#i rebloged stuff about them doing it but i’m literally just nodding my head like

[t4tduncney]

ok i know courtney isn't the type to smoke BUT. she had to have shared a joint with duncan just once how do u think that went down

swimmingly. joke it makes her worse. courtney neuroticism 2: electric boogaloo

also i actually have no idea about weed, i’ve never used it, i don’t know what it does. all my knowledge about it comes from my friends and trans servers im in because the transgenders love the stuff apparently

actually for that last reason she is the type to smoke. headcanon debunked

[leahrintarou]

HELLO GIRL HOPE YOU'RE DOING GOOD 😊

i wanted to request for dabi x fem!villain!reader. she loves dabi but he's a brat to her just like himself, like with everyone. and after one mission reader goes somewhere and drinks fuckload of alcohol and she's super lightweight so she's out after one/two shots. and that night she gets like tons of alcohol. so she's obviously drunk and she has no idea what she's doing and she calls dabi. and he cares for her he's just acting this way (i severely believe that he's the guy who falls for someone and IMMEDIATELY had a pushing away mechanism going on because of his past and stuff). and he comes to pick reader up and she's not even able to stand straight. like she's pretty fucked AMD SHE'S A BABY WHEN DRUNK, LIKE LITERALLY WHINING CRYING AND BEING A CUTIE. and he takes her with him and she has few more bottle hidden somewhere with her, and she keeps drinking and he's concerned because she's extra lightweight. but she keeps getting those bottles so he throws one of them out of the moving car window😆 and she's like why would you do that it was a great whiskey (or whatever she can drink). but she's not sad for long because she takes out another bottle, and he does the same thing. and after that she starts crying because it was her last bottle and he's so mean. AND then at night she gets sick because of all that alcohol she has earlier so she's having a huge fever, she feels like dying, so she whines a d cries about her feelings and him rejecting her and she confesses to him and says a lot of stupid things how pretty he it and how good he looks shirtless and stuff like that. AND then next day when she wakes up he teases her about it and she's embarrassed af, but it ends up fluff with him confessing back😊😊❤️❤️❤️

I'M SORRY IT'S SO LONG BUT I HAVE A LOT OF THINGS GOING ON IN MY HEAD AND I DON'T KNOW HOW TO SHORTEN MY THOUGHTS🤣🤣 I'M SORRY 😞 but i still hope you'll write it🥺

✩₊˚.⋆ RELUCTANT HEARTS - dabi/touya todoroki

CW: y/n is drunk, alcohol intoxication, communication issues, y/n's in love but dabi is being dabi, he doesn't know how to talk about his feelings, swearing, reader with she/her pronouns, non-detailed mentions of throwing up, fluff, some angst if u squint tbh.

Word Count: 4.6k

Author's Note: (i'm doing well, anon! :p) i hope you guys enjoy reading! it came out a bit longer than i was planning but oh well lol. leave a like or reblog to support!

the bitter warmth of alcohol lingered on y/n's tongue as she downed yet another shot. she'd long lost count after the eighth, the need for a chaser fading as the taste softened, dulled by her numbing senses. "ma'am, we'll be closing soon," one of the bartenders murmured, the same one who had filled her glass every few minutes without fail.

she nodded, her vision doubling with the motion. nausea crept up on her, and she sighed at the inevitable. a lightweight by nature, she usually capped her nights at fewer than ten shots when drinking alone, but tonight was a different story.

her solo mission had been successful, but not without needless resistance from heroes who showed no mercy. shigaraki had barely scolded her, while dabi took the opportunity to belittle her inefficiency. it wasn’t like her to slip up so badly, but dabi never missed a chance to hold her mistakes over her—so long as they bothered her, he’d never let her forget.

despite her hating the fact that she had to, y/n fumbled with her phone, squinting at the blurry screen before finally locating dabi’s number. her thumb slipped as she pressed call, the dial tone ringing painfully loud in her ear.

“what?” dabi’s voice was sharp, instantly irritated.

“touya…” she slurred, her words tumbling lazily. “i need… i need you to come get me,” she mumbled. there was a pause, then a scoff. “what the hell? you sound trashed. where are you?”

“uh… somewhere,” y/n mumbled, blinking as she tried to get her thoughts straight. “i’m just… out.”

“out? where’s ‘out,’ y/n?” his voice was flat, but she could hear the growing annoyance. “you’re not making any sense.”

“just… come get me,” she groaned, frustration bleeding into her slurred words. “i can’t… i can’t even walk straight.” she glanced down at her lap, where her free hand rested as she twisted the singular ring at the base of her index finger.

dabi snorted. “no shit, you’re drunk off your ass. what are you doing, wandering around aimlessly?”

“not wandering,” she mumbled. “i’m sitting.” a bit of annoyance crept into her voice. apparently, liquor couldn't stop dabi from pissing her off so quickly. “okay, sitting where?” he asked, now sounding both amused and irritated. “what? did you pass out in an alley or something?”

y/n rolled her eyes, which only made her dizziness worse. “ugh, no. i’m in a… bar.”

dabi paused, then let out an exaggerated sigh. “of course. a bar. you’ve gotta be kidding me.”

“just come get me, touya,” she grumbled, her voice slurred but laced with irritation. “unless you want me to blow chunks on someone's shoes. your call.”

he clicked his tongue, clearly frustrated but now understanding the situation. “you’re such a mess, y/n. fine. send me the address.”

“yeah, yeah,” she muttered, fumbling to type it out. “thanks, touya.” she smiled to herself. "knew you'd come through even if you're a dick about it."

"don't push it," he snapped before hanging up. even though he'd put on an act like he didn't care, she knew he'd show up. and, despite himself, so did he.

---

it wasn’t long before the rumble of a car engine cut through the night air outside the bar. y/n groggily looked up as dabi stepped inside, his usual scowl firmly in place as his eyes swept the room. the second he spotted her slumped over in the booth, he shook his head and made his way over.

“seriously?” he grumbled as he stood in front of her, arms crossed. “this is the state you’ve gotten yourself into?”

y/n glanced up at him, her head spinning as she tried to focus. “don’t… don’t start,” she mumbled, her words slurring together. “i’m not in the mood for your shit.”

“too bad. you’re in no position to make demands,” he shot back, leaning down to help her up. he wrapped an arm around her waist, feeling her lean heavily against him. “let’s get you out of here before you make a scene.”

“hey, i can walk,” y/n protested half-heartedly, but the moment she tried to stand, her legs buckled beneath her. dabi’s grip tightened, and he half-dragged her toward the exit.

“yeah, sure you can,” he said dryly, his tone laced with sarcasm. “you’re a real lightweight, you know that?”

“shut up, touya,” she grumbled, though the annoyance in her voice was overshadowed by a hint of affection. “you’re not my dad.”

“wouldn’t dream of it,” he replied, pushing open the passenger door of his car and easing her inside. “but someone has to make sure you don’t drown in your own stupidity.”

“whatever,” y/n muttered as she settled into the seat, her head resting against the window. “i could handle myself fine… if you weren’t so annoying.”

“annoying, huh?” he shot back, sliding into the driver’s seat and giving her a sideways glance. “you know, you called me. but hey, if you wanted my attention, this wasn’t the way to go about it.”

“because you’re the best at picking people up from bars,” she replied, a slight smirk on her lips. but then her expression faltered, and she turned serious. “i… i really appreciate it, you know?”

“don’t get all mushy on me,” he said, rolling his eyes. “it’s not like i’m doing this out of the kindness of my heart. i’ve got a reputation to uphold, and rescuing your drunk ass is just good PR.”

“you’re such a brat,” y/n shot back, though her heart fluttered at his teasing. “i’d like to see you handle it better.”

“please, i wouldn’t be caught dead in a place like this,” he replied, his tone dripping with disdain as he pulled away from the curb. “besides, if i didn’t show up, who else would have to deal with your mess? i’ve got a reputation to uphold, remember?”

“right, because you care so much about your reputation,” she said sarcastically, turning her gaze to the window, watching the city lights blur past. “you’re just here for the free entertainment.”

“entertainment? you think this is funny?” he replied, glancing at her with an eyebrow raised. “watching you stumble around like a newborn deer isn’t exactly my idea of a good time.”

“well, at least i’m amusing,” y/n shot back, trying to hide the smile tugging at her lips. “you should thank me for keeping your life exciting.”

“exciting, huh?” he scoffed. “more like a headache. i’d rather face a horde of heroes than babysit you in a bar.”

“oh, please,” she said, rolling her eyes. “you secretly love it.” y/n reached into the pocket of her hoodie, pulling out the smaller bottle of alcohol she bought earlier.

“love it? not even close,” he replied, his tone dripping with sarcasm. “you’re lucky i have a soft spot for lost causes.”

“lost cause, huh?” she challenged, feeling a rush of emotion she couldn’t quite suppress. she lifted it to her lips, taking a singular swig before it was snatched from her hands. a bit of it dripped down her chin, and dabi rolled his window down before throwing it out. the sound of the glass shattering against the pavement echoed a second later.

"what the hell, touya!" she yelled, using her sleeve to wipe the liquor from her face. "that was mine!" she fussed.

"not anymore," he said flatly, glancing at her before his eyes returned to the road. "you're not drinking any more tonight. it's a miracle you were even able to walk back there."

"you don't get to decide that," she snapped, a flash of anger igniting in her chest as tears pricked her eyes. but deep down, a familiar wave of emotions washed over her, stirring something fragile. "you're such a-"

"a what? a what?" he challenged, cutting her off. "a responsible person? you think i want to see you hurt yourself more than you already have?"

"you don't get it," she said, her voice trembling as her frustration morphed into something more vulnerable. "i don’t want to get it, y/n. stop doing this to yourself if you don't want to paint that image for your name."

“i’m not that bad.”

“keep telling yourself that,” he said, glancing at her as they hit a red light. “but here you are, drunk and needing a ride home.”

“yeah, well…” y/n started, but the warmth of the alcohol mixed with her frustration made her voice waver. “at least you came.”

“you really think that highly of yourself, huh?” he shot back, though there was a hint of something softer in his eyes. “just be grateful i did.” he sighed, running his fingers through his hair. “i am grateful, you jerk,” she said, her voice suddenly small as she looked down at her lap, fiddling with the ring on her finger. “you’re the only one who shows up when i need help.”

“yeah, well, don’t go getting all sappy on me,” he warned, trying to maintain his usual bravado, but the way his eyes softened gave him away. “it’s not like i’m doing this for the accolades.”

“sure, keep pretending you don’t care,” she replied, feeling the warmth of vulnerability creeping in. “but i see through your tough-guy act.” she shrugged.

“whatever,” he said, pulling into her driveway and turning off the engine. “let’s get you inside before you throw up in my car.”

“you just want to get rid of me,” she teased, but there was an undercurrent of something more serious beneath her words.

“you’re not wrong,” he said, smirking as he opened the door for her. “but it’s not because i don’t want you around. it’s just that your idea of a good time and mine are clearly on different planets.”

“how sweet of you, really,” she said dryly, though with a tone of sarcasm. “you’re lucky i’m feeling generous tonight.”

“generous? is that what you’re calling this?” he laughed, helping her out of the car and steadying her as she swayed slightly. “more like a recipe for disaster,” he retorted with a snarky tone. “shut up, touya,” she said, her voice softer now as they walked toward the door. “just… thanks for being here.”

“don’t mention it,” he replied, his tone lightening a bit. “but if you ever do this again, i’m leaving you to fend for yourself.”

“noted,” she said, a little too aware of how much she wished she could reach out and grab his hand, the feelings simmering beneath the surface threatening to spill over. “but you’re going to be there. i know it.”

“yeah, yeah,” he muttered, shaking his head as he watched her fumble with her keys. “just don’t go falling for me or something.”

her heart raced and she stayed silent, making dabi give her a glance that showed him trying to read her expression. she made sure to turn away from him, especially when he called her name. “gonna try to get some sleep,” she quickly said, using the guardrail to get upstairs and to her room.

y/n felt the wave of nausea wash over her as she laid on her bed, the world spinning around her. the bitter warmth of the alcohol still lingered on her tongue, a reminder of the night’s escapades. she groaned softly, squeezing her eyes shut, trying to block out the throbbing in her head. as the room tilted and swayed, she pushed herself up just enough to pull the blankets over her body, seeking comfort in their warmth.

it wasn't long before she heard the familiar sound of the door creaking open. dabi stepped inside, his usual scowl firmly in place as he leaned against the doorframe. “what a sight,” he muttered, glancing around her room. “you look like you’ve been through a blender.”

“thanks for the compliment,” y/n mumbled, her voice barely above a whisper. she felt a bit of embarrassment wash over her as dabi sauntered over and sat on the edge of her bed, pulling out his phone to scroll through it. a part of her wanted to feel grateful, but the way he acted—like he was doing her a favor—was hard to ignore.

---

half an hour ticked by, the silence punctuated only by the sound of his scrolling. but y/n's nausea began to build again, the urge to throw up clawing at her insides like a feral animal. she bit her lip, feeling the heat rise in her throat as she fought against it, but it was no use.

"touya," she whispered, her voice hoarse and shaky. he glanced at her, raising an eyebrow. "hey, you alright?" he asked, but his tone was more sarcastic than concerned.

"not really," she muttered, clutching her stomach. before he could retort, she stumbled toward the bathroom, barely managing to reach the toilet before the contents of her stomach surged forth.

"nice going, genius," dabi called after her, his voice dripping with mockery. "you're really winning at this whole 'not throwing up' thing."

y/n heaved, feeling the world tilt precariously beneath her. the bitter taste of the alcohol mixed with the remnants of her dinner assaulted her senses, and she groaned, tears brimming in her eyes.

dabi was right behind her, his cool presence both annoying and comforting as he knelt beside her. "just breathe, y/n," he murmured, his voice low and steady. "try not to make this a regular thing, okay? i’ve got better things to do than babysit you."

as she gasped for air, she could feel his hand resting gently on her back, and despite his snark, there was a genuine concern in his touch. leaning into his hand, she felt a flicker of gratitude amid the chaos.

finally, the wave of nausea receded, leaving her breathless and trembling. dabi stayed close, waiting until she could lift her head and look at him. "feeling better?" he asked, his tone still laced with sarcasm.

"yeah," she whispered, her voice thick with sleepiness.

y/n felt like a train wreck as she sat hunched over the toilet, the remnants of her night swirling in her stomach like a storm. the bitter warmth of the alcohol lingered, and each heave felt like a betrayal to her body. just when she thought she was done, another wave hit her, and she groaned in frustration.

"seriously?" dabi’s voice cut through the haze, low and unimpressed. he leaned against the bathroom doorframe, arms crossed, his expression somewhere between annoyance and concern. "you’ve got to be the worst drunk i’ve ever seen."

"thanks for the encouragement," she managed, glaring at him with half fury, half exhaustion. "what are you doing here, anyway? i thought you didn’t want to babysit me."

"don’t flatter yourself," he shot back, but there was an undercurrent of something softer in his eyes. "i just didn’t want to deal with you throwing up in my car. that’s a real hassle."

"nice to know my well-being is your top priority," she replied sarcastically, but the dizziness made it hard to keep up her bravado. she stumbled back into her room, leaning against the wall as she caught her breath.

dabi followed, eyeing her critically. "you didn’t answer my question earlier, you know. when i said, 'don’t go falling for me,' you totally dodged that." his tone was light, but there was a seriousness in his gaze.

y/n rolled her eyes, trying to brush it off. "what do you care, anyway? you’re always so mean to me!"

crossing his arms again as he leaned against the wall "you don’t get to deflect now. just tell me, why didn’t you respond?"

"maybe i didn’t think it was worth addressing," she replied, her voice shaky, but his intensity made it hard to dismiss him. "really? because it sounded like you were trying to avoid something," he said, narrowing his gaze.

she let out a frustrated huff, flopping onto her bed. "i don’t know, touya. you make it hard to breathe sometimes. i get that you think you’re being helpful, but your sarcasm feels like a shield. and it hurts because i—"

"what is it, y/n?"

"i can’t help but feel something for you," she blurted out, exasperated. "even though you’re mean and a total brat, i… i like having you around, even when you act like you don’t care. and that just makes me feel more frustrated, like i’m some lost cause."

"y/n," he began, but she wasn’t done.

"you push me away, and i don’t understand why. you’re so pretty and infuriatingly attractive, and i hate that i’m drawn to you, but here we are." she sighed, the weight of her confession pressing heavily on her. "and i’m sorry for being a mess. i really am, but sometimes it feels like you’re the only one who sees me. even if it’s from a distance."

dabi watched her in silence, his expression shifting from annoyance to something deeper. "you think that’s what i’m doing?" he asked finally, a hint of vulnerability creeping into his voice. "pushing you away?"

"maybe," she admitted, feeling the heaviness of the alcohol wrapping around her thoughts. "i don’t know. i just… i feel like every time i try to get closer, you shut me out. it’s like you want to keep me at arm’s length."

he was quiet for a moment, and she could see the gears turning in his head. "and you think i want you to feel like shit?" he asked finally, his tone softer now. "you’re not some joke to me, y/n. you’re just… complicated."

"complicated, huh?" she snorted, her frustration bubbling back to the surface. "that’s one way to put it. you’re so busy being an asshole that you don’t see how much i wish things were different."

"different how?" dabi asked, genuinely intrigued, and for a moment, it felt like she had his full attention.

y/n fidgeted on the bed, her heart racing as she tried to gather her thoughts. "different as in… sometimes i wish you could see me for more than just a nuisance," she said, her voice trembling slightly. "i get that i can be a mess, but it feels like i’m always just… your project to fix."

dabi shifted his weight, an unreadable expression on his face. "you really think i see you that way?" he asked, his tone surprisingly soft.

"i don’t know," she replied, frustration creeping back in. "you’re always so wrapped up in your own world, and it makes me feel like i’m chasing after you for attention. i guess… i just wish you could let me in. i want to be someone you want around, not just someone you tolerate."

he remained silent, watching her with an intensity that made her heart flutter and ache all at once. "you’re not just a project, y/n." he finally said, his voice low. "but you’ve got to understand that i’m not great at this stuff. i’m not the guy who knows how to make things easy."

"yeah, i get that. but…" she sighed, struggling to find the right words. "it’s hard not to feel something more when you’re the one who shows up for me, even when i’m at my lowest. it’s like i can’t help but want you to be part of my life, in every way. and that scares me."

dabi opened his mouth as if to respond, but then fell silent again, letting the weight of her words hang between them. y/n could feel the tears pricking at her eyes, and she quickly wiped them away, not wanting to show that kind of vulnerability. "i’m such a dumbass," she mumbled, forcing a laugh that didn’t reach her eyes. "i shouldn’t be pouring my heart out to you when i’m like this."

"y/n—"

"no, really, forget it," she interrupted, her voice cracking. "i just… i don’t want you to think i’m some lovesick idiot or anything. it’s just hard to ignore what i feel when you’re right here, acting like you don’t care. i’m sorry for being such a mess."

dabi let out a sigh, unable to speak, and only shook his head in frustration. y/n wasn’t the only one at a crossroads. he too knew that there was something up with the way he felt. he always felt it, but the feeling only got stronger when he was around y/n. the feelings brought him confusion, and dabi hated that feeling, hence the reason why he took it out on y/n anytime they were in the same vicinity of one another.

right now, he was failing to realize his true feelings. he failed to point out what it was exactly. he hated the feeling, and as he stared down at y/n, whose eyes were gradually heavying with sleep as stray tears dried, it only worsened.

he knew something was there, and it killed him since he didn’t know what.

---

as the morning light streamed through the curtains, y/n slowly stirred awake on her bed, the remnants of last night flooding her mind like a relentless tide. the dull ache in her head reminded her of the shots she'd had-and the impulsive confession she'd made to dabi. she sat up, rubbing her temples, and glanced around her room, half-expecting to find him sprawled beside her. but the bed was empty, and a wave of relief washed over her.

after a moment, she swung her legs over the side of the bed, the wooden floor cool against her bare feet. y/n took a deep breath, trying to steady her racing thoughts. she stood up, feeling slightly unsteady, and made her way to the bathroom to splash some water on her face and brush the taste of last night's mistakes from her mouth. the cool water helped, but did little to erase the embarrassment now gnawing at her chest.

once she felt somewhat human again, she headed downstairs, the house settling into its usual stillness. glancing into the living room, y/n was surprised to see dabi lying on the couch, still fast asleep. the sight of him made her cringe, her mind replaying fragments of last night's disaster. she sighed, scolding herself as she stepped into the kitchen and set the kettle on the stove.

the kettle's whistle was loud, painfully so, and she cringed, knowing it might wake him. grabbing two mugs from the cabinet, she placed them on the counter, her mind swirling with thoughts of how to navigate the morning ahead. she wanted to avoid him, but the temptation to face him and clear the air was stronger.

while the memories of the night were hazy, she recalled enough to feel mortified-her indirect confession, the sting of tears, and the bitter taste of regret. she felt like a mess, and her pounding headache only confirmed it.

y/n rubbed her eyes, trying to shake the weight of last night's events, but dabi's voice cut through her thoughts.

"morning."

she poured hot water over the tea bags she'd placed in the mugs, nodding in response as she turned to hand him one. his hair was disheveled, his clothes wrinkled, and the remnants of sleep lingered in his eyes. "morning," she muttered quietly.

just as she was about to leave the kitchen, his hand caught her wrist. "what are you doing?"

her gaze avoided his, her usual confidence nowhere to be found until he spoke up again. "about last night-"

"forget about last night," she interrupted, her voice wavering. "i was drunk. didn't mean to say all that bullshit. i'm sorry."

"why are you apologizing?"

"because last night was a complete shit-show. i can't handle my liquor, and i don't even know why i drank so much, but i regret it. i put us in an awkward situation, and i'm sorry for that." she spoke in one hurried breath, not giving him a chance to respond before continuing. "i'm not expecting anything from you out of pity for feelings i know can't be returned. i just... i'm sorry."

she tried to pull away from his grip, but he held her in place. "touya, it's fine. let go. keeping me here, forcing me to face you, is torture."

"you done whining?"

"i'm not whining." her brow furrowed as she finally met his gaze with a glare. he set his tea down on the counter, and before she could react, his hands were on her cheeks, pulling her in close.

"touya..." she whispered cautiously.

"don't freak out."

and with that, his lips were on hers, warm and firm, leaving no room for doubt. it was a rash decision on dabi's part, driven by a feeling he didn't fully understand. but it was real, and for once, he wasn't running from it.

there was no hesitation, no second thoughts, just the warmth of the moment. y/n's hands instinctively gripped his shirt, pulling him closer as their lips moved in sync. dabi's hand slipped to her waist, tugging her toward him until their bodies were pressed together, a sigh escaping his lips.

the kiss broke suddenly, leaving y/n breathless and dabi smirking slightly. "i think that went better than your confession. i win."

"shut up, touya. it's not a competition."

"oh yeah?" he teased, but his voice softened as he let out a deep sigh. for dabi, apologies didn't come naturally. he scratched the back of his neck, avoiding her gaze as he leaned against the counter. "look," he began gruffly, "i'm not good at this. feelings, whatever. you already know that, so don't act surprised."

y/n remained silent, her eyes focused on him, waiting.

"i didn't mean to make you think i didn't care," he continued, clearly struggling with his words. "i just... don't do all the emotional crap. alright?"

the silence between them was palpable, her gaze heavy on him as he clenched his jaw in frustration.

"i don't know what the hell i'm supposed to say. i didn't even realize i was feeling... anything until recently. and you think i know how to handle that?" he laughed dryly, rubbing a hand over his face. "i'm not used to it. but i don't want you thinking i don't give a damn."

finally, he met her eyes, his expression more serious than usual. "i want to be with you. i don't know how to say it right, and i'll probably mess up again, but... i'm not blowing you off. this is just... new for me."

he shoved his hands in his pockets, half-turning as if he were done, but then muttered under his breath, barely loud enough for her to hear, "i care, y/n. more than i thought i could. so... there. happy now?"

it wasn't the most graceful confession, but for dabi, it was as close to vulnerability as y/n had ever seen. and she accepted it, even if she couldn't resist teasing him.

"wow, touya," she said, crossing her arms. "that was almost... cute. maybe you should write a book on feelings. 'how not to apologize 101."

"oh, fuck off, y/n."

with a sudden pull, dabi wrapped an arm around her waist, guiding her toward the couch. "what are we doing?" she asked, stumbling slightly. "barely got any sleep last night because of you," he grumbled, settling back and pulling her onto his chest. "so, we're fixing that." he sighed. "what if i don't want to sleep?"

"you do realize talking to me instead of sleeping is like asking a cat to fetch, right?" he groaned, pulling her closer.

"fine."

"thanks," he muttered, closing his eyes. "and y/n?" his voice was soft now. "hmm?" she questioned.

"i'm shit at communication so i know i don't have the right to say this, but promise me it won't take you getting wasted to tell me something that important again."

"deal."

"no. say you promise."

"i promise, touya."

with a kiss on her forehead, silence fell between them-this time, it was peaceful, a welcome contrast to the chaos of the night before.

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[erinlindsayy]

professor || carol danvers

‧͙⁺˚*･༓☾ . ┊ You're Carol's designated note taker, and usually the one teaching her a few things. What happens when you give her the wrong set of notes?

➺  warnings: dirty talk, spanking, edging, violent use of straps, carol danvers tops (but I fully believe she's a switch now), umm... general unholiness, bratting, etc.

✧   a/n: surprise... I'm back... more content coming soon... I promise I've got a val/carol/r fic coming soon, but this popped into my head and I couldn't resist... JOCK COLLEGE CAROL, OK? JOCK RUGBY COLLEGE CAROL.

↬ like this work? let me know! comments help encourage writers to write more and let them know that you liked what they wrote :)

★ requests are open–I write for a number of fandoms! just ask :)

☆ comments + reblogs are greatly appreciated ☆

���Can any of you attempt to discern meaning from this week’s assigned reading? Why might I have selected this particular work for you all?” asks Professor Valkyrie, starting class for the day. Your hand immediately raises, and she nods in your direction. 

“Well, was not Beckett’s entire point to find meaning in the absence of conventional meaning?” 

Professor Valkyrie, nods. 

‘Interesting thought,” she says. “Care to elaborate?”

“Well,” you begin. “Beckett created a landscape for us that is so alien and foreign, and unlike what we know. The play does not include any symbolic elements, and it does not really go anywhere. You might try to make meaning out of the carrot that Didi and Gogo share, or the leaves appearing on the tree, but they literally mean nothing. At the end of the play--we, as well as Vladimir and Estragon, are all still waiting for Godot. So, in a sense, there is no meaning, but perhaps there is meaning in the fact that there is no intended meaning.” 

“Good,” replies Professor Valkyrie. “As always, a carefully articulated and thoroughly crafted response. Excellent work as usual.” 

You smile politely, and fall back into your seat as Professor Valkyrie continues to lecture about Samuel Beckett and the wonderful nature and reality of Waiting for Godot. 

Meanwhile, you’ve jotted at the top of your notes, in big bold letters ‘I hate this play!’ 

After all, the ability to just to understand and converse about a work of literature does not mean that one has to enjoy it. 

