready. Thankfully, the Devildom still has TV these days, even if the shows are out of d-... da-....

*a hankerchief flies out of his pocket and quickly covers his nose*

Solomon: ACHOO!!

*the hankerchief does its thing before flying off behind him to go put itself in the laundry, swapping places with a fresh one that finds its way back to his pocket once again*

MC: *keeps their back to him* Bless you.

*Solomon comes up and slings his arms over their shoulders, leaning against them like he's a sagging backpack. His head rests alongside theirs*

Solomon: Is it still cooking?

*he reaches out to lift the lid on the pot but MC, already knowing better, swiftly smacks his mit back down*

MC: Don't touch.

Solomon: Oh! Right, I'm sorry. Forgot the rules for a second. I'm sure it smells good... not that either of us would know.

*he contently sways their bodies from side-to-side while MC clears their throat, grumbling dryily*

MC: Y-ou know, you could cure us at any time, right...?

Solomon: So could you, yet here we are! You're just playing hookie from the brothers right now, aren't you?

*the MC tries to groan, but ends up regretting it as it stresses their already aching throat. They cover their mouth with their elbow to catch their raspy coughs before responding*

MC: U-ugh! Okay, fine... You're right. How about you stop breaking my balls and pick what we're watching...?

Solomon: I already have. Beel told me about this wonderful cooking show the other day! I think we can start with that, then maybe move onto a few movies Leviathan recommended...

Solomon: I have the TV set and heated blankets on the couch. Plenty of water, a few boxes of tissues (mostly for me), your favorite sweater, a plush Asmo bought me-

MC: ...

Solomon: -and anything else we need, I'll have my wand in reach! I figured for dinner, we can order out. It's lovely that you're making us soup, but let's not push-

MC: Sol?

Solomon: -Hm?

*MC wiggles him back until they can turn themselves around and wrap their arms around his chest. They rest their head up against the soft fabric of one of his old sleep shirts snugly*

MC: .... Thank you.

*Solomon looks taken aback by their sudden tenderness, but doesn't hesitate to wrap his arms around them further and lightly cage them to his chest*

Solomon: Of course, MC... You take care of so many people. You deserve a break.

*a comfortable silence spreads between them for a minute or so, before MC starts to feel Solomon's cheek rubbing against the top of their head like a smothering cat*

Solomon: Oh, my adorable apprentice, you're just so cute when you're sick~

MC: *snaps their eyes back open and glares at his words, but doesn't let go yet*

MC: Sooool....

Solomon: If I didn't know better, I would almost want to keep you like this...

MC: *snorts* Good luck. The brothers would kill you for it. *they drop their arms from his chest, but he doesn't let go*

MC: Sol?

Solomon: I'm sure they would try, but you wouldn't let something bad happen to your beloved teacher, would you MC?

MC: *rolls their eyes* You wouldn't need my help, anyway. Let go.

Solomon: *squeezes a little tighter* Uh-uh! That wasn't my question.

MC: Sol, I need to stir the soup.

Solomon: And I need to hear an answer.

MC: Solomon, I'm serious.

Solomon: Oh? What's this? I think I'm gonna... ahh...!

MC: Wait, what are you-?

Solomon: Ahhh...!

MC: Solomon, let go!

Solomon: AHHHH....!!

MC: OKAY OKAY, I WOULDN'T LET THEM HURT YOU! Don't you DARE sneeze in my hair!!

Solomon: AHHHH- Just kidding~

*he finally lets them go and they lightly slap his shoulder before turning back around in a huff*

MC: Get out of my kitchen!

Solomon: Then I'll meet you on the couch again?

MC: Only after the soup is done.

Solomon: Then we can cuddle?

MC: Not if you misbehave!

Solomon: What if I steal the blankets~?

MC: *rubs their pounding temples at their teacher's childish antics*

MC: Solomon, I'm serious. Get. Out.

[xhoneygirlxx]

he's not magic

eddie munson x fem!reader

summary: the time of the month has come and Eddie is the only person who can sooth you.

warnings: talks about menstrual cycles/blood. mentions of dying. tooth rotting fluff. Eddie is a cutie pie. pet names used; sweetheart, baby, honey. shitty writing/spelling errors; if you find any plz ignore it lolololololol.

a/n: i'm currently in so much pain from my period and the only thing i want is for someone to coddle me and tell me i'm going to be ok. i hope you guys enjoy this very small thing, it's not much and it's not good but maybe it'll help you feel good on those days when life is shit. love you all <3

--

You're dying, a slow, painful, and mournful death. At this point you stopped caring, stopping all the begging you've done all morning for your life to continue. If this was how you were going out than so be it, you just wished your end had come faster.

You've already bled through two pairs of panties and two pairs of shorts, now left in your trusty period panties and an oversized shirt. Your stomach was bloated to the point it was uncomfortable, your breasts were so swollen that your chest felt like it was going to concave under the weight, and your back felt as if it was going to snap in half at any moment.

It felt like you tried everything, ibuprofen, heating pad, and propping a pillow in between your legs - none of the tricks worked. Now you were left in the fetal position, arms wrapped around your middle and knees pulled to your chest.

