#its a soft launch situation folks

[welcometololaland]

don't wanna be dramatic, but i'm about to be so fucking annoying

[gwendolynemaxine]

AN EVENING WITH THE STACYS, MANHATTAN, NEW YORK.  captain  stacy’s  home  is  old  world  charm  at  its  finest.  his  wife,  helen,  has  retired  early  following  dinner,  which  leaves  george  and  his  young  daughter  gwendolyne  to  entertain  themselves.  she  is  a  bright  young  girl,  nearly  four,  bubbly  and  enthusiastic.  father  and  daughter  make  themselves  comfortable  in  the  large  armchair  in  his  study  —  they  both  peer  over  a  large,  ornate  children’s  book  depicting  many  of  king  arthur’s  adventures.  

another informal discussion, this time about gwen's family history and how her upbringing affects her values and relationships (in constant state of editing)

george  stacy  was  born  in  england, the younger of two brothers. like  his  father  and  brother,  george  joined  the  military  following  his  education  before  entering  into  law  enforcement.  he  excelled  in  his  career,  earning  a  reputation  of  being  incorruptible  and  steadfast  in  his  morals. helen  thomas  was  born  in  ireland,  moving  to  london  in  her  early  twenties  to  pursue  a  career  in  journalism.  it  was  here  that  she  would  meet  and  eventually  marry  george  stacy.

his  work  later  brought  him  overseas  —  in  his  late  30s,  he  relocated  to  new  york  city  after  being  recruited  for  a  high  profile  murder  investigation.  helen  joined  him  and  the  couple  rented  a  house  in  queens  before  eventually  moving  into  the  upper  east  side  following  further  success  in  george’s  career.  queens,  however,  was  where  the  couple  eventually  managed  to  have  their  only  child  -  gwendolyne. gwen  was  barely  two  when  the  family  moved  out  of  queens.  being  their  only  child,  she  was  doted  on  tremendously  by  her  parents,  as  well  as  family  friends.  the  family  enjoyed  the  highlights  of  new  york  life  as  george  continued  to  climb  in  his  career.  gwen  did well in her  pricey  private  school.  unfortunately,  helen  was  diagnosed  with  a  critical  illness  as  her  only  daughter  entered  elementary  school.  gwen  took  a  role  of  caring  for  both  parents,  and  that  role  extended  to  her  father  exclusively  after  her  mother  passed  away  shortly  after  she  entered  middle  school.

gwen  befriends  harry  osborn  following  this  loss.  despite  the  tragedy,  gwen  is  able  to  maintain  her  grades.  her  father  throws  himself  into  his  work,  leaving  gwen  to  not  only  care  for  herself  but  to  care  for  him  as  well. 

gwen’s  childhood  was  filled  with  dreamy  fairy  tales  and  folk  tales  her  parents  brought  with  them  to  america  -  her  mother  doted  on  her,  buying  her  endless  dresses  and  bows,  dressing  her  up  and  running  around  central  park  with  her. being an only child with adoring parents results, very easily, in a child who expects the world to treat her the same. her father is a police officer characterized by his unshakeable morals. he is incorruptible, always sees the best in people, and did extremely well in his profession. because of all this, he became a major target for the worst new york had to offer. and also because of this, gwen saw a prime example for how to live. unapologetically, courageously, willing to do the right thing no matter the risk. gwen is a true product of her environment and it is so essential in how she navigates the world. her father's steadfast courage and faith launch her into situations over her head and she does not falter. she holds those same standards to the people closest to her. she is soft and warm, able to cater to others and care for them as well as be cared for in return.

[jonkentt]

This is a video, Bucky. You’re recording.”

What? I opened the camera.”

Yeah and it’s a video.”

Oh whatever! C’mere we’re getting a picture.”

Back to my original point—”

Shut up and smile, Sam”

The sunlight is a warm yellow glow on their smiling faces. Bucky’s arm is draped over Sam’s shoulders and he leans in to plant a kiss on his cheek.

Sam can almost feel the warm press of Bucky’s lips as he replays the memory on his phone. The glow of the screen dully illuminating the dark hotel room.

Sam’s smile slips and his eyes widen with surprise. Bucky’s laughter rings out till it’s abruptly cut off when Sam grabs his face and kisses him. The image blurs, followed by a loud crack and muffled curse.

Sam smiles but his chest aches a little. His finger hovers over the screen to press play on the video again. Then the phone starts buzzing in his hand and a familiar face appears.

“You asshole, are you a mind reader now? I miss you.”

“Aw, Sam, babe you’re pinning already? Even after I called you this morning?”

“I’m not pinning!”

“I miss you, too. Why the fuck did you have to go away on your birthday? The boys and I ate a cake but they looked sad about it.”

“You ate a cake without me? Wow just rub it in that I couldn’t get out of this hooty tooty conference.”

“I guess world peace is sorta important. Don’t feel too bad though, they weren’t actually sad about it. They ate the whole cake and I promised them another when you got back.”

Sam tries to protest through his laughter. “Hey now, don’t get any ideas about points towards favorite uncle. That’s my title.”

“I’ve been favorite uncle, Sam, and you know it.”

“Why you gotta hurt me like this? I’ll have you know that Cass wrote ‘best uncle ever’ in his text to me this morning.”

“Traitor.”

Sam snickers. Their familiar chatter drains all the pent up tension of the day. Sam can feel the tightness of his shoulders ease, but that little ache in his heart is still too sharp. “Ah dammit, I still miss you.”

“Stop moping, Sam. Go enjoy your birthday!”

“Man, it’s not like there’s anything to do around here! Unless I wanna go to a shitty dive bar and order something in a language I don’t speak. End up having to choke down god knows what.”

“I’ve seen you drink a snake. I’m surprised anything still intimidates you.”

Sam makes a gagging sound. “Don’t remind me.”

“Well I know for a fact that there’s something you’ll love close by. C’mon get up, I’ll give you directions.”

“What?”

“C’mon Sam!”

Which is how Sam ended up walking through an unfamiliar city in the middle of the night, convinced Bucky was steering him in circles.

“You’re almost there.”

“You said that four blocks ago!”

“Relax, Sam. This way you get to stretch your legs and enjoy the sound of my voice at the same time.”

“Bucky—”

“On your left.”

“That’s my line!”

“What? Turn left, Sam.”

Sam rounded the corner of a yet another looming building and the space opened into a massive garden contained by an elaborate iron fence. A cobbled path stretched down it’s center through a tunnel of arches covered in roses. Lights were threaded through the branches, illuminating everything in hazy yellows. A slight breeze filled Sam’s nose with sweetness.

“Woah.”

“I woulda picked flowers for ya but given our situation, I had to bring you to the flowers.”

“This place is beautiful, Buck.” Sam’s voice is soft with awe as he walks down the path, admiring the curving vines of roses all around him. The flowers have bloomed in every color of the rainbow. “How’d you find it?” Sam reaches out to rub delicate blue petals between his finger and thumb.

“A brilliant invention I’ve been informed is called the internet.”

Sam snorts. “Course you would scrounge up the most absurdly romantic spot in the city from halfway across the world.”

“For you, Sam? Nothing less.”

Sam makes his way towards the center of the gardens. The path opens suddenly to a wide circle with a bubbling fountain at its center. Sam looks into its basin and the glint of copper coins wink back at him. He cranes his head to admire the night sky. The twinkle of stars just visible beyond the urban light.

“Oh,” he whispers. “Wow. You’d love this place.” The other end of the line stays quiet. “Bucky?” Sam glances at his phone to see the call has ended. He frowns, wondering if he lost signal.

“I can promise, Sam, that the whole scene is much prettier with you in it.”

Sam’s head snaps up at that familiar sound. Bucky steps out from behind a wall of roses. His eyes are crinkled in a bright smile.

“Hey, Angel.”

Sam breaks into a stupidly huge grin then launches himself into Bucky’s arms. His partner laughs and hugs him close.

“You’ve been gone, what, not even a week? Already miss me that much?”

Sam smirks and shrugs.

“I’d consider being embarrassed about it except that you literally researched where to find a fucking rose garden and then traversed an ocean just to tell me how pretty I am.”

Bucky strokes Sam’s cheek with his thumb and looks at him with near unbearable fondness.

“Can’t let you go forgetting it.”

Bucky leans in till their noses touch. Sam closes his eyes and breaths him in, relaxing into Bucky’s embrace.

“Can’t let you doubt for a second how loved you are.”

Bucky presses their foreheads together.

“You’re incredible, Sam. God, just—” Bucky huffs a laugh that sounds a little overwhelmed. “You’re always blowing my mind. When your eyes open in the morning, all warm and soft and already smiling. When you laugh so easily and it’s the best sound in the world. When you look at your nephews so proud like your heart’s gonna burst.” Bucky barely hears the fountain behind them or notices the sweetness in the air. All he can think of is Sam.