After class, you’re stopped, as usual, by the one and only  Carol Danvers. Resident jock, captain of the division one team, aspiring pilot, rumored sex god extrodinare, Carol Danvers. She’s quite the legend around campus, but not exactly for her work ethic as it pertains to academic pursuits, which are... lacking, to put it politely. 

“Do you have my notes for me,” she asks, holding her hand out. “I need to at least act like I’m going to study tonight, right?” 

You roll your eyes. “Carol, why do you ask for my notes if you never use them? You do realize that mere possession of the notes will not translate into you understanding the material, yes? You have to actually read them in order for the information to enter your head.” 

Your reply is snarky, short and snappy, but you’re fed up with Carol at this point. She asks you for notes in all the classes you share together (which, granted, is not many,) but never seems to read them or take any of her classes very seriously. Carol narrows her eyes at the response. 

“I’ll just sleep on them? Os--” 

You cut her off, finishing her sentence. 

“--mosis does not apply, Carol. You know that. You cannot absorb the material through the pores of your skin. Read the notes, and actually try for once, or stop bothering me. I could be taking notes for myself, rather than focusing on summarizing all of the lectures so that you can stuff them into your bag, never to see the light of day again. Don’t ask me for notes again unless you’re ready to be serious.” 

With that, you hastily pull out a few papers from your bag, not bothering to double check if they were the correct ones or not. You shove the papers into Carol’s and turn away sharply, not bothering to look back. Granted, you were headed in the completely wrong direction, but you weren’t about to give Carol the satisfaction of seeing your face again. 

Of course, Carol knows that you hardly need notes for your own purposes. Summarizing the lectures for her provides you with the information you need to keep your own mind sharp, with years of literary study and reading filling in the blanks to broader context for you. But still, you love to hassle her. Carol does feel guilty occasionally, knowing how much work you put into the notes you take for her. They’re always organized, and you write important little tidbits down in the margins. She always glances at them, but can never bring herself to actually study the notes. 

Tonight is different. Carol is inspired, reenergized by your scathing talk. She sits down at her desk, and finally pulls out the notes you gave her. She reads the first line, and laughs to herself. 

These definitely weren’t the notes she meant to give me, she thinks to herself. 

_______________________________________________________________________

You’re startled out of your evening study session by a loud ding from your phone. Normally, you wouldn’t check your phone in the middle of studying, but you’re intrigued. 

Your jaw drops slightly when you notice that the text is from Carol. 

8:57 hey. I’ve got a question about the notes

You’re shocked. Carol actually... read the notes? 

9:00 Shoot for it. How can I help? 

9:01 Well. The notes weren’t really on Waiting for Godot

9:04 Oh. Did I give you a repeat copy of last weeks’?

9:05 Well, I wouldn’t exactly say that they’re standard academic notes

You roll your eyes at her comment, typing out a harsh response before deleting it and sending a far more cordial reply. 

9:06 Oh? 

9:07 Well, for starters, I don’t think that Waiting for Godot has anything to do with sex. 

Attached to her text is a picture of your recent exploration of the things that turned you on, or as you aptly named it “An empirical study of the things that make me wet.” 

You’d never meant for anyone to see it, ever. It was purely a list of the things that you desperately wanted to try, things you enjoyed watching and reading, various things that interested you. 

You’d written the list mostly as a joke, as a way to get the ideas out of your head. You wondered how it even found your way into your backpack, and you’re ready to curl up into a ball and cry when Carol texts you again. 

9:13 I could help you, you know

9:14 I have a few things that I could teach you

9:15 What do you say we make a deal? 

You swallow thickly, intrigued. 

9:17 What sort of deal? 

9:19 You teach me literature. 

9:21 I’ll fulfill your deepest fantasies. (And take you out on a date ;) )

You blink slowly, unable to process the words appearing on your screen. A date? Lessons in sex? It all seems to be far too much to handle, and you’re not sure if Carol is serious. The prospect is alluring, however, and you can’t help but admit that you’ve had the tiniest (largest) of crushes on Carol ever since you saw her in that signature leather jacket of hers, kicking her legs up against the desk in front of her, even if your feelings were against your better judgment. You knew she was aware of this fact, and the way you were always angry around him for some odd reason. 

9:24 If this is a joke, it isn’t funny, Carol. 

9:30 I’ll pick you up at 7 tomorrow. Be ready. We’re getting pasta.  

__________________________________________________________________________

“So. You want to be a pilot, but now you’re here playing rugby and studying literature?”

Carol shrugs. 

“My best friend Maria and I were supposed to enlist together, but some shit happened and he needed me to stick around. I’ve always been good at rugby even though my dad hated that I played sports, and so I stuck around here. Got a full scholarship for rugby, and put the dream of flying aside. The academy will always be there. It’s not what I wanted, but it’s what Maria needed. I couldn’t just leave her when she needed me most.” 

You smile softly at Carol, shocked by her sudden display of emotion. She’s clearly conflicted, and her eyes drift up to the sky, staring wistfully at the dimming horizon. 

“I think that’s very brave of you, Carol. You’re a really good friend,” you say, reaching out to place a hand atop hers in a sudden burst of confidence. The evening had been oddly pleasant, and conversation flowed between the two of you. Granted, Carol was still somewhat of an egotistical jerk, but she was obviously emotionally conflicted, and she had sacrificed her biggest dream to help her closest friend when she needed it most.  

Carol looks down at your hand, tensing up for a second before flipping her palm to meet yours and giving your hand a quick squeeze. 

“I’m alright, ok? I don’t want you worrying about me.” 

You nod. Carol smiles, and moves to stand up. 

“What do you say we get out of here, and head back to my place? Maybe watch a movie?” 

You smile, nodding at Carol. “I’d like that a lot,” you whisper. “I’d like that.” 

Carol holds her hand out to you, helping you up out of your chair. You move to pull your hand out of hers, assuming she meant to just assist you up, but she holds on firmly as the two of you walk back to her vintage red Mustang. 

The drive back to her apartment is filled with throwbacks from the 90s, widows open and hair wild. You’re both singing the words of the songs obnoxiously, relishing in the sweet freedom of the open night. 

When you finally reach her apartment, your eyes are bright and your hair is messy. You look over at Carol, messy hair strewn about. You begin to laugh uncontrollably, with Carol joining shortly after upon seeing your own windblown look. 

When the laughter finally succeeds, you look over at Carol to find her gazing at you intently. You laugh apprehensively, but Carol’s gaze does not falter.

“Has anyone ever told you you’re beautiful,” she asks. 

You nod your head slowly. “Not really, no.” 

“But you had a boyfriend?” 

You nod. “It wasn’t really the best of situations. I’ve since come to many realizations about myself since then.” 

Carol smiles. “Well, then I guess I’ll just have to tell you as many times as I possibly can to make up for the lack of times you’ve been told that.” 

“Carol, I don’t even know how to respond to that,” you sputter out. 

“So don’t.” 

Carol leans in over the middle of the car, hesitantly pressing her lips against yours in a tender kiss. You’re surprised at first, but you lean into the kiss, melting against her mouth. Your hands tangle in her already messy hair, and you smile against her lips. The kiss intensifies as your hands begin to roam down Carol’s back, fingers itching to explore. She pulls her hands off of you, smiling softly. 

“Let’s head inside, Princess. We can have a lot more fun in my bedroom than we ever will out here.” 

You nod your head, eagerly anticipating the next steps. 

When you reach her apartment, he leads you past the kitchen, flipping on various light switches as she heads through the living room, finally reaching her bedroom. It’s surprisingly neat, with framed photos of her and a woman that you guessed was her friend Maria. There’s a small pin shaped like a sort of star resting atop her desk, with a framed photo of an adorable orange kitten. Her bed is neatly made, and the room is incredibly put together. 

“You like it, huh?” 

You jump, startled by Carol’s voice. 

“Yeah. Um, it’s very nice,” you reply. “Super neat.” 

Carol laughs. 

“Yeah, for all my disorganization at school, I do like to keep my apartment pretty tidy.” 

Carol walks over to her desk and picks up your list. 

“I think this belongs to you, my darling. We don’t have to do anything with it, or even speak of it again should you so wish that to be the case.” 

You bite your lip, considering your options. 

“Were you really serious, Carol?” 

Your heart is beating fast, and your palms are beginning to grow clammy. 

She laughs. 

“Of course I was serious, Princess. Why would I offer if I wasn’t?” 

You look down, mumbling your answer out. 

“I didn’t really think someone like you would ever be interested in someone like me, honestly.” 

Carol laughs, walking over to you. She gently tilts your chin up, meeting your eyes. 

“Hey. You’re smart, you’re beautiful, and you drive me up a wall when you’re yelling at me to fucking finally read your notes, as you so kindly put it in your own words. Of course I would be interested in a girl like you. You’re incredible.” 

She kisses you softly, slipping hers hands underneath your sweater. Breaking away for a second, she whispers to stop her if anything is too much. Green for go, she says. Red for stop. 

Her hands roam up your body, making their way up to your neck. She gently squeezes at the column of your throat, whispering in your ear. 

“I noticed you had this on your list, Princess. I did read your notes this time, and I did study up. I know all the things that could make you tick. And yet, I still want to hear you tell me what you want. You want me to choke you? Squeeze your throat till you’re begging me to stop?” 

“Yes, please,” you moan out. 

“Then use your words, Princess. Mmm... and what else should we do today? What other things from your little list do you want to try? I know you don’t want to start off simple... You even said so yourself. Tell me with your words, Princess. Tell me what you want.” 

You gasp, head tipping back as Carol’s hands resume their exploration of your body. 

“Cat got your tongue, Princess? Normally you’re so vocal during class... Why change now?” 

You moan again, unable to speak properly as Carol’s fingers find your nipples, gently pinching. He pinches harder when you are unable to answer her question. 

Moving hers hand to cup your jaw, he harshly tilts your face to look at him. 

“Answer me, Princess. I’m growing impatient and I don’t have all day. Normally you’re so quick to answer. What a shame.” 

“Put me in my place, please,” you gasp out, voice breaking. “I want you to edge me and spank me and punish me and tell me what a naughty little girl I’ve been, touching myself to the thought of you. I want to eat you out while I’m forced to touch myself, unable to cum without your permission. I want you to choke me as you pound me into the mattress with your cock, reminding me of my place. I want to be your good little girl, moaning only your name as you show me who I belong to.” 

Carol smirks. 

“I’ll be honest—I always knew you had a thing for me. You weren’t exactly discreet. The secret is, I had a thing for you too. I wasn’t expecting you to write about me in your notes, though. And I definitely wasn’t expecting you to write something like that ever. Our little teacher’s pet, our good little girl, the smartest girl in class—and such filthy thoughts! Didn’t take me long to figure out who the mysterious blonde figure was. You wrote some pretty explicit stuff in there, Princess. You’re such a filthy little whore... So many dirty thoughts! Imagine if those notes had fallen into the wrong hands...” 

Carol’s hands dip to the edge of your sweater, swiftly pulling it off of your body. She cocks an eyebrow at you upon seeing the lacy navy blue bodysuit underneath that you’d specifically selected for tonight. 

“Did you wear this just for me?” 

You nod. 

“Good girl. I like the way you think. Now, take off those pants for me. While you’re at it, get rid of that lacey little thing. It’s pretty, but you’re prettier.” 

You obey her quickly, shedding every stitch of clothing from your body. You’re trembling with excitement and anticipation, and you’re nervous as Carol’s eyes rake up and down your body. 

“Stunning,” she says, never taking her eyes off of your body. “You’re absolutely perfect. I can’t wait to teach you how to be a good little slut for me... you’re such a good learner. Wonder if that translates in the bedroom?” 

You groan, rolling your eyes. “Why don’t you shut up and find out already?” 

Carol laughs condescendingly. 

“You sure you want to mouth off like that, Princess?” 

You nod. “You seem to be all talk right now, and no action.” 

Carol growls. “We can change that. I don’t tolerate brats around here. Brats get punished. If you’re a good girl, you get rewarded. Which is it going to be tonight, Princess. I need an answer.” 

You roll your eyes without even thinking. “Just fuck me already, Carol.” 

Carol tangles her hand in your hair, pulling your head back. “I told you that brats get punished. It looks like you've selected the brat role tonight. Get on your fucking hands and knees. I’m not going to ask you a second time.” 

You quickly obey, scrambling onto your hands and knees. You wiggle your ass slightly, but Carol firmly holds it in place. 

“Stop. Now, since this is your first time, I’m going to take it easy on you. We are only going to do ten, but mark my words, if you pull this sort of bratting on me again, I can and will increase that number. Now, I want you to count.”

The first strike comes faster than you were expecting, but it does not hurt as much as you thought it would. 

“One,” you gasp out.

Carol strikes again, harder this time. 

“Two,” you gasp out again.

He continues, hitting a bit harder each time, and your ass is red by the finish. 

“Good girl,” she whispers in the shell of your ear. “You took your first punishment so well for me—it is almost like you were made to do this...” 

She ghosts her fingers lightly over your neck, drifting down to your collarbone before moving her hands to gently massage the soft tissue of your breasts. 

With a gentle slap to your aching ass, she gives you a new set of instructions. 

“Now. For our next lesson, you’re going to suck me off. The better you do, the less edges I’ll give you tonight. I hope you’ve been studying, Princess. Either that, or you just better wish that this comes naturally for you.” 

Carol swiftly pulls her pants and boxers down and throws her shirt to the side, revealing her toned abs and muscled back. You can see her muscles ripple as she stretches her arms above her head to take her shirt off. Your jaw goes slightly slack at the sight of her perfect nude figure.

“Close your mouth, Princess. You’ll catch flies.” 

You blush. “Sorry, Carol. You’re just so beautiful.” 

Carol winks. “I can tell, Princess. Your eyes haven’t left my torso.” 

You giggle, but quickly stop when Carol moves directly in front of you. 

“Test time, Princess. Hope you’ve studied. But, if you haven’t, I’ll allow for retakes. Think of this one as a pretext, if you will. How much do I need to teach you when it comes to this particular subject?” 

You moan at her words, mouth salivating. You’re desperate to touch her, to run your tongue over her strap. Carol leans down to press a quick kiss upon your lips, immediately guiding your face to her strap after. You’re unsure of what to do at first, the feeling foreign upon your tongue. Eventually, you begin to find your rhythm, head bobbing as you introduce a hand to match your rhythm. You continue your tiny kitten licks, timing them with the thrust of your fingers. Carol is silent for the most part, but every so often she breaks her stoic silence with a loud moan or gasp when you hit a particularly sensitive spot against her body. You grind against the pillow that Carol has placed between your legs, annoyed with the lack of friction you got, but thankful to have anything at all. Your tongue continues its way along Carol’s strap, body quivering with pleasure. 

It isn’t long before she’s moaning continuously.

After all, you have always been a very quick learner. 

Carol pulls away, and you whimper at the loss of contact. She messily kisses you, groaning at the taste of herself on your tongue. 

“For your first time, that was surprisingly good.”

You beam in satisfaction.

“However, I’m still going to edge you at least five times.”

You whimper. 

“But Carol—“

“No buts, pretty girl. It’s for your own pleasure, alright? It’s good to practice delayed gratification. Now, get over there on the back of the bed for me. Spread those legs as wide as you can. I want that dripping cunt of yours on display.”

You move off of your pillow, following her instructions. Carol walks over to you, hovering over you on the bed as she cages your body with her arms. 

“I want to hear every moan you make,” she growls. “Don’t hold back on me, Princess.” 

You nod. 

“Yes, Carol.” 

Carol smiles and strokes a single finger through your dripping folds. You shudder. The feeling of her soft fingertips against your throbbing core is heavenly, and you’re unable to hide from the breathless moan that escapes your mouth. 

Carol continues to slide her fingers through the folds of your cunt, relishing in the puffy texture as she explores. Her fingers trace small circles here and there, dipping into your soaking hole when she feels like doing so, pinching your clit, edging you into oblivion. 

You ask her to cum numerous times, but she always pulls away. Finally, she pulls away for the last time. 

“You can cum this time, Princess. But I want to cum on my cock for me like a good little slut, alright? I want you to scream my name for me. Let the whole world know you’re mine now.” 

You nod, moaning at her filthy words. She carefully lines up with you and thrusts in quickly, giving you a chance to adjust to the size and foreign feeling of the cock inside of you. 

When you nod at her, she begins to thrust her hips at an ungodly pace, hitting that perfect spot inside of you that makes your eyes roll into the back of your head. She moves one hand to your clit, rubbing tight little circles over the throbbing organ, and her other hand moves to your throat, lightly pressing down. She’s pushing you into the mattress, firmly grinning the column of your neck as her hips thrust faster and faster. 

“You like it when I choke you? When your brain starts to go a little bit foggy and you can’t tell if it’s from the sex or lack of air? You like it when I tell you what a good little slut you are, taking my cock like such a good little Princess, showing how well you learn and how well you take instruction?”

“Yes,” you manage to gasp out in between moans. “Please, fuck me harder.” 

Although it seemed humanly impossible, Carol managed to fuck you harder. The relentless snap of her hips grew faster, thrusts hitting further and further inside of you each time. The hand rubbing your clit runs faster, harder, and just before you’re about to rip over the edge, Carol whispers in your ear. 

“Cum  for me, Princess. Cum like the good little girl you are.” 

You scream out in ecstasy as you tip over the edge, collapsing against the mattress. Carol pulls out, falling into bed next to you, wrapping her arms around you as she presses kisses to your neck and collarbone, drifting up to your forehead. 

“You did so well, Princess. You’re such a good learner. Looks like you’re just as good in here as you are in a classroom.” 

You smile. 

“I try my best. Honestly, that’s all I can ever do.”

Carol smiles. 

“A good attitude to have. Now, let’s go get you cleaned up.”

A few snacks, some water, and one blissful shower later, you’re dressed in Carol’s old sweatpants and sweatshirt as you climb into bed beside him. She’d invited you to stay the night, and you hadn’t been able to resist. Carol flips the lights off, pressing a delicate, featherlight kiss to your forehead. 

As you lay in bed however, you remember an important fact. 

“I still have to teach you all of literature,” you mumble. 

Carol laughs softly. 

“And I have many things to teach you still, darling. But for now, sleep.”

You smile, closing your eyes as you feel Carol’s grip on you grow stronger. 

Literature could wait until tomorrow.

[plussizefantasia]

CozyTober Day 4: The Smell of Smoke in the Air

Eliot Spencer x reader

wc: 2.7k (this sprinted away from me)

warnings: minor discussion of dv, drinking alcohol

a/n: Eliot is one of those characters that I have to write stories for myself because there isn't very many people who do. So to all the people who love him like me: here ya go! Please Reblog if you enjoyed this so more people can see it too! See you all later for Day 5!

One week… Nate had given the team one week to recoup and recollect after our latest con went sideways.  The grumpy bastard shoos you all out of the brewpub and tells you not to come back for a week or he’ll sick Sophie on you. Hardison and Parker don’t seem to have a problem with it, they jaunt out of the doors, tossing ideas of what to do between them all the while. You distinctly hear Parker mention something about a new vent installation at a museum whose name you can't pronounce. You shake your head but smile. It's nice, that Alec and Parker have each other, someone to share the troubles of this kind of life with. 

“So what you gonna do with your week?” Eliot sidles up next to you, hands you a mug, and joins you in looking out the window into the rain that seems perpetual here.

“Not sure” you shrug, “maybe skip town, visit one of my other apartments?” you shrug and take a sip, chai with a dash of vanilla and cream exactly the way you make it. You’d probably spend the week in Seattle, and check in on your building. You paid for it under a fake name that Hardison was kind enough to put together for you. The penthouse held some of you stuff, decorated and ready to go just in case, and the rest of the building was down-low housing for women who needed it. You had set it up when the team was splitsville after the David job. You suddenly had more money than you knew what to do with and wanted to put some more good into the world. 

“Sounds like a good time.” Eliot sips from his own mug. “Want company?” 

His question is masked with a heavy nonchalance but you know Eliot, better than the rest of the team and maybe even better than himself. You clock the way his eyes dart to the ground and he licks the corner of his mouth. He’s nervous, but trying not to show it.

Silly man, doesn’t he know that spending time with him is all you ever want to do? Doesn’t he know that he’s the reason you stuck around? Sure, working with a man like Nate Ford, and doing good was reason enough, but Eliot- Eliot is who you’d follow to the ends of the earth, Nate Ford be damned. 

“Why not?” You shrug and flash a smirk at him. “We‘ll leave in two hours, I have a pilot who owes me a favor. Unless a private plane is too rich for your blood.” You quirk an eyebrow at him.

“Two hours, see you then.” Eliot winks at you and downs what is left in his mug. He turns and walks away, pushing past the doors and into the brewpub kitchen. 

You let out a sharp breath and smile privately. You shake your head and pull out your phone, you have a call to make.

“Frankie, it’s me. I’m calling in that favor you owe me.”

____ 

Two hours later you are waiting at the runway, a packed duffle on the ground by your feet. You tap your phone against your palm and scan the entrances looking for Eliot. You had texted him the address half an hour ago and he had responded with “;)” which could mean literally anything and you kinda want to hit him for not using actual words. 

Frankie descends from the plane and nods to you, “Ready to go?” he asks, reaching down to grab your duffle. 

“Patience is a virtue, Morales.” You bit your lip and continue looking around for any sign of Eliot. 

You don’t have to wait much longer, the sound of Eliot’s boots hitting the asphalt perks your ears. He is sporting a dark pair of jeans, a red henley, and his leather jacket. His hair pushed back buy the pair of aviators sitting atop his head. He also has a duffle bag, dark brown leather with silver hardware. You can tell that it’s well-loved, how many places has that bag been?

“Not planning on leaving without me were you sweetheart?” Eliot flashes you a disarming smile and comes to a stop in front of you.

“You’re late.” You shoot back.

“Couldn’t find parking.” He shrugs and moves towards the door of the plane, taking the steps two at a time. He peeks his head out from the door and looks down at you, still standing on the runway. “You coming?” He asks.

The plane ride is nice, the two of you talk for some of the six-hour flight. You sleep for a little bit of it, Eliot reads a leatherbound book that you can’t read the name of. It’s peaceful, which isn’t usually the case when it comes to the time you two get to spend together. 

Eventually, you land in Seattle and disembark. Frankie passes you keys as you get off the plane. “This makes us even right?” You nod at him and respond, “Yeah, we’re even. At least until the next time I need to save your ass.” 

He laughs and claps you on the back, radioing to the tower for a refueling tankard so he can head back home. 

You and Eliot walk side by side through the airport, easily locating the Jeep Frankie had arranged for you in the lot. It’s a nice forest green and looks brand new, you’ll have to ask him where he found it. 

“Hop in, it’s another forty-five minutes into the city.” You climb into the driver’s seat and toss your bag in the back.

The car ride is similar to the plane. Talking with Eliot is easy, he embraces low-stakes conversation just as well as he listens to the tougher stuff. 

Eventually, you get into the city and a few minutes later you are pulling into a street lot next to your building. It’s nondescript, blending in easily with the buildings around it. You grab your duffle and Eliot does the same, making your way to the front stoop. You press the buzzer button next to the door and wait a moment before the light flashes green and the e-lock on the door disengages.

Eliot raises an eyebrow at the level of security but you just shake your head at him. “I’ll tell you later.” You mouth. He nods and steps out of the wetness that was Seattle’s downtown and into the space. 

The lobby is sparse and painted a muted grey but it isn’t clinical in a way that neutral spaces can sometimes be. There’s a certain warmth that emanates throughout the whole space. 

You nod your head at the blonde woman sitting behind the desk sitting in the corner.

“Hey Marcy, how are things going?” 

“Good! We’ve moved out three girls and moved in two more.”

“Sounds like a busy month, are you taking time for yourself?” You ask her.

“‘Course I am, in fact, Tommy will be by soon to pick me up so we can go see that new spooky movie in theaters.” 

“Good, well we won’t hold you. Have a good night Marce.”

“You too ma’am.”

You visibly grimace. “I’ve told you to use my name every time you’ve called me ma’am since we met Marcy.”

“You’re my boss, ma’am.” You can see her trying to hide a smile and just laugh lightly before making your way towards the elevator.

“One day Marcy, one day you will use my actual name.” 

Eliot just stands back and takes in the banter, he doesn’t really know how to feel at the moment. You have a whole different life here, with people he doesn’t know and apparently, you’re a boss? What else doesn’t he know about you? He’s excited at the prospect of figuring that out.

“Eliot, are you coming?” You ask him, hand out holding open the elevator doors. 

That spurs him into action and he sends a polite nod to Marcy’s way before following you into the smaller space. 

The ride up is short, only eight floors before you reach the top floor, your floor.

The space is decorated exactly to your taste, this is your favorite place to lay low and he can tell. The space screams you and he can’t wait to spend a week with you here. He’s been trying for literal years to bridge the gap between friends and coworkers to something more but there has always been something in the way. First, it was his own hangups about his past, then it was Moreau. Then the team was under attack, then, then, then. But now... Now was his chance and he would not waste it. 

“I imagine you have questions.” You split the silence, offering him a tumbler of amber liquid.

“A few, what is this place?”

“This place as in my apartment, or this place as in the whole building?”

“Yes.” He takes a sip of the whiskey. It’s deep and oaky, smooth. The way he likes it.

“Well, after Dubenich tried to blow us up I figured I could use a place off the record that I could lay low in if push comes to shove. My share of that job was a lot bigger than I thought it would be so I started looking around. I’ve got places like that all over the globe, five I think. This building though, it’s the only one I have like it.” You make your way to the large couch in the center of the space, it looks both chic and comfy at the same time, and when he sits he’s surprised by the softness. 

“I bought the whole building, it was easier paperwork-wise that way, but I didn’t need the other twenty-four apartments so I started a shelter. I hired Marcy, who has actual experience in that kind of thing, and asked her how much money she would need to keep this place running and stocked. She gave me a number, I added a zero to the end of it and gave her an expense account. I have more money than I know what to do with, but Marcy does, so…” You shrug and take a sip of your own drink.

“Thats … amazing.” Eliot breathes into the space. “You’re amazing.” He says a little louder. “Not many people in your situation would do the same thing.” 

“I’ve done some pretty shitty stuff El. I guess… This is my way of trying to put more good into the world than bad. Like, evening out the scales of karma or something like that.”

“Yeah,” He whispers, “I know what that's like.”

“I know you do, who do you think gave me the idea?” You look at him.

Eliot places his empty glass down on a coaster sitting on the edge of your side table and grabs your own out of your hand, putting in right next to his. He holds your hand in his own. The roughness of his skin brushes nicely against your own. Your eyes track from the point of contact, up his arms, and into his eyes. He’s already staring at you, deeply looking into your own eyes as soon as they make contact. 

“I didn’t think that I deserved nice things. I had done unspeakable things to innocent people. Guys like me don’t get happy endings. Then, you crashed into my life with your soft edges and your witty jokes, and your awful taste in music. You made me want nice things. You made me…” he trailes off.

“Made you what, Eliot?” You search his face for the answers you want.

“You made me hope.” He whispers into the air. 

A smile spreads across your face, soft and filled with all the love you have in your heart for the man in front of you. 

“Good.” You laugh, pulling Eliot’s face into your hand and placing a single delicate kiss on the corner of his lips.

You pull back, only inches away, and scan his face once more. You clock the small scars that paint his face. Places where skin had split and healed and split again. Your eyes trace the curve of his brow, the plushness of his lips, and the shadow of stubble trailing his jawline. Most noticeably though, you watch a flush run up his neck and fill his cheeks. 

