#honestly i’m just covering all my bases with the tags

[vodika-vibes]

We Belong To Each Other

Summary: Boba returns from a long job, and his first visit is to you.

Pairing: ROTJ Boba Fett x F!Reader

Word Count: 1817

Warnings: Smut, Boba is possessive, but so is the reader, hints of a breeding kink sorta, Reader is a stripper

A/N: Hello! Welcome to my Thanksgiving Spite Smut story! Is there better smut out there? Probably! But this one is mine! I hope you all like it! And tagging @dreamie411 because you tagged me in something about this last night.

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The music thrums loudly through the club. You can feel the bass down to your bones even though you’re not on the stage. Your set has already been completed, so technically, you could go home for the night.

But something is encouraging you to stay.

So here you are, sitting in the dressing room with your feet propped up on your vanity, your painted toes bouncing in time with the beat of the music while you doom scroll on your comm.

You haven’t even bothered to remove your makeup or change out of the lingerie you had been dancing in earlier. This is partly due to laziness but mostly because you saw something interesting on your comm and got distracted.

The tempo of the music speeds up, and absently, you uncross and then recross your legs, your bouncing foot speeding up to keep time with the music. Honestly, the music is so loud you can’t even tell what song is playing, though the beat feels familiar.

You’ve probably danced to it before.

Just as you’re starting to consider getting up and changing into regular clothes, there’s a knock on the door. You’re not even able to call out for identification before the door swings open and a very familiar man steps into your make-up room.

If you had to describe Boba Fett, you’d use a phrase from one of your favorite trashy romance novels. He’s tall, dark, and handsome. And, for some reason, he only has eyes for you.

A grin slides across your face as you drop your comm on the vanity and stretch out luxuriously as you kick your vanity so that you’re facing him properly, “Boba Fett,”

He removes his helmet and sets it on a side table that’s covered in the make-up you didn’t use today, and his dark eyes drag down your body. “Your clothes match my armor, Princess.” He sounds smug.

You wave your hand to brush his comment aside, “Wholly unintentional, I assure you. As it happens, I look amazing in dark green.”

“You won’t get an argument from me,” Boba agrees as he steps further into your dressing room before he shuts and locks the door behind him. “And, based on how some of the men watching you dance acted, I bet they agree too.”

You tilt your head, your hair tumbling over your shoulder, “You watched me dance?”

“Why so surprised? You know I like watching you.” Boba leans over you, resting his hands on the arms of your chair, a small smirk on his handsome face. 

“Hm,” You lightly drag your bare toes up the outside plate of his thigh armor, as ever his armor is cool to the touch, “You do, but you usually like watching me when there’s not an audience.”

You watch his gaze drop to your leg, before he replies, “I wanted to see what all the fuss was about.”

Your movements pause, “And? What did you think?”

“Fishing for compliments, Princess?”

You flash him the most innocent look that you can muster, “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

He chuckles and you shiver at the sound, “I think,” Boba murmurs, his voice becomes a pleasing rumble, and you don’t bother to hide your appreciative sigh, “if I were a less confident man, I might take issue with so many men lusting over you.”

“You’re that confident, are you?” you ask as you lightly tap his chest plate with one perfectly manicured fingernail. 

The smug expression returns, “They can look, Princess, but I’m the only one allowed to touch.”

A feeling of fondness wells in your chest, and you smile at him, “Speaking of touch, Boba, are you ever going to take your armor off?”

“Isn’t that your job?”

A laugh slips from your lips as you drop your feet to the floor so you’re able to stand. Boba moves, just enough, that you’re able to stand. But he’s still pressed in your space.

Not that you mind, being close to Boba is one of your favorite things.

Swiftly, and with familiar ease, you pop the seals of his armor and set each piece on a nearby table. It’s not ideal, if he had waited for you at your house, he would have been able to store his armor on a stand, but beggars can’t be choosers. 

You start with his arms, shoulders, and chest, and then slowly move down his body so that, by the time you’re finished, you’re sitting on your knees in front of him. 

You can tell that he’s already aroused, his compression suit does little to hide his erection after all. And, if you were a betting woman, you’d bet that he’s been hard since he saw you dance.

The idea sends a thrill through you.

The idea that you have that much power of a man as strong as Boba is, frankly, incredibly arousing. 

Lazily, you trail a finger down his, still-covered, cock. “Is all this for me?”

“Would you prefer if it was for someone else?” Boba asks as he settles a hand in your hair.

“Mm, no. I’m not much for sharing.”

“Greedy.” He sounds pleased at your admission though. Which is fair, you suppose, when he makes similar comments you’re just as pleased. 

You hook your fingers around the waist of his pants and tug them down just enough that his cock bounces free. You intend to take him in your mouth, it’s been too long since you’ve been able to taste him. Far too long since he’s fisted his hands in your hair and fucked your face as though you existed for his pleasure alone.

But you only manage to lick the head of his cock, before he’s pulling you off of him and hauling you to your feet.

You stare at him, absolutely bewildered, “Since when do you not like getting head?” You demand, a pout forming on your lips.

He doesn’t answer as he effortlessly moves you over to the couch, and starts tugging your bra and panty set off. It’s only once you’re properly naked, and stretched out on the couch, that he answers you, “I have something different in mind.”

Your pout grows, and he chuckles, “Will you stop pouting at me if I promise to fuck your face before the night ends?”

“I s’pose.”

“Good girl,” He pulls away from you for long enough to pull his clothes off, and he tosses his flight suit somewhere across the room. You take the opportunity to admire him. He really is gorgeous, though he seems to have several new scars that he didn’t have last time.

You’re not able to admire him for long though, as he moves to your side, flips you on your stomach, and tugs on your hips so that you’re sitting up on your knees, but your face is still pressed into the cushion. 

This is Boba’s favorite position as it allows him all the control over your body as he desires, not to mention he can reach all of his favorite parts of your body like this.

And it doesn’t leave him feeling emotionally vulnerable like missionary or when you ride him. 

It’s fine, though. You really like this position too.

A needy whine falls from you as his fingers, rough and calloused from years of Bounty Hunting, slide against your already wet pussy and press against your clit.

“Already wet, Princess?” There’s something light in his voice even as he presses a little harder against your clit, “Did dancing get you all worked up?”

You shake your head against the couch, “Was you,” You whine, “You know that, Boba—”

His fingers move away from your clit to press inside you, and you gasp as he expertly finds that spot inside you that makes you clench around his fingers. 

But he doesn’t continue that long for either, making you release a frustrated noise, “Boba, stop teasing—”

He presses his chest against your back and you can feel his teeth against your shoulder, you feel the minor pain that comes with him biting you, but it’s quickly drowned out by the sensation of him roughly thrusting his cock deep inside you. 

Then he stops moving, either to allow you to adjust to him being inside you, or because he likes the way that you feel around him, you’re not sure. But either way, when you squirm under him, wordlessly trying to get him to move, he just grips your hips firmly.

“Did I say you could move, Princess?” 

You whine, “Can’t help it, you feel so good,” Your words are half gasped out as you try to keep yourself from squirming. You don’t do a good job, as his hand lands firmly on your ass, making you yelp.

Boba then slowly massages the bruise that you’re sure is forming from his hand, “Would you like to know my plan, Princess?”

You nod mutely.

Normally, Boba would make you verbalize your wants, but he’s apparently feeling merciful today as he just lightly rocks his hips against you. “I’m going to fuck you in here,” He starts, “And I’m going to fill your pretty pussy with my cum.”

Your body heats at his words, and he chuckles as you clench around him.

“After that,” Boba drags his hand up your spine, “I’m going to dress you back in that pretty lingerie you were wearing, and we’re going back to my ship. And then I’m going to fuck your pretty face.” His fingers brush against your cheek and then slide into your mouth as he starts a hard, but slow, pace. Almost pulling his cock out of you before thrusting back in.

Obediently, and without him asking, you suck on his fingers, flicking your tongue against them the same way you would with his cock. 

Boba groans in approval before he continues, “Then, Princess, I’m going to fuck you over and over. Until you’re stuffed with my cum and you can’t walk.” The hand still on your hip glides across your skin until it’s pressed against your lower stomach.

A whimper falls from you as you try to rock your hips back to meet his, wanting him to move faster or harder or both. The slow pace is driving you insane, which, you figure absently, is his goal.

Boba lightly bites your earlobe, “You are mine, Princess.” His voice is a low growl, “And if I have to fuck a baby into you to make sure everyone knows it, then I’m happy to do it.”

You stash his words in the back of your mind to think on later, and so you can talk to him about them later. You just hope that you’ll remember after he finishes fucking your brains out.

Not that it matters, in the end.

Boba is yours, just as much as you are his. And heaven help anyone foolish enough to stand between you.

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[smokeysweater]

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[zepskies]

A Crime of Passion

Pairing: Beau Arlen x F. Reader 

Summary: When Beau Arlen decides to “make it up to you,” he’s damn thorough.

AN: I couldn't help myself lol. I wrote this last night. Here's a quick little drabble for the Take Me Home series, set directly after A Good Man Is Hard to Find!

Based on this request from @jessicalynnann.

Word Count: 550

Tags/Warnings: 18+ only! Implied smut, fluff, and a murder (of sorts).

Catch up on the TMH-verse: ⤵️

❤️ Take Me Home Masterlist

You just…you couldn’t stop laughing.

“All right, you done?” Beau asked.

You never thought you’d see this man blush so thoroughly. It made you laugh harder, though you tried to stifle it with your hands covering your face.

He had you laid out beside him, still skin against naked skin as the cool air began to dry your dewy bodies.

You were lying against him in an odd position, considering your bed now had a deep crack in the bedframe that ran all the way down the middle. It meant your legs were bent at an angle, almost like you were laying in a recliner seat.

You just couldn’t believe it.

This man had really broken your bed.

In fact, he murdered it. Killed it dead. Though you supposed it was a crime of passion, in this case. (You held in a snort at the thought.)

There were even a couple of screws that had rolled across the tile floor.

“Again, I’m sorry, sweetheart. I promise I’ll pay for a new frame,” Beau said contritely.

The truth was, he was embarrassed beyond belief.

Another giggle escaped you, though you tried to soothe him by caressing his cheek.

“Baby, it’s okay. This thing was old. I’m surprised it survived the move all the way from Chicago, honestly,” you said. The twinkle of mischief in your eyes made his face warm further.

“But how damn lucky am I,” you added, your lips curving. “My man quite literally shatters expectations when he makes love to me.”

And despite the unexpected cracking sound that had left you wide-eyed, it had been a spectacular finish. Even now, you were still tingling between your legs from how hard you’d come on his cock. (Twice.)

You slipped your bare leg between both of his and pressed a sweet kiss to his chest.

Beau fought it, but he had to smile at your words, and your affection. He sunk a hand into your tangled hair, first brushing his thumb against your cheek.

“You sure you’re okay then?” he asked.

“I’m more than okay,” you said. He felt the shape of your smile against his skin. You pulled back to meet his eyes. “Better the bed than my back, anyway. Jesus.”

Beau let out a sigh. Another giggle bubbled over and escaped you. You rubbed his arm.

“Think of it this way,” you said. “Now we can go pick out a new bed together.”

Beau tilted his head at that, and he nodded. A smile grew across his face.

“Now there’s an idea,” he said. It was probably too soon for him to broach the topic of moving in with you, but this could be a good first step.

“Right?” you replied in excitement. But there was something else dancing in your eyes. “We’ll just have to make sure the frame’s reinforced with titanium or something, because goddamn.”

Beau couldn’t help but laugh. He dropped his forehead against your shoulder while his own shook. You held him to you and didn’t bother to try and hide your own amusement anymore.

One thing you knew for sure?

There was no way in hell you’d ever let him live this down.

And one thing he would never tell you…

Beau Arlen was damn proud of himself.

AN: 😂 Well then. That was fun, and I hope you enjoy! ❤️

Keep Reading:

Here’s a one-shot set a couple of months after this one. It’s called S.I.N.G.:

Summary: Beau wishes you’d take this self-defense lesson a little more seriously.

▶️ Next Story: S.I.N.G.

Ko-Fi Me ☕

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[locketsvault]

「 CUDDLING WITH BSD MEN PT 4/4 」

pairings: tecchou x reader ፥ jouno x reader ፥ tachihara x reader

tags: gender neutral reader, fluff, cuddling/phyiscal affection

warnings: talks of disabilities in jounos part

other parts: ada ᨒ port mafia ᨒ doa + the guild ᨒ the hunting dogs

a/n: tachiharas is short since I haven’t entirely figured him out, I hope that’s okay!

// tecchou suehiro ⌇˚.༄

⮑ He promised you to always take care of you and he means it.

⮑ He pulls you into a hug by grabbing the back of your head and leading you into his arms. Sometimes he will even tuck your face into his neck. Honestly you could melt into his arms, he’s just that comfortable and safe. Don’t think too hard on it though, we all know he’s muscular—.

⮑ He has designated cuddles based on your mood, I’m dead serious. He is very observant and came to the opinion cuddle positions are based on moods. He’s surprisingly not wrong. If you have aches he will hold you close which rubbing/massaging the area. He is the definition of attentive.

⮑ He doesn’t see the appeal of pda but he doesn’t mind it either. If you’re the type to do pda then okay, if not that’s also okay. As long as it’s not flashy pda in front of his co workers.

⮑ His cuddles never fail, he’s always comfortable no matter what. Honestly I’d like to compare him to a security blanket. I’d love to at least hug this man, at least once.

⮑ 10/10 cuddles, you always come first to him.

// jouno saigiku ⌇˚.༄

⮑ My poor baby with insane hypersensitivity. Good luck.

⮑ It’s canon that all of his senses are very heightened. I feel like too much touch could easily overwhelm him. He’s talked about being able to hear heartbeats and internal body movements. I think that being too close to someone can overwhelm him not just talking about him telling tecchou to stop breathing. If you did cuddle it cannot be in silence or he could get overwhelmed.

⮑ And I imagine touch is a similar amount of torture for him. He feels everything x10. Too much touch can be suffocating to him. I adore jouno and physical touch, I’d love to say he loves cuddles, but in all honesty as someone who has a normal amount of hyper sensitivity I genuinely think it could get too much for him.

⮑ When he can handle cuddling he’s always in control or the big spoon. He keeps the touching to a minimum usually, like holding hands. But if he notices you need more he will compromise and give it to you. Sometimes though he will give in and let you hold him instead. Though sadly it’s usually when he crashes badly.

⮑ It takes a while but he will adjust to being able to hold each other close, which is quite nice. However when he does get overwhelmed he can be a bit mean I’m sorry but it’s true.

⮑ 3/10, it’s rare and minimum or else he might lose it.

// tachihara michizo ⌇˚.༄

⮑ I don’t really see him as much of a cuddler, especially when he’s under cover.

⮑ I don’t think he dislikes cuddling or physical affection, don’t get me wrong. I just don’t think it’s his style. Unless you tell him you enjoy it and would like to do it, he doesn’t do it much. And when he does, he’s such a guy about it.

⮑ He’s always a big spoon, I don’t see him being comfortable being a little spoon. Also this is very strange to say but he can act like such a sibling when cuddling you. Except when you or he needs it, then he takes it serious and is surprisingly gentle.

⮑ He does not like pda, he doesn’t understand the appeal and just doesn’t like it. When he’s with the port mafia he’s got an image to uphold, being in a relationship or at the least being affectionate is a big no. And with how much he gets teased by the other hunting dogs I’d say he tries his best not to get caught. It doesn’t always work though.

⮑ 3/10 cuddles, when you get your cuddles lol.

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[avoxrising]

The Feral One • Ch 16

Finnick x Y/N

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As a thank you for 400 followers here’s a bonus short chapter for tonight! Enjoy :)

Content Warnings - None

The doctors asked you every question imaginable about the treatment you received in the capital; what the medicine tasted like, what it smelled like, how long did it make you sleep for. You did your best to answer their questions but not being a medical professional yourself you honestly didn’t know most of the answers.