For the past how ever many hours you've been moaning out in pain, the stabbing feeling in your uterus just too much to handle. You're sure if someone were to walk in and see you they'd think you were insane and right now you couldn't blame them.

You did look insane, hair wild and matted to your face from all the sweat you've accumulated, voice hoarse and scratchy from all the wounded animal sounds you've made, and your face screwed up in an unflattering way.

Your phone has gone unanswered all day, the only person to have texted you was Eddie. At first it was only tik toks, small comments he thought would make you giggle, and then it turned into him updating you about his day at work, and finally worried questions about if you were okay.

You felt so fucking guilty for not responding, not telling him that you were fine but you just physically couldn't move from your crouched position. This only made you angrier, the fact that your temporarily paralyzed and are restricted from doing the things you need to do.

The fridge sits empty and in need of new groceries, laundry stays piled up by the washer where they wait to be cleaned, and Eddie is waiting for your response worrying about your well being - that is if he hasn't already contacted the national guard to track your location.

Everything is so shitty, the pain, the hurting, the guilt, the frustration. You feel like you're a balloon that's been filled up too much and is waiting to burst at the seams.

You don't have to take long before the heated tears from your eyes fall down, hitting the bridge of your nose, only to land on the pillow beneath your head. It's not a violent cry, at least not yet, just frustrated tears that seem to slip away from their barricade.

You don't even notice the front door of your apartment opening or the sound of Eddie calling for your name, only focusing on the pulsating of your uterus that debilitates your body.

"Fuck, baby I've been worried about you," You don't even turn and look at him, your eyes are still harshly closed. By the sound of his voice you know he's out of breath, brown curls probably wild from the speed of his running.

"Shit, sweetheart, are you okay?" The worry in his voice hits right on the spiderweb crack, shattering you into a million little pieces.

You can't hold it back, the wailing that rips from your throat is something close to bone chilling. Tears streams from your eyes without relent, whole body shaking from the cries that rip from your body.

It doesn't take more than thirty seconds to feel the bed dip as your boyfriend crawls into bed next to you. He doesn't think twice before pulling you in, one arm wrapped around your back and the other soothing down your hair on the side of your head.

"It's okay, baby. M'here, you're okay." Eddie coos and it's like music to your ears.

The warmth from his body fills you in a way your heating pad couldn't. Even with the mucus that fills your nose you catch a whiff of his scent, smoke, pine, and outside -undoubtedly him. His calloused hand runs soothingly up and down your back, allowing your bones to relax into his touch.

Eddie doesn't have to ask, he knows you better than you know yourself, and the way your scrunched up on your bed and crying he knows that you've been battling your pain all day.

"Sweetheart, you have to breath. Can you do that for me? Take one big deep breath, s'all I want, okay?"

You nod your head against his chest, following the way his chest moves as he demonstrates for you. Between hiccupped breaths and streaming tears, you allow your lungs to fill up with as much air as you can take in, releasing it right after in one long exhale.

"Good job, baby. Did such a good job f'me." Eddie's being soft with you, a side of him he only allows you to see and no one else.

You let his praise melt over you, soaking it right up like the plants in a drought. For the first time since you woke up you feel lighter, something you only feel when Eddie's by you. The cramps that have been going nonstop have finally subsided, the presence of your boyfriend scaring them away.

"It hurt so bad, Eds. S'really bad today." Your voice is shaky, as if one wrong move and you can break out into another sob.

"I know, honey, but it's okay. I'm gonna take care of you, kay? I'm gonna make it all better."

You both know that he has no control over what your body decides to do but just the promise alone has your worries easing away. Your body relaxes into him, your knees slowly falling down to their normal position until your laying right up against him.

"On a scale from one to ten, where are you at?" You take a moment to think about it, really evaluating the squeezing of your organs.

"Was a ten but now it's like a seven."

Eddie hums, his hand still soothing up and down your back. A small pause settles over his words, like he's trying to wrack his brain for the next action he's going to make so you can feel better.

"How 'bout you get some rest, then when you get up we'll get you something to eat? Sound okay?" You nod again, too tired to form any sort of response.

Eddie acknowledges your response with a kiss to the top of your head, making you hum in content when he does. It doesn't take long for the tiredness of your body to settle over you, quiet snores coming from your nose in no time.

Even if his arms fall asleep and his back feels stiff, Eddie stays there with you, soothing you in your sleep to ensure that your pain stays at bay. When you do wake up he's right there, waiting for you with some water and more medicine before helping you into the shower.

He's not magic and he has no idea what to do when it comes to woman's health but Eddie Munson will be damned if a period makes his girl cry like that again.

---

[wheels-of-despair]

Late Pairing: Eddie Munson x You Summary: Eddie and Evil Woman survive a pregnancy scare. Contains: A road trip, Eddie and Evil Woman loving and supporting each other even though they're terrified, a collective sigh of relief. Words: 1.7k

The bed shifts, interrupting your staring contest with the wall.