“You always stop and talk to the kids who recognize you, doesn’t make a difference if you’re exhausted, you always care about putting smiles on their little faces.” Bucky swallows against the emotion welling in his throat. “You always look out for your team. Even when shit hits the fan and we’re all scared, donno what’s coming. You hold it together and keep us safe, me ‘n Torres ‘n everyone.” He pauses to listen to Sam’s breathing and feel the warmth of it on his lips. “And when you’re sad, Sam, god you hate showing it. But still you let people in. Just crack your heart right open. You’re more honest than any of us deserve. But the way you see the world, the way you put hope in people, it’s such a fucking amazing gift you don’t even realize you’re giving.”

Sam moves just slightly and for once Bucky doesn’t want to be stopped with a kiss. He needs Sam to hear this, needs Sam to believe it. Bucky leans back and locks his gaze with Sam’s. Desperately, he tries to find the words.

“I try— I try to show you. How much you matter. How everything you do matters. I try to show you but I can’t keep up. I’ll never be able to keep up with you, Sam.” Bucky smiles even as he struggles to keep his voice steady.

“I try to tell you how much I love you but words fall short every time. I try to tell you how important you are and sometimes you still look surprised and that breaks my heart cause you gotta know, Sam. You gotta know.” Light catches the teardrops on Sam’s eyelashes and Bucky finally notices the emotion in his eyes. It knocks the air from his chest.

“You are so loved. And ‘course it’s not just me. So many folks look up to you! I always recognize the look in their eyes cause I know it.” Bucky cups Sam’s face and pauses just to admire him. “I know what it feels like to have a whole heart-full of Sam Wilson.”

They look at each other in silence for a breathless moment. Bucky looking at Sam like he hung every star in the sky, and Sam trying not to drown in that gaze. Then Sam smiles and wipes his eyes with the heel of his palm. Bucky melts at the sight of that tooth gap.

“Jesus, Bucky.” Sam sniffs. “You rehearse that?”

“Every day.”

Sam laughs a little and leans in to nuzzle Bucky’s cheek. “Well, I love it,” he whispers. “Means a lot, Bucky. And I love you.”

Bucky grins ear-to-ear. The press of Sam’s nose on his cheek makes his stupid stomach flip.

“Birthday kiss?”

Sam answers by pressing their lips together.

[southerneldritch]

-A Year Later, Misha-

The smoke rose in a thick line from the burning embers of the tip of the cigarette, an off brand from the shop in town. Misha drew in a deep and long drag as he looked out across the night sky above the cold southern expanse of the Tronador valley. As he went further up the mountain, it was nice to look back towards the small lights of Puerto Varas, where he had received the intel that pointed him up this impressively cold mountain. Misha was no stranger to cold, but with how hot it was in the town this August he hadn’t expected the trek to plunge him into frigid temperatures. Nevertheless, with his collar lifted and another smoke lit, he marched forward.

The night was getting colder and the path, if you could call it one, was more than likely made entirely by wayward goats without intention or significance. Santino knew better than to give Misha bad intel, especially with something as important as this, but still there was a nagging at the back of Misha’s mind that this could be a trap. 

He’d had a few difficult tussles since he left the comfort of the states to pursue what truth he had seen, what memories had been returned to him. Briefly, he considered the nightmare of New Orleans and what he’d had to do with the good Doctor. The sight of what that man had become, what that man committed to before slipping under the floodwaters of the ill-gotten city was still clear in his mind. Misha liked that his mind felt less like a mystery than before, but he was torn when he thought of the life he had built in Avenyork, the friends….friend he had made. 

After another long drag of the cigarette, Misha found himself spotting the low light of a small cabin tucked into the mountainside. “Finally. I hope they have a fire going” he muttered to himself as he trudged on. Arriving at the small cabin, he could hear some music playing from inside. It sounded Russian. With a firm knock he stood out in the cold for a moment before the music fell silent and the door was cracked open. Dark brown eyes stared out from the warmth of the structure. “¿Sí, Qué quieres?”

“¿Oleg está aquí?” Misha responded. There was a slight look of confusion on the face of the man holding the door.

“Hablas español mejor que Oleg” He smiled and opened the door wider, gesturing for Misha to step inside. 

“lo hago pero no lo prefiero.” Misha smirked as he stepped through the doorway, adding “¿Habla usted Inglés?”

“Si, but is not as good. But Oleg prefer it too.” The man, short in stature, shut the door behind Misha and led him to a chair at a table in the middle of the room. Misha could smell some sort of soup or stew being made on the fireplace and there was a small phonograph player on a small table to the side. “Oleg tried to make me learn Russian, HA” he laughed “Not happen”

“Russian is not easy language to master. Don’t worry my english is very good.” Misha sat down roughly, tired as he was. “Where is Oleg?” His eyes drifted around the room and saw a small bed tucked in the corner and a single door into the back room.

“He went to gather last few ingredients for stew” The man sat down across from Misha “Mi nombre es Mateo, ehhh” A pause “My name, Mateo. You?” His clothes were a bit large for his build and he seemed calm, despite a stranger banging on his door at this late hour in the mountains. 

“Misha” Misha stated as he absorbed the room, gathering as much as he could. “And how did Oleg come to find you?”

“Oh as most. The people in town. They know my skills” He smiled and folded his fingers together. His nails were clean and bright yet something dark was under them. “And what is Oleg to you?”

Misha paused and considered the question. “Old friends,” adding, “How long do you think he’ll be?” He kept his eyes on swivel as he watched Mateo’s every move. 

“He not be much longer” Mateo smiled wide, teeth looking wet. “Last ingredients are most important.” He gestured towards the pot next to the fireplace. 

“Yes.” There was a pause in the room. The cold of the outdoors permeated everything despite the roaring fire. “The final touches are always important.” Before the pause could go on much longer, Misha asked, “So I heard music as I approached. Shall we put some on while we wait for Oleg?”

“YES!” Mateo exclaimed, his voice almost heavy with excitement. “Please go crank up the record” he half laughed “Oleg brought very good”. Misha stood and made his way towards the phonograph. It was an old thing that looked worse for the wear, and there on the pad was an old Russian record. The crank made an awful noise as he turned it. The creaking, clanking and the sound of the spring tightening was a mixture of bizzare and otherworldly sounds that caused the hairs on Misha’s neck to stand up on end. 

As Mateo reached the last click of the player, Misha noticed an imperial Russian coat on the floor by the fireplace. Heavy outerwear that would work well in the growing cold outside the house. A coat Oleg would not have left without care. Misha’s stomach turned to sand and there were alarm bells going off as he felt his muscles tightened without thinking to do so. 

“So Oleg?” Misha spoke as the record wurred to life with the sounds of a Russian folk tune, he turned back towards Mateo and regretted his decision immediately. Mateo with wide open eyes was looking directly at Misha, though he had not turned his body, only his head which was situated facing almost entirely the wrong direction. His mouth looked as if it had broken free and his head cocked backwards as a horrific guttural sound of nightmares filled the small cabin. Misha reached for his pistol as Mateo’s form folded and ripped and slid off of the large creature now flinging itself at him. His gun had only gotten out of the holster before the creature was on top of him. Slamming Misha down hard, the gun slipped from his hand. His head was spinning but his training kicked in harder than ever. The snarling maw of the grotesque thing was dripping down onto him as he kicked his heel back and slammed it hard into the beast. The creature folded back and shrieked. It grasped at its side that was bleeding a thick red ichor.

“Piece of Shit!” Misha exclaimed as he rolled over and tapped his heel again, the blood stained blade retracting into the side of his boot. Tumbling to his feet next to his revolver and snatching it up to look towards the creature writhing. Drawing a deep breath with a mixture of words under his breath Misha steadied his pistol on the shadowed and dripping beast. The upbeat tunes of the Russian folk music punctuated the snarl of the thing as it whipped around to face Misha.

“YOU ARE TOO LATE FOR FRIEND '' The voice spilled from various holes around the thing. With sounds of gravel being forced through flesh, the tone still somehow sounded like the small man of Mateo, even if the creature had very few traces of his flesh sticking to its dripping form. Within a second it lept towards Misha and without a second guess the gun belched fire. The small piece of metal tore through the creature, though it was not enough to stop its energy. Slamming down in front of him and bringing a thunderously hard slam into his side, the creature sent Misha hurling into the wall at the back of the shack. Wood splintered as the low light of the cabin was lost.  

Misha woke, lying inside the small back room, “Uhhhghhh.” He let  a moan escape before sitting up. The bodies of curious travellers and seekers of information alike were strung up and stored around the room. Likely as some sort of food source. “Oh Oleg,” he muttered as he eyed the opening now splintered through the wall into the main room of the cabin. “I guess you didn’t come as prepared as you should have.” Misha began to unload the revolver and slips his hand into an interior pocket of his jacket. He pulled out a few special looking cartridges with emblazoned symbols upon the shells. Before he was able to load them, the mass of the creature barges through, up, over and towards him.

“YOU SOON DEAD NEW RUSSIAN!” The creature gurgled forward with a sense of pained anger. While the previous strikes may not have been lethal, they certainly hurt. It clearly was angry now. Seeing it close the distance with its previous speed, Misha abandoned loading the gun and braced himself instead. No amount of training can steel one against the purely physical blows of a wretched beast. Misha found himself tumbling back out of the hole his body had just made in the wall. He managed to land on his feet and was able to load the special rounds.