“Can we do a brain scan?” Johanna asks. “There has to be something to explain all this!”

“Miss Mason,” the doctor states. “We do not have the technology for that but based on all of our available tests we have performed and the discussion of the treatment I think she’s fine.”

Suddenly there is a knock on your door and Plutarch enters.

“I’m sorry to interrupt but Miss Y/L/N is needed in command,” he states. The doctor allows you to leave, much to Johanna’s protests, and you walk with the older man towards command.

“Don’t stress it’s just wedding planning,” he explains as you walk the long halls of District 13. “The whole district is very excited!”

You are met with the faces of Coin, Effie, Katniss’ prep team, and Katniss herself when you enter command. The prep team seems scared of you but you give them a gentle smile and take a seat next to Katniss. You can’t help but notice the way she subtly shifts away from you.

“Well my dear I am so excited for you,” Effie chimes. You give her a quick thanks and she continues to blabber on about ideas for the wedding. She talks about everything from which flowers to decorate the tables with to how the guests should be seated.

“Oh and I almost forgot!” she chimes. “Katniss has agreed to take you to twelve to pick out a dress for your wedding! She has some of Cinna’s designs there and we could make alterations so they fit!”

“Are you sure?” you ask Katniss, surprised she agreed.

“Of course,” she responds. “We can go this afternoon if you would like.”

You return that evening to your hospital room, having picked out your dress. It’s a sage green gown that flows eloquently from your shoulders like water. It’s simple, which is exactly what you wanted. The prep team brought back some of Peeta’s suits to fit Finnick with as well.

“Hey Y/N/N,” Finnick grins as he enters your room. “What did you get up to today?”

“Not much,” you shrug. “Johanna made the doctors run a bunch of tests on me cause she thinks I’m crazy, then I sat in on a two hour long wedding planning meeting, then Katniss took me to 12 to pick out a dress.”

“Sounds busy,” Finnick sighs, sitting down on your bed next to you.

“Finn?” you ask, catching his attention. “What is it that I’m not remembering? Everyone seems to know but me.”

He turns to you with worry covering his face.

“I don’t want you to remember,” he states. “It was something very bad that happened to you. It’s for the best that you don’t remember.”

“If it happened to me then I should know!” you exclaim, frustrated that nobody would tell you.

You would get your answers, you would just have to find them elsewhere.

Repeat end quote bc I didn’t have one I liked for this chapter lolz

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[training4theapocalypse]

And they call me crazy (Adrian Chase x fem!reader)

Rating: Explicit - 18+ only

Word Count: 5.8k

Warnings: SMUT, Rough sex, Non-con elements - reader is drunk and a (very eager to fuck) hostage, Light bondage, Oral, P in V, Unprotected sex, Edging, Canon typical mentions of murder and violence

Summary: You're a new intern at Senator Goff's office. It's going great... that is until Vigilante abducts you after you've been out drinking, celebrating the end of your first week. (Based on this ask from anon.)

A/N: I'm fucking impatient as usual and I couldn't wait until Sunday to post this. I've added non-con to the warnings but honestly, reader is so desperate to fuck him she DOESN'T GIVE AF if it's morally questionable that she's a hostage.

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Chapter text:

Your gasp is stifled when a black glove covers your mouth and an arm wraps tight around your body. You stumble on the sidewalk, teetering back in your high heels into your assailant’s body but he holds you firmly upright.

“Don’t scream,” says a man’s muffled whisper in your ear.

Your whole body freezes up. God, you wish you were more sober. Why did you insist on walking home after those celebratory drinks? This is not the perfect ending to the first week of your internship that you’d envisioned. Is this why Senator Goff didn’t turn up for work today? They said he was sick.

“I’m not gonna hurt you if you keep quiet and get in the car.”

It’s a man’s voice. Not one you recognise. But you can barely hear it anyway over how loudly your heart is beating in your chest. Oh fuck, oh fuck, oh fuck, it seems to say, battering frantically against your rib cage.

“Nod if you understand me.”

You jerk your head forward - his tight grip doesn’t make the movement easy. 

God, why didn’t you listen to your Mom? She told you earlier to get a cab home and stay safe, you’d just dismissed her advice as usual because you knew best.

He removes his hand and pushes you into the open passenger door of a beat-up old Chrysler Sebring. It all happens so fast that you don’t even think to check out the license plate. 

Shit.

The man shuts the passenger door after you and hops into the driver’s seat on the other side. 

It’s him. 

You’ve seen his masked face on the news, wanted for carrying out his own brand of retributive justice on criminals across Evergreen. You heard people talking about his latest crimes at work today. Hell, you’ve even made stupid memes about having a crush on him in your girlfriend’s group chat. 

It’s Vigilante.

You were ready to beg for your life a second ago. But now all you can do is stare. At the forefront of your admittedly inebriated mind is the fact that you’ve fantasised about the masked Vigilante of Evergreen before. But in your fantasies, you’d always been someone that he’d saved from a robbery gone wrong or some other sticky situation. Not his abductee.

And this is no fantasy. He’s here - he’s real. So intimidatingly tangible and human. You can hear his breathing through his mask, see his eyes darting around your dark surroundings checking for passersby, and you can even smell the sharp, fresh scent of his cologne when he gets close to you, reaching behind you to grab a length of rope from the back seat. 

“Put your hands out.” You swallow thickly, looking at his masked face. There’s no point in arguing. “If you make any indication to anyone we pass that you’re you’re here against your will, I will kill you.”

“Listen, I don’t know what you think I’ve done but I-”

“Hey - don’t make me gag you and put you in the trunk,” he says, finishing the knot around your wrists as your stomach does a little flip. Not out of fear. Something else. He turns his keys and starts the ignition. “Oooh, seatbelt! Sorry.”

You breathe in as he reaches across you to grab your seatbelt and clip you in. Your hands sit uncomfortably on your lap as the car drives out of the dark street and onto the main road.

He pulls out his cell phone as he drives to wherever you’re going and you hear the other end of the phone ringing in the silent car.

“What is it?” You strain your ears, listening as a woman answers aggressively.

“I’ve got Goff’s assistant. I’m on my way to the video store.”

Goff’s assistant? That’s a stretch. You’re an intern. And not even Goff’s intern. You’re his assistant’s intern.

“I’m not-” you start but he cuts you off.

“Quiet!”

“What?!” says the woman on the phone.

“Sorry, Harcourt. Not you.”

“No, I mean you did what?! Vigilante, you need to run this shit by me. You can’t bring her here.”

“I did you a favour! We’re way ahead of schedule now.”

You hear the unidentified woman grumble. “We’ve got Judomaster here, dumbass. Take her someplace else.”

Goff’s funny little bodyguard. Now you know that Vigilante and the woman on the phone are responsible for Goff’s absence. Shit, what’s he going to do when he realises you know nothing?

“Where am I supposed to take her?”

“That’s what happens when you go rogue, idiot. We’ll talk about this tomorrow. She’s your problem tonight.”

You hear the line beeping as the woman hangs up.

“Fuck!” says Vigilante and he does a U-turn. “Hey, close your eyes.”

“Why?”

“I’m gonna have to take you to my place. I said close your eyes or-”

“Yeah, you’ll kill me. I got it,” you say resignedly. You close your eyes feeling the car turn left, straight for a while, right, left… you lose track. You have no idea where you are or how long it takes you to get there when finally you arrive at your destination.

You hear him get out of the car and still not daring to open your eyes, you feel the cool night air when the passenger door opens.

“Can I open my eyes?”

“Nope.”

You feel him reach over you to unclip your seatbelt and he hoists you out of the car by your upper arm. He roughly steers you across what you guess is a parking lot by the way your high heels click on the asphalt.

His vice-like grip on your arm still doesn’t relent, even when you reach the stairs.

“Not so fast - I can’t see!” And you’re still kind of drunk.

“Shh! Not here,” he whispers urgently. But his hold on you becomes more gentle as he helps you up the stairs, more slowly now. A sliver of empathy. 

The sound of keys jingle as he unlocks a door and guides you inside. You hear him locking and bolting the door behind you. Great. 

“Can I-”

“Yeah, you can open ‘em.”

You open your eyes. The small apartment is sparsely furnished, obviously decorated by a single man. No artwork on his walls, a small dining table, a clean but worn leather couch without even so much as a throw pillow.

The screech of wood on laminate makes your arm hair stand up as he pulls over a hard wooden chair into the middle of the living room.

“Sit.”

You do as you’re told. He pulls another chair over and sits down opposite you, leaning back, with his arm resting on the back of the chair. Vigilante’s intimidating form relaxes casually in front of you. 

“We can do this the easy way or the hard way,” he tells you.

“I - do what the easy way?” You shift in your seat, squeezing your thighs together. What wouldn’t you want Vigilante to do you right now? Stop it, you scold yourself. 

“You’ve got information and I need it.”

“I really don’t have any sort of information.” 

He edges his seat closer to you, close enough that you can smell his cologne again. Fuck. “Hey, I get it. I was tortured for intel a few days ago and I didn’t crack either-”

“Torture?!” You panic now. “Look, I’m not lying - I’m not Goff’s assistant! If I knew anything I’d tell you.”

His eyes narrow behind the mask. He pulls out his phone, looking through it for something. “Shit.” Vigilante looks from his phone to you. “This isn’t you.” He holds up the screen and shows you a blurry picture of your boss walking out of the office. Sure you look alike - you have the same hair colour and both wear suits to work but she’s significantly older. 

You shake your head. 

“What were you doing coming out of the senator’s office?” He accuses, as if it’s your fault he’s kidnapped you.

“I’m an intern. It’s my first week.”

“So you work there? Right?” he asks desperately.

“I just get coffee and take notes, dude.”

He tilts his head back, staring at the ceiling. “Oh man, Harcourt’s gonna freak out when I tell her I fucked up again. I can’t believe I picked up the wrong hostage.”

You sit, wrists still tied together in your lap staring at him. Now what? Maybe he’ll just drop you off outside the bar where the grabbed you.

“Look, we all make mistakes. It happens to the best of us. No harm done so-”

“Stop.” He looks up at you. “You know I can’t let you go.”

You take a deep breath and look at him silently for a few seconds. “So now what? Are you gonna kill me?”

“I-”

‘I’m a Barbie girl, in the Barbie world. Life in plastic, it’s fantastic’

Vigilante looks at his phone, apparently confused that it isn’t the source of the music. 

“It’s mine,” you sigh, embarrassed by your choice of ringtone. You try to pick your phone out of your suit pocket with tied wrists. 

“Your ringtone is Barbie Girl?” 

You nod.

He pauses, giving you an unreadable look from behind his mask before reaching into your suit pocket. “I can’t let you have this.” He declines the call. Your phone pings as a message arrives. “Someone called Melanie says ‘Your boyfriend is on the news again’,” he reads.

Fuck. Your best friend Melanie knows all about your stupid crush on the man sitting in front of you right now.

“Hey- don’t read my messages!”

“I need to know if your boyfriend is gonna come looking for you.”

“I don’t have a boyfriend, I swear. She’s just making a stupid joke.” 

Your phone pings again. “She’s sent you a picture - what’s your passcode?”

“I said don’t read my messages. I’m not telling you my passcode.”

Vigilante sighs and turns your phone around to face you and your Face ID unlocks it. He freezes when he opens the image.

Oh, god.

He turns the phone back towards you again and you groan. Melanie has taken a picture of the news on her TV. Vigilante is on the screen. Shit. 

“I told you, it was just a stupid joke,” you mumble, feeling your face turning scarlet. 

“I didn’t realise you were a fan,” he says, and you can tell from the tone of his voice that he has a stupid grin under his mask. 

“Well, I’m definitely not a fan right now.” You hold up your wrists. 

“She can see you’ve opened it. What should I say back?”

“Hmm... say LOL…” He starts typing. “Call the police. I’m being held hostage.”

He deletes what he just typed and gives you a stern look. “Fine, I’ll just go through your messages and see what you said before.”

“No, wait! I was kidding!” You try to snatch the phone from his hands but his reflexes are too quick for your tied hands. He doesn’t have to scroll very far back through your messages to find what he’s looking for.

Vigilante laughs and starts reading aloud. “OMG, he is so fine… I’m just gonna say that again.” He sends the message and you hear the notification of Melanie responding almost immediately. He reads it aloud. “She says ‘Knew you’d appreciate it - wink emoji’.”

“Can you just kill me already?” you ask sarcastically.

He puts your phone in his pocket. “I’m not gonna kill you.”

“So what am I doing here then?”

“Waiting. For now.” You stare at each other for a few seconds. It’s hard not to feel like you’re in immediate danger. “Do you want a beer?”

Perhaps your life isn’t in danger.

You blink at him incredulously. He walks over to the refrigerator and returns with two beers. He opens yours and hands it to you.

“Can you untie me so I can drink it?” You ask, testing the waters.

“Are you gonna try and attack me and escape?”

You’ve never been in a fight in your entire life. There’s no way you’d be able to win in a physical altercation with him, not with his reputation for massacring criminal gangs.

“No.”

Vigilante looks you over, and you stare up at him, waiting for his assessment. “I could take you, anyway,” he says casually and puts down his beer on the coffee table so he can untie your wrists.

You feel yourself blushing again at his words. Vigilante could take you. He means in a fight. But your mind immediately thinks of him taking you in another way.

When he unties you, you rub your wrists, feeling the sweet relief of having them free again. Vigilante kicks back on the couch and gestures to the seat next to him. You move over and perch uncertainly on the cool leather. He lifts the bottle of beer, and then realising he’d need to remove his mask to drink it, puts it back down.

“You can take it off if you want,” you suggest. 

“And let you see my face? No way. I have a secret identity.”

“Well, I bet you’re handsome under there.” 

What are you doing? 

The sensible voice at the back of your mind supposes that flirting with him might convince him to free you. Another slightly louder, drunker voice in your head suggests that flirting with him might convince him to fuck you. 

He looks away, flustered. “I dunno about that...” 

“That’s why you wear that mask, right? You’re probably so good-looking you’d be easy to spot in a line-up.”

He lifts the edge of his mask - you think for a second he’s about to reveal who he is but instead, he takes a long drink of beer. You watch his sharp jaw and exposed neck as he swallows and get a brief glance at his wet lips before he pulls the fabric back down over his face again.

“That mask doesn’t do you any favours, hiding a jawline like that.”

“Stop it, okay. I know what you’re doing.” You raise your eyebrows. “You think because you’re pretty, you can seduce me into letting you go. It’s not gonna work.”

Pretty. 

You try not to smile, to keep your expression blank. You wish you could text Melanie - she’d lose her shit right now. But you’ve laid it on a bit too thick. Even though it is true - he does have a ridiculously nice lower half of his face.

“I’m just passing the time. Believe it or not, I’ve never been abducted before.” You shrug. “So what’s the plan? Stay here until your boss on the phone tells you to kill me in the morning?”

“She’s not my boss.”

“Sounds like she is.”

“I work alone. Mostly. Or with Peacemaker.”

“So let me go then. I won’t tell a soul. I promise.”

“It’s not that simple. I can’t just release a hostage.”

You think. Hard. “What if I could get you the information you need? Then I’m an accomplice. Not a hostage.”

“I thought you just got the coffee?”

“I know where my boss keeps her laptop. And her password.”

“What kind of boss tells a brand new intern her password?”

You purse your lips, wondering how much you can safely reveal to him. “She trusts me.” 

“The way you want me to trust you?”

“It’s different… I just don’t want her to get kidnapped too.”

He tilts his head. “That could work.” He hesitates. “But I’ll need to double-check with Harcourt in the morning.” He spins his bottle of beer in his hands.

“I’ll give you the laptop’s location and password if you let me see your face.”