"Hey," the source of most of your troubles mumbles, kissing the side of your neck. "You missed a great practice."

"I heard," you whisper. "You're loud."

Eddie chuckles, settles his dumb sweaty head on the pillow behind you, and throws an arm around your middle. Where the rest of your troubles lie.

"You okay?" he asks.

"No," you croak. You are not okay. You are nowhere close to being okay. Admitting it, even to yourself, has tears prickling at your eyes.

"Hey," he says, firmer this time, grabbing your shoulder and rolling you onto your back. "Look at me." His big brown eyes are so serious. It feels strange and unnatural, and not in an exciting way. "Tell me what's wrong."

Your mouth is dry. Your eyes are wet. Your brain is foggy. You haven't been able to focus on anything since you looked at the calendar this morning and realized something was missing.

"I'm late."

"Late for what?" he asks.

Your tears spill, and you roll back to your side and bury your face in the pillow.

"What the…" You can hear the squeaky wheels in his dumb little boy brain turning. "Fuuuuuuuuck," he breathes.

His reaction makes a sob escape from your throat.

"Okay," Eddie says quietly, wrapping an arm around you again. His chin rests on your shoulder. At least he's not burning rubber down your driveway and gunning it to 88... although going back in time sounds like a decent idea right now. "Okay. How late? Do you know for sure? Have you taken a test?"

"Yeah, let me just run down to Melvald's and let Joyce Byers help me pick one out," you deadpan, swiping angrily at your tears.

"Then we'll go to the city, where no one knows us," he says, rolling off the bed. "Get dressed, we're going on a road trip."

"Now?" you whine.

"Now."

You groan, let him pull you out of bed, and go to the bathroom. Still nothing. You reach into the laundry hamper and put on yesterday's clothes, too tired to go back to your bedroom for clean ones. Eddie's waiting for you in the hallway when you're done. He reaches out a hand, and you take it and head for the door.

"Where are you going?" Gareth asks through a mouth full of something revolting at the kitchen table. All the Corroded Coffin boys are still there. Of course they are.

"Church," you say at the same time Eddie says "your mom's house."

"You're in my mom's house, asshole," Gareth glares.

You ignore him and keep walking toward the door.

"What am I supposed to tell Mom if she comes home and asks where you are?" Gareth yells indignantly as you step through.

"Tell her we ran away and joined the circus," Eddie responds, closing the door behind him.

Eddie opens the van door for you and helps you in. Normally you'd fight him over this, but you don't have the brain power to care right now. He hops in, starts the van, and backs out of the driveway without a word. Once he's on the road, he reaches for your hand.

You take it.

Your thoughts are a swirl of chaos. You can't single one out to focus on. It's everything, every worry, all at once. You stare ahead at the road, watching the cracked country highway turn into multiple car-filled lanes when you reach the city. The big, anonymous, miles-from-home city.

Eddie whips the van into a parking lot and picks a spot front of the pharmacy. You stare through the window, wondering who's working here and how harshly you'll be judged. They must get irresponsible teenagers from the sticks in here all the time, right?

You take a deep breath and reach for the door handle, but Eddie's hand lands on your knee.

"I got it," he says, forcing a smile. "I'll be right back."

Eddie hops out of the van and disappears through the glass doors. You try to watch him through the windows, but your eyes slide out of focus. Everything becomes a blur. The rocking of the van on Eddie's re-entry snaps you out of it. He places a little paper bag in your lap.

"Do you wanna do it somewhere here, or go back home? We've got dorks at your place and Wayne at mine, but he's probably asleep."

You don't like any of those options. You shrug.

"I vote my place. It'll be quiet, at least."

You shrug again.

Eddie backs out of his parking spot, gets back on the road, and takes your hand again. You don't remember the ride back at all. Did you even have time to blink? He pulls into his driveway what feels like a minute later. He closes his door quietly and rushes around the front of the van to open yours. You slide to the ground, and he wraps you in a hug.

"It's gonna be okay," he whispers, mouth right beside your ear. You feel numb, but you force yourself to nod. For him. "C'mon."

He closes your door and walks you to the porch beside his bedroom. He lets you in quietly, glancing toward the living room to make sure Wayne's asleep. His uncle's snores are oddly comforting. This is as close as you're going to get to privacy.

"Do you want me to…?" he whispers, tilting his head toward the bathroom.

You shake your head and enter the bathroom alone, closing the door behind you. It's just you and your little paper bag. With shaking hands, you pull out a horrifying box with a horrifying price sticker… and a chocolate bar. Your favorite kind. You smile, for the first time today.

Eddie Munson is the best person you've ever met. You love him more than life itself. There is nothing you wouldn't do for him. But are you really ready to create a new life with him? Now? You're not even done with high school yet. How can you be trusted with that kind of responsibility when you can't even remember to water your plants?

Not now, existential crisis.

You open the test's box and read the instructions. It sounds like a science experiment. That's not your strongest subject. You stare at the awful little contraption and wonder if you can do this.