“Not quite yet you piece of SHIT!” He called out mocking the creature as the last round click into the cylinder and he snapped the gun shut. The hammer set, he began to speak softly as the chamber emitted a soft glow, faint but there. “I’m not done with you!” He exclaimed as he saw the twisted gleam of the eyes of the creature peer over the hole in the wall.

Releasing a growling shriek the creature retorted, “YOU DIE NOW OTHERS ARE FOOD ENOUGH!!!” as it launched over the broken timbers and slammed foot after foot, hand after hand towards Misha. Its jaws unhinged as it lept but before it bit down into the flesh of this painful nuisance, Misha dropped down, dodging the thing and letting loose two shots directly point blank into its belly. Hellish green and blue fire erupted from the wounds as large bulbs exploded around the impact zones. The creature cried out and slammed into, then through, the outer wall out into the cold snow of the mountainside. It let out a weak chitter of pain and confusion.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t here Oleg.” Misha slowly stepped over the rubble of the wall and towards the thing. It’s body convulsing and folding, bones twisting inside its loose skin. “But this thing won't hurt anyone else.” Misha stood over it and let loose a loud single shot through what could best be described as its ‘head’. A few moments of the bright burn of green and blue light and the echo of the shot through the mountains, and Misha was alone. 

New snow began to fall silently. He flipped open his notebook to a page full of names. He crossed out the last name on the page, ‘Oleg Fedorov.’ The steam of his breath was thick as he let out a long long sigh. With a fresh cigarette in his lips, he glanced at the Verum Private Detective badge paper clipped into his notebook. He looked into the cold night. 

Softly, to the silence, he says, “I think I miss home.” 

(by J. Daily)

[angst-fairygodmother]

He Could Be That Boy ~ Alfie Jones x Reader (Me and Mrs. Jones) - 2

A/N: Alright, folks. The freeloader in my brain is getting another chapter. Haven’t decided if there will be more from here... Word Count: 1405 Rating: T - partial nudity, implied sexual content, language

Stirring with a groan, you sat up, rubbing sleep and lingering booze-bleariness from your eyes. One hand dropped to gather the sheet still over your lower half and you frowned, noticing now that they were not your usual patterned ones. Frowning in confusion, you took a more careful look around you. 

“Oh fuck,” you breathed, staring in horror at the person in bed beside you. “Fuck fuck fuck.”

Tossing the blanket aside, you scrambled to your feet and away from the bed, grabbing random articles of clothing off the floor as you went. Practically pressing yourself into the corner you held them over your underwear-clad body and continued to stare.

“Five more minutes Mum,” he mumbled, rolling over and pulling the sheet closer around his bare shoulders, only half-waking from the commotion.

Your heart ached at how cute he looked, hair disheveled and face slightly squished into the pillow. If only waking up next to him were planned, instead of panicked. 

You couldn’t remember what happened, after maybe the fourth cocktail. After Alfie had...had he really kissed you or was it just a vivid and wonderful dream? And was that all the two of you had done?

You needed to take stock of the situation. You were still in your bra and panties, that was probably a good sign, but not definitive. After all, Alfie had a thing about underwear, and you were in a rather cute lacy set. There was clothing everywhere. But it was Alfie’s room, so that was mostly just its constant state. Back and forth your mind raced, spotting signs you had slept together, and then signs you hadn’t, everywhere. Eventually you came to the conclusion that the only thing to do was wake him up and ask. 

Your stomach flipped. 

“Alfie?” you hissed, hoping you could get his attention without alerting the rest of the Jones household. “Wake up.”

No response. You sighed. 

“Alfred!” you picked up an old pair of jeans and balled them up to throw at him. 

He groaned, batting them away and pretending to keep on sleeping.

“I know you’re awake you ass, and if you don’t answer me I will dump cold water on you.”

The threat, and prior experience that you really would, had him bolting upright, only to double back over as his head no doubt swam. After a tense moment where you thought he might puke, he turned to look pathetically at you. 

“Y/N?” he asked, frown deepening. “What are you doing in my room...over there...are you naked?”

“Because this is where I landed when I launched myself after waking up next to you in my underwear. What the fuck happened last night?” you snapped, attempting to maintain a glare despite how exposed you felt under his gaze.

“You don’t remember?”

“It’s...fuzzy. Is there something to remember?”

A different kind of frown crossed his face now, one full of anger and hurt. “No. Forget it.”

“Alfie,” you sighed, fixing him with a look. “We’ve been friends for...too long now. Do you really think I can’t tell when something’s wrong?”

He frowned, lower lip stuck out in a pout. “I thought it...meant something.”

“Thought...what meant something…?”

“Will you stop hiding over there in the corner?” 

“No, I think I’m good here,” you shook your head violently. “At least until I find something to cover myself properly with.” You gestured around you vaguely with one hand to the floor and scattered clothing.

“Well you’re holding one of my shirts and you’re so tiny…” he shrugged, unapologetic about his own near-nakedness, as usual. 

You glared for a moment longer, lifting the material to your nose and giving it a sniff. It smelled of him, but not in a way that was gross and you sighed. You pulled it over your head, heart racing slightly as you became enveloped in it. Slowly, tugging the hem of it down as far as you could over your thighs, you shuffled back to the bed. You folded your legs under you, claiming half of his blanket to cover yourself better.

“Now can we talk?” you asked, turning slightly to face him, resisting the urge to lean in, like something was drawing you there.

“What do you think happened last night?” he asked, fiddling with a loose string on the edge of the blanket.

“I...we drank. And we…” you bit your lip and looked away. 

Alfie was surprisingly still, waiting for you. 

“Did you kiss me or did I make that up?” you asked softly, afraid of what he’d answer, and unsure what would be the worse answer. 

Silence settled over you and you felt your face heat with shame. Tugging at the hem of his shirt again, you got up, doing your best to keep it down while you moved around, looking for your clothes. 

“Y/N,” Alfie said. You felt him reach out for you and shrugged him away, fingertips barely brushing your arm. 

“I should just go, this is ridiculous,” you muttered. “Where the fuck is my skirt?”

“Y/N, come on. Just…”

“No. No. Whatever happened was a mistake. And if I leave…” he caught you this time, despite your continued attempts to search and dodge. 

You stumbled as Alfie pulled you in, landing heavily against his naked chest. A chest that was much more toned than you remembered it being before he left. Your fingers curled into a fist pressed to it, his warmth radiating through you and one of his arms around your shoulders now. 

“If I leave…” you protested faintly. “We can pretend whatever happened or didn’t happen...never happened.”

“Or…” he drawled, wagging his eyebrows, a smirk growing on his face. “My bed is right there.”

“That’s not funny Alfie,” you snapped, trying to pull away.

Reluctantly he let you go. “I’m being serious, for once. I was a proper idiot for waiting so long to kiss you. And last night…”

There it was again, that implication, and the anxious bile it caused to rise up in your throat. 

“We didn’t do anything,” he said, waving the concern away before you could ask again. “Well, we did some things, but not that. You were drunk and I would never.” 

Now it was your turn to raise a brow. 

“I mean...I wanted to but...I sound like such a fucking tosser right now. Have I told you how fit you look in my shirt?”

“You don’t though. Sound like a tosser,” you mumbled, biting your lip, face heating intensely. “It’s sweet.”

He scoffed, groaning as his head dropped backward. “Nobody wants to be called sweet, Y/N. That’s what you say about your brother or the guy you’re letting down nicely.”

“Maybe the girls you usually go for,” you said, tilting your own head to whisper in his ear. “I happen to like sweet.”

You smiled at him, eyes dancing as he watched you curiously. 

“So what I did last night...” he asked, looking down at you, dark eyes soft and hopeful. 

“Hm. You should definitely do it again. You know, just to remind me what it was,” you said with a smirk.

He leaned down to capture your mouth in his, inhaling sharply as he did, the sound hungry and desperate, trailing into a moan that you matched as your lips connected. One of your hands curled against his chest again, and the other gripped his arm, desperate for purchase as your legs buckled beneath you from the intensity of it. Alfie giggled, catching your waist to support you. 

“Oh,” you said, pulling away. 

“Alfie magic, works on all the ladies,” he said, smirking as if you didn’t notice that he was just as breathless as you.

You rolled your eyes fondly, stretching up on your toes to press a kiss to his cheek now. 

“Tell you what, I need a shower, but maybe we can revisit your magic...and the idea of going back to bed...when I’m done?” your heart skipped a beat and the heat from your face crept down your neck and along your scalp as you suggested it.

“Yeah?” he asked, face boyish and hopeful as he caught your implication. He flopped dramatically onto the bed, posing like he was about to ask you to draw him like a french girl. “I’ll be waiting right here for you my love. Oh, and towels are in the cupboard.”

[kyber-kisses]

Southern Nights (4/4)

Dean Winchester x Reader

Warnings: it’s a little angsty, very slight canon divergence and spoilers for s12. its a bittersweet ending.

Summary: After a situation with the BMoL, Dean finds himself running towards the person he fears for the most besides his brother. But even when he finds her safe and alive, he can see that something isnt right.