Your smile widens. “I don’t think I’ve ever seen you blush before,” you tell him.

“I haven’t.” He laughs.

“I like it.” You kiss the other corner of his lips softly, waiting and wanting for the flush to grow a deeper shade of red.

That second kiss though, spurs Eliot into action, and from one second to the next you are in his lap, as he ravishs your lips. He’s forceful and gentle at the same time, pulling all kinds of feelings from your heart and noises from your throat.

The sun sets.

The sun rises. 

Sometime in between you fall asleep on your couch, you laying between his legs with your head resting on the left side of his chest. His arms wrap loosely around you and his hair forms a halo around his head. 

Somehow you wake before him and manage to slip out of his hold, replacing your body with a pillow in his arms when he begins to stir.

You stand over him for a minute grinning like an idiot at the sight of his chest peeking out between the open buttons of his knit shirt. God, you could get used to waking up to a sight like this. 

You decide with a quick scan of the pantry and fridge that you’ll make pancakes for breakfast, you have a box mix a bottle of oil, and a single unopened bag of chocolate chips. 

You practically dance around your kitchen, mixing the batter, heating a pan, and spooning out enough for the first couple of pancakes. 

—

Eliot wakes up when the sun streams in from the window and casts over his eyes. He takes in his surroundings and smiles his own goofy smile when he remembers what happened the night before. 

Surprising even himself, he recalls more of the conversation between the two of you than anything else that had transpired. You have more in common than he realized, this both soothes his heart and makes it ache at the same time. What had you gone through before meeting the team? What had you done that made you seek your own form of redemption? How could he ease those burdens for you? Could he ease them at all?

He’s brought out his musing by the wafting smell of smoke followed by the loud chirping of the smoke detector. He jumps up from his spot on the couch and follows the smell to the kitchen where his eyes land on you. You’re standing in front of a pan of what he assumes was supposed to be pancakes except they’re charred and stuck to the bottom of the pan.

He swoops in and takes the pan from your hands, kissing you on the cheek as he brushes past you and towards the sink.

“What were you planning to make for breakfast, rocks?” he teases you and chuckles at the pout that spreads across your lips.

“They were supposed to be pancakes.” You glare at him. 

“Sit,” he points at the stools sitting on the other side of your island. “I’ll take over.”

You obey, though not without rolling your eyes. Eliot’ll make better pancakes than you could anyway so it isn’t too much of a loss. Your pride is a small price to pay for amazing food.

You watch him move around the space like he owns it. And you start to think, not for the first time how amazing it would be to have Eliot in your space like this all the time. 

You’re going to enjoy this week. You make a mental note to thank Nate Ford again, then think better of it. He doesn’t need anything else to inflate his ego.

[bearr02]

A/n: small peek into a chapter (idk when, but maybe soon) where mc finds out Yoongi’s a hybrid :)

I wanted to at least post this since I’ve practically disappeared (aside from the random reblogs) for a few months

You find out Yoongi isn’t just a cat

You hum quietly to yourself as you walk up to your front door, pulling out your keys. You pause when you hear Jungkook and Hoseok talking. Of course, that’s common, but what caught you off guard is the third voice you hear.

“Yoongi,” Hoseok sighs, “I know you’re scared but you have to tell her.” You lean closer to the door with furrowed brows. “Why?” Yoongi hisses, “She probably doesn’t want another hybrid to take care of.”

“She’s literally been talking about adopting 2 other hybrids.” Jungkook deadpans, his voice so serious it almost makes you laugh. “B-but.. still!” Yoongi sputters, “I’m nothing like you or those two other hybrids she’s considering adopting. You’re all sweet and cuddly. I just scare people away.”

You frown at the sadness in his voice, slowly unlocking the door so as to not alert them.

But of course. They have hybrid hearing. Even the slightest sound they can hear. “Shit!” Yoongi curses quietly, hurrying down the hall.

You slowly step in, pausing when you see both Jungkook and Hoseok looking at you. “H-hey, Y/n.” Jungkook forces a smile, walking over and hugging you. You hug him back, pulling away after a second, “Where’s Yoongi?” Jungkook freezes.

Hoseok sighs, “He’s in your room.” He purses his lips, “We tried to convince him that you wouldn’t care, but..” He rubs the back of his neck. “He wouldn’t listen?” Hoseok nods. You gently ruffle Jungkook’s hair before walking down the hall.

You slowly push your bedroom door open, finding Yoongi, now in cat form, curled up on your bed, pretending to be asleep. What gives him away is his quick breathing. Also the fact you heard him talking less than 5 minutes ago.

“Yoongi?” You sit down beside him, watching as he tenses up when you say his name. “Guess I can’t call you kitty anymore, huh?” You smile, gently ruffling his fur. Yoongi slowly lifts his head, looking at you.

You can see the fear and uncertainty in his eyes and it breaks your heart. “You don’t have to hide anymore.” You say softly.

He slowly stands and turns toward you, hesitantly rubbing his head against your arm. You gently scratch his head, coaxing him into your lap. He looks up at you, seeing nothing but reassurance and love in your eyes.

He rubs against your arm one last time before jumping down, turning away. You look away as he shifts, wanting to give him privacy.

You hear some shuffling as he gets dressed, turning around when he tells you to. He’s standing, somewhat awkwardly, in front of you, fiddling with his hands.

“Y-you’re not mad.. right?” He looks up at you, his voice quiet and barely audible. “I’m not mad.” You shake your head, “But I do wish you would have told me earlier.” You examine his body, frowning when you notice how skinny he is.

He looks down at himself, pursing his lips, “I-I didn’t get enough nutrition in my cat form..” He shifts, nervous to how you’ll react. “Yoongi..” You scold lightly, “You could have at least eaten when I wasn’t home.” You stand up.

He backs up quickly, his eyes wide, “I-I’m sorry..” He rushes out, his ears falling flat against his head. Your brows furrow and you immediately stop, not wanting to upset him further.

You take a step back and raise your hands in surrender, “No need to apologize.” You sit back on the bed.

Yoongi looks down, fiddling with his hands. You sigh softly, “How about we go out and get you some stuff, yeah? And get you some proper food.” You slowly stand up, not wanting to make any sudden movements and alarm him.

He hesitantly nods, looking up. You smile reassuringly, gesturing to the door. He walks out of the room, looking behind him to make sure you’re following.

A/n: soooooooooo what do we think? Yay? Nay? I’m guessing this’ll be a long chapter (cough, cough-probably3k-5kwords-cough cough), but idk

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[thyme-in-a-bubble]

sunflower, chapter fourteen

summary: how quickly the rose-coloured glasses can be ripped off in the morning

warnings:  playing with each other (handjob and stuff), kinda spit kink?, domestic? dirty talk, praise, doctor kink, food, anxiety, crying, slight meltdown 

word count: 2406

∼ gentle reminder that feedback, but especially reblogs are the way you support writers on here ∽

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Warm soft light streamed through the windows. You rolled over onto your side to look out it, careful not to wake the sleeping figure beside you. It was so calm and serene this early in the morning. The sky looked like a dream. The clouds were a soft pink colour, making them look like cotton candy. 

Since Spencer’s injury, not a day had gone by where you hadn’t slept here at night, in his bed. Surprisingly, it hadn’t been a hard transition and even though he now was technically healed enough to not need your help anymore, you still stayed, not even thinking twice about going back to your own bed. 

Hearing a soft exhale, you felt the mattress move behind you, and then a hand reached out, in search of your body. Catching it with your own, you heard him hum in bliss. Looking at him over your shoulder, you saw him slowly blink his eyes open, still hazy from sleep.

Catching your eye, he smiled, “morning.” 

His voice was extra deep and gravely, having not yet been used to infodump. The sound sent a shiver down your spine.

“Hey,” you replied softly.

“How long have you been awake?”

“Not long,” you smiled, “the sky is so pretty this morning, look,” you nodded over towards the view. 

“Oh waow…” he breathed out, “it looks like that painting you did last month, the one with the river?”

God, he could talk about absolutely anything and make your pussy throb. Taking a sharp inhale, you turned to lie on your back and squirmed lightly at the reaction his rough voice shot through your body. Looking down you giggled and squeezed his hand. 

Changing the subject you asked amidst your giggle, “do you want a hand with that?”

Following your eye line down to see what you were talking about, he chuckled and lifted your hand up to kiss the back of it, “yeah, you’d like that wouldn’t you?”

“I really really would,” you said completely entranced.

Taking a moment to smile at your eagerness, he opened your palm and let the eye contact linger. He let a dollop of his spit fall into it, then lowered it to his groin. Wrapping your hand around his morning wood, slowly beginning to pump it up and down, spreading the lubrication.

He reached his hand out to tug up your shirt, letting your tits spill out, “fuck. How did I get so lucky as to enjoy the privilege of waking up next to you?” palming one lightly. 

Lifting your knees, you breathed out, “oh if you could see yourself right now, there is no doubt that I’m the lucky one.”

Slowly dragging the duvet down, he touched your thigh as you parted them for him. Running his hand over your covered center, he asked, “what if every morning could be just like this?”

Chuckling, you focused your attention on the head of his cock, “what, touching each other first thing in the morning? Sure, I literally live right next door.”

“No, I mean waking up, next to you. What if you lived here?” your movements stopped at his suggestion.

“What?” you let out a breathy chuckle.

“Move in with me,” he asked, then quickly added, “or I could move in with you.”

“You really mean that?” 

“Of course, I do.”

Smiling, you slowly resumed your hand’s movements, “okay.”

“Okay?”

Scooting closer to kiss him, you repeated, “okay.” 

Feeling his fingers dip down under your waistband, you kissed him deeply, though cutting it short by moaning out as he put the perfect amount of pressure on your clit, “I want it to be here, I don’t wanna go back.”

“Yeah, you wanna live here with me, huh?” he smiled, lifting his chin slightly.

“Yes,” you shuttered.

Placed his forehead against yours, “you being here every day since I was shot didn’t give me the desire, it only strengthened it. Now I know for sure that I want you to be the first and the last thing I see every day.”

His words made you pick up your speed on his hard cock. 

“When I get home late from a case, I want to be as quiet as possible so as to not wake you,” he continued. Nuzzling his nose lightly with yours for the extra contact, “I wanna see your things mixed in with mine. I wanna see your toothbrush next to my own. I wanna find that yellow mug all around my apartment because it’s always in use. I want you here, with me.”

Deciding to tease a bit, you mumbled, “be honest, you just don’t wanna go back to having to walk those few steps to my door in order to kiss me,” you began to kiss his jawline, “to touch me,” dancing them down to the good side of his neck, “or to fuck me.”

Keeping his movements locked on your small pearl, not daring to dip down to insert his fingers inside you, “is that what you want? For me to fuck you at any time, any place, now that we live together?” struggling to keep your eyes open, you hummed in conformation, “do you like the idea of me just bending you over no matter where we are? Interrupt whatever you might be doing just to have a taste?” 

Bringing your free hand up to tweak your nipples, you moaned, “please, you can have me whenever you want. I’m yours.”

“Are you gonna tease me too? Walk around the apartment in next to nothing? Purposefully give me that look that makes my mind melt and my cock hard in mere seconds?”

“What look?” you kissed his shoulder.

Grabbing onto your chin, he lifted your head to gaze into your eyes, “that one. Sometimes, still, when you look at me, it’s like that. Cheeks flush, pupils the size of saucers and breathing heavy. Most of the time I don’t even know what I did to deserve that look.”

“Everything you do is like magic to me.”

“Oh, I can a coin appear and disappear as much as you want, you just have to ask,” his genuine offer made you laugh, “what?”

“Only you could find a way to make that actually work as dirty talk.”

“Hey, you started it,” he giggled.

“I was just using the word magic as a way to put into words just how attractive you are to me.”

“Oh, I know, my offer still stands though.” 

“Well, thank you, doctor,” you tried to say as seductively as possible, noticing the stunned expression your words caused him to get, “if living with you means more magic tricks, then I’m happy.”

“Fuck,” he shuttered, “say that again.”

“What, that I like your magic tricks?”

“No, the other thing.”

“Doctor?” you tried and smiled at the obvious shiver it sent down his spine. He nodded and closed his eyes, “isn’t that what everyone calls you?”

Panting, he replied, “it does not sound like that when they say it.”

Biting your lip, trying not to break into laughter at the visceral reaction your words had caused, “do you like it when I call you doctor?”

“Jesus fucking Christ, it should be illegal just how good you make that sound,” he opened his eyes again and kissed you deeply, then whispered against your lips, “please keep playing with your tits like that for me, it looks so good.”

Gliding your hand over to give some attention to the slightly neglected one, you squeezed it, leaning back a bit to give him a good view, “like this, doctor?”

“Yeah,” growled, “fuck, exactly like that baby, I’m so close.”

Tightening your grip ever so slightly, “please, Spencer, please come for me.”

His hips started buckling, and soon his eyes rolled back, letting out a low groan. Keeping your movements up, it wasn’t long before you felt his hand come to slow yours down, too entranced by his expression to stop once he so obviously had finished.

Oversensitive, you kept your hand wrapped around his throbbing dick. You were so close yourself, seeing him like that was almost enough to make you go over the edge.

“Spencer,” you whined, pleating for him to help give you what he had just had the honour of feeling. Taking your hand back, you clutched onto his t-shirt, surely stretching it out. With a long intoxicating exhale, he rolled over to hover on top of you. 

“What is it, Y/n, huh? What do you want?” he slurred, slowing his fingers’ circular motions down just to draw it out longer. 

“I, fuck-, please,”

“Is this what you want?” he cooed, giving you the pressure and speed, you were asking for. You moaned loudly in conformation, now holding him close with both of your hands fisting his shirt. “Please show me how pretty you are when you come. Please show me what I now have the privilege of seeing anytime, anywhere,” you let your eyes close, being right on the edge, “first thing in the morning, in the shower before work, on the couch when I’m reading, in the kitchen, trying your best not to let the distraction make you burn the food. Please show me what I get to look forward to.” 

And when he finally saw it click into place, he praised with a smile, “there you go.”

Slowly stopping his movements, he still kept his hand there, just gently holding you. Nudging his nose against yours, you opened your eyes again and looked up at his blissful expression.

“I love you so much,” he whispered, looking over your features. 

Snaking your hands up, past the fresh pink scar, to hold his face, you brought it down to kiss him sweetly, then replied, “I love you too Spencer.”

Dipping down to hide his face in the crook of your neck, he just stayed there a minute, breathing in your sent, trying to stay in the moment for as long as he could. Meanwhile, you just ran your fingertips up and down his back, soaking in the intimacy as well.

Like all things, the moment came to an end, and he reluctantly crawled off you and stood up.

“You hungry?” he asked as he put on his glasses.

“Starving,” you answered, dreamily looking over your boyfriend as he adjusted his pyjamas back into place. 

Turning around he caught sight of what you were doing and chuckled, “you literally just-… okay, what would you like.”

“Ummm, I’m kinda in the mood for porridge,” you stretched, trying to fight the lovely hormones your orgasm had given you and the urge to just fall back asleep. 

Ripping the covers off, you swung out of bed and pitter-pattered to the kitchen. Looking over your shoulder, you asked, “what do you want?”

Slowly following you, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes, “uh, coffee.”

Raising your eyebrows at him, “and?”

Clearly struggling with the options, usually just opting for his sugary beverage and not a full meal, “you know what, porridge does sound great.”

“Great!” you got out a small pot from the cabinet, “I’ll make some for the both of us.”

“I can help-“

“No,” you injected, “you, my pretty, will sit right there and let me work my magic.”

Doing as you commanded, he sat down on the chair and smiled at your rustling. Then, suddenly your phone rang in the other room. Your hands being full, you asked Spencer to go get it and he happily obliged. 

Handing it to you, you saw who it was and answered it with a smile, “hi Stevie, what’s up?”

“Y/n! you are not going to believe this!” they squealed through the phone.

“What is it, what happened?”

“Jefferson Memorial Art Gallery wants to do an exhibition of your work!”

“They what?”

“They wanna display some of your pieces! Oh, and get a few new ones! Isn’t that amazing?”

“Oh my god, I don’t know what to say.”

“We can talk about it later, I’ll come over and go over everything with you. God, there’s gonna be a party for you and everything!”

“I’ll see you then,” you hung up, completely stunned, not at all believing the news you had just received.

Reading your expression, Spencer asked, “what just happened?”

“I, um, a gallery wants to display my work.”

“Really? That’s amazing!” he beamed. 

“Yeah,” you laughed, shaking your head slightly just to see if you were awake, “this is insane… they wanna show my work, they want new pieces too! And there’s gonna be a party- “you froze at the last words, panic filling your eyes, “there-, there’s gonna be a- “finding his eyes, you choked out, “Spencer.”

His smile instantly disappeared, “okay, it’s okay,” he softly touched your arm.

“No, it’s not!” you cried, reaching out to support yourself on the counter. Fuck, your balance was slipping out of your grasp, “I can’t do that!” you crumbled down on the floor.

Swiftly turning off the stove, he followed you down. 

Finding his hand and holding it tight, now hyperventilating, you repeated, “I can’t do that!” hiding your face in your knees, “I can’t go to a party all by myself? And one in my honour? Then it will be impossible to just hide!”

“You won’t be alone,” he tried to calm you, “your sibling will be there, and so will I.”

Looking up at him with red eyes, “you will?”

“Of course, I will. And not just because I love your work and wanna celebrate this incredible thing, but if you want me there, if that could somehow make it even just a little better, then I will. I love you.”

“I guess if I could just hide behind you all night, it might be a little easier. You’d really do that? What if you have a case? You’ll probably be back at work by then.”

“Y/n, I will be there. If it helps you, then I’ll be there. But even so, it’s completely alright for you not to go,” placing a hand on your knee, drawing soothing circles with his thumb. 

Exhaling deeply, you decided, “no, I should be there. This is a huge thing, I should participate.”

“We can come up with a plan?” he suggested, running his palm up and down your shin, “how to make it easier and what to do if you wanna get out of there.”

Wiping your cheeks, “yeah, that’s a good idea.”

next chapter

© 2022 thyme-in-a-bubble 

[imgoingtocrash]

Thoughts on Rebelcaptain & Velcinta: Jyn and Cinta would definitely be best buddies who look at people with their murderous eyes but are big softies with the ones they love. Cinta would tell Jyn the Cassian’s embarrassing stories like girl I can’t believe you’re in love with him and Jyn is like hahah girl me neither- WAIT NO NO NO I’M NOT IN LOVE WITH HIM!!! (the denial era) Meanwhile Vel and Cassian are the ones who try to look responsible and professional but have lots of private jokes between them (and of course Vel loves to tease him with the way he acts around Jyn like hey Cassian can you stop acting like a teenager in love for 1 minute and focus on the job please)

First off anon I am SO HAPPY you came to me with all of these thoughts. People reblogging my post with vigorous head-nodding about Rebelcaptain and VelCinta interactions has been the best. They all live and are happy because we said so, your honor. It’s making me think about the possibilities even more. (If I didn’t have writer’s block for the past year, I’d be writing fic about it, I know it!!!)

My favorite part of comparing these relationships is that they’re similar dynamics but different people.

Like yes Jyn and Cinta are the more obviously violent ones BUT they do it differently! Jyn has never met an explosion she doesn’t like to watch and also start. She CAN be quiet and lethal but that’s not always typical for a Rogue One mission lmao. Meanwhile, Cinta definitely learned the quickest, quietest ways to kill. (Even when those events have definitely impacted her psyche over the years, like the kill she makes in the season finale.)

Jyn will obnoxiously and loudly say I AM NOT IN LOVE WITH CASSIAN SHUT UP to cover her feelings while Cinta is just plainly like “Vel is the love of my life.” and then moves on like YES they’re bonding they’re dishing they’re braiding each other’s hair while discussing blaster models, it’s beautiful!!

Similarly what I cut out of that original post idea because I couldn’t phrase it in a simple way was that I think it would be very fun if, because of how Cassian barged into her life and mission, Vel is competitive as hell with him.

She spent YEARS flitting in and out of the Coruscant world of fake laughs and weird champagne and dealing with her dumbass cousin-in-law’s comments for this Rebellion and Cassian just WALTZES IN and not only helps the mission succeed but instantly kills Skeen for trying to take the loot and leave them for dead. And after spending months trying to find his stupid ass…he willingly joins Intelligence as is an incredibly useful contributor and eventually takes part in an integral mission to the Rebellion’s success. And also he’s kind of great to have as a partner on a mission but it will take her literal years to admit that to anyone willingly.

(This is also a rant she tells to Cinta at some point in the confines of their bunk.)

And from Cassian’s POV he’s constantly trying to prove himself to Vel because of that! She’s been in this fight longer, technically, (Let’s not get into the fanon vs. canon backstory stuff rn for the sake of me keeping this weird fangirl rant straight) and he’s like Hell Yes teach me your spy tricks and also I will never stab you in the back again EVER.

For some reason the scene has come into my head of Vel teaching Cassian some kind of fancy Waltz or whatever for a mission and she’s like If You Step On My Toes Again I Will Stab You but also they’re kind of having fun and getting along because spy-ing is what they both do best and creating a cover and all that comes with it is probably their mutual catnip. They’re like…vitriolic buds.

But also…she fell hard for Cinta. Like she wasn’t prepared to find love in the middle of this war and you can see how much she struggles with balancing that and the mission in-series. So I agree, she would probably be like: Cassian. You don’t know how long you have. If you like her just fucking SAY IT. I promise that it’s worth the risk in the end.

And it’s probably the most emotionally honest and personal with him that she’s ever been in their friendship-of-sorts-thing that they have, so he takes it to heart. But also he’s like “You two have been together as long as I’ve known you and you STILL look at Cinta like that, what’s your excuse?” and Vel immediately starts talking about how she she wishes she’d dropped his ass into the dirt when they met, he’s SUCH a pain. 🙄

The way I don’t think the actual series will do this for them and I just pulled all of this out of my butt but I love the idea of it…yeah. That’s a nice little dynamic thing we’ve got going here. It’s so much fun to think about. I love it. 🥹

[grahamcarmen]

Little rant but I saw a semi recent post about how RedCrackle is weird cause Carmen mentioned how she sees Graham as a big brother and that shipping them is weird cause if the brother/sister dynamic and I’m like……. Why are people still arguing if it’s okay to ship TWO NON RELATED ADULTS 😭 almost been three years since the show ended and peope still think redcrackle is like Reylo or like pro ships😭😭😭 I could literally write a page on why RedCrackle is the ship that makes the most sense out of the show but I digress

Ok

A) if you ever mind *-* I would like to hear why you like red crackle ! I like hearing why other people like them :3

B)...yeah ok I'm ...always beyond frustrated that this still is a thing.

And I try not to touch on it too much because other people have already mentioned why that its not SooOoo weird to consider them romantically :/. and I like them kissing endgame so that usually all I have to say about it most of the time.

Most people don't. I really do.

And I've Reblogged from people who already said 🤨? For me . [Including nodding my head at a couple people who waaay back in s1 !who didn't even ship RC! react like "oh ok siblingless behavior" to comments like that+ arguments that usually *he's like a brother* can be used as a "we are close" statement for the moment when those feeling actually might change ex: see pam from the office]

But like if you don't like even a wiff of that type of connection implication happening with your ships? It squicks ya out that happening in ANY point of the dynamic ? Toeachandallthat

However repeating the 2 cents today. ITS A CANON THING THAT CARMEN WAS PUT IN A SITUATION WHERE GRAY LOOKS HER UP AND DOWN AND THINKS SHES ATTRACTIVE AND ASKS HER OUT ON A DATE AND SHE ALMOST GOES. ITS NOT A FANON THING. ITS LITERALLY AN EPISODE.

They are not related!! Hence. "Like" a brother. Not brother. And him acting friendly to her for a year doesn't make them related. [💀dude...a single year?]

And both of those times are an acknowledgment of what their Past dynamic was before

A) he was revealed to have completely different values than her [but she still has hope for him even tho looking up to him is over]

B) the possibility of reconciliation was presented as a possibly romantic one.

" before he was crackle he was gray and gray was like a big brother to me, I thought I lost him for good but this could be...i don't know... some sort of do over., a second chance?"

Everything about that do over is slightly romantic tinged and carmen KNOWS. And her eyes still light up ala 🥺

AAAAAAAANd for good measure she slips up and apologizes to GRAY for standing him up on the date with soft smile which im inclined to think is as genuine as the grimace when he reminds her that GRAY didn't ask her out. Graham did.

I'm not gonna pretend she fell right then and there but the possibility does not disgust her. She even flirts a bit back.

Thats not what hinders her.

vile having him does.

💀like idk why its so hard to accept the fact of some people liking that it might change because the original dynamic already HAS changed and if they even want to be friends later they need to parse out a lot of stuff. Its like not as simple as this is what they were and always should be. Even after literally everything that has happened.

And even the show makes carmen acknowledge that in the Himalayas when she doesn't get her [ skip ahead ]. Its more complicated than that. The people and emotions involved are more complicated than that.

And Hey ! HI! Gray does end the series with romantic feelings for her just not really the confidence that she would want to see him again.

So like...don't ship them idc but like the idea of romance in the carmen/gray dynamic was a show thing, they're both adults , not related , KNOW what they were to each other and have peeked at what they MIGHT be while bringing it up TWICE [ at the himalayas/ and a flashback when she's regaining her memories] so 🤷‍♀️ like idk why the surprise that some people hope it does go in that direction

[berenwrites]

Beyond the Battle - Chapter 44 - Stranger Things - Steddie

Beyond the Battle­: Action & Consequence

Click here for All Posted Chapters

Summary: Steve hits things with a bat or gets hit depending on who you ask. He definitely does not have anything to do with the psychic stuff. That is El’s domain. However, as Vecna is defeated, the rules change.

Pairing: steddie (Steve Harrington/Eddie Munson)

Other Relationships: Steve & Robin, Steve & Dustin, Eddie & Dustin

Rating: Teen

A/N: Multi-chapter story, updated regularly. Honestly not sure how many chapters it will have yet because it's still a bit hand wavy in the middle, but definitely more than 12. Thank you to my beta for find my mistakes and to all those who read/like/reblog.💖 Follow #st:beyond-the-battle for updates.

Also on AO3

Chapter 44. Panic Over?

How he got through breakfast Steve would never know, especially after Robin appeared and kept giving him looks. Clearly, he was not doing as well as he thought, but it wasn’t like he could just ditch when there were guests in the house.

However, the moment breakfast was done, Steve hightailed it to his room with Robin and Eddie close behind. He sat on the bed, doing his best not to overthink himself into a hole.

“Okay, what am I missing?” Robin asked the moment his door was closed.

“I think my mom suspects about me and Eddie,” Steve blurted out as Eddie came and sat next to him.

“Holy crap,” Robin said, sitting down on his other side. “Are you okay? What did she say? Are you sure?”

“Steve, tell me if I’m reading this wrong, but I think she was trying to be supportive,” Eddie added.

Steve nodded.

“Well, that’s good,” Robin said, “that’s great … um … isn’t it?”

“Yeah,” he replied, sounding kind of unsure.