A pain shoots through your stomach; a signal that you should suck it up and get it over with. You take a shaky breath and unbutton your jeans. Your fingers are being extremely uncooperative. You're queasy. You're lightheaded. You get your jeans out of the way, sit on the toilet, and freeze at the sight of your underwear.

Blood.

You start to laugh. It turns into a cry.

"Hey? You okay?" Eddie asks quietly from outside. "Can I come in?"

"Yeah," you sniffle, pulling your pants back up.

Eddie steps inside the tiny bathroom and closes the door, looking from you to the horrifying science experiment on the counter.

"Do you need help? Is it complicated?"

"Don't need it," you smile, wiping the tears of relief from your eyes.

"What do you mean?"

You step forward and crush him in a hug. He seems taken aback, but wraps his arms around you anyway.

"The bloodbath hath commenced," you mumble. "I don't need the test. I do need you to grab my spare clothes from your room."

"You serious?"

"Yeah," you sigh, pulling back. His eyes are big and fearful. His bangs are stuck to his sweaty forehead. He may have been playing it cool for your sake, but he's been panicking just as much as you on the other side of that thin trailer wall.

"Be right back," he says with a kiss to your forehead.

Eddie brings you the bag containing your clothes and emergency supplies and leaves you to it. You clean up, change, and carefully pack the pregnancy test back in the box. You emerge and slip into Eddie's room, closing the door behind you.

He sits on the edge of the bed, elbows on his knees, looking frazzled. You put the drugstore bag and the candy bar on the dresser and cross the room to sit next to him on the bed.

You let out a long, slow breath together, then fall to your backs. You reach for his hand, and he grips it tight.

"That was fun, let's never do it again," you joke.

Eddie gives a half-hearted chuckle and turns his head toward you.

"You okay?" he asks.

"I… I don't know?"

You both stare up at the ceiling for a while. Your brain is still swirling.

"I would've taken care of you, y'know," Eddie says quietly.

"You did," you reply. And he did. You sat there in a panic while he drove to another town, bought a pregnancy test, and made all the decisions for you. It's what you needed. It's always like that with Eddie; you even each other out.

"I mean if…" he trails off, unable to say it.

"I know," you whisper. "But I don't think…" You huff out a breath. "I don't think I want that. At least, not for a very long time."

"Oh, thank fuck," Eddie sighs in relief. "I love you, woman. I love you so fucking much. But that… fuck, that was terrifying."

You chuckle quietly and squeeze his hand.

"I love you too," you smile. "But we have got to be more careful."

"Agreed."

"Motion to not even entertain the idea of reproducing until after we've graduated and have real jobs and own a house," you propose.

"I second the motion, and propose creating a condom stockpile in all of the usual places."

"The motion and proposal pass with all members in attendance," you say with an air of authority, "meeting adjourned, refreshments will be served as soon as one of us fetches that candy bar some idiot put on the other side of the room."

Eddie snorts.

[manyaccidents]

"All done cutie, you can go back to coloring now" said Alyssa as she finished doing the last tape on my fresh diaper.

"But it's no fair!" I whined, all too aware of how childish I sounded. Trying my best to come across more mature, and wanting to be taken seriously, I continued in a slight huff "I don't even need a babysitter. I'm a big girl and I can take care of myself". The situation I found myself in painted the opposite picture, but I was still trying desperately to hold onto the few last crumbs of dignity I had left, and even those were quickly slipping out of my grasp.

"Oh you're a big girl?" Alyssa said with a hint of a smile. "I'm so sorry sweetheart, I didn't realize. Tell you what, why don't you explain to me why you're a big girl who can take care of herself. If you are able to convince me, I'll convince your Daddy for you!"

Excitement bubbled up within me. Finally! A chance to get out of this! But almost as soon as the feeling came, it was replaced by one of unconfident apprehension. "What am I even supposed to say now?" I thought to myself, starting to panic. I had to say something, Alyssa was waiting. I couldn't waste this opportunity.

"um.." I started "well you see, um...".

I was totally blanking. I swear I had good reasons, but now that they were actually being put to the test they sounded substantially more flimsy and not thought through.

"It's alright darling, take a deep breath and begin from the top" Alyssa instructed comfortingly. This was not starting off well.. I took a shaky breath. The stakes were too high, I couldn't mess this up.

"um.. so well.. first I can.." - why was it so hard to think of something?? I stood there desperately trying to think of at least one thing I could say, aware that every second that passed was making my reward less likely. My heart was pounding and my thoughts racing. Without giving it any thought, desperate to at least say something, I blurted out the first thing that popped into my mind.

"I can eat meals by myself!"

A look of slight incredulity could be seen on Alyssa's face but she stayed quiet, waiting for me to continue.

"Um.. and I can... help with laundry! And cleaning up my room! And... I can even use the microwave and toaster by myself! I've been practicing! And... I can take care of my pets!" I finished in a rush.

Alyssa nodded her head slowly. "That's quite a list you've got there cupcake, but I just want to ask you a few questions about it okay? I just want to make sure I understand"

I swallowed hard, feeling a mixture of fear and hope in my stomach. "Okay..." I managed to squeak out.