“Uh, no. You’re giving me the location and password in exchange for letting you go.”

“This is a hostage negotiation, right?” You give him a coy smile. “Let the hostage do some negotiating.”

“No way.” He lifts the bottom of his mask up again to take another drink.

“What if I suck your dick, will you show me your face?”

Vigilante chokes on his beer.

“Jeez! I’ve already told you that you can stop coming onto me. I’ve agreed to ask Harcourt to let you go.”

“I know. I’m just shooting my shot,” you smile, resting the beer bottle on your bottom lip. “Can’t blame a girl for trying.”

“Yeah, right.” He says though you can’t help but notice the way his visor-covered eyes linger on your lips.

“Dude, you saw my messages. I’ve always wanted to bump i​​nto Vigilante. Under different circumstances, obviously.”

This intrigues him. He turns in his seat, resting on the arm of the couch to face you. “Uh, what kind of circumstances?”

“Well, if you really want to know - they’re in my texts with Melanie.”

He looks at your phone again, opens your messages and starts scrolling up. His eyes widen as he pauses, reading. “Damn…”

“Which one are you reading?”

“There’s more than one?!” His voice is higher pitched this time and you grin. “Uh… ‘I wish we’d bumped into Vigilante when those guys were harassing us leaving the club last night. He would have kicked their asses and I would have-’... Holy shit.”

He adjusts himself in his seat and you can tell he’s hard just from reading your text exchange. You tilt your beer towards him encouragingly. “You can say it.”

“...‘I would have sucked the fucking soul from his body.’ Girls say this kind of shit to each other?”

You sip your drink and say nothing.

Vigilante looks at you like you’re a piece of cake he really, really shouldn’t be thinking about eating. “It would be morally wrong for me to sleep with a hostage.” He looks into your eyes.

You edge closer to him on the couch. “Accomplice, remember? I’m not a hostage if I work with you, right?”

“Listen, you are so hot. And if I met you in real life… fuck. It would be a different story.”

“This is real life.”

“You know what I mean.”

You get on your knees and crawl over to him between his legs. He shrinks back into the corner of the couch cushions. “C’mon. I won’t tell your boss.”

He swallows nervously. “You’re making it really hard for me to say no right now.”

You run your fingers over his belt. “Say you don’t want me to and I’ll stop.” Vigilante groans. You crawl forward again and press your forehead against his masked one, looking into his visor. “Tell me you don’t want me to suck your dick,” you whisper.

“Fuck…” He breathes. “And they call me crazy.”

“Maybe you should be more careful who you let in your car.” 

His gloved hand grabs your wrist and for a second you think he’s going to make you stop but instead, he guides your hand onto the bulge through the fabric of his pants. Vigilante leans his head back, exposing a tiny glimpse of his neck between his mask and his suit. Your tongue finds the skin there, sliding across it and you feel him shiver underneath you.

It’s like he’s at your mercy now as you slowly, agonisingly slowly, undo his belt revealing the v-shape of his lower abdominal muscles covered in a smattering of brown hair. You slide your body down between his legs and kiss the trail of hair below his belly button while your hands work, unzipping his pants and pulling his boxers down.

Vigilante’s cock slaps his stomach when you release it from his boxers. Shit, you have a lot to work with. You’re already wet between your legs just from your conversation but the sight of him sprawled out in front of you - his entire body concealed with the exception of his hard cock - sends blood rushing to your pussy.

You lick your lips and the moment your tongue slides across his head, you feel his whole body tremble. 

“Holy shit,” Vigilante whispers raggedly from behind his mask. He lifts his head to watch as his length disappears into your mouth, and you look up at him with wide eyes and hollow cheeks, sucking and running your tongue along the underside of his cock. 

He grunts as you pull back to run your tongue slowly around his head again. His reaction makes your pussy ache with longing, thinking about how he’d sound with his mask off, moaning like that in your ear.

“Fuck, that’s it. Thaat’s it,” he says through gritted teeth as you find a rhythm, bobbing your head up and down. He threads his gloved hands through your hair - you think he’s going to start fucking your throat but you’re surprised when he doesn’t apply any force, letting you maintain your pace. Vigilante watches you on all fours, your ass in the air behind you as your mouth makes the wettest, sloppiest sucking sounds he’s ever heard.

Then he sees it. A glimpse of your hand under your tailored work skirt, confirming to him again that this isn’t just a ploy for early release. You’re really fucking turned on by being here, sucking his cock.

“Wait…” he whines, tugging gently at the base of your scalp. You pull back, replacing your mouth with your other hand so you can look at him. “Can I fuck you?”

You pull away and bite your lip, still pumping your hand up and down the length of his cock.

“You said you’d show me your face.” Time for your one last bargaining chip.

“I…” He hesitates, propping himself up on his elbows. “I can’t,” he pleads.

“You’ll have to cum here on your stomach then,” you grin, your wet fist picking up pace as he tenses his thighs and tries to stop his hips from jerking up into you. “If you show me your face I’ll let you cum inside me.”

“You’ve gotta be kidding me,” he groans. You stop jerking him off and watch him as he pulls his mask off, tossing it aside on the coffee table. He takes a pair of glasses out of his pocket and puts them on.

You stare at him in shock. You were mostly just teasing him earlier- you hadn’t actually expected him to be this good-looking. Sure, you knew from him drinking his beer earlier that he had a nice jawline. But even in your fantasies, he was faceless - he never had gorgeous green eyes and tousled curly hair.

“You’re hot?” You blurt out before you can stop yourself. “What the fuck!?”

He smiles. And you can see it this time. It’s beautiful. He has dimples.

The intimidation you felt before when you first saw the masked killer in front of you is nothing compared to how you feel now. You practically melt, turning into putty. Feeling lightheaded you realise you’ve been holding your breath and begin making a conscious effort to breathe again. Seconds ago you were convinced he was at your mercy but now…

“Do whatever you want to me,” you say abruptly. Your underwear is flooded thinking that this man, this ridiculously beautiful killer wants to fuck you.

“Oh… I’m gonna.” He raises his eyebrows and lunges forward, pinning you to the couch and kissing your neck. His rough exterior armour digs into your chest. Your hands wander along his shoulders, trying to find the mechanism to unclip it. He feels your movements and pushes himself off of you so he can undo them himself.

You lie back, watching him remove his suit, revealing a host of white scars and purplish-yellow welts across his toned chest and abdomen. You undo the top two buttons of your blouse. 

“Nuh-uh,” he says, tossing his under armour onto the floor. You let out a yelp of surprise when he grabs the opening of your shirt and rips it open, sending buttons scattering across his floor. He pushes your bra up, not bothering to take it off to suck on your tits. 

You run your fingers through his curly hair, feeling him sloppily run his tongue over your nipple. His teeth clamp down on your breast - hard - and you squeal and yank his hair.

“Ow! Not so rough!” 

He just gives you a mischievous smirk and you release your grip when he sucks the spot gently, in a sort of silent apology. It’s definitely going to leave a bruise tomorrow - a secret souvenir of your night with the masked man from the news all your friends know you have a crush on.

But Christ, what have you let yourself in for?

Vigilante moves down your body, kissing your stomach and pulling off your skirt and underwear in a single movement, throwing them haphazardly on the floor. You gasp when his mouth returns to your body and a soft, wet heat envelopes your pussy. He drags his tongue slowly, carefully along your slit.

“Oh fuck…” you whine, arching your back. “Vigilante, I- wait, fuck, what do I call you?”

“Vigilante,” he says between achingly slow licks. Every nerve ending seems to light up, sending blissful signals to your brain.

“No, I - I mean what’s your name?”

“Vigilante.” 

God damn.

You look down and lock eyes with him, his pupils blown so wide his green eyes almost look black as he stares up at you, swirling his tongue in wide circles against your swollen clit. The entire lower half of your body tightens up and the walls of your pussy clench, desperate for something to squeeze around. His fingers, his cock - anything. 

You reach down to find his large, gloved hand and tug at the fabric, trying to pull it off him. 

He pulls his mouth back and removes his glove with his teeth.

“Is this what you want, baby?” He asks, running a single finger through your slick, wet folds and over your clit.

You nod.

“Beg for it.”

“Please, Vigilante.” 

He sinks two fingers deep in your cunt. 

“Is this what you fantasise about?” His questioning makes you tighten around his fingers as he draws them in and out of you. Your breathing quickens in time with his fingers pressing against that sweet spot deep inside your pelvis.

He stops abruptly and the whine that escapes you is pathetic.

“Answer me.”

“Y-yes,” you moan. “Every night.” You wriggle, trying to fuck yourself on his stationary fingers.

“Finger fucking yourself like this?” He curls his fingers up into you again.

“Mhmm.”

“Use your words.”

“Yes, fuck, just like… like this.” You bring your hand to your clit and start rubbing yourself in an obscene demonstration for him as he watches from his kneeling position, one hand between your thighs.

You’re close now, you can feel your orgasm burning up inside you as your cunt starts pulsing more consistently around his digits and your breathing gets heavier. Just as your release is about to crash over you, he withdraws his hand and grabs your wrist, moving your hand away from your clit.

“Wha-?” You pant dazedly. “I was just about to-”

“I know,” he smirks. “Not yet.”

Fuck. He’s fucking edging you.

His lips meet yours for the first time and you moan softly into his mouth. His tongue rolls against yours and you can still taste your sweet and salty juices on him.

Then, without warning, he flips you over and you gasp wordlessly face down on the leather couch in stunned silence. He pulls your hips back and up towards him.

“Fuck, Vigilante,” you choke, lifting your head up and arching your back, your brain working hard to regain awareness of its surroundings. 

The weight of his body presses down on top of you as he leans down to whisper in your ear.

“I’m gonna fuck you so hard, you’re gonna forget my face in a line-up.”

Fuck.

He takes his cock and drags it over your soaking wet entrance, flushed and swollen for him and the broken sob that escapes you is desperate.

“Please,” you beg again. “Just let me cum.”

Vigilante sinks into you with a forceful jerk of his hips and your pussy seizes up tight around him as your face is forced onto the cold leather again. You try and push yourself up onto all fours.

“Nuh-uh, I like seeing you like this,” he says with another forceful thrust, knocking you off balance. “Hands behind your back.” You huff and do what he says, his still-gloved hand pinning your wrists behind you. “I shoulda just kept you tied up, huh?”

You can’t answer, you can’t move, you can’t do anything except just take him. Sparks of electricity reignite inside you, the deepest you’ve ever felt it as he pounds into you, hitting just that right spot again. You turn your head to look at him over your shoulder and when you see Vigilante biting his lip in concentration your walls start pulsing and squeezing around his cock.

“Not… yet.” He grunts. “Not ‘til I say.”

He pushes down on your wrists and it feels like all the air is being knocked from your lungs with every roll of his hips. 

“Fuck, you’re such a… pretty… little… hostage,” he groans through gritted teeth, each thrust punctuated by his praise. 

“Yes…” you whine because it’s all you can manage to say. It’s all you can think. That one singular confirmation repeating over and over again in your head - it’s all you want to be for him. Fuck, you’d happily spend the rest of your life locked in his apartment, letting him use you like this every time he came home after a night of murdering criminals.

Your eyes roll back in your head, fireworks rocketing and exploding into a million bright pieces. If there’s a heaven, it would look like this - a beaten-up leather couch in a shitty apartment in downtown Evergreen.

His other hand that’s free of his glove and not pinning you down reaches round and starts working your clit with rough, calloused fingertips. You squeeze your eyes shut, not realising they’ve been watering. Real tears leak from the corners, leaving your face a wet mess on the leather seat. You choke out a sob, not sure how much longer you can fight against your orgasm.

“Shh, shhh… it’s okay, baby. You can cum. Let it all out for me.”

And you do.

Everything goes dark and you’re lost in the pleasure that takes over your body, your climax wiping your mind blank of all thoughts except Vigilante. Your pussy clamps down hard like a vice around his cock as you squirm on his fingers. It’s only when you feel him shudder and collapse on top of you that you realise he’s come undone too.

You both lie there for a second, feeling the warmth of your combined mess leaking out and the sound of him panting, exhausted.

“Vigilante…” you say in a strained voice, breaking the silence.

“Yeah?” he exhales and takes another gulp of air.

“You’re crushing me.”

“Oh.” He hoists himself off of you. “Let me get you a towel.”

With difficulty, you sit back upright to wipe your eyes and fix your hair. Vigilante returns with a towel and you sit on it, grateful for the barrier between you and the wet, sticky couch cushion.

He throws himself back down beside you. “Whoo, I’m beat!” he says cheerfully. “What do you wanna do now?”

You look at him uncertainly and glance at your watch. “It’s one in the morning.”

“Right, cool. Do you wanna sleep on the couch or-”

‘I’m a Barbie girl, in the Barbie world. Life in plastic, it’s fantastic’

Who’s phoning you this late? 

He picks up both of your phones from the coffee table. “It’s mine,” he says and accepts the call. “Hello?”

Wait - his ringtone is Barbie Girl too?

“It’s me,” says the same voice of the woman who called him earlier. “Have you dealt with the hostage yet?”

Vigilante looks at you and hesitates. He swallows. “Yeah. It’s done.”

“So she accepted the bribe? You’ve got the laptop?”

His eyes widen. “The bribe? Oh! Yeah, sure! The bribe...”

“Vij, you didn’t kill her, did you?”

“What?” He lets out a maniacal laugh. “You’re crazy, Harcourt, of course I didn’t kill her. What’s the, uh, budget again?” He winks at you and makes an ‘ok’ sign with his thumb and forefinger. He’s insane, you think.

“I dunno, like five grand?”

“Phew! Then yes, it is all dealt with. Done and dusted. I will get that laptop.”

“You don’t have the laptop yet!? Vigilante, you need to get the laptop before you hand over the money, idiot.”

“Copy that,” he grins.

“Vigilante, what the f-”

He hangs up, cutting her off and tosses his phone aside.

“Good news. I can let you go once you give me the laptop.”

“And the five grand?” You raise your eyebrows.

“Wait, you heard that?!”

“Uh, yeah?”

“Well not until you give me the laptop.”

“I can get it tonight if you need it? We just need to swing by my boss’s house before you drop me off.”

He frowns. “Oh. Right. Yeah, of course. I need to… need to take you home.”

You tilt your head to one side and look at him fondly. You fix his messy curls and he closes his eyes at your touch. “Or… I could stay here tonight? Pick up the laptop tomorrow morning once you’ve fixed me some breakfast?”

He perks up. “I could do that! …You’re one hundred per cent sure you can get it though, right?”

You sigh and extend your hand. “Give me my phone.” He does and watches you go through your contacts.

The line rings and a familiar but slightly croaky voice answers.

“Honey, it’s one in the morning. Is everything alright? Did you get home okay?”

“Hey Mom, I’m fine. Listen, I think I forgot to send an email before I left the office and I can’t sleep worrying about it. Can I pick up your laptop first thing tomorrow?”

She yawns. “Sure thing. Don’t get stressed about it. Just go get some sleep.”

“Thanks, boss. I love you.”

“Goodnight sweetie. I love you too.”

You grin as Vigilante gapes at you.

“Goff’s assistant… she’s your-?”

“Yup. Now c’mon, show me where your bedroom is.” You stand up and reach your hands out, waiting for him to guide you. You step on one of your shirt buttons as he leads you towards the hallway. “You owe me a new shirt, by the way.”

“I just made you five grand. Use that to buy a new shirt,” he says, opening the bedroom door.

“Hey, what happened to the hostage negotiation? These are the terms of my release.”

“Oh, you’re not going anywhere,” he smirks, shutting the door behind you.

[aaronymous999]

Y’know, I’m appreciating the abundance of Spider-Sona tag games recently- so I’m gonna be making my own here! Only 10 questions because I don’t want to go too wild with this one- or else we’d be here all day!