It wasn’t that he didn’t want his mum knowing and being okay with it, it was just all the doubts crowding in the back of his head that were doing a number on him. What if they were wrong? What if his mom had just been talking and didn’t have a clue about him and Eddie? Too many what ifs.

“I think,” he added.

Robin took his hand.

“Tell me everything,” she said.

“Turns out I have lesbian aunts,” he said, because it was the first thing that leapt into his head.

Robin’s eyes went big and round and for a moment she looked like she might be having a heart attack.

“Well not actual aunts, but I’ve always called them Aunt Marie and Auntie Annie,” he explained. “God I am so stupid. I never … not even after you came out to me … it never occurred to me.”

“Stevie,” Eddie said, since Robin still seemed to be processing, “when we grow up believing something, we don’t always question it. Your mom literally said, they pretend to just be friends to a lot of people. When did you last see them?”

“About six years ago, I think,” he replied. “They came to visit. They stayed in separate rooms.”

“Yeah, well this is Indiana,” Robin said. “Safest for them, safest for you.”

“I hate they thought they had to hide it from me,” he said quietly, “and they were probably right.”

“No, stop right there,” Robin told him firmly. “I came out to you, and you were nothing but sweet.”

“Yeah, but that was after the Upside Down and Russians, that was after King Steve,” he pointed out.

“And that didn’t all just give you a personality transplant,” Robin insisted. “Maybe it made you think and reassess a few things, but you didn’t just become a different person. It would probably have shocked your socks off, but you wouldn’t have done anything bad.”

Her faith in him was gratifying, but he wasn’t sure he completely believed her. He might not have done anything deliberately, but he’d been a stupid kid. Getting drunk and blurting it all out to Tommy and Carol being one distinct possibility.

“She’s right,” Eddie said from his other side. “You were a bit of a dick at times, but you were never outright mean. If you had been an asshole like Billy Hargrove, I never could have fallen for you.”

“So, back to the point, you have lesbian kind-of-aunts and you mom brought them up at breakfast?” Robin asked.

Steve nodded and began to explain the whole backstory of breakups and girlfriends and falling in love, with Eddie adding in the odd comment.

“Yeah,” Robin said when he finally finished, “must agree with Eddie, I think that was your mom letting you know she’ll be there for you if there’s something you need to tell her. The whole ‘shining example of how love is always right’ part was about as subtle as a brick through a window.”

“So, what do I do?” he asked, because his thoughts were all over the place.

“What do you want to do?” Robin asked.

“I don’t know,” he said, a little bit louder than he had intended to.

“Do you want to talk to her?” Eddie suggested gently, rubbing the back of his hand.

“Yes,” he replied immediately, “but no. God why am I so scared?”

“Because this is scary,” Robin replied. “You have no idea how many times I have played over possible scenarios of coming out to my parents in my head. Most of them are trainwrecks because it’s a really, really scary thing.”

“The scariest,” Eddie agreed. “When I came out to Wayne, I had a bag packed and was ready to make a run for it.”

“What happened?” Robin asked, just before Steve blurted out something similar.

“He hugged me and told me he didn’t care who I loved as long as I was happy,” Eddie explained. “Then he sat me down and gave me the most embarrassing sex talk, I nearly died. I had no idea Wayne knew anything about gay sex, but I guess I must have been giving off some signals, because he had pamphlets.”

“Oh my god,” Robin said with a smile. “I love your uncle more the more I hear about him.”

“My mother better not have pamphlets,” was what came out of Steve’s mouth.

“She’d probably get your dad to do that part,” Robin commented.

“Oh god no, that would be worse,” Steve said, shaking his head. “Mom had to do the whole birds and the bees talk because when Dad tried, he was so awkward about it.”

“Think we might be a bit beyond the safe sex talk anyway,” Eddie commented.

Robin’s gaze flicked between them.

“So have you two..?” she asked.

“I wish,” Steve said, before his brain caught up with his mouth.

His face heated up quickly.

“What Steve is so eloquently trying to say, is no, we haven’t gone all the way yet, but we’ve done more than kissing,” Eddie revealed, “and if you want more details, you can ask Steve when I am not in hearing range.”

At least Eddie’s cheeks were flaming as well.

“So, back to my mom,” Steve said before the conversation could get any more awkward.

“You should talk to her,” Robin said confidently, “but you don’t have to do it right now. If you need time, you can take it.”

“I think this morning might have been your mom’s way to give you an opening,” Eddie added. “That’s probably why she didn’t just come out and say it directly. She doesn’t want to push you.”

“What about you?” Steve asked, looking his boyfriend in the eye.

“Well, I’m kind of terrified your mom might give me a shovel talk to end all shovel talks, because your mom is scary as hell, but I can cope with that,” Eddie replied, leaning into him for a moment. “This is about you, not me. So, whatever you need is okay by me.”

Steve took a deep breath and squeezed Eddie’s hand.

He had never thought about coming out to his mom or his dad, it just wasn’t something he had considered, given how long he had known he had anything to come out about. Maybe in the back of his mind there had been a vague idea, but it had been an amorphous thing. He’d more thought about revealing him and Eddie to the party than to his parents. The last few days had been such a whirlwind on top of weeks of upheaval that it was all a bit much.

“I’ll talk to her,” he decided as he let himself process it all, “but maybe not today.”

“If you need backup,” Eddie said, “I’m always here.”

“Me too,” Robin agreed.

“When you do decide, let me know and I’ll talk to Wayne too,” Eddie added. “He’s far too observant for his own good so probably has us pegged already, but it couldn’t hurt to have another adult who can vouch for the fact I’m not a serial killer.”

“My mom already thinks your adorable,” Steve replied.

He gave them both a smile, dropping their hands and pulling them both into a three-way hug. This was something he was pretty sure he had to do by himself, but he was grateful for their supports.

~*~

When they had come back downstairs after Steve’s freakout, his mom had been perfectly normal, entertaining Robin’s parents and even inviting them to stay for lunch so they could all watch the press conference together. It was due at one pm.

Steve spent the morning with Eddie and Robin, going through their packets of cover story information and discussing it between them. Owens had provided them with an outline, enough to answer questions if anyone threw some at them, but Eddie was a consummate storyteller. As they talked it through, he came up with details they could use to sell it more, which in turn inspired Robin and Steve to come up with their own too. It helped solidify the story in Steve’s head as they fleshed their interactions out a little.

Eddie suggested they get all the kids together to do the same thing at some point, and he could only agree.

He helped his mom put together a light lunch around midday and he was perched on the arm of one of the couches next to Robin with Eddie beside her and Wayne in the last seat, while his mom and Robin’s parents took up the other couch and his dad had an armchair. They had the TV on, on the local news station, but had it turned down for now.

Steve wasn’t sure why he was nervous, but from the way Robin was gripping his hand, he was pretty sure he wasn’t the only one. He wished he could have been holding Eddie’s hand as well, but Wayne seemed to be doing a good job of that.

The cover story was thorough, clever, and covered all the bases. It made them all out to be heroes, which made Steve feel a little uncomfortable, but he understood why. This was to protect them from shady government types by making everyone remember them. He didn’t feel like a hero though. He never had. He’d done what he had to do and that was just the way he saw it.

In his opinion, heroes were people who chose to be soldiers or firefighters or doctors, he’d just been thrown into it every time.

“Here it comes,” Robin said, pointing at the screen.

Steve’s dad turned up the volume.

“And now we go live to Hawkins and our reporter Denise Wellman,” the anchor was saying.

“Thanks, John,” a woman with a microphone, standing in front of the ruins of the town hall said. “Hawkins has been the site of some very strange and tragic happenings since the end of March, but we have been led to believe that these are linked to other incidents which have plagued the town. We are just waiting for law enforcement representatives to begin the press conference.”

Denise went on for a little longer, going over the recent earthquake, the murders and more as she filled in while activity started on the platform behind her. Steve tuned most of it out, just watching as familiar faces appeared on the small stage that had been built for the purpose. Hopper was wearing a suit, which just looked bizarre to Steve.

“Hop scrubs up well,” Eddie commented.

The reporter lowered her microphone as the camera panned away from her and focused on the group of people on the stage. Hopper was in the front, with Owens just behind his left shoulder and Chief Powell behind his right.

“Good afternoon,” Hopper began as silence fell. “Thank you all for coming today. My name is Jim Hopper and many of you will know me as the ex-chief of Hawkins’ police. I’ve been officially dead since the summer of last year, but I will get to that later. I stand here today as a representative of the government and of our town. I know everyone has questions, but I will take them at the end as I have a prepared statement and I thank you for your patience.”

He looked round at his audience with a grave expression on his face.

“Our town had been under a shadow for several years,” Hopper went on. “The first incident which alerted us to this was the disappearance of Will Byers, but unfortunately it goes back further than that. Until now, we were unable to reveal the truth because of an ongoing investigation, but that is now complete. Hawkins had been at the centre of a very dangerous international drug ring.”

A murmur went round the gathered crowd at that.

“A new and incredibly dangerous drug came to the notice of the federal government four years ago, one no one had ever seen before,” Hopper went on. “It was known only as Vecna on the underground scene, and it could be deadly with only one use. No one could figure out where it was coming from. What no one realised at the time was the fact the group behind it were highly organised, from countries all around the world, and had government contacts in those countries.”

“There were no clues until the disappearance of Will Byers. He was the first victim in Hawkins. We believe he saw something he was not supposed to, was exposed to the drug, and left for dead. That he was found by his family and friends and survived is a miracle. Unfortunately, he could not recall what he had seen.”

“Barbara Holland was not so lucky.”

Hopper paused to give the reporters and towns people time to digest that. Steve closed his eyes for a second as that night flashed behind his eyes. He still couldn’t shake the guilt. Robin rubbed his hand.

“Hawkins Lab was being used by its head scientist Dr Martin Brenner and a few select members of his team to manufacture Vecna type 1. Every disaster this town has seen since has been caused by the same source,” Hopper continued. “The accident at the lab which caused its closure and the hallucinations among people in town, the Starcourt mall fire, the murders of our children, and the earthquake.”

“Each of these was the drug cartel attempting to take over our town. They caused the accident at the lab and a chemical leak to drive the government presence out of Hawkins. They built Starcourt mall with the help of Mayor Kline, burning it down to cover their tracks when they were discovered. And their secret, illegal mine under our town, and their testing of their drug on our kids caused everything this year. It has been terrible, but it could have been so much worse.”

“I was recruited by the DEA in 1985 to help them figure out if there were still any cartel agents in town by playing at being a cop who would look the other way for enough cash,” Hopper explained. “And when the mall was torched, I had a chance to go deeper into the cartel. I’ve been undercover since. However, and I cannot stress this enough, we owe our town not to government law enforcement, but to a group of kids and young adults. They are why this town is not a battle ground, and the incident in Lock Nora a few days ago was the cartel’s attempt at revenge.”

The noise from the crowd became much louder and Hopper had to hold up his hand to quiet it down.

“I know that sounds fantastic,” Hopper told everyone, “but it’s the truth. After Will Byers’ brush with death, his friends, his family and those closely associated with them became hypervigilant. These kids don’t let anything get past them. It wasn’t the DEA or the FBI who figured out Starcourt was a front, it was these kids. It wasn’t the government who discovered the illegal mine under the town, it was these kids. Without them, the damage to our town would have been far worse. It was their quick thinking, their heroism which prevented a far bigger explosion that would have turned most of this town to ash.”

“Who are these kids?” someone called out.

“I’ll get to that,” Hopper promised. “First there are a few things you must understand. Hawkins was targeted originally because there is a rare mineral under our feet the cartel needed to produce their new designer drug. The earthquake was their mine going up in flames and the heat opening fissures to the surface. The fissures closed once the fire finally burned out. There was also an underground storage facility of other chemicals which had they burned would have caused an explosion that would have taken out the whole town.”

“The three murders this spring were the cartel testing out Vecna 3.0,” Hopper went on. “They targeted innocent high school kids by doctoring ordinary prescription medication. The drug causes catastrophic seizures and contortions when ingested at too high a dose and can cause psychosis at lower levels.”

“So there was no serial killer?” someone asked.

“No,” Hopper replied. “These innocent victims were targeted by faceless scientists with no conscience.”

“What about Eddie Munson?” another bright spark piped up.

Steve’s heart beat harder at that, even though he already knew what was coming.

“Okay, let’s talk about Eddie. Eddie is the opposite to the lies and slander that have been spread about him,” Hopper said in a tone that begged someone to argue with him so he could punch their lights out. “Everyone in Hawkins knows Eddie used to sell weed. More than a few of you have bought from him. What you don’t know is when he heard whispers about a new dangerous drug making its way into Hawkins, he came to me, way before I was recruited by the DEA. He even deliberately failed to graduate the second time so he could keep an eye on what was going on at Hawkins High. He was also my only contact with the outside while I was undercover.”

“No one is ever going to believe that,” Eddie muttered, the first person to do more than breathe as they watched.

“If I didn’t know the truth, I’d believe it,” Robin said quietly.

“Eddie nearly died trying to get the word out about the mine when he found out about it,” Hopper went on.

“Where were you?” someone asked.

“Chicago,” Hopper replied. “We didn’t know why Hawkins was a focus until we knew about the mine. It’s the puzzle piece that made the picture make sense. After Starcourt we thought the cartel were only mildly interested in Hawkins anymore. Eddie would have died if it wasn’t for his friends, who also happen to be friends of Will Byers. The kids I am talking about are Robin Buckley, Will and Jonathan Byers, Gareth Emerson, Argyle Franco, Steve Harrington, Dustin Henderson, my daughter, Jane Hopper, Jeff Newton, Max Mayfield, Lucas and Erica Sinclair, Frank Thomas, and Mike and Nancy Wheeler. Some of them have been involved since the beginning, some only more recently, but they have all saved this town.”

“When Eddie went to ground and was taken captive by the cartel, these kids went looking for him,” Hopper told the enrapt crowd. “Just like when they heard coded messages at Starcourt mall they went looking too. They found Eddie, got him out and together they all prevented the explosives in the chemical storage facility from going up. Without them this whole area would be a crater. There was also information in the facility which allowed the DEA and other organisations to finally close in on the puppet masters in the cartel. We owe so many lives, local and international, to a bunch of very brave kids, and several of them wear the scars to prove it.”

Steve’s hand went to his neck without his conscious consent. Hopper made it sound like a badge of honour.

“There are more details in the press packs,” Hopper said as he wound up his explanation. “Now I will take questions.”

A barrage of sound came from the reporters and members of the public in the crowd and Steve’s dad turned down the volume.

“Who knew Hopper could be more dramatic than me,” Eddie commented.

 “Maybe he’s a closet thespian,” Robin said in kind.

“Closet what?” Steve asked.

“Actor,” Eddie said without the remotest hesitation.

“Well, he’s definitely got my vote,” he replied. “I would have believed every word he said.”

He couldn’t help noticing that all their parental figures were looking at them a little bit strangely. Possibly their coping mechanisms were showing.

End of Chapter 44

Chapter 45

[professorrw]

Cheerleader Pt. 5

☆stranger things masterlist☆

Pairing: female reader x Eddie Munson

Summary: Y/n and Chrissy are best friends, but when she dies, she knows things aren’t as everyone seems to think. Maybe Eddie is innocent.

Warnings: SPOILERS for ST4, teen drinking, partying, drugs, death, violence, cursing, fluff, potentially more

A/N: I literally spoiled you guys with this chapter. It's just Eddie and the reader and there is FLUFF. It's also twice as long as the other parts so you're welcome. Requests open (Stranger Things, Marvel, Harry Potter), taglist open, inbox open! Please like, comment, and reblog!

You tilted your head up slightly, taking in the sight of Eddie Munson. He was leaning against the door frame smiling, big brown eyes filled with amusement. His hair was a little messy, but it suited him. You looked him up and down, taking in what he was wearing. You nodded in appreciation of his cool style.

“Are you… checking me out?” he asked jokingly.

You quickly met his eyes again, “I- no. I wasn’t. I just like your outfit.”

He narrowed his eyes but the smile remained on his face. “Whatever you say. I’m just going to keep thinking that you were checking me out. I mean, I really don’t blame you. These luscious locks and my killer style is really something that you don’t see every day.”

You stayed silent and looked at him expectantly. He stood there looking back at you, waiting for you to say something before realizing that you were still outside and he was blocking the door. “Let me get some of these bags for you,” he said. He reached forward and took three of the bags out of your left hand and carried them inside.

You followed him, “Thank you.” The inside of the boathouse was a mess, and it smelled musty. There was a film of dust covering every surface and trash laying around. You weren’t sure what was because of Eddie and what was already there.

“No problem. It’s the least I can do since you picked all this up for me.” Eddie set the bags down on the counter and started pulling stuff out. You set down a plastic bag, the six pack, and took the Cokes and waters out of your backpack and put them down too. You looked over at Eddie who had gone uncharacteristically quiet. He was staring at the six packs, mouth agape.

“You got beer?” he asked incredulously.

“Yeah. You asked for some didn’t you?”

“Yes, I did, but I didn’t expect you to actually get them. You are now my favorite person,” he said. He pulled two beers out, offering one to you. You took it and followed Eddie to the couch. He plopped down and cracked the tab on his drink, taking a long sip. “That is heaven.”

You took a seat on the couch too, getting a whiff of weed when you sat down.

“So you wanted to talk about Chrissy?” Eddie asked. His facial expression was soft and understanding and made you feel safe.

“Yeah. I knew about her wanting to buy from you and that she was going to your house before that party. She never came though.”

He nodded. “We met up just outside the school at first, right where the trees start and that little picnic table is. She seemed on edge when I got there, but I mean, she’s a cheerleader and who would think of Chrissy Cunningham buying drugs?”

“Nobody… at least nobody that doesn’t know what was going on with her,” you said.

“She told me that she felt like she was losing her mind. I felt bad for her. I don’t know what she has going on but I could tell that it was really getting to her.”

“Chrissy never had the best home life. At all. For the past week she was having bad headaches, nightmares, and she couldn’t sleep. I know she was seeing the guidance counselor but I don’t think it was helping at all. That’s why she came to you.” You paused, thinking about your last day with your best friend. “The day she died I was in the bathroom with her. She was throwing up and didn’t feel good but she wouldn’t go home because of the game.”

“Sounds like her,” Eddie added.

You smiled, “Yeah. Chrissy is very devoted to the things she enjoys. Was. Sorry, I’m still not used to her… not being here.” You swallowed, trying to contain your emotions as much as you could. It didn’t work too well, tears welling up and some sliding down your cheeks. You have been so busy since she died that you never really had the time to just sit down and think and talk.

“Hey,” Eddie said softly, reaching towards you and cupping your face. He wiped the tears off your cheeks with his tough thumbs. He looked hurt seeing you so sad. “You don’t have anything to apologize for. You were her best friend and it’s completely okay for this to be hard on you.” He dropped his hands, leaving your cheeks feeling slightly cold. His hands were warm.

You sniffled, “Thank you. I don’t know… Chrissy didn’t deserve that. Of all people, she especially didn’t. She was so sweet and caring. I met her when we had tryouts for the cheer team. I remember I was so nervous that I thought I was going to throw up. She noticed and came over and talked to me and told me how she saw me practicing and that she was positive I would make the team. Sure enough I did. And she did too.” You smiled, thinking about how you two had become friends some three years ago. “She was just so positive. You couldn’t be around Chrissy and be upset at the same time. It was simply impossible.”

“I’ve known her since middle school and I can tell you that she’s always been like that. I think we both became very different people in high school though. She became the most popular girl at Hawkins and a cheerleader and I’m a freak that plays a satanic game.” He chuckled.

“For what it’s worth, I don’t think you’re a freak. People love to make assumptions about things they don’t fully understand or know about.” You smiled at him and received a smile in return.

“Thank you. Y’know, you’re pretty cool. Waaaaay too cool for me,” he joked.

“I don’t know about that. I think you’re pretty cool too,” you laughed quietly.

“No, you’re laughing. You do think I’m a freak.” He put his hand on his chest and a hand to his forehead, acting distraught.

“I would never. If anything, I’m a freak too. I ditched Jason and his asshole buddies so I could find you.”

“Who? Little old me?” he asked, eyes wide and eyebrows raised. “You ditched the basketball captain for me?”

“Yes, I did,” you said matter-of-factly. You crossed your arms and raised your chin up.

“Okay, y/l/n you are officially the coolest person ever. I just can’t begin to compete with you,” he plopped his hands down on his lap in defeat.

“Oh stop,” you waved him off, “I’m not that cool. Now drink your beer that I got illegally.”

“WHAT? Not only are you cool, you’re also a rebel. Wow. I never would have thought that y/n y/l/n would be so awesome.” He picked his beer back up and held it towards you, “Cheers.” You picked up your own can and clinked it against his. Yours wasn’t even opened yet. After you cracked the top open you took a drink. It was room temperature, but you were used to drinking beer like that. 

After what seemed like a few sips, your can was empty. Eddie had finished his before you, but was waiting until you were finished with yours before getting another one. He took your empty can and tossed it in the trash along with his. He went to the counter, grabbing two more beers and also bringing some snacks. 

He opened up the box of cereal and took the bag out, tearing it open so the hole was big enough for you both to get some. “So…” he started. “What are you into?”

“What do you mean?” you asked.

“Music wise. Who do you listen to?”

“I like The Clash, and Foreigner, and Kate Bush.” You didn’t think Eddie would be the biggest fan of any of those so you got a little bashful.

“I like The Clash and Foreigner. You’ve got good taste,” he said, grinning.

“Really? You’re not just saying that?”

“Ugh! Absolutely not!” Eddie ran over to the counter and climbed on top of it. He held his hand up to his face like he was holding a microphone. “I wanna know what love is! I want you to show me! I want to feel what love is, I know you can show me!” Eddie yelled.

You broke out into a laughing fit. Eddie wasn’t a terrible singer, definitely not the best, but he tried and it was incredibly funny. You clutched at your stomach. It had started hurting from how hard you were laughing.

“What’s so funny? Get up here!” He hopped down and pulled you up from the couch, you were still laughing a little bit and having so much fun that you just let it happen. You both got on the counter and Eddie took your hands. He was spinning you around and moving your arms around everywhere. Neither of you were coordinated in any regard but it didn’t matter.

You danced and sang together for a while until you were both out of breath. “That- was fun,” you said.

“Yes it was,” Eddie said as he put his hands on your waist to help you off the counter. “You’re a great dance partner.”

“Ha! No I’m not.”

“Yes, you are. You’re an amazing dancer. If I were ever in a dance competition, I would want you to be my partner.” He raised his eyebrows and smiled at you, like he was making an offer.

“Why would you ever be in a dance competition?” you asked, laughing.

“I don’t know, but it doesn’t hurt to be prepared.” He plopped back down on the couch and drank some more beer.

“You know what? You should join the cheer squad.” You sat back down on the couch too and kicked your tennis shoes off onto the floor. You put your legs on the couch, feet just a few inches from Eddie.

“I don’t know… I wouldn’t want to outshine everyone else,” he said, glancing at your feet mischievously.

“I’m sure they would manage somehow.”

Eddie sat there in thought for a second, stroking his nonexistent beard. “How about… you join the Hellfire Club… and I’ll learn the cheer routines for the last few weeks of our senior year?” 

Realization dawned on you. “The last few weeks of our senior year. Wow. It feels like I just started high school a few weeks ago.” You smiled bitter sweetly, thinking about everything that had happened in the past four years of your high school career. It had been a wild ride… and Chrissy had been there every step of the way. “What do you plan on doing when you graduate?” you asked.

“You mean if? This is my third time redoing my senior year,” Eddie said. You were aware of the fact that it wasn’t his first time being a senior. You’d never really thought about how that made him feel though.

“I’m sure you’ll graduate this time. I can even help you if you want,” you offered.

“As embarrassing as it is, I do need the help. I’m at an F in Ms. O’Donnell’s.” He shuddered thinking of her class. Ms. O’Donnell’s class was not fun in any regard. She was old. Old as dirt. She was very traditional and she gave Eddie trouble for being a “freak.”

“Well you are in luck because I’m passing that class with a B average.”

“Oh wow. You’re cool, a rebel, funny, an amazing dancer, pretty, and smart? You are a knockout y/l/n,” Eddie said, grinning at you.

The fact that he had called you pretty did not go without notice. Your face burned a little bit from hearing it. “You think I’m pretty?” you asked. You didn’t ask it in a way that implied that you didn’t think you were pretty, but in a way that asked if he specifically thought you were pretty.

“Oh yeah. I always have. Anyone that doesn’t is blind,” Eddie said finally. Saying that didn’t even phase him. He was so confident in his answer it made your face burn a little more. “Your face is red,” Eddie teased.

“Because it’s hot in here,” you lied, embarrassed. You took a sip of your beer, giving yourself something else to focus on other than Eddie staring at you with a knowing smile on his face.

“It’s not hot in here. It’s pretty cold actually, and it’s going to get colder. I don’t think the heater in this house works. Rick is in jail so he wouldn’t know to get it fixed.” He looked around at the house he was sitting in. “Wait, are you staying here tonight?”

“Well I wasn’t exactly planning on it but it’s pitch black outside and I rode here on my bicycle. If you don’t want me to stay I can leave though,” you added.

“No! No, please stay. I would enjoy the company,” he quickly answered.

“Alright,” you smiled, causing him to smile too. One thing you had noticed about Eddie is that he smiled a lot. Like every time you looked at him. You were in no way complaining. He had a nice smile, an infectious smile. His eyes lit up whenever grinned. His eyes were another thing completely though. They were big and brown, and reminded you of a labrador’s eyes in the best way possible.

Under your gaze, Eddie felt a little nervous. He sat up straighter and quit spinning the rings on his fingers. The movement drew your eyes to his hands. Almost every finger was adorned with a thick silver ring. He had a watch on one wrist, and a heavy silver chain on the other. He was very accessorized. You looked down at your own hands, one single ring on it. There was a thin silver band on your right thumb, a gift from Chrissy. She had a necklace, and you had a ring. If you took it off you would see the little flower engraved on the inside of it. Her necklace had a flower charm.

Eddie was looking at your hand too. “I like your ring,” he said. 

You looked up at him, “Thanks. I like all of your rings too. Do they have stories?”

“Um, no not really. I got them at thrift shops. Just whatever I thought looked cool. Except for this one.” You had put your legs down, allowing him to scoot closer to you. He held his left hand out in front of you and wagged his pointer finger. “It was my uncle’s. He got it from a bet.” 

“Oh really? What was the bet?” you asked, intrigued.

“He bet his friend that he could get an autograph from his favorite guitarist, but his friend didn’t think he could,” Eddie explained. “Well a few months later, the band that the guitarist was in was touring and my uncle went. He was able to catch the guy after the show and get the autograph. Then in turn also getting the ring.”

“Wow. Your uncle sounds like a cool guy,” you said.

“He is. I’ve been living with him for a while now. I hope I’m not causing him any trouble with this whole situation.” Eddie sighed and leaned back. “I don’t know what I’m going to do after this. How am I going to convince all of Hawkins that I didn’t kill Chrissy?” For the first time that night Eddie sounded hopeless, defeated.

Your heart ached. Eddie wasn’t a killer. Anyone that took any time to know him would realize that. You reached for his hand, which was resting on his thigh. His rings were cold, unsurprisingly. His hand was bigger than yours, and a little rougher.