A/n: final part is finally here, folks! I hope you all enjoy and pretty please tell me what you thought!

Part 1       Part 2        Part 3

You were a difficult person to keep at arms length to say the least. Because no matter how hard Dean tried, he gravitated back to you, just as you did him. You had fallen asleep hours ago, but the older Winchester drifted in and out of consciousness like the tide. At some point in the night you had found your way back to Dean, cuddling up close to him despite the still warm temperature. He should have rolled away, not given in to the temptation of you being so close, but he couldn't help it. In the darkness your cuddles were like a little touch of heaven. He wished he could extend the night just so he could stay close to you longer, safe in your embrace. Your arms wrapped around him brought a peace he had never known before. Sometimes Dean thinks its you that gives him hope for the future. That there is nothing to fear, and monsters no longer exist.

He eventually drifted off to sleep like so many times before. . .it doesn't last long though.

The neon numbers on your bedside clock read 4:23 AM when Dean suddenly felt a firm hand shake him awake, the hunter letting out a groan as he attempted to snuggle closer to you.

“Dean?”

Another groan.

“Dean.”

“What, Sam? It’s four thirty in the morning.” Dean grumbled, trying desperately to fall back asleep.

“I know we planned on leaving after breakfast but we gotta go now.”

That got Dean to pick his head off the pillow and wriggle his arm out from underneath you. “What?”

“Jody just called. She found Mom-“

Rubbing the sleep from his eyes, Dean slowly sat up, checking to make sure you were still asleep. “So what? Can’t that wait a few hours?”

Sam let out a deep sigh, pinching the bridge of his nose. “She attacked Jody. Tried to kill her.”

“WHat?!”

“Shh! And yes. It might be some kind of mind control- I don’t know. But we gotta hit the road.”

“Shit. Shit okay, yeah.” Throwing back the covers, Dean was out of bed in   seconds, moving out of the room to throw his belongings back into his bag.

The two worked as silently as possible, trying not to wake you from your sleep. That type of early morning sneakiness where the sounds of everything else somehow felt amplified, like the floorboards creaking or the kitchen appliances whirring. They kept as little lights on as they could, even when beginning to load up the car.

It was only when he was grabbing the last bag and flicking off the lights,  did  Dean stop in front of the doorway to your bedroom. The moonlight slipping through the open window to illuminate your sleeping figure.

There was a whispered shout from Sam at the front door, urging him to keep moving.

“Dean-“

“Just-   just give me one second.” Dropping his bag back onto the couch, Dean  made his way back into the room. He knew you would be pissed beyond belief if he left without saying goodbye. It didn't help that he didn't even want to leave in the first place, but there were people that needed saving and monsters that needed killing. Leaving you was never easy.

Sinking down softly onto the edge of the bed, Dean gave your arm a soft squeeze. “Y/N, Y/N I need you to wake up for a second.”

It took a moment but eventually you let out a soft hum.

“Sammy and I got to go. Something happened at Jody's with mom and we can’t stick around.”

Groggy with sleep, you slowly blinked awake, propping yourself up on one elbow. “What?”

“I don’t know the specifics, but I’ll call you as soon as I know.”

“Do you need me to come with?”

“No. No you stay here. You deserve a break. Rest.”

“But Dean-“

Dean only shook his head, pushing away the loose hairs around your face. “I’m gonna call you as often as I can. I don’t know when Sam and I will be able to come back down here again-“

“That’s okay. Go save your mom.” You nodded, sitting up further. “I’ll be fine here.”

“That’s another thing. If those British bastards show up-“

“Dean, if they haven’t found me now- they ain’t finding me ever.”

The moonlight cast sharp shadows across the Winchesters face as he nodded, contemplating whether or not to say one last thing.

“I should- I should probably go.”

“Here-“ already throwing back the covers you began to get up. “I’ll walk you out.”

“No,no that’s okay.” He assured you, rising from the bed. “You go back to sleep.”

“Dean-“

“I’ll call you when we cross the border. I’ll talk to you soon.” Giving you one last kiss on the cheek, Dean rose left the room, leaving you with a bundle of emotions in your chest.

Before this you hadn’t talked or seen Dean and weeks. . . And now his sudden trip here had been cut short and you didn’t know how to feel. It sort of felt like you were being taunted with a piece of meat. Now he was leaving and you had no idea when the two of you would see each other again.

You sat in silence up until your heard the front door close shut lightly and then like a switch being flicked you threw off your covers and quickly bolted through the house. No. You weren’t gonna let him leave that easily. Not without a proper goodbye. Not when he had just helped you so much with your guilt about quitting hunting. He deserved better.

“Dean!” Throwing open the screen door you skidded to a stop on the front steps, both hunters turning in surprise as the door banged shut behind you. Dean had only begun opening the drivers door when he saw you and stopped.

“Y/N?“

screw the whole hunters shouldn't get close to people rule. This was your life and you were seizing control. Ignoring the fact that the sprinklers were currently running, you took quick steps down the stairs before rushing across the wet grass, your t-shirt and sleep shorts getting soaked almost instantly.

Deans eyes widened in sudden sunrise at what you were doing. Taking his hand off the car door he quickly moved forward to catch you as your feet slipped on the grass- at least he thought you were slipping. In reality you had launched yourself into his arms, legs winding around his torso as you hugged him.

“What the hell are you doing?” he wheezed, still slightly stumbling at the sheer force of your collision before letting his arms wrap around you.

“You don't get to get off the hook that easy.” you mumbled, a silence falling over the two of you momentarily as Dean shared a confused look with his brother from over the roof of the car. Sam only shrugged. the only sound being the soft putter and hiss of the sprinklers. Somewhere nearby a dog barked.

“what?”

“that was a lame ass goodbye you gave me.” You explained, pulling back just slightly to look down at him, wet hair sticking to your face. “Plus, I needed to say thank you.”

“For what?” Deans brow furrowed as he adjusted his secure grip on you.

“For understanding why I need to take a break. For not being upset.”

“I could never be upset at you. Plus, now I don't need to constantly worry about you getting yourself killed.” He sighed, setting you back down on your bare feet. Neither of you paid attention to the slam of the car door as Sam slid into his seat, clearly trying to give the two of you a moment alone.

“fair point.”

Dean smiled as he walked you back  towards the steps of the porch. His hand clutching yours. He only paused when your feet were securely on the steps, your faces level. Giving a look back to the car and the soft rumble of the engine filling the early morning air he took a deep breath, the streetlight at the end of the dirt driveway was already pointing him in the direction he was about to travel. He hated it whenever the two of you had to go separate ways, but that was how this life worked. “I gotta get going.”

“I know.”

Dean gave you one last look before nodding, his hand slipping from yours as he made his way back across the grass. The feeling of your eyes on him giving him slight shivers.

Just get in the car and drive, Dean.

Apparently his heart had another idea, because halfway to the running vehicle he shook his head, spun on his heel and marched back towards the porch, your own retreating figure halting to look back.

“alright, now what are you doi-”

Before you can even reach the last syllable, you find his lips interlocking with yours, calloused hands moving to your cheeks as he pulled you in closer to deepen it once he felt you kiss back with wet lips, clearly having yet to wipe the water from the sprinklers from your face. You drew your tongue over his teeth and swallowed his groan as you pressed closer together, no visible gap between you, even as your hands went to his face as well.

So long. You had wanted this for so long.

Somehow for the both of you it was both a goodbye and a reason to hold on. You felt yourself tremble. You suddenly felt like a coward in that moment. You didn't want him to leave. The sun would rise in a few hours and he would be long gone by then.

Dean pulled back slightly breathless, both sets of hands refusing to move the other persons face. Why did he have to go? Why couldn't his life be simple?

“I am so in love with you.” he breathed, taking in every inch of your face and committing it to memory. “So, so in love.”

You were stunned silent for a moment, a wave of fear rippling through the Winchester as he watched you. God. He should have kept his damn mouth shut and just walked away.

But then you smiled. It crept across your face slowly in a similar fashion as a rising sun- and then you were pulling his face in again and pressing another deep kiss to his lips.

“I love you too, you bastard.”

When you pulled back you were met with the purest set of puppy dog eyes you had ever seen, the hunter looking at you like he almost couldn't believe you existed. You raised an eyebrow.

“I don't know why you look so surprised, I thought the two of us were pretty obvious.” You joked, watching as a light laugh left his lips, the same look still glued to his face. Behind him the car honked, snapping him out of his daze.

“Right- I uh- I should get going.” he swallowed, taking a step back. “Will you be okay here by yourself?”

You gave him one  last soft smile, hand going up to cradle his cheek like the   night  before. “I always am Mo Graigdh. Don’t worry about me.”

“You ever gonna tell me what that actually means or you gonna leave me   hanging in suspense until I’m on my death bed?” Dean smiled, looking at you with big jade irises.

“Would it kill you to learn a language or two?”

“Probably.”

A light laugh left your lips as his blunt response. The kind that made Dean feel like he had been wrapped in sunlight.

“Well, if it matters that much to you- there’s this fun thing called the internet. It might help.”