Spider-Sona 10 Questions!

What artstyle is your Spider-Sona’s world? ( For example, Gwen’s world is watercolor, Hobie’s world is inspired by punk art and punk album covers, etc. be creative! )

Do any characters that appear in the 616 or 1610 universes appear in your Spider-Sona’s world? If so, who and how are their roles different? ( For example, if Hobie Brown is in your universe, is he still the Prowler? Is Peter Parker in your universe? )

Is there a specific species of spider your Spider-Sona was bitten by, or was based off of? ( Can’t think of any specific canon examples here- but I’ve seen a lot of Spider-Sonas based off wolf spiders for example! )

What city and what time period does your Spider-Sona live in?

Is your Spider-Sona in the Spider Society? Were they ever asked to join but declined? Were they not scouted at all? Did they join and then quit? Tell me all about it!

Does your Spider-Sona have organic webbing, or do they use web-shooters? Mix of both? And is their webbing typical spider webbing, or does it have a style to it? ( For example, Miguel’s webbing being red and presumably digital. )

Very important question here- do they have any pets? And if so, do they ever take them out on their crime fighting missions?

Are they the only Spider-Person in their universe? ( For example, Miles and Peter co-existing in the Insomniac Games )

Are there things that exist in their universe but don’t in others? ( For example, Comic Con existing in Miles-42’s universe but not in 1610 Miles’s! Or certain Marvel superheroes existing in their universe but not others. )

And lastly ( For now will probably make a few more of these… honestly I could make one daily but I don’t wanna bother people lol ) what does your Spider-Sona think about killing criminals… and their general approach to crime.

Okay and that’s a wrap for this one! Let me know if you want more of these and how frequently you’d like them! If you aren’t tagged, you can still absolutely do this by the way, just gonna tag a few mutuals and people I follow who I know have Spider-Sona’s! Please let me know if you would not like to be tagged in the future- no hard feelings I’m just autistic and need things to be spelled out bluntly for me!

@spidey-bie @the-cat-and-the-birdie @brown-spider @autisticarach

( You know actually I don’t follow a ton of Spider-Sona blogs so if you come across this post and would LIKE to be tagged in future tag games please let me know in the reblogs or the replies! )

[hairstevington]

Stranger Therapy

Eddie Munson x Steve Harrington

Summary: Based on this text post, Steve and Eddie match on Tinder and decide to go to couple's counseling on a first date to see how long it takes the therapist (Murray) to figure them out. Link to Ao3

Word Count: 3K, check out part 2 part 3 part 4 and epilogue!

Warnings: Nothing too serious, Steve/Eddie went to high school together but don't know each other, modern day AU, aged up, brief Robin cameo, Matchmaker Murray, and my fav tag of all - gay scheming!

A/N: I'm a counselor in training currently but I don't specialize in couple's counseling so this may or may not be accurate? Idk man it's just fun and silly I love our stupid boys sm. Original post by @hxneyfarms

It’s a match!

“Robin, it worked!” Steve shouted from the couch. She ran from the kitchen and joined him, peering over to stare at his screen.

“I told you it would! It’s funny!” she insisted. Steve rolled his eyes and anxiously pulled up the profile of his new match. 

“Oh, shit,” Steve said. “I remember swiping right on this guy. Didn’t think I had a shot.” He looked through the pictures. They were all candids, slightly blurry, or shots of him with his friends, but due to his distinguished look it was easy to pick him out even in a crowd. 

“Show me his bio,” Robin ordered. Steve closed out the pictures and scrolled until the bio was in full view.

Eddie, 25. Shit at bios.

“Well that’s kind of boring,” Steve said. 

“Yeah. You think he’s a bot?” Robin asked.

 “Or a catfish, maybe,” Steve mused. “Either way, I still think I should take your joke down. I don’t talk like that in real life, and people might get confused.”

Robin had convinced him earlier to change his bio and replace it with - let’s go to couple’s counseling and see how long it takes the therapist to realize we don’t know each other. Steve had been a little tipsy when he agreed, and he assumed nothing would come of it. But then, Eddie matched with him. 

“You’re thinking way too hard about this, Dingus,” Robin replied. “People write weird shit in their Tinder bios all the time.” 

“Eddie didn’t,” Steve countered. 

“Yeah, but look at him,” Robin responded. “He’s distinctive. It’s attention-grabbing in itself.”

“And I’m not?” Steve asked. Robin chuckled.

“You’re the kind of pretty where if you don’t have something witty in the bio, people will think you’re just some ignorant surface-level airhead who’s never worked a day in his life, and that’s not cute.”

“Okay, ouch,” Steve said. 

“It’s a compliment!” she insisted. “Like, you need to show that you’re witty and funny and able to poke fun at yourself, otherwise you’re going to attract the wrong kind of people.”

“And this guy’s the right kind, huh?” Steve opened one of the pictures back up - one where Eddie was passed out on the couch with a beer still in his hand. As they looked at the screen, a notification popped up. Eddie sent you a message.

“Let’s find out,” Robin said. 

-

Eddie: If your bio is serious, I’m in

Steve: Wait, really?

Eddie: Yeah xD sounds fun

Eddie: You got a therapist in mind?

Steve: Honestly didn’t think I’d get this far

Eddie: Boo. 

Eddie: You’re lucky I know just the guy

Steve: Okay…

Steve: So how do we do this?

Eddie: Dude, it was YOUR idea

Steve: Ok but I’ve never done it before!

Eddie: Steve! I’m your first? <3

Steve: Yeah, yeah. I’ve never pranked a therapist before. 

Eddie: I hope you’re either rich or have really good insurance. Otherwise this is gonna be an expensive first date.

Steve: I got it covered. 

Eddie: I figured you did. I’ll call the guy in the morning and get back to you with the appointment time. 

Steve: Okay. How’s your night going by the way?

Eddie: Nope!

Eddie: That’s not part of the deal, Steve. We go into this blind or not at all.

Steve: This is insane.

Eddie: Once again, your idea. I’m excited. Are you excited?

Steve: Thrilled.

Steve: I’m still concerned about how you know the perfect guy for this.

Eddie: 😛

Eddie: Don’t worry about it.

-

“I don’t even think he’s serious,” Steve said after he recounted the entire interaction to Robin.

“I don’t know, Steve. Sounds serious to me.” 

“What if he’s like - not right in the head?” Steve wondered, reading the interaction over and over again. “Like, who is this therapist and why does he know him? Is he actually going to make an appointment? What if this whole thing crashes and burns?”

“I honestly think he plans on it crashing and burning,” Robin replied. “And then after, the both of you either hit it off and laugh about it forever, or you have an amazing failed date story to tell your friends until the end of time.”

“That’s…actually genius.” 

“I know.” 

Steve read the messages one last time, focusing on the bits where Eddie was mildly flirtatious. Steve! I’m your first? He could tell if Eddie was being condescending, or what vibe he was going to bring to this absolute insane first date. But, as Robin said, it would be a story no matter what. 

He tried to focus on that and not the anxiety that started brewing in his veins.

-

The appointment was set for two weeks later. Eddie still refused to talk to Steve other than for details on where to go and at what time, so for the whole fourteen days, Steve assumed he was being pranked right back. Eddie was messing with him, or he’d cancel, or Dr. Bauman didn’t actually exist, or he’d be murdered, or, or, or -

None of that happened. Instead, on a Tuesday afternoon, Steve pulled up to an office building about fifteen minutes from his apartment. He’d passed by it several times and never once wondered what went on inside. 

Apparently, really weird first dates.

They had decided to meet up in the parking lot and walk in together. The whole thing was crazy, but having one of them pick the other up so they could drive in together was way over what was needed to commit to the bit. 

Steve got there first. They needed to be fifteen minutes early to fill out paperwork. It was twenty minutes prior to their appointment time. 

This was weird. It felt a lot different than all the times he’d met someone for coffee. In another world, that’s how he and Eddie would have met. But no. He had to agree to this stupid thing, and now he was too far into it to back out. Jesus Christ. 

Eddie’s car pulled in a few spaces down. Steve knew it was him from the hair alone - unmistakable. He got out of his car and walked towards his date, his palms sweaty. Eddie got out of his car a moment later, eyeing Steve as he approached him and smirking. 

“What gave me away?” Eddie asked. 

“You think I wouldn’t recognize my boyfriend?” Steve snapped back, pleased at the way he was able to take Eddie off guard. 

“Touche. Well, come on, then. Let’s do this.” 

-

Before they knew it, they were sitting in a cramped waiting room, alone, filling out paperwork. It consisted of insurance information first, followed by names and some quick background questions about the “couple.” Steve began filling it out, thankful that he was still on his dad’s fancy rich-person insurance. It covered basically everything, even fucked-up couples fraud with Dr. Bauman.

“Are you not worried I’m gonna, like, steal your information or something?” Eddie asked as Steve wrote down his policy number.

“I mean…should I be?” Steve responded. 

“No,” Eddie answered with a shrug. “I gotta say, though, you’re way more trusting than I am. It’s ballsy. I like it.” 

“Uhh…” Steve was trying to concentrate on the paperwork, but the compliment was throwing him off. “Thank you, I think.” He continued filling out the paperwork.

“You’re from Hawkins?” he asked. Steve nodded, absentmindedly. “I’m from Hawkins.” This caught Steve’s attention. 

“No shit.” 

“Yeah, seriously.”

“Small world,” Steve replied before turning his attention back to the form.

“You have a cute middle name,” Eddie teased. 

“Shut up,” Steve responded. He wanted to find Eddie’s pestering annoying, but instead he found himself smirking, even giggling a little bit. This whole thing was so ridiculous. He shoved the clipboard onto Eddie’s lap. “Your turn, lover.”

“Euch,” Eddie groaned. “That is not one of our pet names, no way.” 

“Noted,” Steve chuckled. He was…kind of enjoying this way more than he expected, as weird as it was. He’d grown accustomed to a lot of even stranger things in his life, so this didn’t feel as shocking as he’d initially thought. 

“Don’t look,” Eddie said as he covered the paper.

“What? Why not?” Steve asked, confused. 

“Because not all of us are as blindly trusting, Steven,” Eddie responded. Steve shook his head and looked away. 

“Good thing we’re in therapy to work that shit out, Edward Munson.”

“You looked!” Eddie exclaimed. 

“It was right in front of me!” Steve pointed out. 

“Fair enough,” Eddie sighed. “Okay, now we gotta put down a reason for doing this.”

-

Fast forward ten minutes, Eddie and Steve were seated next to each other on a relatively small but cozy burnt orange couch. The color was ugly, but the seats were comfortable. Steve noticed the cushions had a natural dip that kept inching him closer to the person sitting on the opposite side. He figured this was certainly intentional. 

The doctor sat in front of them, reviewing the papers the pair had just filled out.

“Hello, my name is Dr. Bauman, and one day I may let you call me Murray,” he began, his eyes fixed on the papers in front of him. “I see here on your sheet that you’ve been feeling distant from each other, and that you’re looking to feel more connected, right? Can you tell me more about that?”

“We’re just launching right into it, huh?” Eddie asked. 

“Well, we are on a time crunch here. Your decision how you spend it,” Dr. Bauman answered. 

The man was immediately intimidating.

“Ooookay,” Steve said, taking a deep breath. “Yeah, I guess it just feels like - like he and I don’t even know each other anymore.” Eddie stifled a laugh, covering his mouth with his hand to make it seem like he was maybe getting emotional or perhaps trying not to sneeze. 

“I see,” Dr. Bauman said, eyeing them both suspiciously. “Let’s begin with how you two met and we’ll go from there, okay?”

“We were high school sweethearts,” Eddie replied with a grin.

“Wow,” Dr. Bauman commented. “Well, it’s common for a lot of development to happen from then to now. How did you two get together?” Eddie looked to Steve, as if to say, you’re up.

“It just kinda…happened, I guess,” Steve began. “We were assigned as partners for a project and really clicked.”

“Yeah, and then we snuck around for a while. Sneaking kisses in janitor's closets and empty classrooms, you know the drill.” Steve tried not to blush at the thought of sneaking around with high school Eddie. If they were both from Hawkins, did they actually go to high school together?

“Snuck around for the thrill?” Dr. Bauman asked.

“No,” Steve responded. “I wasn’t out yet.” Eddie looked at him curiously, as if he wasn’t expecting Steve to say something so serious. He wondered if it was actually true. 

“Well, that and -” Eddie added. “- he was a popular jock and I was kind of a freak.” This time, Steve looked at Eddie curiously. Steve was a popular jock. Eddie could have assumed that, or made a lucky guess, but something told him that wasn’t the case. 

Eddie Munson. Munson. 

Oh.

Oh!

It took Steve a minute to recover from that information. They did in fact go to school together, they just had never interacted. Eddie obviously remembered, and he obviously knew that Steve didn’t. So what was the goal here? Was Steve being punked or something just so Eddie could get free therapy?

“Steve, you look a little pale there,” Dr. Bauman noticed. “Did that trigger something?”

“Yeah -” Steve croaked, now unable to look at Eddie. If he had, he would have noticed Eddie didn’t look as smug as Steve assumed he was. “Yeah, I just don’t think about high school that much anymore.”

“Why not?” the doctor asked. 

“Because, I - I’ve changed so much since then. I’m not that guy anymore, and I don’t want to be that guy.”

“Ah, I see,” he hummed. “So, Eddie fell for someone who no longer exists. I think I’m understanding the problem here. Eddie, do you feel that you’ve changed?”

Damn. This guy’s kinda good.

“Uhhh -” Eddie began. Neither of them expected this to get so serious so quickly. It didn’t even feel like it was about their imagined relationship anymore. “N-no, I don’t think I have.”

“And Steve, do you think Eddie has changed?”

Steve thought about the limited memories he had of Eddie in high school. Cocky, slightly unhinged, just as he was now. But there was something different, he just couldn’t really pinpoint what. Maybe if he’d talked to Eddie for longer than like ten minutes total in his life, he’d have a better idea. 

Then, he realized the point of this wasn’t to be serious. It was to make shit up. Steve pivoted back to the original plan. 

“Yeah, I mean -” He shifted in his seat, finding himself now thigh to thigh with Eddie, despite not meaning to be. “He’s, uh - it just feels like we don’t have anything in common anymore?” It was something he’d heard lots of couples say.

“Do you want to make this work?” Dr. Bauman asked. 

“Why else would we be here?” Eddie answered. Dr. Bauman narrowed his eyes. 

“You tell me.”

Eddie and Steve were kind of not good at this. Their story was based in truth and not very exciting. They both seemed to realize this at the same time.

“Steve slept with the dogwalker,” Eddie proclaimed. Steve scoffed, half-amused, half-offended. 

“Yeah, well you sold drugs to my mom!” he shot back. The two guys looked at each other, pretending to look angry while simultaneously wanting to laugh. 

“Woooah, there,” Dr. Bauman responded. “Now we’re getting somewhere. Do we want to begin with Steve’s infidelity or Eddie’s illegal activity?”

“That’s not gonna, like, go on record or anything, right?” Steve asked, suddenly anxious. “Like, the cops aren’t gonna show up at Eddie’s door?”

“Our door, babe,” Eddie clarified, not the least bit nervous. 

“Depends on how long ago this happened, I suppose,” Dr. Bauman answered.

“Long time ago,” Eddie said. 

“Are you still currently dealing?”

“No, I don’t even do drugs anymore. Well, like, except pot - but that’s legal now so it doesn’t really count, I think.”

“Dude,” Steve whispered. 

“You brought it up,” Eddie replied just as softly. 

“Right,” Dr. Bauman responded, taking it all in. “No report needed, then. Let’s move onto the dogwalker.” 

They continued to add to their lore as the appointment went on. At one point, Eddie even faked tears. His acting was…decent enough to avoid suspicion, thankfully. When the clock hit 1:45, their time was up, and they’d successfully managed to fool Dr. Bauman. Mission accomplished, date over. Right?