You squeezed his hand, “We’ll figure this out. I know you didn’t kill her. Dustin and his friends know you didn’t kill her. That’s a start.”

He nodded, “You’re right.” He looked you in the eye and gave you a small smile. “You know what we should do?” he asked, his energy returning.

“Hm?” you hummed.

“We should make a blanket fort.” He stood up, tugging on your hand, “Come on.” You followed him to one of the bedrooms in the house, careful not to step on anything that was scattered on the floor. In the bedroom there was a wooden four poster bed with a mossy green quilt and multiple pillows. Eddie took those and you stripped the bed of its sheets. Once back in the living room you dumped the stuff on the floor.

“Okay so let’s get two of these,” Eddie said, grabbing two kitchen chairs and placing them about four feet in front of the couch.

“We obviously need a soft bottom,” you said, taking the quilt that you had found and folding it to fit between the couch and the chairs. You put down two pillows at each end and then helped Eddie spread out the sheet to drape over the chairs, creating a tent over your blanket and pillows. You put the other sheet down on the floor and put a throw blanket that was on the back of the couch down there too. You ran over to the counter and grabbed your drinks and the snacks and climbed into the fort. Eddie had already climbed in.

“A nice little castle we’ve made here if I do say so myself.”

“It is pretty nice,” you agreed. You yawned.

“Are you tired?” Eddie asked, leaning back on his elbows.

“Yeah a bit. I’ve been running around all day.”

“You should get some sleep then. Do you want to take the couch and I’ll sleep down here?”

“Eddie, c’mon. That is not comfortable. You can take the couch. I’ll sleep down there,” you said.

“Y/n I’m not letting you sleep on the floor.”

You mustered up a little bit of courage and said, “Well how about we both take the couch?”

“Like… I sleep on one end and you sleep on the other?” he asked. He wasn’t trying to jump to any conclusions and think you meant something else. Although he hoped you meant something else.

You took a deep breath. Eddie not automatically assuming what you meant and making you spell it out was making you even more nervous. You almost backed out and just nevermind. But you didn’t. “No, I mean that… we sleep next to each other on the couch. It’s cold and body heat will keep us warm.”

“Oh,” he swallowed, Adam’s apple bobbing up and down. “Um- yeah we can- we can do that.”

You both crawled out and collected the covers and pillows. You tossed the softest pillow down onto the couch and Eddie chose a cover. You discarded the rest of the stuff next to the couch and then looked at each other, blinking. Who knew that two adults would act so bashful.

“So I guess you lay down first and then I’ll lay down on top of you. Unless you want to lay on top of me,” you said.

“I’ll lay down first,” he said. You nodded and let him lay down. He shut his eyes when you laid down on top of him, fitting together like puzzle pieces. You slowly eased yourself onto his chest, hearing his heart racing. He pulled the blanket up to cover you both and wrapped his arms around you. His embrace was so… comforting.

“Is this good?” he asked quietly.

“Yeah. Are you comfortable?”

“Mhm. You’re warm,” he chuckled.

“So are you.”

“Goodnight y/n.”

“Goodnight Eddie,” you said. There was silence for a few seconds before you felt Eddie kiss the top of your head. His heart rate quickened even more, and you were glad he couldn’t see your face because it was bright red.

[hertzwritings]

Clothes

A/N: WELP, I might be developing arthritis in my fingers from all the typing, but I DON’T CARE. I am literally so happy that you guys are involved with my stuff, and I constantly look at replies, reblogs and screenshots of asks, because they make me feel all giddy and happy. Anyway, onwards with the prompts! Also this prompt was requested by the sweet @daughterofautumn​ – THANK YOU.

Prompt: “Undress or I’ll do it for you.”

 You can buy me a coffee here and I’ll write you a personalized drabble, one-shot or multichapter fic. It would help me immensely, because bills are a bitch and I have to buy diapers and food. Seriously, anything can help.

 Love y’all so much! Remember, feedback feeds the soul (mine in particular) and my requests – and askbox – are always open – there’s no limits, because I am me and I have none.

 MASTERLIST

PROMPTLIST

ASK ME ANYTHING/REQUESTS

 Pairing: Henry Cavill x Plus sized!female reader

Contains: Language, fluff, smut (18+, MINORS DNI), fingering, p in v, oral (f + m receiving), unprotected sex, semi-public sex, cream-pie, praise kink, loving, fluffy, friends to lovers, coworkers to lovers, slight dirty talk, SEXUAL TENSION UP THE HOOHA

W.C.: 4.496 (sorry)

 Clothes

 “Henry, move again and I’ll stab you on purpose.” He chuckled but kept still - arms out and his eyebrow cocked at you. You shook your head and began slowly pinning the pants, so they kept the shape, hoping to God that this was the last pair you had to fix. “You should stop working out so much. I’ve never had to repair this many pairs of leather pants before.” You grumbled, smoothing the fabric over his shin to make sure it sat right. It was the fourth pair over the last two weeks alone, he had misshaped with his stupidly thick thighs. “Please, you love my company. And thighs.” He said with a small laugh. Well, yes, but he didn’t need to know that.

  “Remind me to tell budgeting that we need like… A million just for leather, so I can make new pants every hour.” You grinned at him and stood up, looking over your handiwork. They’d fit if he didn’t do squats in them. “Thank you. You’re literally magic.” He said softly. His eyes were full of praise, and you felt heat radiating from your cheeks. “Oh, pish, posh. It’s my job, Henry. I should be thankful that you keep mucking up your costumes, so I can keep working, really.” “I’ll keep that in mind.” Silence fell between you, and you glanced at the clock. “Shit, you need to go. Get behind the partition and slowly take the pants off. I will not hesitate to murder you if you get a single pin out of its place.” You said, narrowing your eyes playfully. “Yes, ma’am.” He stepped down from the podium and went behind the partition; he was tall enough for his head to stick out on top. “Any fun plans for the night?” He asked, bending down. You tried not to think too much about what he wasn’t wearing right now (“I can’t wear briefs underneath these pants, the lines are too obvious!”) and answered with a somewhat level voice. “Oh, uh… Nothing, actually.” You licked your lips and his head shot up, eyes locking on you. “Wait, didn’t you have a thing with the…” He pursed his lips. “What’s-his-name?” You rolled your eyes. “Roger. And I did, but he… Yeah, no, it didn’t work out. He would much rather only see me in private.” You sighed. “What?” He asked. “Well, I think his words were something along the lines of… We have fun, but you’re just not one you’d take for a stroll through the city, are you? But you’re super sexy… Ish.” You grimaced. “Holy shit.” You nodded, although he couldn’t see you. “It is what it is. I dumped him, and here I am.” “Oh, I’m sorry.” He said with a shit-eating grin, not looking sorry at all before stepping out, now dressed again, and handed you the pants; he towered over you, and you tried your best to keep yourself in line. “It is… It’s not like I would have time to date at any rate, I’m here all the time.” You shrugged. It wasn’t a lie. “Well… I guess it’s a good thing, then.” He said, gathering his swords. “Why is my lack of a love-life a good thing?” You asked with a smile. He turned to face you, and his thumb stroked down your cheekbone in a way, that made your breath hitch and knees wobble. “Then I get to keep you around.” He winked at you. “See you later!”

 Your strange, sort of flirty friendship with Henry had started the same day, you began working on set. You had walked into the wardrobe-trailer, hands full of yards of fabric for a new dress, and nearly tumbled to the ground, when you ran straight into a very firm body. Henry had caught you with a hand around your waist. “Thank you for catching me.” You said breathlessly, not even trying to get back on your feet. “If I’m the cause of you falling like this…” He grinned. “Anytime, darling.”

And thus, a friendship was born. You didn’t fool yourself into thinking there was anything in it from his side other than casual friendship – especially after he had brought a woman to set once, his arm locked around her at all times, he wasn’t in a scene. She was the size of a stick, and wonderfully fit, which stood in stark contrast to your own body; you felt lumpy at the best times, and like an absolute piece of blob at the worst times. It was fine, really. You could be happy enough for what you did have with Henry because he was an absolute joy to be around. He was laid back, funny as hell and attentive – every time there was a late-night shoot, he brought you coffee and some kind of snack, he had made himself. Cookies, brownies, anything really, and he did it just because he wanted to. At least, that’s what he said. You wondered a few times if it was because of your body, he only brought sugary snacks, but quickly learned that the man himself had the biggest sweet tooth, you’d ever seen. He could inhale a whole tray of brownies in less than two minutes, and he carried gummies in his costumes, which you had scolded him for once, when he had been a little too closer to a bonfire and the gummies had practically melted into the leather.

He spent a lot of time in your trailer. At first, there was issues with his armor. Then something got messed up. Then he had accidentally fallen on his beautiful ass in a puddle of mud, and then, when he ran out of excuses, he just said that he wanted to be somewhere he felt comfortable. It was nice. He was nice.

“Y/N?” A voice called from the very back of the trailer. “Yeah, I’m in front!” You called back, waiting for Abby to come out of the many layers of clothing on racks. Her hair was a mess and she looked like she was about to collapse, carrying five different costumes carefully. “God, sometimes I think I should’ve chosen a different career path. I’m dying.” She grumbled, laying the costumes on the work bench, straightening up and rubbing her round belly. “Abby, you know you can just call for me, and I’ll do all that. That’s like… 80 % of my job.” You said with a small smile, gently coercing her to a chair. She sat down with a grunt and closed her eyes. “You’re lucky you get off so early today.” “Oh, you’ve got another night?” You asked sympathetically. She nodded. “Abby, I’m serious… You’re seven months pregnant, you shouldn’t be working lates.” She opened one eye to look at you. “I don’t have any plans, it’s supposed to be pickups and I really wouldn’t mind taking the shift.” “Are you sure? Every time we say it’s going to be pickups, they end up overloading us. I wouldn’t want to leave you behind…” You waved your hand at her. “Stop it. I’m capable. At most things, actually. I think I can handle one late shoot.” She smiled gratefully. “Thank you. Really, Y/N, you’re a lifesaver.” You shrugged. “No problem. Go home, Abby, I don’t want you to overwork yourself and push a kid out in the wardrobe trailer.” You grinned at her and helped her to her feet. She hugged you. “I’ll be back on Monday, okay?” You nodded. “And if there’s any issues, call me…” “Abby. I’m not going to call you. I have both Pieter and Susan on emergency, if a problem should arise.” She sighed. “Fine. Okay, enjoy your weekend of work!” You waved her off with a laugh, pulling the iron out of the closet.

 You had been wrong. It was indeed a late night, but it was extremely busy. Apparently, every single costume had decided to break, or the team wanted last minute changes, and you were working triple-time. You were sweating, breathing like you had just run a damn marathon and your eyes were growing weary, when they finally called wrap.

You were absolutely done, but the universe had different ideas.

“Y/N, sorry to keep you, but Henry’s damned shirt ripped again.” You whined. “Nooooo…. I was just going home!” You wanted to cry. “It can’t wait until tomorrow?” The P.A looked at you with I’m sorry written all over their face. “Sorry, honey. He’ll be here in five.” You waved your hand. “Yeah, yeah…”   You stomped around the trailer, gathering the supplies and muttering to yourself, when the door swung open again and a muddy, slightly tired Henry stepped inside, resting his swords on the side of the work bench, and made to step further inside. “Hold it. You are not walking in here, among silk with those damned boots on.” You pointed at them, covered in mud that still dripped slowly from the top. His wig was off, but he was still covered in the makeup, a few lines of fake blood and dirt on his cheekbones and chin. “Sorry.” He quickly pulled them off and threw them outside. “All good?” “Fine. You can come up here.” You mumbled, rubbing your eyes. “Are you okay, love?” He asked worriedly, as he stepped up on the podium. “Long day. Lot of work. Not enough hands.” You looked at him with a tired smile. “If I have to fix your shirt, you need the armor off.” He just held his arms out. “Henry…” He looked at you with a smirk. “Undress, or I’ll do it for you.” You threatened. “Is that a promise?” He asked, his voice lower than before. You grunted and got on your knees, slowly unfastening the different clasps and strings along the armor on his legs, pulling them off one by one. He cleared his throat when your fingers grazed his inner thigh. “Damn it, I can’t get to the last ones without doing the top…” You sighed. “Okay, just… Hold your arms out, I want to go home.” You said with a yawn, and thankfully, Henry listened – you might be tired, and you may not be in the mood for anything, but you were painfully aware of how close you were going to have to be to him, and how great he smelled. It was actually kind of rude to smell that nice, like pine-trees and vanilla, when he’d been running around set, swinging swords in the mud. “How did you, uh… Ruin the shirt?” You asked, looking everywhere but his eyes. If you caught his eyes, you were not going to be able to control yourself, and you were just friends. “I’ll let you in on a secret.” He whispered, his lips dangerously close to your ear, as your fingers slowly untied two strings, holding his shoulder piece in place. Your breathing was shallow. “Oh?” You were whispering too, now. “I didn’t. I just wanted an excuse to come over here.” You swallowed thickly and removed another piece, the strings falling limply from your fingers. Heat was radiating off of him. “Then… Why am I removing your armor?” You asked breathlessly. His arms curled, the sound of leather straining against leather echoing in your ears, and they finally embraced you tentatively, fingers resting on the small of your back. “Because you wanted to see me too.” He answered confidently. You didn’t know what to say to that. You unclasped one of the clasps along his ribcage, opening the armor a sliver. You could feel his warm skin under the thin layer of his shirt. “And… I think that maybe…” His fingers were warm against your lower back, slowly scrunching the fabric of your dress. “You’ve been too scared to say anything.” “You haven’t either.” You replied. The tension was thick enough to leave a tangy taste on your tongue as pieces of his armor fell away from his body, leaving more and more of him exposed; or, at least, in a very thin shirt and leather pants. “No, I haven’t.” You still couldn’t look him in the eyes. “I suppose I was… Worried.” He drew a deep breath, when the final piece of his armor fell away, thudding loudly on the floor between your feet. “About?” You asked feebly. He drew a little closer, barely noticeable to the outside world, but to you? It felt as if he had traveled an insurmountable distance, the damned earth had shifted and shrunk and widened all at the same time. “You. Me. How you see me. How I didn’t want to ruin a friendship.” Your fingers were playing with the buttons on his shirts, not really sure if you should unbutton them. “And? What did you…?” You trailed off. You didn’t know if you really wanted the answer. “I would sell my soul to the devil himself, if that meant I could have you for just a minute. That’s what I found out.” You closed your eyes at his confession. “Henry, I…” You bit your lip. “I’m…”   “What? You’re what? Too beautiful, too real, too…” His one hand found your cheek, cupping it. “Entirely too good for me? Trust me, I’ve already thought about it. But I am, at heart, a very stubborn man, and I have a very hard time letting go of something so beautiful.” You finally found the strength to look at him and wish you hadn’t.

His eyes were burning hotly into you, darkened and deep – you wanted to die. This was too much. “No, Henry. I’m… Not…” You sighed. You still held on to each other. “I’m not what you want, not really.” “Why?” You swallowed. “I just… Aren’t.” he sighed and the hand, that cupped your face, pulled you an inch closer to him. You were craning your neck to keep looking at his eyes. “Darling, you are everything to me. Everything. All you are, all you’ll ever be… The very air you breathe makes me dizzy. I get that it’s intimidating, and trust me, I know what’s going on in that pretty, little head of yours. We’ve been friends for long enough for me to confidently say that you’re overthinking it. How we would look. How you look. I can’t take that away from you, but I can say…” He leaned in a little closer. “I don’t care. You’re the most beautiful person, I’ve ever had the joy of laying my eyes on, inside and out. If you’ll let me, I want to spend the rest of my life worshipping everything about you.” You didn’t know what to say. Nor did you really think there was anything to say, so you did the next best thing.

 Your fingers moved from the buttons on his shirt to his waist, fingers nimbly undoing the strings, holding his pants in place, your eyes locked on his. “Y/N, what are you…” “Sh. Just… Sh.” You whispered, the strings coming loose under your fingers. The pants fell to the ground around his ankles in a whisper, and your fingers moved back to the buttons on his shirt, his breath hitching when your fingers began unbuttoning them – your hands were surprisingly steady. He complied, and moved his arms over his head, as you slowly pulled the shirt over his head, his hair and beyond his fingertips, throwing it to the side.

He swallowed, his Adam’s apple bobbing slightly, and then his hands moved to the straps of your dress, slowly, while his eyes were boring into yours, he gently moved them down your arms. The dress fell from your chest, and without looking, he found the zipper on your ribcage, slowly dragging it down until your dress sagged a little, and he could move it further down your body.

It was entrancing to look at him; you were swimming in an ocean of him, as his fingers led the dress fall in a heap around your feet and then moved to your back, undoing your bra. You sucked in a sharp breath when it fell from your body.

It would seem that that was all it took.

His lips found yours in a feverish desire, slotting over yours perfectly, like two pieces of a puzzle fitting together perfectly. His lips slid against your bottom lip, begging silently for entrance; you granted it, wrapping your arms around his neck, and he groaned against the kiss, your bodies flush against each other. His tongue was sinful, making you whimper into the kiss, and his hands found your ass, cupping it, before he lifted you up. You wrapped your legs around his hips, and felt his hard cock nudge your thigh. It made you gasp and he chuckled against your lips, his teeth grazing your bottom lip now that his tongue was withdrawn, and tugged it gently. It wasn’t enough. It wasn’t nearly enough to quell the fire that was raging in you, and you gasped, holding him tighter as he walked from the podium to the small couch next to it, sitting down and letting you straddle him. You bit his lip, tugging it with a little more force than he had, showing him what you needed. “Oh, you like it rough, love?” He asked breathlessly, his fingertips still burning against your ass. You nodded. “Yes.” You might have had an inkling to how he liked it, but it was nothing against the raw desire and ferocity that overtook him. He growled, placing his lips back on yours and moved swiftly, laying you down on your back as his fingers moved to the waistband of your panties, tugging them down your legs. His lips left yours, leaving wet trails along your neck and collarbone, until they latched on your nipple, tongue swirling against it. “Oh…” You moaned and arched your back, pressing your chest up to meet his lips. His teeth found it and bit down gently, drawing a moan from your lips, that sounded strangely like his name, and your hands grabbed his hair, tugging it roughly. You needed more. He chuckled against your chest and moved from your nipple to your stomach, making sure he kissed every inch of it, before he moved further down. You gasped when his tongue licked a long stripe against your folds, his fingers digging into your soft flesh on your thighs and you could’ve died right there.

“Fuck, you taste amazing…” He grumbled before he lost all control, eating you like a man possessed. His tongue danced across your clit, sending shivers down your spine, and his right hand moved to your dripping hole, letting two fingers slide inside of you as he licked you. Your back arched and you whined at the feeling of his fingers moving inside of you. It was heaven.

He moaned against your clit, the vibrations sending you into overdrive; you had never in your life been this aroused before, and you could feel how damned close you already were. “Henry…” You whispered his name like a prayer, and he sped up, your walls fluttering around his fingers. You were rolling your hips to meet his movements and when you caught his eyes, looking up at you while a smirk rested on his lips as he licked a fat, hard strip against you, your orgasm came.

Waves of pleasure rippled through your body, every nerve screaming his name as you came on his tongue, lips and fingers; he was moaning along with you, lapping up everything you gave him. Your toes were curling and you writhed as your orgasm ripped through you.

When you could see straight again, you tugged his hair to bring him up again; his fingers were still working you, but he happily kissed you deeply, letting you taste yourself on his tongue.

“You’re so fucking good, Y/N… So good for me…” His praise made you preen, and your eyes rolled back in your head.

“Please… I want to taste you…” You hadn’t even looked at him naked yet, and you wanted to see him and feel his cock on your tongue. “You’re going to be the death of me, love.” He whispered against your lips, before drawing back and sitting down on the couch.

You slid to your knees and moved to sit in front of him, practically drooling over the sight in front of you.

His cock was leaking precum, throbbing slightly; it was large, larger than you’d ever been with before, and a pulsing vein ran along the underside, that was begging to be licked. He stared at you with lust-blown eyes, and you smirked at him before your tongue darted out and licked a stripe against the vein. He moaned and whispered a small fuck when you sucked on his head, tasting his precum.

You slowly inched down on him, taking as much as you could before he hit the back of your throat. He twitched and forced himself a little deeper. You gagged. “Shit, Y/N…” You shot him a wink and grasped his thigh, letting him know it was okay. You wanted this. You needed to feel him.

He groaned and sat up straighter, a hand falling on your hair. “Is this okay?” You nodded as much as you could with your mouth occupied. He grinned wickedly at you. “Good girl… Taking so much of me.” He slowly pressed you down, letting you gag around him. “You can do more, love.” Your pussy clenched around nothing, and you felt the wetness between your thighs at his words. He slowly moved your head down his cock, twitching slightly when he hit the back of your throat. You moaned at the feeling, and you could see the moment, Henry snapped completely.

His eyes darkened and he rolled his hips, thrusting into your mouth, slowly beginning to fuck your mouth. It was the most erotic sight, you’d ever seen – his lips twitching as he fucked into your mouth, his eyes trained on your lips and small moans tumbling from his lips.

“Fuck, you feel fucking amazing… You take me so well, baby… Such a good girl for me.” He grunted and you preened under his praise, hollowing your cheeks and meeting his thrusts; he groaned and stilled, pulling out of your mouth, a string of spit connecting you to him. “Henry, what…?” your voice was hoarse. He kissed you and smiled. “I’m not coming in your mouth today, love.” He gently guided you to straddle him again, and lined himself up with your waiting, dripping core, coating his cock in your slick. “Are you sure…” “Henry, take me.” You whispered, desperate for him inside of you. He didn’t need to be told twice, and adjusted a little, and let his tip sink inside your warmth. You both moaned as you sunk down on him, taking him completely; he filled you so much that it was nearly uncomfortable, but you didn’t care – it was too good, so much more than you had ever imagined and when his head nudged your cervix, you damn near collapsed. He wasn’t faring any better; he held you tightly, groaning at the feeling of you and he thrusted up once, making you whimper. Something came over him, and you felt the shift in the air; he wasn’t going to be gentle.

“Fuck, you…” He grunted and slammed his hips to meet you, his cock moving at an impossible speed, as you moved your own hips – you were fucking each other, his hand on your ass and one in your hair, tugging you back slightly to expose your neck to him. He bit and licked at your sensitive skin as the sounds of your skin slapping against each other filled the trailer. “You’re taking me so… ugh… So well, love.” You moaned and your hips stuttered, your second orgasm building faster than you could keep up with. “Are you going to cum, love? Make a mess out of me?” You nodded. “Oh, there’s my good girl… Atta, girl…” He mumbled against your skin. “Fucking clench down on me, milk me, love… I want to feel you cum on me…” You lost it at his words. Your orgasm erupted like a surge of power out of you, stars colliding behind your eyes as you screamed his name, your pussy clenching down on him.

“Fuck, I’m going to… Shit, can I cum in you?” He was gasping now, as he fucked you through your orgasm – you were mewling, barely coherent, but you did manage to get a fuck yes out while waves of pleasure rolled against you.

“I’m going to fill you… Fuck, Y/N!” He buried his face in the crook of your neck, forcing you down as far as you could go, and you felt the warmth of him filling you; you moaned at the feeling, grinding against him, milking him for whatever he had.

“I’m so sorry, you came so fucking hard, I couldn’t…” You kissed him to shut him up. “Stop it, it was perfect.” You mumbled against his lips. He chuckled and slowly laid you down, wrapping you in his arms.

“I’ll promise that the next time will be a lot longer.” You smiled against his chest, feeling your pussy pulse in feeble aftershocks, and his spend leaking out of you slowly. “So there’s going to be a next time?” You asked. “Oh, and a time after that, and after that… I’m planning on ruining you for the rest of your life, love.” He said, kissing your damp hair. “I’m not willingly letting you go, you know.” You grinned. “Good thing I’m not planning on it, then.” He chuckled. “Henry?” Your voice was tired. “Hm?” “Uh, what… Does this mean for, you know… Us?” you asked in a small voice, hoping this wasn’t another one of the “I’m keeping you a secret”-deals, because your heart couldn’t handle it. “What do you mean? I’m planning on ravishing you, and when I’m not doing that, I’ll be parading you around. Trust me, you’ll get tired of me really quickly.” He laughed. “I’m going to want everyone to know that you are mine.” He sounded so possessive, it made you clench your thighs.

“Oh.” “Not what you expected?” You shook your head. “I was a little scared that you’d want to keep me a secret.” He lifted your head gently with two fingers under your chin, his other hand rubbing soothing circles on your back.

“Darling, I would never want to hide the best thing in my life away. You are the light that leads the way for me, and I hope you know that. That shouldn’t be snuffed out, and I’ll do my very best to prove that to you.” “I love you.” You blurted it out. You sucked in a sharp breath, hoping to God that you didn’t ruin a good thing. He smiled at you and kissed you so softly, it felt like a butterfly’s heartbeat thrumming. “I love you too, if it wasn’t abundantly clear already.”

-------------------- 

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[cjsinkythoughts]

The Conversation

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Avenger!Reader

Word Count: 7661 (Don’t come at me - you guys asked for it)

Warnings: !FATWS Spoilers!, Cursing, Fluff, Feelings, I Dunno What Else, This One’s Pretty Chill, Except The Ending, But You’ll See When You Get There

A/N: Here it is! I was hesitant about posting it because that means we’re getting closer to the end and I’m such a nostalgic bitch! I’m definitely gonna cry next week when the last episode comes out! Anyways, I’ve got a few things to talk about:

I think this is one of the most important chapters I’ve written and I’m excited to see your reactions to it. It is longer, but you guys asked for that, so you got it! Also, I’m loving the Asks, Comments, and Reblogs. I try to respond to all of them. I have work in a little bit, so I won’t be able to until after, but I’ll get back to you as soon as I can. Ask me anything; about my series, the show, any of the movies, personal stuff, I really don’t care. If you’re not comfortable, that’s totally fine! Every like means so much to me!

I know it’s not the end yet - we’ve got one more episode and a list of One Shots to get through - but there’s a definite feeling of this series coming to an end, and I just want to thank you all for the support and love you’ve been giving it! I’ve really enjoyed writing these characters and this story! It’s very, very special to me and I’m glad I’ve been able to share it with you lovely people!

On that note, be kind to yourselves and others! Thank you again for reading! Excuse any mistakes - this isn’t beta’d! Enjoy and stay tuned!

FATWS Masterlist

cjsinkythoughts Masterlist

!SPOILERS UNDER CUT! (Sorry for the gifs I just love them so much and he’s so pretty and this part is technically two parts so...you get four!)

“Louisiana.” Bucky hummed, looking around the airport.

You rolled your eyes. “You’re not gonna find anything interesting about Louisiana in here, doofus. Let’s call an Uber.”

“An Ooper? What the hell is an Ooper?”

You giggled, shaking your head and grabbing his hand and pulling him towards the luggage carousel. “Uber. It’s like…a taxi service. But there’s an app on your phone to get a driver instead of waiting for one on the street.”

“Oh.” He blinked, tilting his head. “That’s…helpful.”

You laughed again, stopping in front of Carousel 3, where your flight from New York was assigned. You went back to New York to grab a bag with clean clothes and other necessities, along with taking a real shower for once. It was nice to be back in the States, as much as you loved traveling. It’d been a crazy few weeks and you were ready to just relax.