“Haha   funny.” Letting go of your hand, Dean pressed one final kiss to your   knuckles. “Anyways, go back to bed. I’ll talk to you in the morning.”

“Okay. Be careful.”

Walking back across the grass towards the car Dean gave you a salute and a wink. “Always am.”

Leaving was never easy but the older Winchester kept his composure until he   was behind the wheel. As he put the vehicle in drive and headed off down the dirt driveway he gave one last look to the rear view mirror, seeing you still standing on the porch, illuminated by the porch light as you watched them go. Dean didn't know when he would see you again, but he hoped it was sooner rather than later.

The older Winchester maybe got five minutes of silence before Sam spoke up from his spot in the passengers seat.

“Dean?”

“Hmm?”

“Do you remember that conversation we had about a year back?”

Dean paused before peeling his eyes off the road to glance at his brother. “Sammy, you're gonna have to be a little more specific than that.”

Sam chuckled, glancing down at the road map in his lap. “You know, about ever wanting something more? With a hunter? Someone who understands the life?”

There was another pause as Dean focused his eyes back on the road before humming a soft response. To the east the clouds were beginning to ligthen, telling them the sun was beginning to rise and a new day was slowly rolling into motion.

“. . .is that Y/N?”

another pause.

“Yeah. Yeah, it is.”

SPN Taglist: (Still Open)

@familybusinesswritingbro@a–1–1–3 @awesome-badass-cafeteria-sauce @music-is-all-i-need @agusdoti @callmekda​​ @jordangdelacruz​​ @orphiceseum​​ @andthatsmyworld​​ @marvelfangirllll​​ @fandomnerdespressourself​​ @gladiosamicitias @castielsangelsx​​ @lxstgxrl-ck​​ @tis-i-the-wayward-idgit @amendoise @phoenixuprisingsstuff​​ @ericalynne007 @kaitlaitlaitl​​  @totallyluciferr​​ @supernaturalenchanted​​ @dolanfivsosxox@supernatural-ocs @emptycanvasposts​​ @akshi8278 @defenderrosetyler​​ @heyyy-hey-babyyy​​ @supernaturalenchanted@emptycanvasposts @vicmc624 @all-will-be-well-love@busy-bee-angel-misska @starsandmidnightblue​​ @lilulo-12fanfiction @beanie-beebo​​ @xoxoaudreymarie​​ @greenarrowhead​​ @mrsjenniferwinchester​​  @mysticalfuncollectorus​​ @brebolin​​ @biahblue​​ @noahandthegiraffe​​ @hhiggs​​ @mila-dans​​ @mrsmaybankhere​​ @malindacath​​  @littleagxs​​ @deanwanddamons​​ @idksupernatural​​​ @i-make-questionable-choices​

[lettersnorth]

Loe was following directly behind Locke, but even he knew to keep his distance a few feet away from the man taking the lead. And as they ventured down a short staircase leading down into the lower levels of the ship the two doors leading into the storeroom immediately came into view. The moment they arrived Locke turned towards the rest of the crew following after him as he brought a finger up to his lips, silently motioning for the others to stay quiet while he crept up towards the door with Loe following after him. For a man of Loe's size, stealth wasn't his strongest point but he made do as he gently shuffled over the floorboards.

From the other side of the door a soft, muffled voice could be heard. A woman's by Locke's guess, and one that was quickly met with the harsh sound of a man yelling in response whose words came out much clearer. "Hey! I said shut up!"

He knelt down on one knee and pressed his face towards the keyhole, peeking through it with one eye. "I see... there's a few in there. Blindfolded. Bound. One guard. Can't make out another." His words were soft but precise, relaying little else but the information they needed to assess the situation at hand.

"I can take him," he said toward Loe before a momentary pause. "But he's too far. I need to get closer."

"Your orders, Capt'n?"

"Kick the door in when I say so."

"Aye, say when."

Locke then turned toward Aislinn, motioning her to draw closer. "Aislinn, give us some cover. Don't fire if it can be avoided. We've still got the element of surprise for the party upstairs, and I'd hate to give that up now."

She nodded in reply to his words and then hesitated. From the way it sounded Locke’s plan was to go rushing headlong into the room. “As I recall, that iron plate strapped to your chest didn’t look like it could take another hit.” her glance shifted away from him, moving down to her gun on the pretense of checking her rounds. But she knew exactly how many were in the cylinder. “Just...keep that in mind.” she said, quiet.

"I can count on you to patch me up if it came to that, wouldn't I?" he said with a playful wink. Even in their current predicament he still had a way of easing tensions.

Yes, but that was hardly the point. Twelve above, she might have had the rug pulled out from under her regarding his chosen profession but she could clearly see he was still impossible. The look she gave him in reply said as much.

Locke then turned toward Loe, giving the man a nod of acknowledgement. One that Loe responded to in kind with a nod of his own as he took one step back as his right leg rose up into the air seconds before he slammed the sole of his boot against the door. Striking near the handle itself as the wood cracked and gave way to the forceful blow, opening a path to the storage room as Locke suddenly rushed forward with the gunblade in hand pointing directly behind him as he charged forward.

The sudden blow to the door caught the lone guard inside by surprise, and the man barely had time to react before Locke came barreling through. With a pull of the trigger it soon became clear why his crew had been so cautiously putting some space behind him. It sounded like a muffled gunshot going off. One dampened by a rush of heavy wind. The force being expelled from the barrel was enough to make the one door still standing rattle as it launched the Hyur forward and with a twist of his body he used his momentum to strengthen his swing, beheading the man in one fell swoop.

The poor bastard was barely quick enough to draw his own blade midway out of its sheath before collapsing onto the ground, headless.

All said, it was over in a blink of an eye and left Aislinn frozen in stunned silence still trying to piece it all back together. She lowered her gun and her wide-eyed gaze slid to Loe to gauge the Roegadyn’s reaction. No such shock lined his face, which told her such a feat from Locke hadn’t been out of the ordinary.

The sudden commotion sent a ripple of whispers and fearful gasps from the others on board. Men, women, and children alike all bound and blindfolded. There must have been a dozen of them in total.

"Seven hells," Locke muttered softly under his breath as he took a wary glance around the room. No other hostiles, it seemed.

Shaking herself, Aislinn holstered her gun and carefully moved into the room, her eye drawn against her will to the bodiless head that had rolled several paces away. The hostages seemed to be holding their collective breath.

“Not more of your crew, I take it?” she said in reply to Locke’s soft curse. She finally looked up at him, once again redrawing his measure with an inkling that it wouldn’t be the last time she did so. 

"No, I don't recognize this lot. If I had to guess, I'd say they're our missing merchants," he replied as he took out a small piece of cloth and ran it along the edge of his blade, cleaning off the blood that still clung to the metal before sliding it back into its sheath.

Aislinn crossed to the woman closest to them and knelt down. “Listen, it’s alright.” she said, careful to inject a soothing tone into her normally matter-of-fact voice. It was more to alert the blindfolded woman to her presence than anything else.

Touching her gently on the shoulders, Aislinn carefully turned her away from the sight of the bloody, beheaded man before freeing the blindfold from the woman’s eyes. That certainly didn’t need to be the first thing she laid eyes on.   “Can you tell me your name? How’d you end up on this ship?” Aislinn asked as the woman blinked against the sudden light.

"Loe, get an extra pair of hands and clean this up." Locke said as he motioned the Roegadyn over. Luckily for them, there was a large piece of cloth nearby that they could use to easily hide the body for now.

The woman visibly flinched and recoiled back the moment she heard Aislinn, but upon realizing the voice was a far throw from their guard's she began to relax. "Eve... Evelyn," she replied as the blindfold came free and she began to frantically glance around the room.

"Wait, my boy. Where's my boy?" she suddenly cried out.

The voice of a young child soon answered. "Mama? Mama! I'm right here. Mama, I'm scared." he practically whimpered.

The boy lay just few feet away sprawled across the floor, squirming in his binds in an attempt to drag himself closer towards the voice of his mother.

Aislinn immediately turned to the sound of the distressed child. The sight of him flailing on the floor squeezed her heart as well as any vise-like grip. Moving to his side, she murmured a few reassuring words as she slipped a small knife from her boot and hurriedly cut his binds and pulled the blindfold down from his eyes.

With a cry, he clumsily launched himself at his mother who, still wrapped in her own ties, was nearly bowled over by the force. Aislinn made short work of her binds as well and then stood back, turning to look over the rest of the hostages, all who had their necks craned to the sounds of one little boy’s reunion with his mother. Uncertain and cautious hope rippling through them.

“Oh, thank the Twelve.” the woman dissolved into tears as her arms wrapped around her son and pulled him close to her, kissing his hair, his cheek. “It’s okay. We’re going to be okay.”

A dark look passed like a cloud over Aislinn’s face. There was an anger in her heart ready to paint the deck above red with the bodies of those who had done this. She spared a brief glance at Locke, letting her expression speak for her before she turned and, starting with the closest hostage, began freeing them one by one.