"Great!" Alyssa smiled warmly. "Now, let's see. First off, can you tell me which meals can you eat by yourself? The ones that are already cut up in bite sized pieces?"

Her question caught me off guard, and I felt a twinge of panic. I knew I had to be careful not to say anything that would give away too much. "Um, well, s-sometimes it's c-cut up..." I stammered, trying to think of an answer that wouldn't make me sound too incompetent. "I mean, I can eat some meals by myself, like macaroni and cheese or chicken nuggets.."

Alyssa smiled at me "Thank you sweetie I think I understand now. Alright, next question; Have you ever done the laundry by yourself?"

I took a deep breath before answering. "Well, I helped Daddy put clothes in the washing machine and dryer a few times, and last time I did it all by myself!" Raising her eyebrows, Alyssa replied

"Your Daddy told me about that.. He said there were soap suds everywhere and that a certain someone used a little too much soap" I looked away, not wanting her to see how pink my face was getting. She chuckled, continuing "Well, I'm sure your Daddy was very proud of you for trying at least. Now, let's talk about cleaning your room. Do you clean it every day or just when you're told?"

I shifted uncomfortably. "Um, well... "I try to keep it clean, bu-" Alyssa nodded, seeming to accept this as my answer. "And what about taking care of your pets?"

Finally confident in one of my answers I proudly state

"I pet them and I play with them all the time!! And they go outside and I watch them to make sure they are ok!"

"It sounds like you love them very much, but do you feed them, clean their litter box, and give them fresh food and water every day?" Alyssa inquired, already knowing the answer.

I felt a pang of guilt. "Well... um... I usually just play with them... but I thought that was taking care of them isn't it..?"

Alyssa smiled sweetly "So those are the reasons you think you're a big girl? You think you'd be okay by yourself for a few hours?"

I nodded shyly, looking at my feet.

"Well, I'm not quite convinced sweetie. Can you use the stove by yourself? Or the oven? Alyssa asked, her tone gentle but firm. "And what about changing your diapers? We wouldn't want someone's wet diapee to give them a rash right?" I felt my face flush even more. "I... um... I don't really know how to d-do those things..." I admitted, my voice barely above a whisper.

Alyssa nodded, her expression sympathetic. "I know, and it's okay honey, I understand. You're still just a little girl, and there's a lot you don't know how to do yet. But that's why you have a babysitter here to help you when Daddy's not around, okay?"

I wanted to argue, but though I didn't want to admit it to myself, her words rang true. I looked down at my lap, the infantile garment stark proof of Alyssa's assessment.

Alyssa, noticing my silence, gently took my hand in hers. "I know it's hard to accept, sweetheart, but you're still just a little girl, and that's okay! Don't be in such a rush to grow up, being an adult is so boring... I know! Why don't I make us some popcorn and put on your favorite movie until your Daddy comes home, how does that sound?" Alyssa suggested animatedly, already knowing how easily my attention is diverted.

"Tangled?!" I squealed excitedly, forgetting everything temporarily. "Yeah, that sounds like fun!" I beamed up at Alyssa and ran to the living room to get ready, forgetting my skirt in my excitement.

Alyssa shook her head, smiling. "A big girl indeed.."

[gibsongirled]

Erm hii.. I'm new here but uhh I wanna request a Jschlatt fic!! Basically the reader puts on schlatts sweater because all of their clothes are dirty and schlatt comes home and sees them and gets flustered!! Erm take your time with it and whatnot :D

LAUNDRY DAY !!

description: laundry day sucks, but at least you get to raid schlatt's closet for his sweaters.

a/n: this was such a silly req, i love it !!

Laundry day was probably the bane of your existence.

Half of the clothes in your closet were empty and left you with clothes that you didn’t want to wear yet couldn’t seem to get rid of. Huh, they were right when they said that humans will pack bond with anything. That meme was silly. So you were stuck with an old band shirt and pajama shorts when laundry day rolled around. That outfit was the thing you were willing to wear.

Schlatt was out filming that pizza video in Coney Island. He had been talking about it for weeks, and it had gotten to the point where you dreamed of pizza every night after each conversation with him. You were not even shocked- it was cute seeing him all excited. You told him to bring a slice back for you. The dreary New York weather made you feel like you were supposed to be curled up in bed with a good book, but it was your turn for the chores around the house, so you powered through and fought the urge to yawn once every few minutes.

The kitchen was spotless and shiny, you could do your make up by using the sink as a mirror (don’t do that). The floors were dust free and the cats zoomed around in a panic when you vacuumed. You finally sorted through that junk drawer you’ve been meaning to go through since ages and kept mostly everything, but reorganized them so that it looked like you threw some of them out (that random screw you found will be useful one day. You just knew it).

The load of laundry was now in the washing machine, and you yawned. Suddenly finishing everything made you bored, so you decided to comb through Schlatt’s closet. His closet was a sweater utopia with each sweater hanging in their full glory. You looked over each of them until you settled on the Polizei sweater. The green material felt soft in your hands and you pulled it off the hanger, sliding it on your body. You checked yourself in the mirror, making several poses and giggling. Hell yeah, you looked cool.