“Do you think there were any problems with Sammy’s present?”

Bucky shook his head. “Nah. Especially considering they know who we are.”

You snickered at his slight grumble. They had had…problems at the other two airports - first the one in Sokovia then JFK in New York - considering Bucky’s entire arm was metal. It’d taken a full hour before they actually let you go, and by that time they had to give you a new plane because yours had left.

“Seriously. Who else has a fucking metal arm and has 1917 listed as their birth year on their Driver’s License?” You giggled again. That was also true. They thought he was messing with them. It wasn’t until you stepped in a few minutes after they asked Bucky to step to the side, seeing Bucky get frustrated, that they realized Bucky wasn’t pulling their legs.

“Well, we’re here now and that’s all that matters.”

He nodded in agreement, watching for your bags, his hand finding yours when he realized how many people there were. “Do you know where he lives? I didn’t even think about it.”

“Yeah, don’t worry. He invited me over once. I declined, but I saved the address.”

“He…invited you over?” Bucky frowned.

You gave him a look. “I’m sure he invited you, too. You just never checked his texts.”

He licked his lips, tilting his head. “Yeah, no, I know, but I mean…why didn’t you go? Weren’t you two just talking about how you wanted to meet his nephews the other day?”

“Yeah, but I had gotten a tip on Wanda at the time and I didn’t want to miss the chance that she was there. He told me it was fine. I still felt really bad. I could tell he was a bit disappointed. I think it was one of the boys’ birthdays. Or something. I don’t remember. Is that bad? Yeah, probably. I really should remember. Maybe I should keep track of birthdays on my calendar or something.”

“Doll.” You looked up to find him giving you a magnificent smile, teeth and all. “You’re rambling.”

“Oh. Am I? Sorry. I didn’t realize.”

He shook his head quickly, squeezing your hand. “Don’t apologize. It’s cute. I’m just not used to you talking so much. You kinda did on the phone sometimes.”

You shrugged, pushing down the heat crawling up your neck at his words. “I rambled a lot to Steve.”

“Oh.”

His face fell, making you scrunch your eyebrows up in confusion, nudging him slightly to grin at him. “It’s nice to have someone to ramble to again, though.” There was that smile again. You were stopped from saying anything more when you noticed some kids pointing and chattering excitedly at a gleaming silver box coming around the corner on the conveyor belt. “There it is.”

He looked over his shoulder, dropping your hand and stepping over to grab it, lifting it effortlessly. You didn’t know what was in it or how heavy it was, but you were sure it felt like a feather to him.

“Alright. Got our bag, sweetheart?” You lifted up the duffle in answer and he jerked his head towards the doors. “Let’s get outta here, then. Call that Booper or whatever.”

“U-B-E-R! Ub-er!” You threw your hands up, following him as he started walking towards the exit. “What’s so hard about it?!”

He just gave you a little smirk over his shoulder.

***************

Bucky kept asking the Uber driver questions about his job. The guy was super nice and patient the whole time, a thick southern accent lacing his answers. Southern hospitality was no joke and apparently had no limit as Bucky asked about his experiences, listening intently and telling him his own stories of taxi drivers in NYC.

When you got to Sam’s sister’s house, Bucky, being Bucky, tipped the driver half of what you paid for the ride, thanking him for his time and energy, before getting out.

“You’re so adorable, you know that?” You teased him as you stepped up the porch stairs and knocked on the door.

He rolled his eyes, a tint of pink dusting across his cheeks. “He was nice.”

You hummed at his defense, the smile never leaving your features. After a moment, Bucky raised his fist to knock again. “Jesus Christ! Don’t fucking knock their door down!” You grabbed his wrist and lowered it.

“Sorry. I forget sometimes.” Bucky informed you absentmindedly,  tilting his head to peek in the window. “I don’t think anyone’s home.”

“They’re probably at the docks, then.”

Bucky raised an eyebrow. “The docks?”

You nodded, gesturing for him to follow you. “Yeah. They have a boat, remember? He talked about it last week.”

“Oh right. The one he’s trying to convince his sister not to sell.”

“Yeah.” You confirmed. “I’m pretty sure it’s that way. I don’t know how far, but we can call the Uber back-”

Bucky scrunched up his face and shook his head. “Nah. I don’t wanna bother him again. We can walk.”

You gave him an incredulous look. “It’s literally his job to drive people around.”

“Well, yeah, but what if he’s got other people to drive?”

You lifted his metal knuckles to your lips. “Trust me, Buck, I’m sure he’d rather drive you than anyone else.”

“Thank you?”

Swinging your now linked hands, you gave a firm nod, letting him know it was, in fact, a compliment. “You are so very welcome.”

The walk was a lot longer than you thought it was, and you ended up on Bucky’s back after he kept complaining about how you “shouldn’t be walking this long” and you were “injured” and you “needed rest’”. You’re not sure how a shoulder wound affected your ability to walk, but you relented and let him carry you the rest of the way to stop his whining.

“You forget, you did pull your thigh.”

“That was, like, three weeks ago! Yeesh!”

You finally got to the docks, which were bustling with people. Bucky set you down and raised an eyebrow which you shrugged in reply to, before heading over to where you spotted Sam with a few other older men.

“How do we get it off the truck?” You heard Sam ask, pointing to a large boat engine part in the bed of a beaten up truck. Scoffing as Bucky lifted it up without breaking a sweat, you leaned against the truck. Bucky grunted and set it down, looking at Sam.

“You’re welcome.” What a punk. “Just dropping this off.” Bucky lifted the case and set it where the engine was previously, Sam coming to stand on the opposite side of the truck as you. “You can sign for it and I’ll go.” You snorted, shaking your head, making Bucky shove your shoulder - the uninjured one - playfully. “I called in a favor from the Wakandans.”

Sam looked at you curiously. You shrugged and shook your head. “Don’t look at me, Sammy. He wouldn’t tell me what it is. He’s all hushy hushy about it until you say so.”

Before Sam could reply, there was a squeak and hissing over at the boat where steam was coming from a few pipes.

“Sam!” You knew that was Sarah from pictures Sam showed you. You stayed up by the truck, pulling yourself onto the bed while Sam tried fixing the pipe, Bucky butting in to show him how to do it properly.

“Why didn’t you use the metal arm?”

You saw Bucky lift up said metallic limb. “Well…I don’t always think of it immediately. I’m-I’m right handed.” Letting out a laugh, Bucky turned around and scowled teasingly at you. “And what’re you laughing at?!”

“Nothing!”

“Well then get your ass over here!”

You rolled your eyes, hopping down from the truck as Bucky asked if Sam wanted help with the boat. You leaned against a wooden post, grinning when Sam looked at you.

“I don’t have any plans.”

Sam gave a small smile, jerking his head back. “Yeah.”

You jumped down onto the boat to follow him, looking over your shoulder and stopping with an amused eyebrow raised as Bucky introduced himself to Sarah. “I’m Bucky.”

“Ah…Sarah.”

“Sarah.” Bucky repeated her name, before walking towards you, a grin still on his lips.

“Careful, Barnes. That playboy Steve warned me about is coming out.” You nudged him with a smirk, ignoring the feeling of your stomach dropping.

He rolled his eyes, kissing your head as he passed you and Sam to go where Sam was gesturing. “Don’t worry, Y/N. You’re still my doll.”

Sam raised an eyebrow, falling into step besides you and lowering his voice. “Conversation?”

“Hasn’t happened.” You informed him through clenched teeth as he groaned.

Sam gave you a list of chores that needed to be done to clean up the boat, giving you a quick tour and letting you know where all the tools needed where. You set to work immediately.

Sanding down, replacing old parts, cleaning, polishing and painting over the things that didn’t need replacing. They didn’t let you do any heavy lifting because of your stupid shoulder, but you were still able to help.

Sam had turned on some music for you to listen to, so you danced around the boat while cleaning. Turning your head when you felt a pair of eyes on you, you smiled when Bucky snapped his head back down to the wood he was sanding down.

“Gonna dance, Barnes?”

He looked back over, shaking his head. “Nah. I’m good watching you.”

Rolling your eyes, you got back to work, continuing to bop to the music, fully aware that he was watching you now.

A little while later, you were repainting the edges of the boat orange, when you looked over and noticed Bucky playing around with a paint scraper…sitting right on the edge that you had just finished repainting a few minutes ago.

“Buck!”

He looked over, eyebrows raised. “Yeah?”

You bit your lip, trying to hold back your mischievous grin. Shaking your head, you waved dismissively. “Never mind!”

He gave you a confused sort of pout, before shrugging and continuing to fidget with the tool. It wasn’t until later when he got up to help Sam tear the metal plating off the edge that it came to light with Sam chuckling and raising an eyebrow.

“Sit in something there, Barnes?”

“What?”

Bucky craned his neck back, eyes widening when he saw the orange paint on his ass, contrasting with his jeans. You let out a cackle and he whipped towards you, pointing at you accusingly, although the small uptick of his lips let you know he wasn’t really mad.

“Y/N!”

“No, no, no!” You laughed, sprinting across the deck, shrieking when he grabbed your waist and spun you around. You gasped when he grabbed a paint brush and painted an orange stripe right down the front of your shirt. “James!”

“Justice, sweetheart.” He breathed in your ear with a chuckle.

You shook your head, wiggling out of his hold. “This is a nice shirt!”

“You should’ve thought about that before.” He smirked, crossing his arms. Your eyes caught sight of Sam behind him, who raised an eyebrow and the bucket of paint he was holding. You nodded with a little giggle, making Bucky’s eyes narrow. “What’s so funny over there, do - holy shit!

You guffawed as orange paint dripped down his head, Sam standing innocently behind him with the now empty bucket behind his back. “Samuel!”

“Oops?”

“I’m gonna kill you!”

“Try me old man!”

“Fuck!

“Doll!”

“Oh my God!”

Paint, orange and white since those were the only cans they had out, flew across the deck, paint brushes being used like fencing swords.

You found out too late that wet paint was a little bit slippery and you slid on a huge puddle, sending you, not onto the ground below, but over the side of the edge into the water. 

“Doll!”

“Cher, you good?!” 

The three of you looked at each other, stunned for a moment, before bursting into fits of laughter and you nodded. “I’m good!”

The boys helped you get back up onto the dock, Sarah appearing with towels she conjured up out of thin air. “Let’s get you into dry clothes. Do you have-?”

“We’ve got some. We got a bag.” You told her with a grin, facing the guys. “You two should clean up some, too. Sammy, you’ve got a little something right there.” You pointed to your cheek, his own having a giant white splotch from his temple to his jaw. “And Buck?” You sniggered, gesturing to the whole of him. “You’ve got a lotta something right there.” 

“Ha. Ha.” He looked down. His top was practically tiger print, drenched in orange with white here and there, and his ass still orange as well. His hair, which had been plastered to his forehead, was starting to dry now, and it only made you laugh some more thinking about what a pain it’d be to get it out. For him, at least.

“God. Can’t even have a relaxing day on the boat with you two.” Sam jested once you finished up and joined him and Bucky, who had just finished dumping out some water buckets. Bucky had changed his shirt and it looked like they tried wiping their faces, but Sam still had small lines of white down his face. “How ‘bout a couple of drinks? Surely you can’t ruin that too.”

“Ruin?” You gasped in mock offence. “Sammy! I just made the day more…interesting.”

Sam chuckled, ruffling Bucky’s hair, which still had orange streaks in it. “Let’s go get some beers.”

************

You chatted for a bit, mainly you and Sam with you asking how Sarah and the boys were while Bucky with your legs in his lap, just listening to you two and sipping at his bottle. You had his hand in your own lap, wiping it down with a rag due to the paint that got on it.

“You’re lucky this is vibranium, you know.” You commented off handedly. “If it was your other one, it’d definitely get stained.”

“And who’s fault is that?” Bucky shot back with a teasing grin.

“Sammy’s.”

Sam spluttered. “Wh-what?! You started it!” You laughed, shaking your head.

Falling into a comfortable silence with just the water and birds chirping as your soundtrack, you downed the rest of your drink, which Bucky took as finished. “Well,” you moved your legs to let him stand up. He leaned forwards to clink his bottle against Sam’s and you stood up and stretched. “Gotta catch our flight tomorrow. Get a hotel room for the night.” Sam gave you a look to which you rolled your eyes at as Bucky set down his bottle and grabbed his jacket. “Crash, you know?”

“So you’re just gonna set me up like that, huh?”

“Well I don’t wanna make it weird for your family.”

“Just stay here.” You laughed as Sam babbled on about how nice the people were here, grabbing the jacket Bucky handed to you. It was getting a bit chilly from the breeze on the water and the sun going down. Plus, that water was cold.

“But don’t flirt with my sister.”

You cackled at Bucky’s face, that turned serious, his head shaking. “No.”

“‘Cause if you do I’ll have Carlos cut you up and feed you to the fish.”

“Can’t hold back the dog, Wilson. It’s been stuck in a kennel too long.”

Bucky turned to you, grabbing your jaw and squishing your cheeks together. “You know what? You need to shush. You’ve been snippy all day.”

You just smiled as innocently as you could with your lips being held by his metal fingers. “You’re too fun to mess with.”

He pecked your nose. “As long as I’m the only one you’re messing with. I’ll be right back.” He let you go and spun around, maneuvering around the boat in a way only a trained assassin could do.

“Oh my God, please! Please just put me out of my fucking misery! You’re killing me, cher.”

“What?” You gaped at him.

“Don’t act innocent!” Sam huffed, giving you a pointed look. “If I have to watch you two make googly eyes at you one more fucking day with neither of you doing anything about it-”

You rolled your eyes. “Oh come on, Sammy-”

“Don’t ‘come on, Sammy’ me! And don’t come at me with that ‘he doesn’t like me back’ bullshit. If you think for a second that boy wouldn’t follow you to the depths of the fucking ocean, you’re blind as a bat, woman.”

You shrugged, pushing up the sleeves of Bucky’s too big jacket. “It just…hasn’t come up.”

He deadpanned, shaking his head and standing up. “That’s it. I’m done. You two are driving me insane. I’m gonna lock you in a room until you have the conversation that needs to be had the next time either of you does something stupid.”

“Yikes. That’s gonna be quick.” At his look, your smile dropped and you nodded. “Okay, okay. I’ll…I’ll bring it up later.”

“Tomorrow or nothing.”

“Sam-”

Sam tilted his head, brow creasing. “Is it still Steve? Is that what this is still about? Because he’s gone, and he’s been gone and you need to get over it-”

“No. It’s not…” You sighed. “It clicked the other day. When we were hanging out. Steve left and, yeah, I might always love him, but Bucky…God…I love Bucky, Sam.”

The man grinned proudly. “I’m glad to finally hear you admit it. So what’s the problem?”

“It’s still complicated, right? I mean…he’s his best friend and I’ve never dealt with stuff like this before and-”

Sam’s smile dropped and he groaned again. “Imma head out. I can’t take this. Dumbass and dumberass. I swear to God.” You sniggered a bit as he grumbled, walking towards the ramp to climb off the boat, just as Bucky reappeared.

“Hey-”

“Nope! Not right now, Barnes! I can’t handle it! I can’t!”

Bucky gave you a weird look. “What’d you do?”

You chuckled, shaking your head. “Nothing.”

“Well, c’mon, doll. Sarah said she’s gonna make gumbo for us, whatever that is.” He held out his hand as you walked over. 

“You’re such a city boy.” You teased lightly, taking his hand and letting him help you pull you onto the dock. You shoved the sleeves of his jackets up again since they slipped from the first time. “Let’s go get some dinner. I’m starving.”

******************

“We have the couch and a mattress we can pull out, I just have to make Sam get it from the attic-”

“That’s alright. The couch is fine.” Bucky waved dismissively while you nodded in agreement.

Sarah raised an eyebrow at you two. “For both of you?”

You blinked, exchanging a look with Bucky, before shrugging and turning back to her. “Yeah.”

“Don’t fight it, Sarah.” Sam peeked out from the hall. “They’ve got a weird relationship.” You stuck your tongue out at the man while Bucky rolled his eyes, dropping your duffle bag by the couch. “How mature, Y/N.” Sam mimicked your action.

“Uhm…okay. Let me set up the couch for you then.”

Once everything was set up, you and Bucky thanking her for dinner - delicious and you’d never seen Bucky smile so much, the boys having kept him highly entertained throughout the meal - and for letting you crash, Sam and Sarah headed to their rooms, the boys already having been tucked in for the night.

“Are you gonna sleep on the floor?” You asked quietly, sitting down on the couch and doing the things for your night routine you didn’t already do in the bathroom.

“I think I’ll be okay.” He sat besides you. “I’ve been doing fine the past week or so.”

You smiled at him. “That’s good. Alright.” You stood up and stretched. “Let me just make sure everything’s in the bag and ready-”

You yelped when his arm wrapped around your waist, pulling you into his chest, shifting down to lay against the couch’s arm. “Do it in the morning.” He yawned, looking up at you tiredly. “I wanna go to sleep.”

“Then go to sleep, Buck. I’ll be right back.” He shook his head, his hold tightening as he sunk deeper into the couch.

“No. I fall asleep better with you.”

You rolled your eyes but grinned, settling down with your legs between his, your chin resting on his sternum so you could still look at him. He beamed, but you could see the exhaustion settling in, and he grabbed the blanket Sarah left over the back of the couch and draped it across your back, over both of your legs, before his arms crossed snugly under the covers at the small of your back.

“Dinner was nice tonight. I haven’t had a meal cooked like that in ages.” You hummed.

He nodded in agreement. “I think that’s the first time I’ve sat around a table with a family since the 40′s.”

You raised an eyebrow. “Did you like it?”

“Yeah...kinda makes me wish I had my own.”

“Your own what?”

“Family.”

You bit your lip, shyly avoiding his gaze. “You’re my family, Buck.”

A light kiss was pressed to your forehead, his fingers bringing your gaze back to his. “There’s no one else I’d rather have.” The room lapsed into silence again, the clock ticking on the wall, the low sound of crickets outside.

“You have really pretty eyes.” You mumbled, tilting your head slightly as you studied them. They always held so much emotion in them, especially in contrast to when you first met him as Soldat. They matched the water you fell in, and you wouldn’t mind falling over and over into them.

“Yeah, well, you’re just really pretty inside and out, so I think you’ve got me beat, doll.” He whispered back.

“You know who else is pretty? Sarah.”

He nodded with a hum. “That’s true. But I meant what I said. You’ll always be my doll.”

“So you’re not gonna ask her out?”

He gave you a weird look as you traced his sharp jawline absentmindedly. “Nah, sweetheart. It’s just…some harmless flirting. Except on Sam’s part.”

You gave a soft huff of laughter. “Yeah…he’s gonna strangle you. It is nice to see you like that, though. Flirty. Relaxed. Happy.”

“You make me happy, sweetheart.” He hummed, nosing your temple. “The road trip helped. I’m learning everything from you. Maybe not the flirting, but the carefree part.”

You blinked at him, finger stopping for a moment as you thought. “Oh…”

You felt his fingers dance up your spine, making you shiver slightly. “What I would give to know what’s goin’ on inside that pretty lil’ head’a yours, doll.”

“I just think it’s funny you’re learning how to be carefree from me…when I just started learning how to do it myself.”

“Oh yeah?”

You nodded, your finger continuing its path down his jaw. “I think it started with the goats.”

“The goats?”

You nodded again, resting your cheek on his chest, watching your finger move up from his chin. Once you got to the end of his jaw, you lightly scratched his scruff. “In Wakanda. Our goats.” You weren’t looking at him, so you didn’t see the way he physically melted at your words, his eyes going soft, his lips turning up slightly.

“Our goats, huh?”

But your tired brain wasn’t really processing what he said, instead focusing on the features your finger was now tracing - over his lips, up his nose. “You’re pretty too, Buck. Did you know that? Inside and out.”

He craned his neck to kiss your forehead. “Go to sleep, cuddle bug.”

Nodding, you nuzzled into his chest, finger feeling over the bumps and indents on the dog tags resting near your head. You tried going to sleep, but you kept shifting, your mind not shutting off.

“Hey, sleepyhead, I’m trying to, you know, sleep.”

“Sorry.” You apologized meekly. “I just…I dunno. I can’t.”

“Are you comfortable?” He peeked open and eye to look at you questioningly. You nodded. “Is it too hot? We can take the blanket off. I know I’m a walking furnace-”

You shook your head. “No. I don’t know why. I just can’t sleep.”

He licked his lips thoughtfully, before cradling your head and guiding you back down to his chest. “Lay down, sweetheart. Relax.” He stroked your hair, moving his head down to rub circles in your back muscles, pressing down harder when he felt knots. 

You hummed, your eyes closing. “That feels good.”

“Shshsh. Just go to sleep.” His lips pressed against your head once more, lingering a bit longer than they usually do, as you felt yourself drift off. You cuddled his side, throwing a leg over his waist, before nodding off, only barely hearing his words. “Attagirl. There we are.”

******************

“Doll?” You felt a shift underneath you and groaned, your eyes barely cracking open. “Hey, sleepyhead…it’s okay. I’m just gonna slip out from under ya, alright? Gonna go help Sammy with somethin’.”

You raised an eyebrow, letting him move you against the cushions as he sat up on the edge of the couch. “Sammy?”

“Yeah.” He bent over and kissed your cheek. You stretched out your limbs, about to rub your eyes, when he stopped you, kissing the inside of your wrists. “No. Not you, doll. Go back to sleep.” 

“Bu’...’m gonna help.” You slurred out, looking at him with confused, squinty eyes.

He chuckled, shaking his head. “It’s okay. Rest. You can help when you wake up again. Okay?” You mumbled out an “okay”, bringing the covers up to your chin and snuggling deeper into the cushions. “There ya go, cuddle bug. Good girl.” There was another kiss, one to your temple this time, before you slipped back into unconsciousness.

******************

The next time you woke up was because of a clatter in the kitchen. You yawned and sat up, stretching, eyebrows furrowing when you realized Bucky wasn’t with you. It took you a moment to remember your conversation, which you half thought you dreamt.

“Boys!”

“Sorry!”

You chuckled at the shouts, rubbing your eyes. “I am so sorry!” Sarah apologized, looking over at you from the stove. Trying to make the boys breakfast before school. Do you want anything? Eggs? Cereal? Toast?”

“Uh, cereal’s fine.” You stretched out your back again, before throwing back the covers and standing up, a little shakily.

“You wouldn’t happen to know where Sam went, would you?”

You raised an eyebrow. “Uh, I think him and Bucky went to fix something on the boat. I don’t for sure, though.”

Sarah groaned. “He probably went to fix the stupid water pump which doens’t need fixing. Dumbass.”

You chuckled, padding over into the kitchen. “Yeah. I just work with him. I can’t imagine growing up with him.”

“Trust me; some days you want to throw him in a box and send him out to sea. Bowls are in that cupboard.”

You snickered, moving over to grab a bowl from the cupboard she pointed to. “That’s how I feel with Bucky. Sam is less often, but when those two get together…it’s a full zoo.”

She laughed at that, nodding as she got out the milk and a few boxes of cereal for you to choose from, handing you a spoon. “That I believe.”

“Thank you.”

“Of course.”

You started pouring your cereal, watching in slight amusement as she got the boys ready for school. “Bus is here! Get out the door! Bye! Love you! Make sure you take those extra lunches to-!”

“Yeah, mom! We know! Love you too!”

You gave a slight smirk as she huffed, looking around the kitchen at the pans and dishes left out. “Kids, huh?”

She gave you a smile. “Yeah. They’re a handful, but I wouldn’t trade them for anything. How about you? Any thoughts of kids?”

“Me?” Your eyes widened, nearly choking on your food. “Oh God no. Not right now, at least. I don’t even have a solid house right now. My life’s too off the walls for that.”

“And Bucky?”

You raised an eyebrow as she leaned on the counter. “Bucky? What about Bucky?”

“Does he want kids?”

“Uh…I dunno.” You shrugged, clearing your throat as you remembered your talk last night. “Kinda makes me wish I had my own.” You quickly pushed his words aside. “He hasn’t told me.”

“Wait, wait. You two…aren’t together then?”

You blinked, your eyes widening again. “Together? Me and Bucky? No…why? Did Sam say something?”

Her expression morphed into one of disbelief, crossing her arms. “Sam didn’t say anything. You guys did. Are you seriously expecting me to believe you aren’t together?”

“We’re not! I mean - he was flirting with you yesterday-”

“Right, okay. Honey, that’s flirting. And it’s harmless. The way he follows you like a puppy and you look at him like he hung the stars? That’s feelings. And that’s a lot more impactful than flirting.”

You frowned in contemplation. It was really that obvious? You were really that blind? This whole time? You knew Sam knew - but you just figured that’s because he’s been there since it started. And Sharon knew for the same reason. But Sarah? The woman you just met the day prior and had barely had a conversation with?

“It’s, uh…” You chewed on your cheek, swirling your cereal around. “It’s complicated.”

Sarah didn’t look impressed. “Do you like him?”

“I’m kinda in love with him-”

She shrugged, not letting you finish your bashful statement. “Then I don’t see what’s complicated about it.”

And that was that. She turned to clean up breakfast, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

You thought it was more complicated than that. I mean…you were in love with your best friend. Who left you. With the guy you had feelings for who just so happened to be your best friend/crush’s best friend. And now you were completely in love with your best friend’s best friend, but your best friend still had a piece of your heart.

But…you loved Bucky. And he was here. And Steve was not. And when you put it that way…you guess it wasn’t so complicated after all.

******************

You snickered as you walked up behind Sarah, the woman berating the men for not leaving the water pump along like she asked.

“Hi, Sarah.”

Sam shot Bucky a warning look, who grinned, but you were surprised to see Sarah ignore him, sending you a knowing glance instead, before turning back to Sam. “I told you specifically that the water pump was not the problem, and yet, here you are.”

“Yep, Samuel.”

You chuckled, Bucky shooting you a wink. “Yeah, Samuel.”

Sam narrowed his eyes at you, turning to Sarah. “In our defense, you were supposed to be done long before you woke up.”

You nearly facepalmed at his “defensive” and you were trying so hard to hold back laughing as she told Sam off, sending them away.

“I don’t wanna hear a peep from you.” Sam pointed at you, but that only made your chortles come out, and you didn’t even bother hiding them. “She’s a very mean person.”

“It’s tough love.”

You giggled as they started arguing, slipping an arm around their waists, their arms instinctually coming up to your shoulders.

“Oh my God. A prowess?”

“Yes, Y/N. A prowess.”

“You know, maybe if you someone let me help-”

“Hey, woah! You were tired! I let you sleep! I was being nice!”

“Too late now. I’ll be lucky if Sarah lets me within a hundred feet of it!”

“She got you so good, Sammy!”

“I agree with Buck for once! You’re too snippy right now! And c’mon man! Stop flirting with my sister!”

“It’s my natural charm.”

“Charm? What charm?”

“Ouch, doll! That one hurt!”

****************

“Okay.” You stepped out of the bathroom, walking over to the couch and setting the bag down on it. “I’ve got everything packed. We’ve got a little over an hour until we need to head out which gives you two time to go set something up for Sammy and maybe even a bit or training before we leave.” 

Bucky frowned. “You’re not gonna come out?”

“I will in a bit. I just got a phone call I need to take.”