“Well, thank you so much, Dr. Bauman,” Eddie said. “I think you’ve really helped us out today.”

“Yeah, seriously,” Steve said, smiling. “We feel so much better.”

“Now hold on a minute,” Dr. Bauman said with his hands up. “There’s still a lot of work to be done, in my professional opinion.”

“There is?” Eddie asked, confused. 

“Oh, definitely. Most couples go to a minimum of four sessions, and that’s still a low average. Plus, this was only intake. I mean, unless you guys weren’t happy with the counseling I gave you today…”

It felt like a challenge, and Eddie loved challenges. Meanwhile, Steve was too awkward to come clean or tell the doctor they weren’t interested. 

They made another appointment.

-

“Well, that went pretty well, I think,” Eddie said as they left the building. 

“You knew me already?” Steve asked once they were a safe enough distance from the office and Dr. Bauman. “Why didn’t you say anything?”

“I just knew your name and face, man. And, like, your vibe,” Eddie answered. “Back in high school, anyway.” 

“You should have told me,” Steve said. 

“You should have remembered,” Eddie shot back. “Whatever, it was fun. Right?”

“Eddie, I have no idea what that was,” Steve replied. “We have to cancel that appointment.”

“Why? You don’t want to see me again?” Eddie grinned. Steve rolled his eyes.

“No, I - I mean, I don’t want to waste his time. That spot should go to other couples who need it. Meanwhile, we could go get coffee like normal adults.” 

“I dunno,” Eddie said, kicking a pebble in the road as they walked. “I kinda liked it. You can’t tell me you didn’t.”

It was true. Steve couldn’t say that he didn’t.

“Doesn’t matter.” Steve unlocked his car and made his way to the door. “We’re canceling.”

“He’s the one that wanted to see us again, Steve,” Eddie reminded him. 

“Yeah, because he thought we were an actual couple.” Steve was getting frustrated at Eddie’s antics, and the way he refused to back down. “I don’t know if this is gonna work, man. This has been, uh - well, it’s been weird, but I think -”

“We have to go, otherwise you’ll be charged a cancellation fee,” Eddie blurted out. It was a lie, a bold-faced lie, and yet -

“So, I’ll pay the fee. Can’t be more than the cost of a full session,” Steve figured. 

“Ugh!” Eddie groaned in frustration. “Okay, fine. Look - I’m annoying as hell, I’m a mess, I’m broke, and I could never afford someone like Dr. Bauman. I don’t know about you, but some of the things he said actually made me think and I kind of want to ask him about, like, real shit.” 

Steve stared at him blankly for a minute. 

“You - you want me to keep going to fake couple’s counseling with you so you can get actual therapy?” Steve asked, stunned. 

“I mean, you could work your shit out, too,” Eddie suggested.

“What shit? I don’t have shit,” Steve insisted. 

“Of course you do! Everyone does!” Eddie yelled. 

“You’re insane,” Steve muttered. The thing was, he wasn’t saying it out of anger. He was saying it in understanding. 

Because the thing was, Eddie had a point. Dr. Bauman was good at what he did, and Steve knew he’d never sign up for individual counseling. He already had the appointment. Eddie smirked. 

“You’re with me, aren’t you?”

Fuck.

“Fine,” Steve agreed. 

-

Notes from Dr. Bauman - 3/18

Eddie and Steve

Together since high school

Feelings of disconnect

Steve/dogwalker

Eddie/mom/drugs

Clearly lying

Clients are faking their relationship for me, for some reason. Will continue to work with them to figure out why. 

They aren’t dating…but they should be

(next chapter)

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

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[underground-secret]

The Hunter and the Witch~ Dean Winchester x f!reader

Description: The aftermath of injury leads to a desire for comfort.

Warning: Mentions of injury, hospitals, probably incorrect info on concussions, mentions of alleged abuse (like for a second but not in great detail), fluff. P.S: Idc if reader is coming off a little childish in the beginning, i said it before and i’ll say it again reader is honestly almost completely based off of me and something about me is that i hate hospitals. I’m a chronically ill girlie and i still despise them, every time ive had to go ive complained—it’s who i am as a person.

Tag list: @jesllianaquilesrolonsworld , @okayiamkassandra , @fablesrose , @ada--44 @bonkydarnes , @star-yawnznn

Word count: about 2k

Rest

(Master list, Prev Ch, Next Chapter)

“So where to next?” I ask as I buckle my seat, allowing my head to rest finally. I am more than happy to leave behind this apple-loving, pagan-worshiping town.

“‘Bringin’ you to a hospital” Dean answers, starting the car. I jolted up, immediately regretting the action as the pain in my head spiked and my vision wobbled. “Nooo. No. No hospital” I plead, not caring if I sounded pathetic, “I hate hospitals!”

“I wasn’t asking if you wanted to go, sweetheart” he quips. “No, please! I’m totally fine, sure I'm a little beat up but nothing a bandaid and sleep can’t fix.”

“You’re not winnin’ this one” he replies with a little half shrug. I turned to Sam, who already had the map out, and pulled open. “Sam, help me.”

“Sorry Y/N, Deans right.”

Dean sighs dramatically, “I love bein’ right.”

“Shut up” Sam half laughs, “Seriously though Y/N, you probably have a concussion. You should get checked out for a definitive answer.”

“Okay, well, Dean he was hit over the head with a gun too.” I try and deflect. Sam turns his head to face me giving me a “really?” look, “He’s also walking and talking fine, and doesn't look like he’s fighting to keep his eyes open.” I thought I was talking and walking just fine despite feeling like everything was spinning and I was doing a wonderful job of ignoring the ringing in my ears.

I open my mouth to make another retort but I don’t get a single sound out before Dean cuts me off, “If you try any of your escapes I'm callin’ your brother.” That shuts me up, I love my brother but he's very protective and will yell at me if it means being safe. I lean back against the soft seats of the car, pouting, I hate hospitals. I catch Dean's eyes staring at my lips in the rearview mirror, “You can pout as much as you want to, ‘still going.”

I know I'm acting like a child but hospitals are the worst, sure the doctors can be nice but there's so much always going on that it's just too overwhelming and they poke and prod at you. And especially as a hunter, you must make such elaborate lies just to be seen.

The dark-haired doctor removes the small yet extremely bright light from my eyes, “You have a minor concussion” she concluded after the many tests she ran, “there's not much we can prescribe you. But you need a lot of rest and to relax, no drinking or crazy activities for at least a week. You can take Advil in 24 hours if the pain is too much.” If the boys were in this curtained-off room they would most certainly say ‘I told you so.’

She suddenly looks a little nervous, staring back at the curtain before looking at me again, speaking quietly, “This is a safe environment, if those boys are hurting you I can help you.” Her eyes slipped to my wrist, of course she saw the bruises and made the connection to restraints. And so much of my appearance from the now cleaned and bandaged wound on my head to my dirt-stained clothes would lead her to that thought.

I tug down my sleeves, trying to cover them, “No! No, they didn't do anything, they would never do that to me, seriously” I insist, eyes wide. She doesn't seem so convinced, “Look” I sigh, “The person who did this is being charged, alright the cops know about all this. The boys I came with did not do this.” It was mostly a lie, of course, but the point was to clear their names, that part was true. She nods, “I’ll be back with your discharge papers.”

She pulls back the curtains, and the second she's out of sight I sigh. I know it's her job but in this case it wasn't helpful, I didn't want any further fights or complications to go on today.

….

I hold a hand up, “I don't want to hear it. Yes, you were right.” Sam’s lips curve up into a smile, “Hey I said I don't wanna hear it” I cut them both off before they could say anything. Dean swings his arm around my shoulder pulling me into his side, “Like I said, ‘love bein’ right.”

It was still early afternoon when we pulled up to the motel. It was just your regular-looking motel, with two floors of rooms to choose from with dingy lighting but I could not be more happy. We all exited the car rather quickly, it had been a long couple of days. I grab my bag meeting the boys by the trunk, Dean distributing our duffle bags. But when he gets to mine he doesn't hand it over, just closes the trunk, “I can carry my own bag, you know.”

He shrugs, “I know.” God, he was a sweetie pie. I study him as he walks just a few steps ahead of me, after everything that transpired I don't think I want to be alone. I wasn't scared per se, I just wanted comfort and I didn't have any stuffed animals packed. I didn't want to be a burden to him, he was probably tired and would want a bed to himself. But maybe I could just hang in their room for a long while.

“You okay, sweetheart?” He asks, stopping to look back at me. Of course, he could practically sense it. He places our bags on the concrete, getting close enough that I could easily breathe him in. He lifts his hands to cup my face gently, he’s been doing that a lot lately. “‘Your head hurtin’?” He was looking down at me so carefully, his green eyes softening as he watched me. I have to remind myself to respond even as my thoughts extinguish each time his thumbs caress my cheeks, careful to pass over the bruises there, “Well yes but that's not…” I don't finish my sentence not having a single idea of what I should say to him. He looks down at me expectantly, just waiting. I wanted to hug him, keep my head buried in his chest even as my head pounded like a bass playing through an amp, but I can’t exactly say that.

I sigh, “Is it okay if…” I swallow, speaking quietly, “Can I stay with you?”

His eyes widened a fraction and if I wasn't looking right up at him I would have missed it entirely. It's not like this was anything new for us, we've cuddled before while watching a movie or something and even slept in the same bed if needed for a hunt. But to ask like this somehow felt so different, so much more personal. “Of course” he answers simply, eyebrows scrunched together as if he was insulted that I would be so hesitant to ask. He lets go of my face, and I immediately miss the steadiness of it all, he takes a single step back but not before grabbing hold of my hand and picking up our duffles to hold in his free hand.

We catch up to Sam in the small lobby, two keys in his hand instead of the usual three. Was it a coincidence that they just didn't have a room I could use or did he just know? I guess it was possible he saw us in the parking lot and figured out what I would want, am I that easy to read?

….

The room was quite nice, the walls were grey with some white detailing. And the beds were big, most likely a queen, with the crisp white blankets and a tall cushioned headboard. Sam walks in first, choosing the bed on the far side of the room, which was predictable at best seeing as Dean preferred being closer to the door out of a sense of protectiveness.

Dean places his duffle on the bed, handing me mine, “You can take a shower first” he says, telling me more than offering. I swing off my messenger bag, placing it on the bed before looking between both boys, “Are you sure?” I was already intruding in their room and his bed I didn't want to take over the bathroom too. They both nod their heads, I mumble thanks before heading there.

I didn’t care to study the bathroom, just wanting to be under the hot water and wash away the dirt and feelings of the day. I turn the shower on, lifting my shirt over my head before having to stop with it halfway off of me to stop the room from spinning. I close my eyes forcing myself to relax and not sway as I stripped down to nothing.

Being naked only made my bruises look worse. My wrists were rubbed raw, painful red marks adorning each one, and my cheeks had dark bruises on them from being punched twice over the span of a couple of days. Never mind the gash on the corner of my forehead, which I’d have to bandage again after the shower, and the subtle black and blues on my side likely from being thrown to the ground.

I swallow hard, I don’t want to think of any of this anymore. I step into the rather small shower, the hot water pouring over my head and down my body taking the tension with it as it went down the drain.

I step out of the steamy bathroom feeling infinitely times better despite the spinning room and hurting head. My hair was wet and clean and felt lighter now that it was no longer dusted with dirt, and I was in comfortable pajamas.

Yes, it wasn’t nighttime yet or time to sleep but that doesn't mean a girl can’t wear comfortable clothes. It was nice to be in pajamas, wearing some white plaid pants and a loose tee with a cute little embroidered bear in the corner and of course an oversized sweater because somehow I was always cold. It was a wonderful yet small feat.

Dean’s sitting up in bed, both boys watching some football game on the small TV. I slump into the bed carefully lying my head down as I get underneath the covers. Dean seemed to study me for a moment, smiling softly, he was probably trying to assess how I felt. Whatever he was looking for he seemed to find, nodding to himself before getting up and heading to the bathroom with a change of clothes. A moment later the shower turns on.

I sink into the bed further, turning away from the TV, I didn’t care enough for sports to want to watch it anyway. The weight of the past few days catch up to me quickly, my eyelids feeling heavier and heavier.

….

The bed beside me suddenly sinks down, and my eyes flutter open being met with Dean’s familiar frame, “Sorry sweetheart didn’t mean to wake you.” I shake my head, I must have been out for just a couple of minutes, “It’s okay” I mumble still on the outskirts of sleep. He gets under the covers, his black shirt accentuating the muscles in his arms as he moves.

Once he situates himself he holds his arms open to me, silently asking if I wanted to get closer. He always seemed to know what I wanted or what I felt, sometimes I feared he knew me too well. I shift closer to him and he meets me halfway pushing me the rest of the way into him.

He practically places my head on his chest, close to his shoulder, his arm closes in on me holding me impossibly closer to him, his hand resting on my waist. His body warmth immediately reaches me, and in his embrace, any fears or anxieties I had the last few days seemed to dissipate. I place a hand on his chest feeling the steady beat of his heart beneath my fingertips. The hand on my waist begins to move slightly, his thumb rubbing slow circles into my side, my heart seems to flutter and I fear I won't be able to move on from this. It is moments like these that I find it hard to keep my feelings to myself, my love seems to bustle in my veins threatening to spill out. And with everything I have in me, I must bottle them back in, even as he places a soft kiss on my forehead and I think my heart just took off flying.

I melt into him, neither of us saying anything–not that we needed to. I can feel his rings on my side and the comforting weight of his hand there, the warmth he let off and his scent of something like pine or maybe it was wood, and just for a moment under the fog of a mild concussion, I imagine a forever like this. Being able to fall asleep each night to his hold and wake with him still there right beside me.

[triplexdoublex]

Cockblock

Pairing: Colson X Reader

Warnings/tags: public sex, getting caught, mentions of anal , Colson’s making inappropriate sexual remarks to the female principal

A/N: This is a highschool AU both of you are 18. This based off a dream and my own past wild days, except I never got caught 🙈

“Jesus!” Your best friend Shawnie gasped, caught off guard when she opened the girls restroom door only to find you and Colson going at it like rabbits on the bathroom counter. Colson was leaned against the edge,practically sitting on it due to his height, your backside pressed into his lap with the rear of your skirt flipped up. “Do you two ever stop?” Shawnie asked, checking her makeup in the mirror, completely unphased after the initial shock of walking in on the two of you having sex. “Couldn’t even bother to use the stall?”

“Nope” Colson briefly paused sucking on the side of your neck to answer her bluntly, continuing to pull your hips back against him. “Needed her now.”

“I swear it’s almost like you two want to be caught, AGAIN!”

It was well known around school that you and Colson fucked and fooled around every chance you got. Your classmates have all seen your not-so-discreet hand movements under the desk when you and Colson would pair up for projects, they’ve watched as his hand disappeared down the front of your leggings on the back of the bus, they’ve heard your hushed pleasure filled cries of “‘Colson!” coming from the janitors closet. And who could forget the time the school blabbermouth caught you two having anal sex under the bleachers at the football game, — you still haven’t lived that one down. The story spread like wildfire throughout the building, even making it back to Mrs. Jackie, the school principal. Of course she had no actual proof, besides the rumors she heard swirling about, so she couldn’t take any real disciplinary action, besides a stern warning and a speaking to. But just a few weeks later she caught you both with your pants down— literally — in the courtyard at lunch, resulting in a three day in school suspension and a call home.

“Honestly, we really don’t give a fuck if we do get caught. Ain’t that right, baby?” He licked a stripe up your neck and slid one of his hands under the front of your skirt to play with your clit as you both got closer.

“You guys are insane!” Shawnie exclaimed as she finished the final touch ups of her make up. “Didn’t they call home last time? Your parents must have flipped!”