You sat back down on the couch, doomscrolling through your phone and snuggled into the sweater as you waited for the laundry to be done. You heard the door unlock and lifted your head to greet him. “Hey, welcome home.” You said, letting out a yawn and placed your phone on the coffee table.

“How was filming?”

“It was good,” Schlatt replied, holding up a plastic bag up for you to see, “got you a slice just like you asked…” he trailed off, seemingly speechless all of a sudden. You raised an eyebrow at his sudden shift in tone, “you good?”

“Yeah- yeah,” Schlatt nodded, setting down the bag on the coffee table. “Is that my sweater?”

You hummed, looking down at the dark green sweater you were wearing. “Yeah, it was cold and I just thought- I can take it off if you want?” You prattled on, making the move to pull off the sweater.

“No- no,” Schlatt stopped you, looking down at you with a slight blush in his cheeks.

“You look good wearin’ my sweater.”

“You think?”

Schlatt nodded, “You look very good.”

[retrolvr4]

I’d Fix it if I Could

Darry Curtis x Female Reader

Pt 2

Summary: The ac is broken down in the Curtis house on Darry's day off and can’t be fixed until tomorrow

Warnings- slight sexual content, making out, mostly fluff, some cursing

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The hot weather of Oklahoma beat down on you and the rest of the boys at the Curtis house. With your guy’s luck, the AC had broken down. Despite having multiple fans running the house was still scorching hot. “Soda, go fix the ac or somethin’” you groaned desperately trying to unstick your shorts and tank top from your sweaty body. You laid on the floor in an attempt to cool down but it was not helping. “Y/n, I work on cars” He deadpanned back “They gotta be kinda similar, I'm dying here” you shot back “Honey, quit your arguing with Soda, I called a repair guy, he can be here tomorrow mornin’” Darry cut in, as he walked into the living room where you all were sat. “Tomorrow?” everyone collectively exclaimed, groans following “Guys” He started “and my gal” he said as he looked at you “I did what I could, we’re only stuck like this for today” “Darry since you're big and strong and super smart you should go out and fix it” you said as you sat up and looked at him with doe eyes, desperately wanting him to fix the problem now. Darry chuckled a little at your attempt to flatter him “Doll trust me if I knew how to fix it, I would’ve been out there hours ago” “Man fuck this it's so hot, I'm going to the theater or something, at least it'll be cold in there” Dally complained as he stood up “Maybe if you didn't wear jeans in 100-degree weather you'd be a little more comfortable Dal” you said to him “Shut it man, I'm not gonna be a pussy and wear short shorts like you” he shot back “Oh good, I’ll get you a mini dress then sweetcheeks” you replied then threw a pillow from the couch at him “You little shit” he said as he walked towards you, he picked you up off the floor by your arms. You screamed and laughed as he threw you onto the couch next to Darry. “Would anyone besides y/n care to join me at the theater” he asked Pony and Johnny stood up, they both uttered a version of ‘I don't got anything better to do’ as they followed Dally out the door. “Sugar, you rile him up so bad” Steve remarked with a laugh, chocolate cake adorning the corners of his mouth. “I’m aware Steve” you replied “Soda you’ve got about half an hour you should get ready so you’re not late to work, it's almost 3:30” Darry said to the boy sitting on the floor. “Shit I suppose” Soda said as he stood up to go change into his work clothes. Steve was already dressed and continued to eat the chocolate cake.

About half an hour later, you and Darry had the house to yourselves. The two of you sat on the couch, watching whatever daytime show was on. Your legs rested on Darry’s lap as he rubbed them. “Ugh Dare does anything need cleaned up or organized? I need to move around I’m so hot” “Damn right you are” He remarked, and you rolled your eyes with a laugh “Actually, the laundry needs done, and the kitchen is a mess, but I can take care of it” “Nono let me help, you do so much between work and taking care of the boys” You replied sweetly and slid closer to him so you could kiss his cheek. Darry grabbed your waist and pulled you to him, so you were now straddling his lap. He held the back of your head and pulled you into him, kissing you needily. You quickly returned the kiss with just as much desperation. You pulled away to catch your breath “baby- the laundry-” you gasped “Laundry can wait” he muttered as he worked his large hands up your shirt. He slipped his hand under your bra and began gently toying with your nipple. “Darry, I’m probably so gross and sweaty and stinky and-” you said between small whines as he kissed your neck, gently sucking on areas he knew you were especially sensitive to. “Shh beautiful” he reassured you “stop worrying, I don't care about what state you're in, I always love you and think you're the most beautiful woman I’ve ever seen.” “Darry, I love you” you said and brought his lips to yours. Kissing him sweetly, you ran your hands through his hair, tugging on the strands. Which resulted in a groan from him. Darry ran his hands gently along your sides, tracing your figure. You felt his growing erection on your thigh, resulting in your arousal also growing. Darry ran his fingers under your waistband, as you traced your fingers along his toned chest over his shirt. He continued to gently kiss down your neck and on your chest. “Honey as much as I’m enjoying this, Pony’s probably gonna be home any minute and we should start dinner soon” You reluctantly said Darry sighed and placed a final kiss on your collarbone “you're right beautiful” As if on cue you heard Pony from the porch, bidding Dally and Johnny goodbye. You gave Darry a quick kiss and smoothed his hair down, before promptly crawling off his lap and sitting next to him instead. Pony walked in as you were asking Darry if he’d rather you clean the kitchen or do the laundry, still insisting on helping him with his tasks. “Hey Pony” you and Darry both greeted, faces still red from earlier events but you could easily blame it on the heat. “Was the movie any good” You asked “Dally didn't want to pay so we snuck into a movie that had already started, it was something with Barbra Streisand. Dal was pretty pissed off” Pony replied with a shrug You laughed and Darry said “We’re gonna start dinner in about an hour, you good with spaghetti?” Pony’s eyes lit up “yeah that sounds perfect, I’ve been wantin’ spaghetti” You smiled at Pony as walked down the hall to his room. “I'll clean the kitchen and you do the laundry?” Darry proposed “Sounds good” you said and the two of you stood up to work on your tasks.