Locke motioned a few members of his crew over to follow Aislinn's example and do the same while the others went to retrieving their weapons in a nearby chest tucked away in the corner of a room. Even from her brief glance the anger in her features was as clear as day, and with the help of a few extra hands it wasn't long before the entirety of the hostages were freed.

"Thank you," some muttered quietly under their breaths toward Aislinn while a handful said nothing at all, but the anxiety was evident on their faces. And once the last man was freed it was Locke who spoke at the center of them all.

"We're not quite out of the woods yet, folks. Afraid there's still some matters to take care of upstairs. Rest assured, we'll see it done and once it's over I'll be sure to get you lot home. Until then I need you folks to sit tight." he said as a few anxious whispers spread over the group.

With the hostages freed, Aislinn had stepped back to the fringes of the room while the crew gathered their weapons and whatever else they might need from the storeroom for the fight that awaited them above. As Locke addressed the frightened merchants, she listened, of course, but more than that she watched. If he was angry his ship had been stolen out from under him and used to kidnap people across La Noscea, her rightful crew relegated to a dank brig, there was surely no sign of it at that moment. He was nothing but calm, confident reassurance. Because he could see plain as day that was what these people needed. Assurance that all would be well. 

And there lay the crux of it all. A Captain needed to be a natural born performer. Because the crew was always watching, judging from his actions alone when they needed to be concerned, when they didn’t. In any situation they took their cue from him. The thought struck Aislinn with a sudden dose of clarity. How exhausting, to be ‘on’ all the time.

Locke then turned toward the woman and her son, the first of the two that Aislinn had freed. The boy clung toward his mother's side, shrinking away as Locke now stood before them.

The Hyur knelt down, bringing himself at eye level with them both as he glanced toward the boy and flashed a reassuring smile. A familiar sight to Aislinn in their brief time together. "Easy now, no one's gonna hurt you. I can promise you that. You've been a brave kid to tough it out this far. I know, why don't I show you a magic trick?"

The boy just sat there silently as Locke fished a single coin from his pocket. Another familiar trick. He let it roll between his fingers before clenching it into his right hand in a tightly wound fist. "Now, which hand is it in?" he asked the boy who pointed directly toward his right only for Locke to open it to reveal it empty.

The boy's mouth fell open as he stared in shock before quickly pointed toward Locke's left, and once again he opened it to reveal an empty palm.

"That's odd, now where did I... oh, that's right," Locke grinned as he reached forward, plucking the coin right out from behind the boy's ear. "Now how did that get there, I wonder." His words were met by a soft bout of laughter from the boy who finally relaxed his hold against his mother's arm.

"What's your name?"

"Ian," the boy replied.

"Ian, why don't you hold onto this for now?" Locke said as he placed the coin into the boy's hand. "It's a good luck charm. Kept me safe plenty of times, and now it can do the same for you." To which the boy eagerly accepted with a nod. "Now, I have a special job for you, Ian. My friends and I need to go upstairs to take care of some bad people, but I'll need someone down here to keep an eye on things and protect the others. You think you can do that for me?"

"I... I don't know mister. I'm not too sure I can,"

"What, a brave kid like you? Nonsense. I can't think of anyone else I'd trust with this job."

"Well, okay... um, I can sure try."

"Aye, that a boy." Locke reached out to gently ruffle the kid's hair before he rose and made his way toward Aislinn. "Shall we?"

As Locke approached, she dropped her hand from her chest and nodded, ignoring the uncomfortable sensation of heat and flame that had begun to radiate within from the center of her chest. It had been happening more and more since the business with Red Argos began. Perhaps she was much more of an angry person than she had ever thought herself to be. A disconcerting idea, to be sure, and one she didn’t enjoy entertaining. She never pegged herself as having an uncontrollable temper. Certainly not one that burned from the inside out.

“You were right, of course. That trick is a big hit with kids.” she paused as she took a careful look into the hall. “I don’t think little Ian is going to lose that coin any time soon. Not when you've gone and turned it into bona fide good luck charm.”

She turned back to him and signaled that the way was clear.

He chuckled softly and maneuvered himself to take point once more but before he walked past he paused to draw his revolver from its holster before flipping it around and holding it out towards Aislinn with its handle pointed in her direction. "Here, take it. You're a damn good shot but it's all close quarters from here. I expect it back once this is all said and done."

"Boss, we're ready," said Loe as he approached with a heavy looking two-handed hammer in his grasp along with the others of his crew, each armed with weapons of their own.

"Aye, right to it then. Let's not keep our gracious hosts waiting."

[starr-fall-knight-rise]

Humans are Space Orcs, “Fear

Something I wrote for you all really quick this morning. Forgive any grammar mistakes :) Have a great day.

Fear….. I think it would be safe to say that it is the one universal emotion across the galaxy. For most of us, fear is a means to an end: a simple mode of survival, but for humans….. Well fear is something more. Fo us fear comes in situations where we might die, and that’s it. The only thing we fear is the loss of life before our time is up.

Humanity….. Humanity fears implication.

Sure humans experience fear in life or death situations, but sometimes they don’t . Humans will jump from planes, play with fire, and swim deep under the crushing weight of water well over three to four times the pressure  of their own gravity. They will tie ropes to their ankles and then jump off of high places.

I don’t think I have ever seen a human that was truly afraid, or at least not overtly…. Not until today anyway.

Sure humans fear death, but they fear implications more. Life or death situations are hardly an issue when you have your own imagination to fear. Humans are a strange species that can leap from the sky for a thrill, but alone in the darkness and safety of their own homes, they conjure up things to fear in the dark. THey see shadows out of the corners of their eyes and reflections in mirrors at their backs. 

They fear the implication of things that are unseen.

Believe me, the human mind is a horror house or personal torture.

Just watch their movies, and I promise you that some of the scariest ones to humans, do not involve natural disaster, life or death, or even dangerous killers, but they do involve the unexplainable, the uncontrollable. Those things that hide unseen in the dark and infect the mind like an insidious disease.

Man does not fear life or death, he fears his own mind and what might hide in it’s dark recesses.

***

“Get everything locked up, we do not want to be out here after dark.” The Commander ordered, pushing through a thick stand of deep purple foliage, and out into a large-circular clearing where three of their shuttles stood surrounded by that day’s camping supplies, and a group of waiting marines.

They stood as the second team of marines trudged their way from the bushes covered in dirt, slime, and sweat from their day’s work.

“Break it all down and get it back inside.” The commander ordered.

Krill, who had been waiting in camp with the marines floated over to absently eye the marines as if for scratches scrapes and bruises. Sunny was the last to break through the trees hauling her bulk over a mossy stone and onto the strange purple moss of the clearing. She snorted a leaf from her face, “Why in such a hurry, Commander, afraid of the dark.” Her voice was playful, but the expression he shot her was serious. 

She stopped 

“No, not the dark, but what might be hiding in it.” He began locking their food away into the climate-controlled lock boxes, “Plus, the last group of colonizers that tried to settle on this place ran screaming after one night. THe UNSC wants to know what’s up. The report had something to do with a ‘mimic” Now I’m ot sure what that means, the civilians were to shaken up to talk, but they seemed adamant that it was important not to go outside after dark, and I am not in the habit of ignoring warnings.”

Sunny nodded a tiny bit apprehensive. Whatever could have made a human run screaming was not something she particularly wanted to deal with.

Krill was as skeptical as ever, “Probably just some strange planetary creature, no big deal. They probably saw it, assumed it was some sort of folk monster and worked themselves up enough to run away.” 

Commander Vir didn’t say anything, but didn’t look like he agreed. Then again, he was known heavily as the kind of man that likes to give people the benefit of the doubt.

They got the camp packed up just as the star was beginning to set in the north (the planet had a strange rotation relative to its magnetic field)), and Commander Vir made sure his marines had entered the shuttles and closed the door remaining the last one before coming into the third shuttle and closing the door behind him. 

Two other marines were watching the monitors in the cockpit, so he took a seat on his bedroll next to where sunny sat by the wall idly tracing her claws through the striations on the floor. Krill floated not too distantly listening to the sound of idle conversation.

Sunset came and went, and nothing on the camera peaked the marine’s interest.

They left one person on watch for that night while the other came back to select a bedroll and get some sleep.

Commander Vir and Sunny were out like lights back to back with each other in the tropical warmth of the planet’s midnight atmosphere. It hardly seemed like a bad place to settle down. Even Krill had dropped into his half-meditative trance still partially aware of what was going on around him.

***

“Adam!.” Commander Vir jolted away in a cold sweat looking around for where the voice had originated. Most everyone else was still asleep. He shook himself a little. That was strange, for a second he thought that maybe the infected starborn had returned to take over his mind, but…. Starborn couldn’t survive on the face of a planet….. And he would have sworn that voice was the voice of a child.

He rubbed his eyes, stood and moved into the cockpit where one of the marines was still watching the cameras, “Anything?” He muttered, but the marine shook his head. He was just opening his mouth to say something when.

A baby began to cry just outside the shuttle door.

The marine leaped to his feet eyes wide, “What the hell.”

His voice caused everyone else in the compartment to store.