“I’m a latch key kid, with an alcoholic father. You think he gave a fuck.” Colson answered back.

“I know your moms super strick, Y/N. She couldn’t have been too happy with you.” Shawnie prompted.

“Turns out I can do a pretty convincing impression of my mom's voice,” You covered up a moan with a laugh. “ Thank god for Caller ID, and thank god Mrs. Jackie waited until after school to call home.”

Shawnie was starting to say something else when Colson interrupted her —“ Aye, listen either you you shut up and join, or fuck off and let us finish!?”

“Point taken.” Shawnie said, tossing her makeup into her purse with an eye roll and heading towards the door when suddenly it flew open. “Mrs. Jackie!” Shawnie gasped aloud trying to give you and Colson some kind of warning but it was too late.

“Baker!, Y/N!” Mrs. Jackie scolded. “As soon as I found out you were both missing from your third period classes , I knew you were up to no good!”

“No, it’s GOOD,trust me!” Colson retorted with a smirk, not giving a single fuck as he pulled your hips back against him again.

Realizing she wasn’t going to get anywhere with Colson, Mrs. Jackie turned her attention to you. “Y/N, step away from Mr. Baker … My office now! Both of you are getting a two week suspension!”

“Damn, can’t you at least let us finish first!” Colson pushed his luck.

“NOW!” Mrs. Jackie reiterated!

You begrudgingly stepped forward,letting Colson slip out of you, and smoothed your skirt down over your backside. Colson was less descreit, talking his sweet time and making sure Mrs. Jackie got a good look before putting away his massive dick.

“Jesus Christ!” She exclaimed before turning around and heading out the bathroom with both of you in tow.

“What’s a matter , Mrs. Jackie? Bigger than your husbands, ain’t it ?” Colson taunted inappropriately.

“One more word Mr. Baker, and it’s gonna be an expulsion for you!”

“Cockblock.”

[prince-liest]

The specific phrasing of “hurt very pretty” is. I knew before this series I was more into the soft sadism/dom thing but it’s soooo rare to find someone who does the exact flavor I’m into and I think that phrase in my head sooooo often

Ahaha, I'm so glad you're enjoying it! I've always really liked, as you describe it, soft sadism, where it's about the intimacy, the connection, and the sort of delightfully recursive loop you get when the suffering is enjoyed, and the enjoyment of the suffering also contributes to the suffering, whether it be via enthusiasm or humiliation. Funnily enough, despite the kind of stuff that I write, S&M that feels genuinely callous and miserable is fully capable of squicking me if it hits just wrong. I really like writing sadism that feels tender, even when it's violent.

Five more asks under the cut! If you sent something about 666 in the past 24-ish hours, it's probably there!

Your newest channel 666 fic had me so mixed on how to feel "Oh ok they're drunk and Al's on his lap... that wasn't in the tags oh no vox isn't advancing... nevermind he's electrocuting Al, i get it, a little something to get the blood pumping oh no wait he's actually electrocuting him oh good lord he's screaming in pain"

Hahaha, god, tagging this chapter was really a fucking nightmare - if there's anything you think I missed that's important to include, PLEASE let me know, because I tried to cover my bases but I really had to give up after a bit. It's just One Of Those Chapters and the first time I've used the Graphic Violence archive warning for something that was just fully consensual sexy times, haha. I hope it was at least enjoyable overall! Alastor certainly had a good time.

I've binged your 666 series and it irreversibly changed my brain chemistry It's more canon than everything that happened in the show itself to me - @grimfeywizard

Ahhhh, thank you so much! >:D I definitely tried to mimic the style of canon for the characters, especially for the first installments before they kinda went their own way character development wise, haha. I'm glad you like it!! <3

I was at a convention all weekend and when you updated BOTH times I snuck out of my group and into a corner to read them I am completely obsessed with this series 🙏🙏🙏 -@urlocal-cryptid7

Omg, glad to add the cherry on top of your con experience, hahaha. Thank you so much!!

hey there, just wanted to say i’m absolutely enraptured with the 666 series! it’s absolutely amazing and one of my favorite fics out there right now. i’m always looking forward to it and checking for updates, great work!!!!

Ahhhh, thank you for the kind words!! I'm really enjoying writing it in all of its weirdnesses, so it's always so nice to hear that people are enjoying the odd directions it goes!

Another fun radiostatic song: The Masochism Tango by Tom Lehrer - @butwhyaretheycalledstrawberries

This is 100% what I had playing in the car on repeat when I wrote one of the previous installments, hahaha. It's a fantastic radiostatic song, especially with the level of sadomasochism I write into 666.

(Anon who was awaiting the drunk Alastor shenanigans here) Me, pre-installment 8 of 666: Oh My God, it’s happening. Everybody STAY CALM- Me, post-installment 8 of 666: *ugly sobbing* it was everything i could ever hope for, your honor. The Prince(TM) is good and merciful. So yeah, expectations met as always 👍

Omg, ehehehe - drunk Alastor was honestly SO fun to write, because it's just... taking away a lot of his worries and inhibitions, and the behaviors that normally accompany them. I took what Mimzy said about him being a kitten when he's had a few drinks and lets loose and ran with it, and it turned out very enjoyable. I'm glad you also had a good time reading, hahaha!

[hippolotamus]

Hello friends, work has been kicking my ass and I am soooooo behind on tags. I am slowly but surely catching up and looking forward to reading all the things! So, small confession... I've been reworking pieces of come close (let me be home) so some of the snippets might look familiar from before. Hoping the writing beans will soon allow me to make new words. Until then, have this Eddie and Christopher moment before the first ball (all prev snippets here) 😘

“This awful, cursed thing— Argh!” Eddie drops the ends of his bowtie in frustration. It’s not like he even wants to attend this wretched ball tonight. Least of all to placate his mother.

It would be different if he were going as someone who could casually stand in the background, sipping lemonade and observing his surroundings. If only it were that simple. Instead he’s expected to not only be there, but socialize, dance, and interact with potential partners. How is he meant to choose who he’ll spend the rest of his life with – someone to care for his son – based on how well they can perform the quadrille or regurgitate meaningless facts? It’s utter insanity.

“Daddy?” The timid voice reaches out from behind him.

Eddie turns to see Christopher hovering in the doorway, watching intently. The welcome sight is enough for the weight of tonight’s expectations to fall away, finally allowing him to breathe. He goes to his son, picking him up and drinking in the surprised sound.

“What can I do for you, sir?”

Christopher’s nose scrunches in amusement at the endearment before he gets a very serious look on his face. “Can I come with you?”

“I wish,” Eddie huffs out a humorless laugh. “It would make things way more interesting. Although, honestly, I’d much rather stay here with you.”

“Why don’t you then?” Christopher blinks owlishly behind his glasses.

Eddie envies his youthful ignorance for not yet understanding the pressures and politics of adulthood. He sighs and rubs his temple with his free hand, trying to think of an explanation that isn’t an outright lie. With everything that’s happened in Christopher’s short life, Eddie always strives to be honest with him.

“Well, because,” he stretches the words out as his brain continues to configure them into an acceptable arrangement. “I– promised your abuela I would go.”

Chris nods thoughtfully, seeming to accept the answer he’s been given. But, of course, he’s always been more perceptive than Eddie gives him credit for.

“Is this because Abuela wants me to have a new mom?” His voice is quieter, the tone colored with hesitation. Eddie wants to somehow pull him closer, to carve a space beneath his ribs to keep him safe.

“Not a new one, exactly. You know that no one could ever replace your mother. This would be someone else to love and take care of you.”

“But I thought that’s why we have Carla,” Chris protests.

Eddie chuckles at his son’s logic and thinks he might be the one person who could match wits with Helena Diaz. “You’re right. She does both of those things. Carla loves and cares about you very much. It’s just… your abuela has some different ideas. She’s a little stuck in the past sometimes.”

“Okay.” Christopher grins brightly, removing any traces of his serious persona. “Then I hope you have fun and find someone nice for us.”

“Me, too, bud. Me, too.”

Eddie’s brought back to reality when his valet announces the carriage is ready. He presses a kiss to Christopher’s temple and gently sets him on the floor. “Be good for Carla?”

“I’m always good for Carla.” Christopher proudly puffs out his chest.

“Of course. How could I forget?” Eddie teases. “I must be remembering a different little boy that got covered in mud while playing and had to be scrubbed clean.”

Chris rolls his eyes. “One time,” he mumbles.

Eddie snorts as he jogs down the staircase, hoping in vain to burn off some of his nervous energy that’s returned. His cloak is nearly arranged when Christopher calls from the upper floor.

“Daddy! Your tie!”

Right. Eddie sighs and makes a final attempt to knot the material together in front of the hall mirror. Miraculously he makes it in one pass this time and turns with a flourish so Christopher can make his assessment.

His son beams down at him with a toothy grin. “Be good for Abuela!”

Eddie responds with an exaggerated bow, drinking in the giggle that floats down. He snaps it up, like something he could keep in his pocket. A protective barrier from whatever he might have to face tonight. With a heavy sense of dread sitting like a stone in his stomach, Eddie waves goodbye and walks outside to the carriage. As he steps up to the plush, velvet, forest green bench, he wishes it felt less like marching to the Tower of London.

“Ready, sir?” His driver asks from the front.

No. “Ready.”

tagged by @malewifediaz @hoodie-buck @daffi-990 @your-catfish-friend thank you loves!

no pressure tagging @disasterbuckdiaz @stereopticons @shortsighted-owl @eddiebabygirldiaz LOML @lizzie-bennetdarcy @vanillahigh00 @rmd-writes @welcometololaland @apothecarose @jesuisici33 @callmenewbie @giddyupbuck @wikiangela @jamespearce9-1-1 @spotsandsocks (she posted a new chapter of shifter fic so go check that out!) @exhuastedpigeon @lemonzestywrites @thewolvesof1998 @steadfastsaturnsrings @weewootruck @loserdiaz @heartshapedvows @underwater-ninja-13 @fortheloveofbuddie @eowon @watchyourbuck @monsterrae1 @elvensorceress @spagheddiediaz @chaosandwolves @wildlife4life @buddierights @911onabc @the-likesofus @spaceprincessem @fionaswhvre @barbiediaz @honestlydarkprincess @pirrusstuff @messyhairdiaz @gayedmundodiaz @theplaceyoustillrememberdreaming @maygrantgf @statueinthestone @indestructibleheart and anyone else who wants to share 💖

[depressedhouseplant]

🔞 Just Fucking Write - Day 102 🔞

Prompt: Sunwoo x Wonyoung

Tags: Unprotected sex (wrap it up kids), use of the word “whore”, squirting, multiple orgasms

A/N: Here’s my most recent request (keep ‘em coming! 💕) Somehow Juyeon made his way in here as a supporting character. That doesn’t count toward his stats though.

Sunwoo didn’t even remember what this party was for. All he knew was he was the only one of the group invited. That wasn’t uncommon given the size of the group, but it would’ve been nice to have someone to talk to when he arrived. He grabbed a drink off a passing tray and found a spot at a table to scan the room. A girl he didn’t immediately recognize walked over and stood in front of him.

”Hello,” she smiled.

”Hey,” he replied, trying not to appear too awkward.

”You don’t remember me?” she asked.

”Honestly? No,” Sunwoo admitted.

”Wonyoung, I hosted Music Bank with Sunghoon. Now I’m in Ive,” she told him. They’d been on there so many times, Sunwoo had to work to remember. He vaguely remembered her from Whisper promotions, but that had been a rough time for all of them.

”Right, yes,” he nodded.

“It’s okay if you don't remember. I’ve heard all about you boys. Gay as fuck for the cameras but in reality all of you will fuck pretty much anything with a nice ass,” Wonyoung said.

“Heard from who?” Sunwoo asked, not sure if he was offended or impressed.

“Everyone? Juyeon is fucking half the industry and gender is not the dividing half. Eric will accept a blow job from anyone. I was pretty sure that Sangyeon was useless bottom until I heard he gave pussy a try at least once. So, Sunwoo, what are you?” she took a long, suggestive lick off her cocktail straw.

“I, um, well, I don’t really like labels,” he coughed. Wonyoung smirked.

“So you’ll fuck anything with a nice ass?” she teased.

“I’m open to experiences,” Sunwoo was still coughing on his own spit. This was not what he’d been expecting. At all.

“Which leads me to my next question, what do you think of my ass?” she turned around and arched her back, the fact her dress was backless only accentuated the path down her spine to her ass. She was skinny like every other girl in the industry, but she knew how to make herself look good. Or maybe her stylists did. That wasn’t really the point. The point was Sunwoo’s cock was hard against his zipper.

“It’s nice, very nice,” he replied. Suddenly the room seemed too hot. She turned around and leaned over the table, purposely accentuating her chest.

”You’ll like it better when a dress isn’t covering it,” she told him. “And based on that bulge in your pants, you’re open to the experience.”

“I’m open,” he nodded.

“Perfect,” she grinned. She handed him a card. “Room 1206. Meet me there in 5 minutes.”

“Okay,” he agreed. When she was far enough away, Sunwoo pulled out his phone and texted the one person he thought might know something about her.

Sunwoo: I just got propositioned

Juyeon: By?

Sunwoo: Wonyoung

Juyeon: She was crawling all over me last week. She didn’t take being turned down well

Sunwoo: I’m your sloppy seconds???

Juyeon: Guess so. Let me know how it goes. I’m about to meet Aeri so ✌🏻

The message that Juyeon’s phone was on do not disturb popped up. Sunwoo tried not to groan in frustration. Of course, knowing Juyeon turned her down did give him a little leverage. She’d managed to fluster him, but now he knew what she wanted.

By this point it was time to go upstairs. Sunwoo rode the elevator up and let himself in while trying not to overthink.

“Bedroom!” he heard her when he closed the door and kicked off his shoes. In the next room, Wonyoung was stretched out on the bed naked with her legs spread just enough for Sunwoo to see she was wet. She was playing with one of her nipples when she met his eyes.

“Ready for this experience?” she smirked.

“I guess I’ll be able to tell Juyeon what he missed,” Sunwoo began undressing. “You know my cock is just as big as his. Somehow he gets all the attention for it though.”

Wonyoung’s face briefly changed at the mention of Juyeon, but then went back to the well practiced smile.

“Oh really?” she asked.

“Mmhmm. So if you’re looking for a big cock I’ve certainly got what you’re looking for. I’m also not currently fucking at least 3 other people,” Sunwoo climbed on the bed and hovered over her.

“Is that your way of saying you don’t want to use a condom?” she looked up at him.

“Only if you’re okay with it,” Sunwoo told her.

“I am,” Wonyoung nodded.

“Do you want to keep fooling around or are you going to take my cock like the whore we both know you are?” Sunwoo asked. It was a calculated risk. He could get himself slapped, kicked out, and possibly blacklisted among female idols because he called one a whore. Or he could get her pushing him onto his back and mounting his cock. Which is what happened.

“Did Juyeon call me that?” she asked.

“No, if anything he’s a whore,” Sunwoo replied.

“And me?” she continued.

“The real question is did you like it?” Sunwoo asked. Wonyoung paused, tracing patterns on his chest with her well manicured nail.

“I did,” she agreed.

“Good,” Sunwoo smirked up at her.

“And now this whore is going to ride your cock until I milk you dry,” she leaned down and gave him a peck on the lips. Then she braced herself on his shoulders and began riding him hard. It had been a while since he’d been with a girl, but Sunwoo quickly remembered how good a hot, wet pussy felt on his cock. He groaned as she rode him, coating his cock in pussy juice. Sunwoo closed his eyes and stretched out, content to let Wonyoung use him as a human dildo.

He wasn’t sure how long it had been when he felt Wonyoung start to contract around him. She dug her nails into his shoulders and bucked, moaning his name as she squirted onto his pubic hair. Sunwoo had heard of squirters, but this was the first time he’d actually experienced it. He opened his eyes and looked at her. She brushed her sweaty hair off her forehead and looked down at him.