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I'll make a part two soon! I didn’t feel like writing smut rn 😔

Thanks for reading!

[reminiscingtonight]

Hoodie ;)

I've already done a blurb for this but I actually loved it so much so I thought why not do another one

Hoodie Blurb II:

It was a fool proof plan.

There's this one particular hoodie of hers that you've taken a liking to. It's one of Leah's original pieces of clothing that she got when she first signed for Arsenal all those years ago. So it's sentimental to her in a way.

So for course you wanted it for yourself.

No matter how many times Leah takes it back, not matter how deep on her side of the dresser she hides the worn-down, ratty looking thing, it somehow always ends up back in your possession.

So Leah rolls with it.

It comes to her as a late-night thought. As she's watching your peaceful form sleeping so soundly next to her Leah knows she wants you to be hers. For good.

You're off having lunch with Steph when she does it. Having just done the laundry, it's one of the rare times you've left the hoodie to Leah's care. So slipping the tiny box into the front pocket, Leah carefully folds the hoodie back up, making sure to take extra care to plop it closer to your half of the drawer when putting it away.

When she grabs a pair of socks the next day, Leah's happy to see the piece of clothing gone.

Now all she has to do is wait.

And wait.

And wait.

And wait some more.

It isn't until the third day has passed and you still haven't said anything about her engagement ring that Leah musters up the courage to say something.

"Babe, have you seen my favorite hoodie?"

"Nope." you pop the 'p,' not even glancing away from the television. But the smile playing on your lips tells Leah you know exactly where it is.

"Well I'm cold. Do you mind finding it for me?"

If anything, you seem to relax into the couch some more, propping your hands up behind your head. "No can do, sweet-cheeks."

Leah narrows her eyes at the pet name. "Muffin-buns, why not?"

At that, you look up, not able to keep a straight face at her choice of words. "'Muffin-buns'?"

"Would you prefer 'honey butter biscuit cheesecake pie'?"

It's quiet as you stare at Leah. Leah does nothing but stare right back.

The silence only lasts three seconds before you're both howling, laughing at the ridiculous pet name.

Clutching her stomach, Leah's wiping away her tears when you shove hard at her shoulder.

"'Honey butter biscuit cheesecake pie'? Baby, why?"

Leah muffles her snort into your hairline as you snuggle into her side, scoffing under your breath about how much you hate her. Here Leah only feels her love for you grow. This is the type of afternoons she wants to have for the rest of her life. Wrapped up around you, swapping jokes and laughter. Leah's heart beats for you and only you and she wants you to know it.

Before Leah can bring up her hoodie again however, you beat her to the punch.

And she instantly feels the ice settle in her veins.

"Katie was shivering after practice today so I let her borrow it. She said she'd return it tomorrow though!"

.

You've long passed out on the couch, the tiredness of today's training catching up to you. Slipping away into the guest bedroom, Leah closes the door shut before pulling out her phone.

To her relief, Katie's contact picture lights up the screen before she has a chance to press call herself.

"Katie--" Leah starts... Only to be interrupted by a loud, angered Irish accent.

"Mate! Of all of the places in the world, why would you hide your goddamn ring in your stupid little hoodie?! Caitlin nearly passed out thinking I was going to propose when I pulled it out! And then she cussed me out when I told her it wasn't mine!"

Leah cringes. "In my defense, (Y/N) was not supposed to loan you out the hoodie."

There's a slight pause on the other side of the phone. And then a sharp sigh. "Please don't tell me this was you plan for proposing to (Y/N)."

Leah bites her lip. "Okay, I won't."

"Leah!"

Send me a fic title

[velvet-paradox]

Pornstar!König preview

"Hullo?" Your tired voice asked, flinging your other hand over your eyes. There was some shuffling and ruffling sounds, someone was shouting in the background and Rhiannon by Fleetwood Mac could be faintly heard through the chaos.

"This better be fucking important."