“Adam.” Commander Vir turned in a wild circle to face the wall behind him. Of course he couldn’t see anything because the voice had been just on the other side, like a small child pressing their mouth to the metal, whispering.

A few more of the marines had stood up eyes turned to the hatch with the sound of the crying baby still echoing through the metal, slightly muffled by the door. One of the marines got to his feat and reached for the handle, but Commander vVir caught him, “NO ... that's not a baby marinee. We are the only people on this planet.”

The marine turned to look at him eyes wide with concern, “But, Sir maybe it’s one of the settlers.”

“They may not have been coherent, but they would have told us if they were missing a baby.” 

“Adam, Adam, Adam…..” As the voice repeated it plunged from the high chirp of a child deeper and deeper into a demonic growl.”

“Adam!” Something slammed against the side of the shuttle.

The marines yelled out in alarm. Commander Vir jumped back. Something skittered and clawed at the metal outside. More voices joined in whispering pleading. Voices rose and fell, more often than not mimicking the sound of children.

Sunny was up now and found herself at the center of a group of humans who had backed themselves into a circle eyes wide.

The sounds died away for a few moments, leaving them in the deep silence of the forest.

There was a knock on the door, “Daddy…. Daddy, let me in, I'm scared….. Help me.” 

One of the marines turned his wide eyed face to the commander and then back to the door, “Jamie.”

A hand clamped around his shoulder, “No, marine, that isn’t who you think it is.”

“Daddy….. Daddy please help me.” The knocking turned to a frantic banging then a thudding, “Daddy please, something is coming!”

The sound of a small body throwing itself against the door repeated over and over and over again.

The marine’s face was streaked with tears, but he held his ground.

However, as they listened, the sound of thudding grew louder and louder. The shuttle rocked violently.

A child could not have had the strength to do that.

The marines cowered back against each other weapons pointed towards the hatch.

The voices faded turning themselves back into gibbering whispers.

Whispering died away replaced by the sound of something rushing through the trees. Thud thud thud on the pad of feet. It’s movements where unholy. It’s feet or hands, whatever they were were soft, and something dragged behind it.

Pad, pad scrape, pad pad, scrape.

“Let me in.” The voice was loud and sudden emanating from about knee height and right behind them. A girl’s voice throat torn and ragged, from fire….. Or from screaming.

The marines yelped and turned to the corner where something now scratched against the metal.

Commander Vir was the first to voice what al the humans were thinking, “Fuck this, let’s get out of here.”  With that, he rushed into the cockpit giving a cursory glance to the cameras, but seeing nothing. Engaging the coms system he opened a line to the other shuttles, “Bravo, Charlie, this is Alpha leader ordering and immediate launch, do you copy.”

For a horrifying moment, it seemed as if they wouldn’t answer, but then two voices crackled over the line breathless and hopeful, filled with their agreement.

Commander Vir engaged the launch sequence as the other marines strapped themselves in. Krill and Sunny looked around the cockpit in confusion hardly understanding what was going on. Sure there was something creepy outside, but it was outside….

They had never seen the human’s cut and run so fast before.

And they Cut and run as fast as they possibly could, making it out of atmosphere in record time.

***

Back aboard the ship, only the graveyard skeleton crew was there to meet them surprised and worried to find three teams of frightened bedraggled marines, and their more than paranoid Commander eyeing the shadows in unfounded paranoia.

Krill watched from the side confused.

Sunny looked on in worry.

The skeleton crew got to work packing up the gear allowing the marines to return to the crew quarters for a rest. Commander Vir followed, but paused in the long hallway up to the Captain’s quarters glancing back at Sunny. She was about ready to head down the hall to her room when he spoke, “You know…. Um maybe it is best if….. If maybe, we set up a watch for-for tonight. I mean just to make sure nothing ended up hitching a ride or…. Or something..”

Sunny looked at him in surprise, “But captain, space….”

“Yeah yeah…. I know, I mean…. Just in case, but like in the rec room….. Where we have light, and space to fight…. If we have to.”

She tilted her head at him, but finally nodded in agreement.

She had never seen such a look of relief on anyone’s face before, and together they made their way to the rec room, set up one of the couches and began their “watch.” A watch that simply turned into Adam leaning against her arm and promptly falling asleep.

She rolled her eyes a little, and was about to do the same when a soft thud echoed to her from down the hallway. She opened her eyes suddenly awake and alert ready for some creature to come around the corner, but instead one of the marines poked his head in, “Er….. do you guys you know… need help.”

Sunny looked down at the sleeping Commander and sighed, “The more the merrier I suppose.”

“Oh… ok…. I guess I can help.” He walked over, selected a beanbag, pulled it up to her feet, and immediately followed his Commander’s lead.

Sunny sighed and closed her eyes, not even bothering to open them when the next set of footsteps moved up the hall, “Yes ... we are on watch, and obviously we need your help.” 

This marine took the other side of the couch.

By the end of a half hour span Sunny sat lording over a room full of uneasily sleeping humans, and she idly wondered if this is what it would have been like to have a brood of her own. However, since she wasn’t likely to ever experienced that, she would happily protect these ones from the dark

***

Other species don’t mind the mimics so much. However, for some reason they have a profound impact on humans. My theory is that, like the starborn they have some ability in telepathy, and because of this, they have complete access to the one thing that humans fear most. 

Their own imagination 

[doing-all-write]

don’t be a baby pt. 3

Pairing: Billy x Fem!Reader

Summary: Reader discovers that Billy isn’t actually dead. Which changes everything. But also, nothing at all. 

Read part 1 HERE

Read part 2 HERE

Word Count: 7K

Warnings: SMUT (only 18+ interact PLZ), swearing, blood, explosions, fighting and some SOFT FEELINGS FOLKS OH BOY.

A/N: SURPRISE! Here’s part 3 of don’t be a baby! I hope you all love this ending, I’m so happy with how it ended so please enjoy! 

💖💖As always, likes, comments and reblogs are always appreciated! 💖💖

“You bastard.” 

The growl that came crawling out of her throat came from the basest, most animalistic part of her. Billy felt the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. 

"You fucking prick." Finally wrenching her hand from his, she reached up, ripping his hood off, fully bringing Billy’s feature into the light. 

Her jaw went slack, her complexion ghost white as Billy stood there. Knowing there was nothing he could say or do to make this situation better or less confusing. 

"You-you-no. No. This is impossible. There was a coffin. We had a funeral. Billy. I mourned you. I am still mourning you. What the fuck-"

"One found me on the ground after that last mission. He offered me this chance and-"

She hadn't even been aware she’d been moving away from him until her back hit the wall and her legs gave out completely.

Sliding to the floor, she pulled her knees into her chest, bringing her head down to take deep gulps of air as Billy stood over her Clenching and unclenching his hands, wanting nothing more than to wrap his arms around her but not knowing if that would make things better or worse, 

"I couldn't not take it love-(Y/N)" catching himself before he called her the old pet name, "It was the best option for me. I got a fresh start. I get to help people. It's steady work and I get to do what I love. Plus, you deserve someone better than me, it was only a matter of time before you realized it anyway..." His voice trailed off as she went stock still. 

~

Watching the monitors, the rest of the team jockeyed around One for position as he relayed what was being said in the room like a sports commentator, "Ooo, he just went for the 'you deserve better than me so I faked my own death' route! That one never works folks. Trust me, I've tried." Five rolled her eyes as Seven snickered. 

"DAMN!" Three exclaimed as the rest of the team broke out in screams as (Y/N) launched herself at Billy, fists flying and teeth bared. 

~

He didn't think she wanted him? He hadn't even asked her what she wanted, they had never even talked about it but only because his selfish ass had gone and written the ending of their story before it had even had a chance to start. The shock drained away, to be replaced by anger. It rose through her blood stream, lighting her body up, until it reached her eyes. She knew that the look in her eyes was feral, bordering on unhinged so it brought her some small joy to see his face blanche at the sight as her (Y/E/C) eyes met his blue ones.

"You no good, lying, piece of shit, COWARD." She had tried her best to keep her voice calm but the last word scraped past her vocal cords in a roar as she launched her body at him. 

The rational part of her brain knew she wasn’t thinking straight but the other part of her brain that had been wallowing in depression, hopelessness, anger and loss for 365 days was ready to fight. 

"You promised. You said you would come back to me and you didn't. But you've been alive this whole goddamn time and now you're in front of me telling me that you didn't think I would want you? And instead of talking to me, you pretend to kill yourself?" Each word was punctuated by a well placed kick, punch or slap on Billy's person. 

“I thought ghosting was bad but this takes it to a whole new LEVEL.” she shrieked as she aimed a left hook to Billy’s kidney. 

Those boxing lessons paid off, she briefly thought to herself. 

There was a part of Billy that had prepared himself for this kind of reaction. He wasn’t even trying to defend himself from her. He knew this was the least he deserved and honestly, he was glad she was even touching him at all. 

Continuing her onslaught on Billy, she hoped she left bruises. A physical representation of the bruising he had caused on her heart over the past year. Growling, she kept up a running commentary of what exactly Billy was since he had left her behind. 