“You like that?” she panted.

“Yeah,” he nodded.

“Good,” she smirked. “Now time for my second one and maybe I’ll let you come.”

“Is that how it works?” Sunwoo asked.

“Exactly how it works,” Wonyoung replied. She began riding him again and Sunwoo closed his eyes again. He felt the heat start to build in his lower belly.

“Don’t think I didn’t feel that,” she said.

“I’m sure you did,” he replied. She clenched her pussy around him and that sent him over the edge. She started riding him again and came a few moments later. As promised, she fucked him through both their orgasms and then slid off him.

“Pass me that towel,” she nodded to the side of the bed. Sunwoo did and she began cleaning both of them up.

“Good experience?” she asked.

“Definitely,” Sunwoo agreed.

“You’re welcome,” she grinned.

“Thank you,” he replied.

[proffesionalalpaca]

Varang canon inspired design via extremely blurry screenshot and Oona Chaplin’s beautiful face.

So with the tiny snippet we got from the behind the scenes featurette I drew a rough sketch of Varang from those very blurry screenshots. It’s in canon colours and I used the same reference photo of Oona Chaplin as a previous work of fanart I did for Varang (in my own fire Na’vi design), instead of drawing her headpiece I wanted to draw what her hair could look like underneath/casual-look. Just plain face, no war paint or whatever.

Honestly when I think about it, there’s a good chance she could have like, no hair, ancient Egyptian shaved style and covered in a wig/headdress.

Her stripes are supposed to be very tiger inspired and the fire Na’vi having red eyes just seems right. Besides the face shape (I think?!) and the base skin tone this is all speculation again but I hope it gives a clearer view of what Varang will look like in Avatar 3.

Honestly I’m just so hyped for this character and I’ve got no idea why. Maybe because it seems she’ll be really important in Quaritch’s story line and his story was my favourite part of atwow and I’m probs jumping the gun by a mile to start shipping them but it’s the dark vortex of hyper fixation that done got me. (Starting the #Quarang tag for potential doa but that’s a problem for future P.A).

Below is the new drawing alongside the references I used and the ‘detail’ sketches I made of the screenshots. Edit: okay I couldn’t resist a war paint version.

[marvelouslycaptivating]

A Swarm of Butterflies

Masterlist

Part 8: The Mission

Pairing: Steve Rogers X Reader

Summary: The team goes on their urgent mission and Steve uncovers some unnerving information.

Authors Note: Wow. It’s been awhile. I’m so sorry to leave you all hanging for so long. I have been dealing with all kinds of real life things. I’ve lacked inspiration, and honestly almost gave up writing altogether. Those of you that have hung around…thank you so much. It’s you who’ve inspired me to continue. Just a few parts left in this series!! My other stories will also be getting finished up as soon as possible!!

Click the masterlist link above to read other parts! I’m no longer doing a tag list as it’s hard for me to keep up with. If you’d like to know when a new part is released turn on those notifications!! I love you all dearly.

Steve walked out of your apartment building with a broad smile on his face. His heart felt as though it were about to take flight. He couldn't recall a moment in his life that he'd felt happier.

He unlocked his car and quickly opened the door, tossing his duffle bag on the passenger seat. He slid into the driver's seat and put the key into the ignition, turning it to bring the old car to life.

He took a deep breath in and looked up through the dew-covered windshield. The sun was painting the sky with the vibrant shades of pink, much like the sunrise the two of you had shared the morning you met. He couldn't stop thinking about taking you on a date after that morning, and now he couldn't stop thinking about watching every sunrise for the rest of his life with you.

He reluctantly tore his eyes away from the artistry before him and threw the car in reverse.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

About fifteen minutes later he pulled the car into his designated parking space at the compound and killed the engine. He quickly got out and grabbed his bag, slinging it over his muscular shoulder. He walked across the damp pavement and yanked the door open.

As soon as he stepped inside, he was met by the teams new secretary, Maggie. She was a young intern Tony had hired to help with administrative work. She was studying microbiology. She was always on time, professional, and a huge help to the team.

She had deep expresso eyes and a mane of spiraling curls.

"Morning Maggie." Steve offered her a smile.

"Morning Captain Rogers. Tony asked me to bring you straight to the hangar," She explained, extending a manilla file to him. He took in her perfectly manicured nails. They dark fuchsia shade popped against her skin. He wondered if the color would look good on y/n.

He took the file from her with furrowed brows. He flipped it open in his large hands.

"Straight to the hangar, huh? Must be important." He mused.

"Yes sir, I believe it's Hydra related." She replied, her heels clacking loudly across the marble floor as they walked.

His heart dropped as soon as she said Hydra. He looked down at the folder as he walked, quickly scanning over the mission brief.

A potential Hydra base near a village in the mountains. Villagers have been reported mysteriously missing for months. An informant believes that they are being abducted for experiments.

His palms began to sweat, and his heart rate increased immediately. A feeling of dread pooled in his stomach. He picked up his pace and Maggie struggled behind him to keep up with his inhuman strides.

"I've got it from here Maggie. Thank you!" he called over his shoulder, causing the young interns steps to falter and then retreat back down the hallway.

He reached the hangar in record time. Everyone else was already suited up and arming themselves. Natasha shot him a tight lipped smile. Tony wore a look of concern, and Bucky looked as uncomfortable as he was sure he did.

"Morning sunshine." Nat sing-songed in an attempt to ease his mood.

He tried to force a smile, but he couldn't hide the tension in his shoulders.

"Morning," he clipped, "We ready?" he asked.

"Waiting on you, Loverboy." Tony teased, tapping the front of his armor.

Steve sighed, running a hand through his perfectly styled hair. Bucky slapped a comforting hand on his shoulder signaling that he wasn't alone in how he was feeling.

"Right. Let me suit up then." he muttered robotically as he turned and headed towards the locker room.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

Three hours later he was standing at the front of the Quinjet in his suit. His shield gleamed on his back and his gloved hands were in tight fists at his sides. Tony stood beside him explaining everyone's roles.

"Nat you find the control room. Hack into the system and download any files and information you can find on this hard drive. It will automatically upload your findings to Friday." Tony explained, handing the spy a small, metal drive.

"Barnes you and Rogers will go in first. You'll start clearing out any goons and then try to find the villagers that are being held hostage. Get them out and to safety. Sam you'll be our eye in the sky. We need to be prepared if they send for back up."

Steve stared ahead. His mind on a pretty girl back at home. He'd never been so distracted on a mission.

Tony glanced at him before continuing, "I'll go find the center of the base and I'll be placing explosives. After they're set, we'll only have about fifteen minutes before the go off. The blast will be large enough to bring the entire base down, so we need to be quick in and out."

Bucky offered a nod in understanding, Natasha blurted a quick "yes sir", and Sam just started moving. Steve stayed rooted in place his mind still adrift.

"Cap." Tony called, "Cap!"

Steve offered no response. Still staring into the abyss.

Tony's concern only grew as he took in his friends rigid stance.

"Steve." Tony laid a gentle hand on the super soldier's shoulder.

Finally, Steves eyes snapped over to Tony. His brows furrowed and his plump lips pulled into a frown.

"What is going on with you? You never zone out like that." Tony inquired, voice calm.

Steve released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding. He shook his head and looked down at his combat boots. Shame colored his features. He was normally a strong leader, but this mission felt different. He couldn't place why, but he was on edge.

"I don't know Tony. Normally I feel confident going into a mission, but ever sense I read that file this morning I've just felt this anxiety that I can't seem to shake." He confessed.

Tony nodded slowly, trying to understand.

"Look, I know Hydra puts you and Barnes on edge, but hundreds of people have gone missing, and they need our help. I wouldn't have called you in on your weekend off if I didn't need you." Tony explained.

Steve sighed. "I know."

"Alright, let's think of something positive to help get your mind off things. Tell me something good Rogers." Tony began to walk toward the back of the Jet. His armor whirring with every step.

Steve smiled for the first time since he'd arrived at the compound. His ocean eyes crinkling at the corners.

"She told me she loved me this morning." Steve confessed, heart fluttering once again.

Tony chuckled as he adjusted his armor.

"Finally," he exclaimed, "If I had to watch you guys give each other puppy eyes for another movie night I think I would've exploded." He joked.

Steve let out a laugh, reaching down to fiddle with the collar of his suit.

“It was different Ton.” Steve tried to explain, his voice shyly dropping an octave.

Tony turned eyes trained on his friend. Steve, the most level headed man he knew, wore a besotted smile. A glow emanated from him, and for the first time since Tony had met him…he looked at peace. He looked happy, and Tony’s heart felt warm.

“She isn’t just another girl. She’s everything, Tony.” He confided, “My heart couldn’t beat without her. She is everything I have searched for all these years. She is the other half of me that I thought was lost in that ice all those years ago.” Steve’s voice was thick with emotion, and his strong hands trembled slightly.

“I have to get home to her. For the first time in a long time home doesn’t feel far away.” His eyes finally rose to meet Tony’s, and tears brimmed his lower lash line.

Tony smiled a genuine, heartfelt smile as he strolled over.

“Don’t you worry. I’ll make sure you make it back, I swear it.” Tony promised, his hand squeezing Steve’s shoulder.

Steve offered him a smile and discreetly wiped at his eyes as Tony turned and called out to the rest of the team.

“Approaching our target in ten. Let’s do this!” He closed his helmet as he readied for the danger ahead.

••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••••

As soon as the team entered the facility things went sideways. Hundreds of Hydra soldiers poured in from every angle, effectively trapping them at the entrance. They spent what felt like ages trying to take them down.

By the time every soldier had been eliminated they were all breathless and filthy. Natasha had a slight limp, Steve's lip was split, and Tony's armor was covered in dents.

"Alright." Tony breathed, hands on his hips. "Lets get this done. Stick to the plan. If you run into trouble ask for help over the comms." He ordered, taking off down a dimly lit path Friday suggested would take him to the center of the base.

Steve looked over at Natasha. The redhead was in pain, although she'd never admit it.

"I'm gonna go with Nat. You got this Buck?" Steve asked, eyes swinging over to his childhood friend.

Bucky nodded confidently reloading the gun in his hands.

"I don't need you to babysit me, Cap." Natasha sassed, brushing dirt from her uniform.

"Course not." he smiled, turning to take off down the hallway opposite of the direction Tony had gone.

He moved briskly down the abandoned corridor. The lights flickered eerily overhead, and he felt goosebumps explode over his arms. His stomach churned; something didn't feel right.

They swept a dozen empty rooms before finding the control room. Natasha hobbled over to the computers. She hacked into the system as quickly as her shaking hands would allow as Steve stood watch at the door.

He took a few deep breaths in a feeble attempt to calm his racing heart. His mind wondering to the girl he’d left behind at home. What were you doing right now? Were you finishing the book you’d started last week? Were you cuddled up on the couch in your pajamas watching the movies you were supposed to watch together this weekend? Did you miss him as much as he missed you?

He pictured your breathtaking smile as you gazed up at him before he left the apartment. He remembered the way his heart felt as though it were going to burst. He couldn’t wait to make it home to you.

He was suddenly snapped from his thoughts when Natasha spoke.

“Cap, get over here.” Her voice was laced with urgency.

Steve pushed himself away from the cold concrete wall behind him and strolled over to the spy. His boots made heavy thuds in the tile floor.

“Hydra has been running tests on locals just like we thought, but their experiments are failing. Every person they’ve used in their trials have died.” She explained, her eyes cold.

Steve sucked in a breath and ran a hand over his face. This was not what he wanted to hear.

“They can’t seem to get their super soldier serum right.” She explained further.

He eyes the words in the screen. They were all in Russian. He couldn’t read them. He knew Nat was sparing him all the gruesome details.

Suddenly she reached out and grabbed his forearm softly. Her eyes bore into his own. The look on her face made his heart speed up.

“Hydra has a plan to kidnap Y/N.” She stated calmly.

His heart stopped inside his chest. His lungs constricted and all of a sudden he couldn’t breathe. Had he heard her correctly?

“What?” He croaked out breathlessly.

“They plan to abduct her. They know that you’ll turn yourself in to free her.”

His large hands began to tremble. He could feel sweat beading in his furrowed brows.

His girl was in danger. The love of his life was in serious danger…because of him.

“No.” He whispered, his throat betraying him. He began to shake his head rapidly. His mind was spiraling out of control.

He began to pace the floor. His hands reaching up to tug at the golden strands of hair on his head.

If Hydra got ahold of Y/N there’s no telling what they’d do. He couldn’t stomach the thought.

His mind raced as alarm bells blared in his head. His blood ran cold.

This was a set up. This mission was a decoy. Hydra knew that the Avengers would show up if they suspected that civilians needed rescuing, but there was no one left to rescue.

That was why there were soldiers upon entry, but no back up had been called. No alarms went off. They practically waltzed right in and got into their database easily.

They were distracting them so that they could abduct Y/N.

His pacing immediately ceased.

“Damn it!” He bellowed, his fist colliding with the wall. Little pieces of concrete rained to the floor.

“This was a set up!” He turned toward Nat, chest heaving. “We’ve gotta get back. They’re going after her now.” He seethed.

Nats mouth opened and closed rapidly, but no words escaped. She turned and yanked the hard drive from the computer before effectively typing in a code to destroy the system.

“Let’s go!” She demanded as she strolled across the room.

She pressed her delicate fingers to the piece of equipment in her ear.

“Back to the jet, now. We’ve gotta get back.” She barked the command as she led Steve back the way they came.

“What?” Bucky questioned a minute later. “I haven’t found the hostages yet.”

Steve sighed and reached up to his own ear piece.

“There aren’t any. They’re all dead. This was a set up.” He stated flatly.

Nat spared him a concerned glance. His shoulders were rigid. His lips pressed into a thin line.

“What? What are you talking about?” Tony demanded, sounding out of breath.

Steve’s hands clenched into fists at his side.

“Hydra sent us here as a diversion. They’re going to abduct Y/N.” Natasha explained as Steve’s fist flew into another wall.

[mylifeisactuallyamess]

The Keldabe Kiss

A/N: It’s no secret I actually despise February 14th (whether I’m single or not!) and so I fall back on my boys to help me through. Don’t ask, I’m complicated. This year the lucky guy is Tech 🥹 honestly my clone fixation has blown up recently and I’m not even sorry. (I use that tag a lot.) I wrote something simple for him.

Summary: Festival of Love has come to Ord Mantel (yes I fucked with the timeline.)

Warnings: none except this is based on a little universe I have going on in my head where the Bad Batch rescued a medic and nicknamed her Stitch. F!Reader (I can’t remember if I stipulated that in the fic so just covering my ass. If could be GN I honestly can’t remember.) Mention of children (Omega.) It’s kinda fluffy.

Word Count: 3.5k+

You stood outside Cid’s parlour, watching some people put up flickering lights ready for tomorrow's Festival. You’d been so set on going, never having the opportunity to experience something like this before as you’d always been on the run or ‘avoiding the locals', your father had called it. These things were never fun alone though.

The wistful sigh couldn’t be contained but your sinking mood was lifted by the group coming toward you. Their armour was distinctive, marked with orange and grey, carrying their helmets as they eyed everyone with a healthy dose of suspicion. You knew where they were heading and you waited to side until they reached you.

“Ah, Stitch!” Wrecker grinned joyfully at you and barged past his brothers to grab you in a bear hug, lifting you clean off the ground.

“Wrecker!” You giggled, momentarily losing your balance after being swept off your feet. Hunter automatically reached out to steady you with a firm hand to your shoulder followed by the softening of his gaze. “Good mission?”

“Depends on what you’d define as good.” Hunter muttered and moved past you revealing Tech who made eye contact for a brief second.

“That bad?” You asked and fell into step beside the younger looking clone.