"Y/N! Oh thank fuck, I need a favor." It was Tammy, your agent sounding frantic as she cursed at someone nearby.

"Now?"

"Yes now! The new girl must've been nervous as shit to film because she showed up fucking trashed, we can't use her." Tammy huffed into the phone. "We're losing time and money!"

"What's that got to do with me, Tam?"

"An I.O.U. I swear I'll make it up to you if you can get your ass up and ready to film. I can get you a car in ten minutes." Tammy was good people, always put you first even if her brash tone and stony glare had others hightailing it out of her office. Sometimes they were crying; men and women.

"Who's shoot is it?" You asked with a huff as you sadly came to the conclusion that you were not going back to bed at 2:45AM. It was a Wednesday night for fucks sake!

"The Colonel." Tammy's voice flinched.

"Seriously?"

"Come on please Y/N, be sweet for me ok? I'll do your laundry for a week… no a month! Dry cleaning too, you name it you got it. Plus," you could hear the click of a lighter followed by a deep inhale, no doubt another cigarette burning between her chapped but painted lips. "I'll even give you a "$300 advance."

"You do know we're not on speaking terms, right?"

Tammy snorted. "What? Since when?"

"Since Going Down in the Valley! He really gave me an earful on how I should've done better and stretched my jaw before coming to set. So I told him in not so many words that I'm not one of his little soldiers that he can boss around. He didn't like that too much."

You said with a sigh, remembering the stern look he gave down his nose, over his entire head covering. His crossed over massive arms and tilted his head with a click of his teeth. He really didn't like it when you mirrored his posture.

"We'll figure it out when you get here, yeah? For me please, Y/N? You know your my best girl and honestly you're really the only one who can thoroughly handle him." Tammy swindled her way into your veins and answer.

It was tempting. A little too tempting as you weighed your options.

Rent was due, the fridge was a little lacking, you needed gas… She practically squealed with delight as you agreed to the offer, hanging up the phone to take a quick shower and grab your to-go bag before the car arrived.

….

Once on the set, or what was today's mansion and master bedroom of choice, Tammy had rushed up to you with a make-up bag and a flash-in-the-pan hug. She thrusted the two page script to your chest. After curling your lashes and sweeping on some gloss, you slipped into the slinky dress as you went over the obscure dialogue. It was something different.

Something soft and sweet. A couples anniversary, some heavy petting on the ride home, taunts of playfulness. Intrigue. Lust.

Not the rough stuff you were used to when it came to shooting with the Colonel.

Your strappy heels clicked along the freshly polished floors, boom mics and camera men moved around you like puffs of smoke, Tammy who was indeed smoking was frustrated with the lighting.

You paused when you saw him.

König was dressed in a nice and well tailored suit, the jacket held his bulky arms tightly, the button down was checkered and stretched to the very last thread. He looked good. Even though you were giving him the silent treatment as of late, you could appreciate fine art when you saw it.

Your body thrummed when König adjusted his signature face covering hood, messing with the hem before he turned around and saw you for the first time.

You opened your mouth to say something when the bigger, much bigger man spoke.

"Oh no. No no. Nein nein nein!" The Colonel threw up his hands and headed for the master bedroom door.

"Colonel, wait." Tammy shouted, tossing her cigarette into the sink with sizzle, chasing after him and touching his forearm.

"I am not doing a scene with her again." He stated and pointed down at the feather haired agent, he did give you another look though before tearing his arm out of her grip. "Not until she apologizes."

"Well nice to see you too, sir." You snorted and leaned against the built in vanity, fluffing your hair a bit more, fixing your necklace.

"Watch it!"

Tammy put her hands up between the pair of you, the frames of her glasses slipping down the slope of her button nose. You looked up at your co-star, with a head tilt of your own.

"Come on you two, what happened to your chemistry? You guys made us all fucking rich when we shot Tits For That! Can't you put whatever the hell you've got goin' on on the back burner to make some dough?" Tammy made the money gesture with her two fingers in your face. "Who doesn't like money? Think of how much fun we had shooting Bunker Bunny 7!"

"I refuse to work with such a petulant little brat like Velveteen." He huffed, the mask billowing slightly. "You're mature enough to get railed on film but not apologize? Make sense, bitte!"

"Oh, here we go." You sighed and rolled your eyes, truly one of the only things König couldn't stomach unless he was fucking the brat or sass out of someone.

"Can't you two please be adults?"

"So I gagged a little too hard, big deal?! You have women choking on that thing twice a week but oh no, I do it once and make it sloppy and suddenly I'm the only one being scolded." You snarked, a few of the crew members made a noise and moved out of view. König scoffed and Tammy put her head in her hands, thumbs going to ease the headache you two were throwing at her.

"I did not scold you. I tried to help you and you then spat on my boots remember? Real mature."

"Too bad."

"Children! Please, we're not getting any younger and we're losing time here. Can you both please just try and get along so we can get this done and go home."

"I was at home, remember?" You made a face and then apologized to Tam, it wasn't her fault.

No taglist as of yet; lemme know! :)