Sam narrowed his eyes. “Government call?”

You gave a mocking smile. “Can you guess what they want to talk about? It’s okay. I’ll survive. It’s only a phone call, so I can always hang up. Pretend I didn’t have good service. I do it all the time.”

“I’m sure you do.” Sam chuckled. “In that case, I’m gonna go grab some stuff and get the shield.” As he walked out, he made sure to mouth at you behind Bucky’s back ‘conversation’ making you swallow thickly. You were planning on talking to Bucky anyways, and with Sam’s insistence…

“Okay, so, I was thinking when we get back-”

“Can I talk to you?”

Bucky stopped digging through the bag, blinking at you in surprise at your sudden burst. “Uh…well, we already are, so yes.” He chuckled, straightening and crossing his arms.

“I wanna have the conversation.”

He was left stunned, once again, his mouth opening and closing and his weight shifting form one foot to the other. “Like…that conversation? R-right now? Are you sure?”

You winced at her nervousness. “Sorry, sorry. I know it’s kinda…I just…I need to talk about it. Now.”

“Okay, okay. No, that’s fine. Don’t apologize. I just wasn’t expecting it.” Bucky cleared his throat. “That’s all.”

“Okay…” You breathed with a small nod. You opened your mouth, but Bucky shook his head.

“I hafta say this first; I didn’t mean to hurt you by telling you about Steve. I-I dunno what I thought. That it’d give you closure or something. I dunno. But it hurt you and I’m sorry. That wasn’t my intention.”

“Buck-”

“I was jealous. And guilty. And mad. And upset. I still am. Kinda. I guess. I dunno.” Bucky shook his head, running his hand through his hair and all you could do was gape at him as he started confessing to you. “Remember when we danced? In Madripoor? Doll…I don’t wanna dance ever again if it’s not with you. I fucking love you, Y/N. And not in the way we’ve said it before. I’m in love with you. I have been for-for a while now. I just - you were Steve’s. Steve loved you and you loved Steve and that was that and I was just the broken childhood best friend. But Steve left and he told me to take care of you and I didn’t know what to do with that, because you still love Steve. I think. I dunno. And I didn’t want to break what we have because you’re all I have left of him. You and that stupid shield. You’re my family. My home. I really meant it when I told you that. And that’s why I couldn’t tell you. Because it means too much for me to break what we have because I fell in love with my best friend’s girl. You know?”

He looked at you with pleading eyes, begging you to understand, but your brain was still trying to process what he was telling you.

“Oh God…” He groaned. “And now I just told you everything and you’re looking at me like that wasn’t what you wanted to hear and now I’m thinking this wasn’t the conversation you were thinking it was going to be-”

You were moving across the room before you could stop yourself, pulling him by the teal Henley you knew was comfortable having worn it to bed before when you visited him in New York, and slanting your lips over his.

His breathing hitched and he froze, and for a hot second you thought you made everything worse, but then he was kissing you back and his hands were on your hips and he was pulling you closer and it felt so fucking good you didn’t want to pull back for air.

“Shut up.” You muttered when you finally did pull back, your forehead against his, your eyes clenched shut. “Shut up, shut up, shut up, shut up.” You pulled back to look up at him, chests heaving against each other, your eyes prickling. “I’m not good at this. I’m not good at opening up. I only ever was good at it with Steve but Bucky…I’ve been doing it with you. This whole time and I didn’t even realize it until the conversation in the car.”

He reached up to cup your cheeks, wiping away the relieved tears that were falling from the weight you were finally getting off your chest.

“I love you. I’m in love with you. How could I not be? After all that time in Wakanda? I was never Steve’s girl, Bucky. I wanted to be. Dammit, did I wanna be, but I wasn’t. Not really. And he’s gone. But you’re not. And I don’t know why it took me so long to see that. That you’re the one in front of me. You’re the one who held me when I needed it once he left. You’re the one that would listen to my rambles that I’m just realizing was most of our phone calls. You’re not just the broken childhood friend. Don’t ever think that. I don’t pick up the phone at five in the morning after searching for a friend until two for just anyone. Even Steve’s best friend. And I’m such an idiot because I’ve been pushing away my feelings all these years for Steve and then I let them out with you at the wrong time, because I love Steve, Bucky, but I’m not in love with him. Not since I fell in love with you. And I know it doesn’t make sense, but Steve was the first one I cared about and that’s just how I feel and I can try to explain, but-”

His lips crashed onto yours again and you could taste the salty tears that were pouring down your cheeks, but you didn’t care. He was holding you and he was kissing you and it was even more perfect than you thought it’d be.

“You’re adorable when you ramble, but Jesus Christ, shuddup, doll.” He breathed. “Just tell me you love me. Tell me you love me just a fraction of how much I love you.”

You looked up into those ocean eyes, your own shining with earnest affection. “James Buchanan Barnes. I love you.”

“That’s all I need to know.” He murmured against your lips, holding your head against his, still wiping away your tears. It felt like with each one that fell, you felt lighter and lighter. Like they were taking away every fear and anxiety you held within you for the past six months.

“Alright! I was thinking we could just set up in these trees out here - holy shit! Is it done? Did you do it? Did I miss it? Has the conversation been had?”

Bucky chuckled as you giggled. “He has the worst timing.” The last two words were loud enough so Sam could hear, although the man heard the whole sentence. 

“I’m gonna take that as a yes!” Sam cheered. “Halle-fucking-lujah! Finally! I was that close to locking you two in the attic.”

You shook your head at Sam’s personal celebration, drowning the rest of his words out as you looked at Bucky, who swept his thumb over your cheek catching one last tear, before pecking your lips.

“I finally get to kiss where I really want to.” He spoke softly, kissing your lips again. “Are you mine, doll?”

“I thought you said I’d always be your doll.” You answered cheekily. He grinned, kissing you again, pulling you against him by the hips.

“Okay, okay! That’s enough! We get it! You’re in love, finally, but I don’t wanna see it anymore! Now will you come help me with this shit?”

Bucky left one more lingering kiss on your lips, before you pushed him away reluctantly. “I’ll be right out.”

He nodded, moving over to help Sam carry the things he’d gathered.

You watched them put it all up from the window, gnawing on your cheek as you spun your phone in your hands. Coming to a decision, you tossed your phone in the duffle bag and walked out with it just as the boys finished.

“That was a quick phone call.” Sam raised an eyebrow.

You shrugged. “Didn’t call them. If they really need me, they’ll find me.”

Bucky grinned as you set the bag down under a tree, pecking your lips when you got close enough for him to grab by the waist to hold you against him. You rolled your eyes, shoving him playfully away and giggling as Sam let out a groan.

“Alright. Let’s see what you’ve got, Sammy.”

~

><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><><

Bucky knew he needed the tough love talk Sam was giving him. He needed to hear it. Because, deep down, he had known it all along, he just refused to believe it. He tried doing it. Making amends. He knew he wasn’t though. And of course he knew immediately who that one person would be.

“And hey.” Bucky looked at him. “Let me tell you what. Telling my girl all that you told her? That’s a good start. I’m proud of you. Both of you. You’re already happier. I can see it in your eyes.”

Bucky chuckled, shaking his head as he thought of the gorgeous woman he nearly let slip through his fingers. He looked over to the house, where she was inside somewhere getting ready after suddenly deciding she needed to shower before they left. “I was stupid.”

“Yeah you were. You both were. I’m so relieved it’s over.” Sam nudged him. “Treat her right, Buck. She deserves it.”

“I know…I just hope I can.”

Sam shook his head. “Uh-uh. Don’t do that. You were just starting to use that cyborg brain of yours! She chose you. And before you say anything,” Sam cut Bucky off from speaking as he opened his mouth to object. “She chose you before Steve left. It just took her dumbass this long to realize it.”

Bucky nodded, a small smile on his face. “Yeah…okay…” Before he could say anything, the goddess herself stepped out, jogging over, looking absolutely amazing in her jeans and his t-shirt. “Good talk.”

Sam laughed at his quick ending of the conversation as she came up besides them. “Talking about me?” She asked cheekily, eyes shining. Bucky couldn’t help but take her under his arm, pecking her lips. Now that he could, he didn’t think he could stop. He was addicted to say the least.

Throwing Bucky a wink, Sam shrugged. “Just all the things that get on our nerves.”

“Ha ha.” She rolled her eyes. “We better get going.”

Bucky and Sam clapped hands. “You know Karli won’t quit.”

Bucky smiled. “Ah. You call us when you have a lead and we’ll be there.”

Y/N stepped forwards to give Sam a hug. “Anytime, Sammy.”

“Eh. Anytime between noon and midnight.” Bucky corrected. “Or noon and ten. Noon and five…you better just call at noon to be safe.”

Sam rolled his eyes. “Sure, sure.”

“Not necessarily as a team.” Bucky continued, grabbing the bag, getting Y/N back in her spot at his side under his arm.

“Nope!”

“We’re not that good.”

“Definitely not.”

“We’re professionals.”

“Definitely.”

“And, uh, we’re partners.”

Sam snapped, pointing at him. “Coworkers.”

“But we’re also a couple of guys with a couple mutual friends.”

“Ones now gone and you’re dating the other.”

“So we’re a couple of guys…with a badass to help out.”

“I can live with that.”

“Perfect.”

“Oh my God.” Y/N let out that laugh Bucky could never get enough of, shaking her head at the two of them. “You forgot dumbasses.”

Sam shook his head. “Nuh-uh. That’s your couple name.”

“Dumbasses?”

“Oh yeah.” The three of them came to a stop, Bucky and his girl - God he loved confirming it now - facing Sam. “Thanks for the help, guys. Meant a lot.”

Bucky patted his shoulder. “Of course.”

Y/N shot him a wink. “Until we meet again, Sammy.”

“Until then, cher.”

Bucky couldn’t stop his grin as she wrapped her arms around his waist, the two of them starting to walk to the main road where she already ordered an Uber. He looked down at her, kissing her lips for the nth time in the past hour.

“I wish I didn’t wait so long,” he told her seriously. “But I’d wait a thousands more centuries if it meant I get to call you mine.”

She giggled, shaking her head. “You’re such a sap! But…” she moved up to kiss him and his heart stuttered. He knew he had a goofy grin on when she pulled back, but he couldn’t help it. Especially when she laughed again. “I have to agree with you on that, Buckaroo.”

[julek]

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My Top Posts in 2022:

#5

so back when the year started, @srapsodia gave me the best birthday gift i could’ve ever asked for (my boys being Soft and In Bed) and i forgot to share them with the world. thank you, raps, for thinking of me and giving me Them <3

992 notes - Posted November 20, 2022

#4

read on ao3

When Geralt sees the body on the table, he shakes his head with something akin to fondness.

“We need to stop meeting like this,” he tells Jaskier, whose eyes haven’t opened yet, whose skin still shines pale and unblemished. “One day I’ll really dissect you.”

“Mm,” Jaskier grunts, displeased.

Geralt takes his apron off, given his services won’t be needed with this particular costumer, and leans back against the sink of the mortuary to wait. It usually takes Jaskier a few minutes to regain movement of his limbs, a few more minutes to get his words back.

“What was it this time?” Geralt asks conversationally, mostly because he knows Jaskier won’t answer him. “Jealous husband poisoned your meal? Didn’t look where you were going and shared a kiss with the local transport vehicle?”

“Hng.”

Geralt nods, reaching for the cabinet door. “I know it’s cold. I’m sorry. You know how it is.”

He lays a blanket over Jaskier’s still-rigid legs, and checks his pulse. Faint, but there.

“Just a few more minutes,” he says, watching blood slowly color Jaskier’s cheeks, flowing down the purple-blue veins under his eyes. His arms are twitching. “You want coffee or tea? I got croissants from the bakery you like.”

“‘ea,” Jaskier manages.

“Okay,” Geralt says. “We can breakfast upstairs. I know you don’t like the smell in here.”

Geralt does, though. There’s something about the smell of formaldehyde and antiseptic that soothes his mind. He’s surprised, really, that, for someone who’s visited his mortuary so many times, Jaskier still hasn’t gotten used to it.

Some things aren’t for him to know.

“Ah,” Geralt murmurs, Jaskier’s blue eyes blinking hazily at him. “Welcome back.”

Jaskier glowers at him. It looks more cute than menacing.

Geralt pushes Jaskier’s hair back, presses a kiss to his forehead. Ice cold, as usual.

“When I said I couldn’t do date night because work was busy,” he whispers, “I didn’t mean for you to literally show up at work.”

Jaskier raises his eyebrows, as if to say well, and immediately grimaces. Expressive facial gestures right after waking up mess up with the slow progress his body makes, and now he’ll be stuck with an inquisitive expression for a few hours.

Geralt definitely doesn’t laugh at him.

(He does). (A little). (He also makes some horrible puns). (Jaskier will make him pay, later).

Jaskier’s hand intertwines with his own. A weak embrace, but Geralt can feel the warmth of his touch in his soul.

“Roach missed you,” he tells him, linking their fingers together. “She’ll be delighted to see you.”

Jaskier’s head turns slightly.

“Well, maybe not delighted. Amused, at least.”

“Mm.”

Finally, Jaskier’s legs regain blood flow, and he shakes them out a little. Geralt helps him sit up on the table.

“How are you feeling?”

Jaskier nods. He looks tired, as he often does after waking up, but everything else seems normal.

“Okay,” Geralt says. He presses his forehead against Jaskier’s. “Still like your tea with four sugars, then?”

See the full post

1,000 notes - Posted May 28, 2022

#3

“Jas,” Geralt calls, not taking his eyes off his journal.

Jaskier stops strumming his lute with a palm on the strings. “Yes?”

“Would you pass me an orange from our pack?”

He hears Jaskier murmur an assent, and goes back to the ardent task of drawing a cockatrice that resembles the one he’d fought the week prior. There’s a rustling sound as Jaskier rifles through their things, a triumphant little ah-ha! as Jaskier, presumably, finds the orange, but then, there’s silence.

Geralt sketches the final lines of the cockatrice to his satisfaction, and takes a look behind him to see what could be taking Jaskier so long in the simple delivery of the fruit.

He finds Jaskier poking his tongue out of the corner of his mouth, brow furrowed in concentration as he picks at the orange between prying fingers.

“What are you doing?” Geralt asks, coming to crouch beside him.

“Oh!” Jaskier says, his eyes snapping up, as if he’d forgotten Geralt was there at all. “I was just getting all the white stuff out for you,” he says, and presents his palms to Geralt.

It’s a small orange, halved, bright and plump in Jaskier’s hands, and all the white tendrils have been carefully removed.

For him.

The orange almost flies into the other direction when Geralt surges to kiss him.

“Oh,” Jaskier says when they break apart, flustered and a little dazed. “What brought that on?”

Geralt smiles, taking one half of the orange into his hands.

“You.”

1,046 notes - Posted July 9, 2022

#2

“Yen,” Geralt says through gritted teeth. “It’s not wearing off.”

She peers at him across the table. “What isn’t?”

He growls. The potion, he wants to say, the stupid potion that had been innocently placed among his own elixirs, wearing a nondescript label and looking innocuous enough. The potion that is making his every thought escape through his tongue and jump out of his mouth, into the world of the living.

That potion.

“Mm,” she nods. “It’ll go away soon enough. The urge.”

They both follow Jaskier’s moving figure with their eyes, the bard prancing around the tavern floorboards with practiced ease and a salacious grin on his pink-bitten lips. They watch as he belts out a high note, sweat clinging to his skin, pooling in the hollow of his throat, uncovered now that he’s shed his doublet on the back of a chair.

Geralt tries very hard not to imagine what it would feel like to put his mouth there, because it’s a stupid thing to think, and because the filter that usually keeps stupid thoughts at the back of his mind where they belong is broken, and it would be very unwise to let such imaginings out in the wild.

But—

“Seems our bard has found himself some company,” Yennefer says, a smug smirk on her lips, as she waves in his general direction. “Such a handsome fellow, too.”

And, because he’s weak, Geralt tears his gaze from a knot on the wooden table and finds that Jaskier’s singing has stopped, and he’s now animatedly chatting with a patron. A broad-shouldered, heavy-handed man, with charming brown eyes and curls that bounce on his head every time he laughs that musical laughter at something Jaskier’s said, and a well-trimmed beard that frames his face ever so nicely. A man whose hand is resting on Jaskier’s forearm, his thumb rubbing distracted circles on it as Jaskier draws closer and closer.

Geralt’s tankard creaks ominously in his hand.

Yen has the gall to look amused. “Anything on your mind, dear?”

Geralt tries to ignore the way his mind is screaming at him, but it doesn’t work, of course, because that godsdamned serum is still coursing through his veins, still making him— “I want to draw my sword and place it on that man’s neck and watch him sweat, and when I’ve made sure he’s gone I want to take Jaskier back here and have him sit on my lap and show everyone who he belongs to.”

It all comes out in one breath, so fast that he doesn’t have time to feel ashamed, and he feels as though he’s never talked so much in his life. He probably hasn’t.

“Interesting,” says Yen, watching Jaskier saunter back to their table. “Very interesting.”

1,213 notes - Posted March 26, 2022

My #1 post of 2022

Jaskier turns in his bedroll again.

“—fucking winter and its wintery fucking— cold as balls, ice frozen—”

“Jask?”

“—good for nothing— oh.” His tossing stops. The ground is so fucking cold. “Sorry, did I wake you?”

One golden eye peers at him. He would say Geralt looked annoyed, but he can’t see most of his face, tucked as it is under his cloak, so he chooses to interpret it as friendly concern. “Your muttering did.”

Jaskier smiles sheepishly at him, even though Geralt probably can’t see him either, with his scarf tied around his neck and covering most of his face. “Sorry. Just...”

“Can’t sleep?”

Jaskier shakes his head. It’s their fifth year on the Path together, the first one Geralt’s invited him along to spend the winter at Kaer Morhen with him — and Jaskier’s excited, really, but sleeping on the forest floor with a thin bedroll and definitely not enough blankets kind of dampens his spirits a little.

They’ve laid their bedrolls side by side, the fire keeping their feet warm, but still Jaskier can’t fend off the chill that’s seeped into his bones. He would blame it on his frilly, beautifully impractical clothing, with its soft but thin fabrics, with its stunning trim but no insulation, but if he did, he’d basically be agreeing with Geralt, and he can’t have that. Not even in the privacy of his own mind.

(He still hasn’t ruled out the possibility that Witchers are mind-readers). (Geralt is awfully quiet whenever Jaskier brings it up, and, well, one can never be too careful).

So he’s been tossing and turning and singing lullabies to himself in a feeble attempt of finally succumbing to a warm, deep sleep. Not that it’s worked, anyway.

The single golden eye looks considering, now.

“Wha—?” Jaskier manages before Geralt stands up, the bare skin under his sleep shirt immediately reacting to the cold air of the forest and erupting in gooseflesh.

Then, a blanket is being tossed to his face.

(It smells like horse).

“There,” says Geralt, not unkindly, his voice a bit rough. “That’ll help.”

“Well,” Jaskier replies, trying to adjust the blanket without taking his hands out of his bedroll, which proves impossible. “Thanks.”

Before he can sit up straight and, like a sane person, rearrange the blanket on top of himself, Geralt’s doing it for him. His hair is a mess from where he’s been laying on it and he’s squinting, but his hands are warm as they reach for the ends of the blanket and he tucks them into Jaskier’s bedroll, making sure his body is covered.

“You’re tucking me in,” Jaskier whispers, something that suspiciously feels like love standing on his heart a little.

Geralt smiles. He smiles his soft smile, the one where his lips stretch over his face and they’re pink and pretty and there’s a shine in his eyes.

“I guess I am,” he replies, checking no corners have been missed. “We’ll reach the mountain soon. No more cold nights after that.”

Jaskier smiles. He doesn’t know what it might look like on his face, lips chapped and slightly cracked. He hopes it shows his gratitude for him.

Geralt sits back on his haunches. The smile is still there. Fonder, somehow.

“What, no kiss goodnight?” Jaskier murmurs, because he’s an idiot, because he can’t help himself.

“Mm,” Geralt says, and for a second, Jaskier thinks he’s getting up to leave, but then Geralt leans forward and there’s a gentle, sweet kiss being pressed to his forehead. His smile is bigger when he turns away. “There. Goodnight.”

Jaskier can feel the warmth on his skin, the skin Geralt pressed a kiss to. He can feel it seeping into his bones.

When he turns around, blanket firmly secured, Geralt is watching him from his own bedroll.

“Goodnight,” he mouths at him, and Geralt closes his eyes.

His cloak is covering half his face again, but Jaskier can see the smile he’s hiding anyway.

1,612 notes - Posted May 4, 2022

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[sakurashell]

I miss my boy Jean so take this cause I’m also horny and that’s it my brain can’t stop thinking about this. Also this is not proofread so ignore any possible mistake

18 + under the cut

word count: 807

as always, reblogs are appreciated!

Jean is a sweet lover. He’s been from the first date, and he never changed. He gives and gives and gives. He just loves you so much, he’s bewitched by your mind and your body and everything you do or say.

He talks about you to his friends all the time - more like brags about how you’re beautiful, smart and overall perfect for him, and his. Obviously, he’s also cocky and a show-off. He wants them to envy him, he adores noticing the way their little naughty eyes lay on your figure every time you present yourself in a clinging dress that accentuates your curves perfectly.

He treats you to dinners and lunches in expensive restaurants because he wants you to be aware of how important you are to him. Jean loves treating you like a princess, he loves doing things for you, whether that means buying you something - even if you specifically told him not to spend all his money on you countless times - or make sure you feel good in any way possible. Literally any way.

So whenever you would spend the night at his place, and eventually wake up before him and make your way to the kitchen to prepare some coffee and heat up two croissants in the microwave, he’d come up behind you, hands gently but firmly placing on your hips, and pull you closer to his bare chest, kissing your temple first and murmuring a sweet “‘morning, baby.”

Nothing odd about it, right? Usual couple stuff. But no, nothing about him is usual. See, Jean firmly believes that a good beginning bodes well, and he acts on it by trailing soft kisses down your neck as soon as he wakes up and finds you in his kitchen - making breakfast for him - with his big shirt on and nothing else underneath, aside from your panties. The marks he’s left on you the night before are a vivid purple, and his cock can’t help but twitch at the flashbacks and the awareness that he gets to call you his girlfriend.

You’re delicious, and Jean takes pride in having you by his side. Most of all, he takes pride in the way you whimper as soon as his fingers slip under the piece of cloth hiding your skin from him, and the moment he pinches your nipples and presses his crotch against your ass, he knows he got you trapped. “‘m still sore Jean, go easy.” you huff, head thrown back on his shoulder as one of his hands slither in your panties.

He sneers at your reaction, you get riled up so quickly, it’s no wonder you’re already wet when his digits swipe through your folds. He finds the way your body just naturally reacts to him to be endearing. He teases your clit for a while, not even kissing you, for he wants to indulge in the way your face scrunches up in pleasure, and your pretty lips part to let out the most delicious of whines.

“I’ll be gentle with you, hm?” and he’s lowering his boxers as he speaks, whipping out his cock from the fabric and handling it with his free hand, giving it a few strokes as you take the hint and bring the hem of your shirt between your teeth, hands gripping the counter of the kitchen. He loves how dumb you get, nodding witlessly when he asks you if you’re ready.

And he’s gentle, indeed, slotting into you slowly and stretching you out inch by inch, your walls entirely embracing his length once he’s all the way in. “ah fuck..perfect - you’re so perfect.” he mutters in your ear, proceeding to leave sloppy kisses from your jaw to your neck, since you’re mouth is busy holding his shirt up. Your eyes are shut, but they open to roll back each time he hits that sweet spot only he knows the existence of, and you can bet he doesn’t forget to give attention to the little bundle of nerves that’s peeking from your folds, begging to be touched.

And he notices the way your legs are shaking, knees bubbling as you force yourself to stand, he’s so proud of you for being so determined. “that’s it, you take it so well babe, shit - such a good girl.” he thrusts in and out gently, but deeply, caressing your head with his free hand because you deserve it. He feels your cunt clenching around his cock, squeezing him oh so perfectly, you fit like a glove. He has every millimeter of your body memorized.

“you cummin’ already?” he smirks against your cheek, just for the sake of seeing you dumbly bobbing your head to tell him that yes, you are cumming. “then let me feel it and I’ll fill you up real good, hm?” and you give in right away, eliciting a guttural moan from his mouth as soon as you cream his dick, throbbing around his length as he keeps pounding into you to reach his high.

He follows suit, shooting his load inside you as he sucks right under your earlobe, adding yet another mark to your skin and groaning against your neck. He takes his time, and pulls out only when he’s sure his cum will drip down your thighs, just like he always does. “I love you, my sweet girl.” he chants, and your lips finally meet his after you’ve let the shirt fall down.

“‘morning, babe.” you say back to him. It surely is going to be a good day.

SAKURASHELL © 2021. All content belongs to SAKURASHELL. Do not copy, modify, or repost my work. Do not share any of my Tumblr content on another platform without permission.

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[mermaidxatxheart]

Better Together Chapter Nine

A/N: I know it's been an insanely long time since I've posted anything. I haven't been motivated, really, and I"ve had some stuff going on in my personal life. I appreciate everyone who has stuck with me through this. I'm finally getting back into writing and your support means the world to me. If you could reblog or comment, and let other people share my works, that would go a long way.

Pairing: Poe Dameron x Reader

Word Count: 3361

Warnings: the usual, trauma, torture, Poe being soft as fuck. I swear, I love this man. swearing. Bryce is a dick.

Series Master List

Chapter Eight

Chapter Nine

Poe

It’s been six hours since breakfast. He’s starving. He wants you to take a break. He wants you to pay attention to him. He’s been babbling for the last hour about literal nonsense, stringing words together that make no sense; but you’re responding, albeit distractedly, like he’s telling a real story. He kind of wants to see how long you can keep it up, but his stomach is grumbling. 

It’s hungry work, watching you work. 

He spins the chair, keeping his feet off the ground to go faster. His head is tipped back, heavy from the night vision goggles he found. 

“Y/N.” He says and you merely hum, so caught up in your work. “Y/N.” He says again, pushing the chair around faster. You’re a blur as the world spins. 

“Uh huh?” You mutter, not even looking at him. He could probably confess to wearing your clothes when you aren’t there and you’d tell him ‘that’s great, Poe.’ 

“I’m hungry.” He says. 

“Uh huh. Five minutes.” You mutter. 

“Sweetheart, you said five minutes an hour ago.” He protests. 

“Sure. Sounds… good.” You squint and he groans. 

“I demand you go eat.” He says and the next thing he knows his chair screeches to a halt and he nearly spills out of it, dizzy and disoriented. 

“What did you say?” You ask and the goggles are lifted off his eyes. 

“I didn’t think that’d actually work.” He grins. “Have I told you how beautiful you are today?” He asks, but you don’t even blink. 

“Save it for your ship.” You retort and he laughs. 

“Come on, take a break. I’m hungry, you’re hungry. Let’s eat and then you can come back and I won’t bother you again. Please? Please please please? Pleasepleasepleaseplease?” He begs and you groan, pushing his face away. 

“Fine.” You close your books, logging them away before offering him your hand. 

He takes it, the world somehow righting itself as soon as he does. Like he’s been off balance and leaning without realizing it, and only when he’s upright again does he notice that the world wasn’t right before. 