“Well no one was injured, so I think you’d class that as a successful mission. Cid, not so much.”

“Ah,” you understood perfectly. They left you at the bar with Omega and you glanced at her fallen face, wondering how you could cheer her up. “There is a festival tomorrow,” you told her.

“What sort of festival?”

“It’s a celebration of the best things in life. There’s going to be stalls selling special items, different food, they are putting decorations up and I heard, there might even be fireworks.”

“Fireworks??” Her brown eyes shone with wonder.

“Want to come with me?”

“Oh yes! Hunter, can I go with Stitch?” Omega swivelled on her stool and you looked up at the tired group as they all grabbed a drink.

“Go where?” He asked, his tone laced with doubt and you wondered if you should have offered at all.

“Oh it’s nothing…” you tried to gloss over it but once Omega got her teeth into something she didn’t let it drop.

“It’s not nothing! It sounds really cool! There might even be fireworks,” she parroted. “I want to go.”

“You’re talking about the festival, tomorrow?” Echo huffed as he slumped on the other side of you.

“The Festival of Love originated from Endor and has since been recognised in places like Naboo, Coruscant, Ord Mantell and other places. The Festival is to honour kinship and love. Traditions include exchanging gifts, eating meals and…dancing.” Tech lowered his datapad and glanced at the expressions on his brother’s faces.

Echo sighed and turned to look around the bar like he wasn’t even part of this conversation, Wrecker grumbled something about wanting to play dejarik and sidled off. Hunter’s shoulders slouched like he couldn’t think of anything more tedious while Tech had his nose in his datapad, probably scrolling through more facts.

“I don’t mind taking her,” you mumbled.

“You can’t take Omega on your own,” Hunter instantly said, causing Omega to cross her arms and sulk. “Plus we have another mission for Cid tomorrow.” He leaned closer to the little girl and you could see the regret etched on his tattooed face. “I’m sorry, Omega.”

“I never get to see anything fun!” She pushed away from the bar and stormed off to find Wrecker.

“Handled that well,” Echo muttered.

“You could have stepped in,” Hunter shot back hotly.

“May I suggest an alternative?” Tech appeared at your shoulder, taking Omega’s vacant seat.

“You’re going to anyway,” Echo snarked under his breath and you raised an eyebrow but Tech didn’t even notice the other clones' sour tone.

“If it’s Omega running off you’re worried about, I can watch her. I’ll make her wear a tracker.”

“Tech! You can’t put a tracker on a kid!” Hunter nearly spat out his drink in shock and stared incredulously at his brother.

“I can. I have before and she didn’t seem to mind.”

“Did she know?” You asked Tech gently, making him look up from his datapad as he thought about your question.

“Actually, no.”

“I don’t think she should go and it puts us at a disadvantage if Tech stays behind.”

“Not so,” Tech cut across Echo. “You don’t need my particular skill set for this mission.”

“He’s right,” Hunter agreed and Echo just rolled his eyes in response. A strained quiet settled over the group only broken by the sounds of the parlour and Tech’s tapping on his datapad. You clutched your drink, feeling bad that you’d not spoken to Hunter first, of course it was his decision if you took Omega or not. “All right, fine!” Hunter grumbled and then downed his drink. “Plant a tracker on her and do not let her take it off. Plant one on Stitch while you’re at it, we can’t afford to lose her either.”

“Gladly,” Tech blinked owlishly at his own response and his fingers stilled on the screen.

“Well! Now that’s settled I’m going to head back. I’ve had a long day.” You emptied your own cup and slipped off the stool, hoping no one would notice the silly smile you couldn’t suppress at the idea of Tech putting a tracker on you.

“Tech…” Hunter jerked his head in your direction and then went off to find Omega and no doubt tell her the good news about tomorrow.

“Of course.” To your surprise the datapad was put away and he stood, looking at you with an air of expectancy. “You were leaving?” He reminded you, a hint of uncertainty in his voice like he worried he’d missed something.

“You’re coming with me?” Tech swallowed and adjusted his specs as his honeyed brown eyes met yours for just a second.

“Hunter is worried about you walking back at this time. Crime activity has increased by 28 percent in this section and I believe it’s why he wants you and Omega to have an escort tomorrow.”

“Oh.” You stood there stupidly for a second, trying to gather your skittish thoughts. “It’s not necessary,” you eventually managed to say.

“I believe it is.” You couldn’t argue against that so you didn’t protest anymore and he followed you out. The street was almost empty, just a few people with their heads down as they went home. Tech kept a watchful eye, his hand never straying far from his DC-17s. He stayed about half a step behind you almost bumping into you when you stopped at your door.

“Well, we made it.”

“So it would seem. I have yet to check your residence.” You sputtered out a laugh but he only continued to stare at you as he waited for you to admit him.

“You’re serious. Ok, sorry about the mess.” The door opened and the lights came on automatically. You went to go in but he put out an arm to stop you, dropping the visor down over his specs and stalking into your apartment that also doubled as your treatment room.

Your droid woke up at the movement beeping out a greeting, coming forward a few steps before the power seemed to disappear completely from it and you huffed as it slouched lifelessly. Opening the front panel you stared completely clueless at the wires wishing you could afford to get the damn thing fixed.

“The charging ports might need replacing,” Tech announced his arrival from scouting out your place. “I could run a diagnostic if you like?”

“It’s late, you’ve barely been home.”

“Home is a state of mind.”

“Yeah…” he was right. You’d never had a place you could really call home. So home being a feeling rather than a place was the most accurate thing you’d heard in a long time.

“Another time then,” Tech said. “Your place is clear. I shall be back tomorrow with Omega.” He walked towards the door and you followed, desperately wanting to say something else but not sure what.

“Tech…” he turned at the sound of his name and you really tried hard not to gaze directly into his eyes, knowing that made him uncomfortable. “Be careful. On the way back.”

“Always,” he saluted you with two fingers before disappearing round the corner. You closed and locked your door letting out a frustrated sigh. Of all the clones to harbour secret feelings for…

Your droid looked like a patient, laid out on the table with its wires hanging out as you tried to repair it, not wanting to put Tech out. He had better things to do than maintain your equipment. The door alarm sounded and you quickly smoothed down the material of your outfit, your heart fluttering a little at the idea of spending the whole day with Tech. And Omega.

The latter wrapped herself around you as soon as your door opened, her mouth instantly going as she spilled her excitement. You grinned at Tech and his tense expression, beckoning them inside. Omega went straight to your table, standing on a supply crate to have a proper look inside the droid.

“Did she sleep much?” You asked him noticing the way he clutched his datapad and glanced over at the mess your droid was in.

“She slept less than the normal amount,” he informed you matter of factly. “Echo was not amused.”

“Not a lot amuses him at the moment,” you replied dryly.

“Echo believes we should be doing more against the Empire rather than just hiding. He cannot help it.” You hated to admit Tech was right. He seemed completely unruffled by the conversation and you admired his utter acceptance of his brothers.

“Are you ready?”

“Yes!” Omega leapt down and hurried to the door. “Come on! We don’t want to miss anything!” She shouted and you smiled at Tech as he refrained from rolling his eyes.

“I’m not actually sure we can miss an all day event,” Tech called after her. “You forgot this.” You locked your door and turned to find him holding out a tracker on the palm of his hand, the light blinking innocently.

“I don’t think Hunter was serious about one for me,” you half laughed but Tech stayed standing in your way with his hand held out.

“He was. And so am I.” You took the tracker and slipped it into your pocket, Tech lifted his datapad and pressed a few buttons. “Perfect signal.” For some reason that made you so happy that you’d pleased him over something so simple.

“Are you guys coming?” Omega appeared around the corner eyeing you both just standing in your doorway. Tech brought up the rear as you reached for Omega and she clasped your hand eagerly.

The festival wasn’t what you expected at all, it was so much better. The streets were lined with pink and red coloured streamers, all fluttering in the breeze. Bunting stretched from one side of the street to the other and the lights were flickering. You couldn’t wait to get the full effect of it when it was dark.

Omega danced from stall to stall, her excitement contagious and you found yourself caught up in her joy and zest for life. Tech trailed after you both, suffering the chatter, loud noises and heavy crowds. Keeping himself occupied by noting down new facts or recording anything he found remotely interesting.

You happened upon a stall run by a twi’lek, your stomach rumbling at the fresh meilooruns. You approached the stall noticing the usually orange fruit had a purple tinge to the rind. You’d never had this variant before but before you could ask for one Omega was tugging on your hand and dragging you to look at something else.

Soon even Omega was flagging, but her eyes were still wide from all the sights she’d experienced. Her bag was full of trinkets and she’d bought something for each of her brothers. You felt honoured that she had asked for your opinion, enjoying the feeling she instilled inside you. She really was something special.

As darkness fell you suggested getting a good view for the fireworks and began to head in the direction of the seating area when Tech stopped you.

“I have a better place where we can watch the fireworks, away from the crowds.”

“Is it far?” Omega asked, chasing it up with a yawn.

“It’s approximately 0.5 klicks from our current location,” Tech rattled off as he adjusted his specs, the light of the datapad reflected in them.

“I can make it,” she said cheerily but you heard the fatigue in her voice, especially if she had been up early hassling her older brothers.

Now Tech took point, leading you away from the streets where the festival was still in full swing. You wanted to question him but instead you decided to trust him. Tech had never let you down yet. Your interest peaked when he told you to climb an outside staircase. Omega went first with no hesitation, climbing to the top of the seemingly abandoned building and gasping loudly.

“Oh…wow.” You looked up at the sky, mesmerised by the amount of stars that dotted the black sky above you. Tech had led you to a place on the edge of town that wasn’t affected by the lights of the festival, giving you an incredible view of the stars and no doubt the fireworks when they started.

“I calculated the amount of noise and light pollution from the festival. From that I was able to survey an appropriate place where it was quiet and had uninterrupted views.”

“Tech…this is amazing!” You gushed.

“He checked it out last night,” Omega said slyly and Tech looked at her in shock. “What? I was awake when you snuck out. Now I know what you were doing.”

“Clearly I wasn’t as subtle as I thought,” he muttered, reaching to adjust his specs again.

“Oh look! Seats!” Omega dropped her bag and fell into one, turning to wave you over.

“Were these you as well?” You asked Tech quietly.

“The fireworks are supposed to last approximately 15 minutes. I had assumed that by being on your feet all day and chasing Omega, you’d want to rest.”

“You assumed correctly.” Omega had taken the middle seat, cuddling up into you when you settled beside her. Tech sat on the other end, his trusty datapad in his hand as he counted down to the fireworks; and they started exactly when he said they would.

The fireworks were the best moment of the day, filling the sky with glittery flashes that lit up the world all around you. Omega laid her head in your lap and you rested a hand on her side watching the display together. You revelled in the deep bangs that seemed to explode in your chest and the fizzling crackles that popped in your ears. You’d never seen something so eye-catching and you were sorely disappointed when they finished; just a plume of white smoke the only evidence that they had happened at all.

“She’s asleep.” You glanced down at Omega and sure enough her eyes were closed, even breaths passing through her slightly open lips as she lay completely relaxed in your lap. “You’re good with her.”

“You think so?” Biting your lower lip you glanced over at Tech to find him looking at you both with a strange expression on his face that he tried to hide.

“I know so. Due to her nature she is exceptionally accepting but she does seem to favour you.” Gently you swiped some blonde strands out of her peaceful face, regretful that you were going to have to wake her soon.

“I think she’s great and after everything she’s seen and been through…she still has this innocence about her. She’s a credit to you all.”

“I don’t see us having much influence over her,” Tech said and you scoffed at his words.

“She idolises every single one of you.”

“That’s nice to hear,” you turned to find Hunter, Echo and Wrecker coming from behind. Tech stood up and greeted his brothers. Wrecker reached down and plucked the sleeping child from your lap, cradling her in his massive arms.

“Look at her,” he whispered in his gravelly voice. “This is the quietest she’s been for days!”

“Don’t wake her then, Wrecker!” Echo hissed as they made their way carefully down the stairs.

“Was it worth it?” Hunter asked you and the smile that spread over your face told him everything he needed to know.

“Thanks for lending us Tech. He did actually put a tracker on me,” you told Hunter who let out a soft chuckle.

“Good. I’d be having words with him if he didn’t.”

“You know, I’m scrappy. I can look after myself.” Hunter fixed you with a knowing glare and it reminded you so much of Tech for a moment.

“It’s what we do. Anyway we need you, Stitch. More than we like to admit.”

“Medics are everywhere,” you told Hunter with a quick roll of your eyes.

“Not ones, as good as you.” The pair of you stopped and looked back at Tech who came to an abrupt halt. “Well,” he adjusted his specs and lifted his datapad. “Stitch has performed 107 successful repairs on all of us together, the most drastic being my broken femur from the failed mission on Serenno. Not to mention the blaster shot to your chest and Wrecker’s shoulder. Also her continual observation of Echo…” Hunter gave his brother a lopsided smile and clapped him firmly on the shoulder.

“Now you’ve listed her best accomplishments, you can walk her home.” He melted into the shadows suddenly leaving you and Tech alone in the dark.

“Do you know the best route? I’m still not familiar with this part of town,” you admitted shyly.

“It won’t take us long,” he reassured you. The walk was quiet, you weren’t sure what to say to him and your feet were beginning to ache something drastic. You followed Tech onto a street you were familiar with and fished around in your pockets for the tracker.

“I should give this back.”

“Keep it. I have plenty.” Tech said quickly. He glanced at you and then continued. “It’s a modified one, with a panic option that goes straight to my datapad. Should you ever need it.” Your fingers closed round the tracker, suddenly finding it the most precious thing you had.

All too soon your door loomed and the pair of you stood under the small light that flowed on the outside.

“Tech…?”

“Yes?”

“I got you, something.” He watched curiously as you opened your bag and pulled out a small box, taking it gently when you offered it to him. “I hope it’s useful.” He opened the lid and revealed a brand new All-kit tool. The handle had a rubber grip, the alloy shiny from having never been used. At first Tech didn’t say anything, just reaching for the tool and you panicked, thinking you’d got something he really didn’t need. “I’m sorry, I didn’t know if you had one, I’ve never noticed you with one.”

“I don’t,” he interrupted. “I didn’t have one, until now.” He looked up to see the relieved smile cross your face and a small frown appeared on his own. “You shouldn’t be so worried, I am always in need of tools and this…” he pulled it from the box and with a flick began to cycle through the different heads. “It’s immediately my favourite,” he reassured you. “Which reminds me…” he put the box in his bag and extracted something that had you gasping a little. “I saw you looking at these but not actually buy one.” You took the purple fruit from his hand, trying not to over think the fact you both gave a gift during the Festival of Love. He probably didn’t realise the depth of the tradition and you were fine with that. Although out of the whole squad, he’d be the only one to know.

“Tech, thank you so much.” Emotion coloured your tone and you stepped closer to him. Gently resting a hand on his shoulder you made your intentions clear expecting him to pull away. When he didn’t you went ahead and planted a soft kiss on his cheek, breathing him in as you did. He lifted a hand to rest against your elbow, as though he was steadying you both. Your eyes were still closed as you pulled your lips into your mouth, reluctant to move away just yet. Tech’s quick breath fanned over your face as he pressed his forehead against yours. His fingers tightened on your arm and you both stood like that for a moment, just drinking in each other's closeness.

“Tech?” His com lit up with Hunter’s voice and you separated. Clearing your throat you backed up and allowed him to answer, telling Hunter he was all right and was just making his way back.

“Thanks, Tech.” You swallowed down the huskiness in your voice. “For today, for all of it. Get back safely, please.”

“Always,” he said, touching two fingers to his forehead and giving you the casual salute. “I’ll be back tomorrow to fix your droid.” He told you, walking backwards down the street, his gaze still fixed on you.

“I’ll be here,” you answered, leaning on your doorframe and watching him leave.

“I know.”