“You’re looking at me weird.” You roll your eyes and heat creeps up the back of his neck. 

“No, I wasn’t.” Was he? He was just looking at you. 

“Your forehead is all pinched.” You say. 

“You don’t know that. You’re not even looking at me.” He protests. 

You stop in the middle of the corridor and back him into the wall. “I know my best friend.” You lift your hands slowly, letting him track your every move. Your thumbs trace over his forehead, smoothing out the lines in between his eyebrows. 

“Doesn’t mean anything.” He huffs and you crack a smile. 

“I’m sorry I kept you from food for so long.” You say, taking his hand again. 

“As you should be. I’m starving, Y/N.” He complains and you laugh. Maker, he’s missed this sound. For three weeks, he couldn’t hear it. He doesn’t know how you’re doing it now, honestly. He would just love to crawl away and not deal with anything-like he’s always done. But this time, it’s not just him suffering alone. He won’t leave you to deal with this by yourself. You’ve never left him alone. Not when he yelled and picked fights and pushed everyone away. 

You’ve always been there. 

So, he’ll be there for you. He won’t abandon you. 

You stop in front of the door and he glances at you, slowly pulling his hand out of yours. He doesn’t want to, but your insanely stupid boyfriend might be in there. Emphasis on boyfriend. You nod quickly, almost like you’re giving yourself a pep talk. 

He pulls the door open for you and you step inside quicker than you did this morning. That’s good, means you’re getting more comfortable. He just hopes it doesn’t mean your time with him will diminish. He’s not ready for that. 

You walk through the line with him, picking out your own food this time before letting him lead you over to another empty table. It’s louder in here this time. More crowded. He should have fucking waited. Another hour? This place would be empty. 

Maker, he’s fucking stupid. 

You sit next to him this time, shoulders pressed together as you start to eat. You make a little noise low in your throat and he shakes himself out of his mood. 

“That good?” He teases.

“I didn’t realize how hungry I was.” You admit, glancing over at him. “I thought you were absolutely ravenous?” You smirk and he grins, picking up his fork. 

“I am.” He starts eating, but it’s not tasting as good as he thought it would. Maybe it’s his souring mood, maybe it’s the fact that he knows he can’t stay with you today after this. He has a meeting with Leia. 

You slide your hand into his under the table and his shoulders ease down slightly. 

“So, after lunch, I have a meeting. But I’ll be back later, okay?” He says softly and you look up at him, eyes widening slightly. He knows that look by now, panic. “You’ll be okay. I’ll walk you back to your lab, kiss you against the wall and then you’ll get lost in your work and won’t even notice I’m not there.” He says, squeezing your hand gently. 

You take a deep breath, closing your eyes and nodding. “Okay. I’ll be okay.” You repeat. His heart swells uncomfortably for you. 

“That’s my girl.” He says softly. He’s crossing a line, several-in fact. He knows this, but you haven’t pushed him away, told him to stop. In fact, you almost seek him out, seeming to need him as much as he needs you. And as long as you’ll let him kiss you, he won’t stop. He’ll never push you to go further, not until you tell him you’re ready. 

Your hand pulls out of his and you sit up straighter, drawing his attention. Bryce, heading straight for you. Poe groans under his breath, but stays quiet. Just because that slimy piece of dirt doesn’t deserve you doesn’t mean that Poe has to make you uncomfortable with his complaints. 

“Hey, baby.” Bryce says, swooping down and capturing your mouth in a kiss. You seem surprised at the very least, given the way you stiffen next to him. 

Mind your own business. Mind your own business. Mind your own fucking business. 

“Where have you been? I was looking for you everywhere.” He says, sitting down and taking your tray, picking at your food. 

Don’t kill him. Don’t tell him. Don’t kill him. Don’t tell him about the lab.

He wants just one place where Shithead won’t think to look for you. One place where he can be with you without worrying about him ruining everything. 

“I just had some stuff to do.” You shrug, and Poe wants you to take your tray back, to remind Bryce that he’s perfectly capable of getting his own fucking food. But you don’t, you let that fucker, who wasn’t just starved and tortured for three fucking weeks eat your food. 

Poe’s hands clench under the table as they shake and he tries to breathe deep, to steady his anger. He shouldn’t let it get the better of him, can’t let it explode when you’re around. He’d die if you were afraid of him. 

“What have you been doing all morning? Did you have a shift?” You ask and Poe can barely refrain from rolling his eyes out loud. 

“Yeah. I actually have to go back out, do another sweep. Make sure that we stay protected.” He says importantly. 

This time Poe does roll his eyes. Bryce is nothing more than a guided gun. A trigger with kiddy bumpers. The pilot behind him does all the work. All Bryce has to do is fire the trigger. And he doesn’t even go out on missions. He doesn’t actually risk his life doing perimeter sweeps. Not the way every other pilot and gunner here has. He’s actually fairly useless in the grand scheme of things. He doesn’t repair anything, he doesn’t fly anything, he’s not a great shot, he’s not a healer. Just another ungrateful mouth to feed. 

“When do you have to go?” You ask. Poe wants to scream. Why do you even fucking care about this prick? 

“In a couple minutes. Just wanted to grab something to eat and see you.” He says softly, determined to ignore Poe. That’s fine, the less temptation Poe has to clock him right in the stupid face. 

“Okay.” You say, tilting your head. “Be safe.” You tell him softly and he grins at you. It’s wolfish, predatory, possessive. He doesn’t love you, he wants to own you. 

“I’ll swing by your room tonight.” He promises, pulling you for another kiss, half lifting you out of your chair. Poe worries about your ribs with the way you're being pulled around like that, even more so when he just drops you back down. 

Fucker.

Bryce saunters away, whistling to himself. You wait precisely one second after he walks out the door to put your hand back in his. 

“How are your ribs?” He asks stiffly. 

“They’re sore.” You mumble, closing your eyes. “I’m sorry I pulled away. I didn’t want him to hurt you.” 

He softens, wrapping his arm around your shoulders. “I can take care of myself. Besides, maybe I could use a fight.” He says and you swat his arm lightly. 

“How about we let these current injuries heal before we go looking for new ones?” You suggest, resting your head on his shoulder. 

“Fine. But I make no promises if he gets physical like that again.” He warns, an ugly heat tightening in his belly. He could easily go find that dick right now and beat the daylights out of him, the only thing stopping him is you here in his arms. 

“Are you done eating?” You ask quietly. 

“Are you?” He replies and you nod. 

“For now.”

“Alright.” He stands up with you and you grab both trays, heading for the return. He follows behind, his thoughts swirling like a storm cloud. Are you that eager to be rid of him now? Now that Bryce reminded you that you have a boyfriend? Will you tell him to piss off and leave you alone for good? Should he save himself the trouble and go pitch himself off the lookout tower? Or fly his X-Wing into a sun? Would you care?

He doesn’t realize you’ve stopped walking until you grab his arm to pull him back. “Oh. Sorry.” He mumbles, coming back.

“Well?” You prompt and he looks up, feeling like it takes him a long time to focus. 

“Well what?” He asks finally. 

“We’re at my lab. You said you’d kiss me once you walked me back here. I’m waiting for my kiss, Poe.” You say, lacing your fingers into his. 

“You sure you don’t want Bryce here to do it?” He asks rudely before he can stop himself. 

You punch his arm weakly, and he can tell it causes you more pain than it does him. “I only asked him when he left so I would know if I would be able to have this moment with you. But if you wanna be a brat and not kiss me, that’s fine, too.” You cross your arms and he closes his eyes, realizing what an idiot he is. 

“I’m sorry.” He mumbles. Your warm hands cup his face, tilting it towards you. 

“You have to talk to me. Don’t get lost in that abnormally big head of yours. I told you. I’m not going anywhere. And I demand a kiss. Shit, I demand five kisses.” You say and he cracks a smile. 

“Yes, ma’am.” He holds onto your bandaged wrists gently, pressing his lips to yours once, twice, thrice, four times, on the fifth, he kisses you like he’s wanted to all day. Slow, soft, gentle. He guides you closer, as though he can share the same space as you. His hand cups the back of your neck, his mouth kissing you wider, hungrier, your pulse jumps under his hand. You inhale roughly through your nose, almost as if you forgot how to breathe. He knows the feeling. You steal the very air from his lungs and it’s the best feeling, the way it consumes him. 

Your teeth drag across his bottom lip and your hands ball into fists in the front of his shirt. The quietest, softest moan escapes the back of your throat and he pulls back with an immeasurable amount of difficulty. You blink your eyes open slowly, dazed. 

“Have fun in your meeting.” You mumble. 

“Be careful.” He says, pressing a kiss to your forehead. “I’ll see you for dinner.” He promises, backing away slowly. He feels you watching him until he rounds the corner, and he wants to go back to you. But he can’t just blow off Leia. Not if he values his head on his shoulders. 

***

The lab goes silent. Eerily so. You don’t like it. There’s no hum of machines, no chatter, no beeping of droids. Something feels… wrong. 

There’s no one else in here, so why do you feel like someone is standing behind you, peering at you through the shelves? 

Your heart stutters painfully in your chest as you turn slowly, eyes glued to the corner as you turn. There has to be someone there, messing with you. But… no. There’s no one there. The spaces behind the shelves are empty. 

“Nya? Is that you?” You call. She’s most likely to pull a nasty prank like this. But there’s no response. “Is anyone there?” You ask, taking a hesitant step forward. “Sn-Snap?” Your voice wavers. “B-Beau? You there?” You call weakly. 

Maker, you’re so fucking pathetic. Why are you always so fucking scared? You’re just a stupid infant, always needing someone to rescue you. You were useless on that mission and you’re fucking useless now. Gonna cry out for Poe? Gonna beg him to save you? One day, he’s gonna get sick of saving you. He’s gonna find someone who can take care of themself. 

You spin around, looking wildly through the lab. There’s no one there… but… but there’s someone. “H-hello?” You call, trembling now, like you’re freezing. Goosebumps have broken out all over your skin as you walk through the counters. 

Out in the hallway, a massive bang and clattering echoes. Bangs on the wall like cannon fire trying to get through. Oh fuck, oh Maker. You drop, cowering behind a counter. People start shouting, the sound of blasters firing. You can’t breathe. Th-they’re here. They’ve come for you to finish the job! You clutch at your midsection, scrambling backwards until you bump into the wall of cabinets. 

You can’t breathe. Shit, wh-where’s Poe? He’s safe, in that meeting with others. You grab the handle of the nearest locker and pull it open. There’s a big enough space for you to crawl into the bottom and shut the door behind you. Tears spill over as you haul yourself inside, trying to be as quiet as you can. 

There’s some more shouting and the firing settles down, but then the door to the lab slides open and your heart slams against your rib cage. You crush your fist to your mouth, trying to stifle your panicked breathing. 

Please, please, let them be stupid. Let them look and see no one’s in here and leave. Tears leak over your hand and you squeeze your eyes shut. You’re never gonna see Poe again, you’re gonna leave him all alone just like you promised you wouldn’t. 

The door opens and you scream, flinging your hands up automatically. There’s more shouting from the doorway and you sob as someone catches your wrists. 

“Get the fuck out of here!” The person in front of you shouts at the door. “Y/N, sh, sh, stop, it’s me. It’s Snap, baby. It’s Wexley. It’s me.” He says, cupping your face and making you look at him. 

You hiccup as you focus on his face, confusion settling over you, making you dizzy. “Wh-I don’t understand.” 

He pulls you forward, wrapping his arms around you in a hug, holding you tight for a second before he scoops you up, setting you on a stool. “Everything’s okay.” He says, holding your face. “Some idiots in the hallway spilled cases of blasters and some misfired.” He explains. He looks around the lab with a frown. “Where’s Poe?”

“Me-meeting.” You gasp. You still can’t breathe, even though you know nothing actually happened. Your body hasn’t seemed to get the message. “Why a-are you here?” 

“That part. The mechs couldn’t figure it out. But don’t worry about it.” He waves his hand. 

“You n-need it.” You mumble, turning on the stool. “Where is it?” You ask. 

“Y/N-“

You hold out your hand without a word and he sighs, going over and picking it up. He sets it in your hand and you start examining it. “My tools,” you point and he grabs them. Your hands are shaking too badly to unscrew the door. 

“Here,” he does it for you. “You don’t have to do this. I can just take another ship.” He says. 

“That’s bad luck. You’re Poe’s best friend. He n-n-needs…” you cut off, eyes filling with tears again. “Fuck.” 

“How about you walk me through it? Huh? I’ll be your hands, you be the brain.” He offers, taking the sharp cutters out of your grasp. 

“E-everyone is okay?” You ask, not taking your eyes off the piece of machinery. 

“Yeah. Until the General gets through with them. You’re safe. Poe’s safe.” He says. You nod, trying not to let your face pinch. 

Snap needs you. Poe’s best friend in the whole world needs you. So get it to-fucking-gether. You clear your throat, nodding as you refocus. 

“Take the hinge off and you’ll be able to slide off the outer shell. There’s a latch that will release, you just have to feel around to the left on the inside.” You say firmly. He takes a second to watch you before doing as you say. 

You walk him through it, finding the problem easily. You tell him how to fix it, how to reassemble the piece, and then how to put it back in his ship. The whole time, trying not to notice the feeling of someone you can’t see watching you. 

“Okay. How do you feel? Still shaky? Nervous?”

“Crazy.” You mumble. 

“You’re not crazy, Y/N. You went through a horrible experience.” He reasons. 

“Then why do I feel like someone is standing right behind me?” You whisper. “It’s been there this whole time. Eyes on me, stalking m-me.” You choke. 

“I think it’s just nerves. Come on, we’ll stop by medical and get you a mild sedative to help you relax, okay?” He says and some sleep sounds fucking fabulous right now. Just block the whole world out for a few hours. 

“Okay.” You nod, accepting his hand. You allow him to lead you to medical and then to your own room. 

“I figured you’d be more comfortable sleeping in your own bed.” He says. 

“Thank you.” You whisper. You open the door and head for your bed. 

“Get comfortable.” He tells you gently, turning his back to give you privacy. 

You begin pulling off your shoes, your pants, your bra. You quickly get under the covers, trying to control your increasing breathing. It’s coming much too quickly. 

You’re safe. You’re safe. You’re safe. 

“R-ready.” You say and he turns around, kneeling next to you. “Will you tell Poe I didn’t just abandon him?” You ask and he nods. 

“You got it.” He takes your arm and injects it into your shoulder. “I’ll stay until you fall asleep, okay?”

You nod, taking his hand. “Thanks for finding me.” You mumble, eyes already drifting shut. Maker, this thing works fast.

“Any time, kid.” You can hear him smile as he tucks a piece of hair behind your ear. Then blissful peace. 

At least, until the nightmare begins again.

Chapter Ten

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[wicked-mind]

Promises

Summary: You have been in a relationship with Bucky and Steve for a while and it’s been great. Until they start to get reckless on missions, expecting you to just heal them with your healing ability when they get back. What they weren’t expecting is for you to lose your shit about it.

Word Count: 2.9k

Warnings: Swearing, injuries, mentions of hospital type stuff.

Note: This was an anonymous request (: Thank you so much for sending it in and I hope you like it!

All Writings Masterlist

Any and all likes, comments, and reblogs are deeply appreciated! I love that shit (:

*gifs not mine

Dating two super soldiers was a little problematic at first. It took the Avengers less time to get used to the idea than it did for the public though. There were countless news articles about you being manipulative, wrapping them around your fingers for your own gain. But just as quickly as that gossip started, it faded away also when pictures were released how happy the three of you were together. It was odd, sure, but you, Steve, and Bucky loved each other more than anything in the world. The three of you even were gifted an apartment in the facility so everybody else didn’t have to hear the noises that came from one of your three bedrooms.

Steve was what you would classify as the gentle but hard headed one. He always made sure to touch you so gently and keep his voice from being raised or going into captain mode around you. He loved to press his nose to yours, staring into your eyes with a smile as he ran his fingers through your hair and whispered sweet things to you but once he made up his mind about something there was no deterring him. Bucky was a little different. He was more possessive of you, touching you and pulling you into his body whenever he could like your touch was the only thing keeping him alive. He was the same way with Steve though, seeming to need the touch from his two lovers to survive. You figured it was because of all his time with Hydra that he was touch starved and possessive of having something, two someones, he could call his again.

The Avengers kept your around for another reason, however. You had the ability to heal wounds of those you touched which came in useful when someone on the team came back injured and needed some sort of quick fix and was even more useful when someone happened to be come back with life threatening wounds. At first you were happy to help, healing wounds of whoever came in but then it started to eat away at you. Steve and Bucky were becoming more and more reckless with every mission they went on like they didn’t care if they came back mortally wounded knowing you’d be there to heal them back up. It had begun to eat at you, watching them leave for a mission and not knowing if they would make it back in time for you to save them.

This time was no different. You tried to tell them to be safe before they left and they both smiled and gave you kisses saying they would. They almost caught you murmuring ‘liars’ under your voice but seemed to let it go. Steve and Bucky had gone on a mission with Natasha and Clint earlier in the week and about twenty minutes ago Natasha called to let you know to be ready in the medical bay. You had your arms folded, chewing on your bottom lip. As awful as it sounded, you hoped it was Clint that needed help and not your boys again. But of course, it wasn’t Clint. Steve and Bucky were rolled into the medical bay by Natasha and Clint on gurneys and you immediately jumped into action, “What happened?” You ask as you looked over Bucky. He had some deep cuts to his face and back of his head, he was fully unconscious and unresponsive when you pinched his arm meaning he was probably in a coma.

“Well that one decided it’d be a good idea to run into a collapsing building after the enemy.” Natasha said as she nodded over to Bucky, “Had to dig him out.”

“And Steve?” You ask as you move to look at Steve. He was unconscious as well and his suite had a large splotch of blood in the center of his chest. You quickly put the heart monitor on his finger to see his heart rate slowing.

“That one is the reason the building collapsed in the first place. He decided to take on the whole squad of goons, setting off an explosive and getting hit with the shrapnel.”

You were about to open your mouth to call them both idiots when Steve’s heart monitor started flatlining, “Dammit!” You yell, ripping his suite open and placing your hands on the wounds. They slowly healed but his heart wouldn’t start beating again. You went into panic mode, needing to be closer to his heart to heal it. You grab the closet scalpel and quickly opened up his chest, sliding your small hand into his chest cavity until you were lightly massaging his heart and healing it with your ability. You watched the heart monitor for any sign of beats for two minutes until finally it started a steady rhythm. You pulled your now bloody hand out of his chest cavity, tracing along the open wound you made until it healed. You could swear you could feel steam coming out of your ears at how angry you were at your two super soldiers for being the biggest, most reckless idiots in the world. Once Steve was taken care of, you go over to Bucky and start healing the wounds on his body before placing both hands on the sides of his head, healing the concussion and brain bleed that was putting him in a coma.

Once you were finished, you pinched him again and he flinched, his eyes opening to look up at you and a small smile creeping across his lips a the sight of you, “Hey, pretty girl.” He said horsely out to you.

You held up your hand to cut him off, stepping away from him, “Save it, Barnes.” You hiss out, watching him flinch a little as you used his last name. You never did that except when you were fuming with anger, “I’m going to go get cleaned up now. When he wakes up,” You said pointing over to Steve, “You can let him know you two will be staying on the couch.”

“But we don’t fit on the couch.” Bucky pouted, sitting up as he watched you head towards the exit of the medical bay, “Wait, baby!”

You turn and look at him, glaring into those beautiful blue eyes you loved so much, “Don’t! I don’t give a fuck if you two don’t fit on the couch. Figure it out!” You yell at him, tears stinging your eyes before you turn and leave the room.

Bucky sat there with a shocked expression on his face before turning to look at Natasha and Clint who were looking anywhere else like they were trying to disappear from the conversation. Bucky was about to ask the pair what happened when Steve groaned awake muttering something about watching your language. Bucky was up in an instant and at Steve’s side, grabbing onto his hand and kissing his knuckles, “You alright, Stevie?”

Steve blinks awake and nods with a small groan, “Yeah, all good, Buck.” He said, reaching his other hand to rub the side of his head before looking around the medical bay for you, “Where’s Y/N?” He asks.

Bucky sighs and drops his head, “I think she’s mad at us. She said we have to sleep on the couch.” He muttered out.

“What?!” Steve said, sitting up instantly, “Why? What did we do?”

“Oh I don’t know.” Natasha said interjecting, “Maybe it’s the fact that you,” She points to Steve, “Decided to be the trigger for an explosion causing you to literally die for a few minutes in front of her. Or you,” She points to Bucky, “Deciding to follow into the collapsing building causing you to go into a coma. I mean, do you guys really not care anymore about safety because your girlfriend happens to be a healer? She can’t heal you if your dead.” Natasha turns on her heels to start walking out of the medical bay with Clint beside her, “You’re lucky she loves you two idiots and is giving you the couch. I would leave you two out in the rain.”

After showering and changing their clothes to look presentable to their pissed off girlfriend, Bucky and Steve walked over to the closed bedroom door. They could hear her inside watching something on the TV loudly to try and cover her cries but it wasn’t enough to drown them out from the super soldiers’ hearing. Steve was the first to try, knocking gently on the door, “Sweetheart, can we talk?”

“No. Couch.” You reply softly, knowing they could hear you. You pulled the blankets around you more, the only light flickering from the TV as it played some dumb love reality show that wasn’t exactly helping your situation.

Bucky nudges Steve out of the way and tries the doorknob but the door was locked and he let out a sigh, “Baby, I know we made you mad but we want to talk about it. We don’t fit on the couch.”

“Fine.” You groan, throwing the blanket off of you and walking over to the door, unlocking the knob and opening it to see them both towering over you at the entrance of the door. Your eyes flickered between them before you pushed past them headed to the kitchen to grab yourself a water bottle. The two muscular men followed you like lost puppies, hot on your heels as they waited for you to say something. You took a long drink from the water bottle you procured from the fridge, leaning against the counter and looking at the two.

Steve looked over at Bucky, slowly reaching out and lacing his fingers through his to have some sort of comfort from your glares. He slowly looked back over to you, “Honey, I know you’re mad that we were reckless this mission but we will be more careful and-“

You held up a hand to cut him off, licking your lips before you spoke, “Stop.” You told him, “I’ve heard this before plenty of times. ‘Oh we won’t be reckless.’ ‘Oh don’t worry we are super soldiers’ ‘You’re here to heal us every time.’ Well I am sick of it. You have no idea what it’s like to watch the loves of your lives literally be brought back from death by your own hand!” You yell, your voice getting louder and tears stinging your eyes again, “You were dead Steve! I held your unbeating heart in my hand!” You turn your gaze to Bucky, “And you! You decide to go along with Captain Reckless over here, not even telling him that maybe it’s a bad idea. That maybe setting off an explosion that would burry you both is a bad idea.” You shook your head, taking a deep breath in attempts to calm your voice.

Bucky gripped onto Steve’s hand tighter at your words that felt like venom in his veins, “We were doing our jobs, Y/N. We couldn’t let them get away we had to at least try to-“

“Stop. Talking.” You hiss out to the dark haired super soldier who immediately shut his mouth and had this look on his face like a scolded child, “You two promised me forever. You two told me you love me. You two told me you’d be here with me forever.” You pause, tears running down your cheeks and you stepped away when they took a step forward to comfort you as they always did, “You shouldn’t have promised me any of that. You shouldn’t have promised me forever if you two are so hell bent on dying.”

Steve and Bucky stood there in shock at your words. Neither of them have thought about the toll this had taken on you. They stared at you for a moment before watching you escape back to the bedroom. It wasn’t until the door slammed and locked that the two soldiers jumped out of their trance. Bucky folded first, his hands coming up to cover his face as his shoulders shook from the crying. Steve wrapped his arms around Bucky slowly, comforting him with soft sweet words. They didn’t fight you about sleeping on the couch that night, even though it was pretty much a shoving war of who could get the comfiest on the couch that was way too small for both of their six foot tall muscular bodies. It ended up with both of them just sleeping on the floor, curled up next to each other. But it felt wrong for both of them. Something was missing from their sleeping pile and they knew exactly what it was. You.

The next morning you laid in the large bed alone in the middle, staring at the ceiling as you listened for any sounds coming from your super soldiers outside the bedroom. When it was silent for about twenty minutes, you slowly walked out of the bedroom expecting to see them hovering outside the door waiting for you but they weren’t there. You let out a small sigh of relief and started your day. You showered, had some breakfast, brushed your teeth, and got dressed before heading to the medical bay to go over your records. Luckily, Steve and Bucky seemed to be keeping their distance from you because you hadn’t seen them all day while you were working. You halfway wondered if they just went on another mission without saying goodbye this time but you knew better and so did they. You three never parted without saying goodbye and I love you to each other. It wasn’t until you wondered back up to your apartment in the facility that you stopped in your tracks after opening the door. There the two were, dressed in nice button down shirts and each holding bouquets of your favorite flowers. You bit your bottom lip as the door shut behind you with a soft click, staring at the two before your eyes wondered around the room. The lighting was dimmed and you could see the table set for three with plates of your favorite dinner on them and one of Bucky’s apple pies he had learned to make from his ma when he was younger. It was one of your favorites and they both knew it always made you smile and press your lips together as you let out a soft mmm sound that seemed to drive them both feral. Your eyes flickered back to the two as Bucky started to speak.

“Baby, we are very sorry for not thinking about how this affects you and taking your ability for granted.” Bucky said softly to you, walking forward and passing you the bouquet of flowers to you before sneaking his arm around your waist and leaving a soft kiss to your left temple.

Steve walked forward as well, giving you his bouquet to you before reaching a hand up to touch your cheek with his warm palm, “We love you so much, sweetheart. We never wanted to hurt you like this and we are so very, deeply, sorry.” He kisses your forehead gently before pulling away to look into your eyes with his honest ones, “We’re taking some time away from missions, as long as we need to prove that we do want you forever. When we made those promises to you, we meant it with every fiber of our being. You complete us, sweetheart. We don’t know what we would do without you.”

You chewed on your bottom lip incessantly at their words, knowing it would be raw and puffy by the time you released it from your teeth. Once you did you sighed, you couldn’t stay mad at them. Not when they looked so good and made amends to you to keep the promises they made to you at the beginning of the relationship. You nod slowly, “Fine. I forgive you two idiots as long as you both promise to not be reckless. Come back to me in one piece, alive and not mortally wounded. Deal?” You watched them both nod instantly with streams of yes leaving their lips before moving past them to set the flowers down in the vases they had already prepared with water. When you turned to face them, there they were standing in front of you.

Bucky reached out and wrapped his arms around your waist, pulling you into his chest in a tight hug as if he hadn’t hugged you in years, “I love you, baby.” He whispers to you.

Steve moved behind you, wrapping his arms around Bucky in front of you to sandwich you between them in the tightest hug you’ve felt in a while, “I love both of you.” He says with a smile, kissing the top of your head before kissing the top of Bucky’s as well.

“I love you idiots, too.” You squeak out between their tight hug, “But I think I’m losing air and I want some pie.”

Bucky sighs, not wanting the hug to end, “Fine. But I’m spoon feeding it to you.” He said down to you with a smile as Steve releases the both of you and Bucky steps back away.

Steve grins, “And I’ll spoon feed you.” He said to Bucky.

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