Billy kept his eyes trained forward, as her fists kept up a steady rhythm on his body. Shoulders straight, hands loose at his sides, waiting for some kind of sign that she was slowing down. He risked a glance down and saw her cheeks glistening with tears.

His heart broke into a million pieces. He felt his throat tighten as the tears that he had tried to hold back, welled up in his own eyes. 

She knew distantly that the wetness she felt wasn't sweat. She just prayed that Billy didn't notice them. She didn't want him to think she was weak. As that thought crossed her brain, she realized her punches were getting softer and softer. The rapid pattern she had been striking Billy with had slowed considerably. 

"You son of a bitch. You promised." The last word came out in a ragged wisp as she felt the adrenaline leave her body and despondency begin to take its place. 

"Don't you love me?" Billy's arms reached for her instinctually at those four words. Pulling her frame into his broad chest, he felt her crumble against him as her sobs echoed throughout the room. 

"Shh, love, I'm sorry. I'm sorry. I know, rest now. I'm so sorry, my love." He whispered, letting his head drop down so his lips grazed her ear as he repeated his apology over and over again. She felt herself getting irritated with her own body when it gave an impulsive shudder at the nearness of him. 

Distantly, she realized that the months of chasing the spark she had with Billy with other men had been pointless. There was no way to recreate it because Billy was the spark. There was no way to recreate what they had because there was no one else like Billy and she didn’t want anyone but Billy.

Feeling the cold concrete of the ground seeping through her leggings, she registered that she must have sunk to the ground as Billy kept his arms around her, both of them huddled on the floor as she sobbed and half heartedly struck Billy’s chest with a weak fist, whispering a few choice phrases such as "fuck you" or "bastard". 

The last thing she remembered was Billy whispering the words ``I'm sorry, I'm sorry, I'm sorry" over and over again as he rocked her back and forth as she felt herself drift into unconsciousness.  

~~~

It was the first sleep she'd had where she didn't dream. 

Eyelids fluttering open, she blinked the drowsiness away, forgetting about where she was and why she was on a cot with the desert sun piercing through the linen curtains over the window next to her.

Then it all came slamming back to her with such force that it pulled the air from her lungs. Crushing her knees into her chest she rolled into a ball, breathing into the cave she’d created for herself. Listening to her breath cycle through her body helped to ground her into the fucked up reality she’d woken up in. 

After a few minutes, she lifted her head and took a deep breath in. Exhaling, she swung her legs over the edge of the cot and walked toward a door that she assumed was a bathroom. 

Seeing that the door had been cracked open she hesitated, not wanting to barge in if someone was already in there. Leaning forward she tried to see who it was. 

Her breath was ripped from her lungs for a second time as her eyes were met with the broad expanse of Billy's back. He was twisting in the mirror, trying to rub gel onto the bruise that was blooming on his side from her fists. 

Guilt blossomed in her gut as she thought about how she had hurt him, then figured it was the least she could do to him considering he had caused her more pain and suffering than any one person should feel in their lifetime. 

A whine interrupted her thought process as Billy pressed too hard on the bruise that had flowered by his rib cage. The guilt came crawling back and she gently knocked on the door, pushing it open. 

"Do, uh, do you need help?" Feeling shy suddenly, she trained her eyes on Billy's feet which shuffled back and forth, as if trying to decide if he wanted to be closer to her or afraid she would hit him again.

“Yeah-yes. I need your help.” He cleared his throat, “I need you.” 

Studiously avoiding eye contact, she reached for the gel he had been trying to apply. She took it from his hands and rubbed some onto her palms. Feeling his gaze burning into her, she forced herself to focus on the task at hand. 

The scent of eucalyptus filled the air as she pressed her palms onto his skin. He couldn't fight the hiss that leaked out from between his teeth. 

Her lips quirked up as she whispered, "Don't be a baby." 

Their eyes met and he couldn't help what happened next, he kissed her. 

Rising up to meet the harsh push of Billy's lips against her, lust roared to life in the pit of her stomach. Grasping Billy's biceps she leaped into the air, wrapping her legs around his waist. Billy's arms flew up to wrap around her as they both pressed their lips into each other, moaning as she clawed at his back. He deposited her on the sink counter as he reached a leg out to kick the bathroom door shut, praying that no one tried to open the door because fuck. He wasn't going to stop kissing her just to lock a damn door. 

She pulled back, ripping a wimper from Billy. Smirking, she nipped at his bottom lip, then ran her tongue delicately over the red spot that was blooming there. Moaning, he thrusted his hips forward, trying to find something to help relieve the pressure building in his cock. Her moans mixed with his as she pressed her own hips forward.  

Billy's hands gripped her waist as he stepped in between her legs, pumping his hips forward, meeting her needy thrusts with his own. Gasping at the feeling of Billy's length rubbing against her, Billy let out a groan as he wound a hand into her hair, pulling it to expose the line of her throat as he nipped down it, humming with each whine she let out. 

Running her hands down his arms, she moved his hands to grasp at her tits, pushing them into his hands to drive home where she wanted him to touch her most. Chuckling, he ran his thumbs over her breasts, brushing the pad of his thumb over the peak her nipples made through her tank top. 

Keening she reached forward, grasping the edge of his joggers, pulling him forward as she nudged them down, grasping his cock at the base, stroking it. 

Billy growled at the action, grasping the waistband of her leggings, he wiggled them down her thighs till they pooled around her ankles. Kissing her deeply, he brushed the head of his cock against her folds, moaning when he felt the wetness gathering on the head. 

Reaching down, he grasped her thighs, pulling them apart so he could finally, finally, dip his cock into the folds of her cunt. Throwing her head back she let out a stream of curses, Billy biting his lip as he rolled his hips forward, both of them falling into a familiar rhythm as she dug her nails into Billy's shoulders. 

Fingertips sinking into the flesh around her hips, Billy growled into her mouth, causing her to clench the walls of her cunt around his cock. Whimpering, she moved her hand down to rub at her clit. Billy batted her hand out of the way, “Let me.” he whispered before pressing his mouth more desperately against hers, as he began drawing circles over the sensitive nub. 

Moaning into his mouth, she felt her walls clenching even tighter as she rocked her hips sloppily against his own, knowing she was close. 

Feeling her grip around his cock, Billy knew she was close and he thanked the gods she was because he was positive he wouldn’t have lasted much longer. Pumping faster, he dug his hands so hard into her hips she knew there would be bruises there. 

Not that she minded. 

Feeling the fire gnawing its way through her, she clung to Billy desperately as he gave a few last rocks, pressing against her clit in the most delicious way, she gave into the pleasure sweeping over her. 

Her walls clamped around him, giving him the final nudge he needed to spill into her. Both of them groaned as the last few waves of pleasure swept over them. Her head came down to rest on Billy's shoulder. His hands still clamped on her hips, both of them breathing each other's scents as their fury wound down. 

The silence was interrupted by the crackle of the intercom, 

"Kinda pissed I wasn't the first one to get into those Nike leggings." 

"Fuck off." came their simultaneous response. Locking eyes, they both broke into smiles as Billy gingerly pulled himself from her. Helping her down from the counter, he cleaned them both up, helping her step out of her leggings but leaving her underwear on. As he pulled his own joggers up, he gently pushed her into the room she had just left. Stumbling back into the room, she felt exhaustion wash over her again. 

Collapsing once more into the bed, the last thing she remembered before dropping back into sleep was Billy padding into the room and her hand reaching out for him. Grasping for it so she could be sure he wouldn’t leave before she woke up.

~~~

Billy became suddenly aware there was a weight on his chest.

Stirring, he felt the mass curl into him further. Sniffing, he caught a whiff of the shampoo (Y/N) always used and knowing it was her curled into him was almost enough to have him break down into sobs. 

Bringing a hesitant hand to her waves, he gently stroked them as her chest rose and fell in a steady rhythm. 

Aware of the hand stroking her hair, she did her best to keep still so he wouldn't stop. She knew that when she woke they would need to have a serious conversation about...all of it. About Billy being alive. Them being on the same team. Would she be able to trust him again? There was a lot to discuss but right now she wanted to lay on his chest and pretend that it was the day after their first day together, the future ahead of them bright and unencumbered. 

Feeling her arm start to fall asleep, she figured it was time to wake up and face Billy. 

Feeling her stir, Billy's hand stilled on her waves, moving down to land on her hip as she shifted so she could shoot a sleepy smile up at him, "Morning" she croaked out and Billy thought he had never seen something so adorable in his entire life. 

Smiling, he replied, "Morning," then frowned, "or afternoon. I have no bloody idea what time or day it is to be quite honest with you." 

Letting out a wheezy laugh she brought her head back down to his chest as he wrapped an arm around her, bringing her closer to him, feeling more grounded already with her next to him. 

He knew they should talk about what his being alive meant for them and for the future, but he wanted to be selfish and hold onto these few peaceful moments. He’d realized how greedy he was when it came to spending time with (Y/N) but he couldn't help it. Every second, every minute, he wasn't next to her felt like a moment wasted. 

Sighing, she turned her face up to him, "I guess we should talk about...well...the fact that you're not dead." Bringing his other hand up to rub down his face, Billy let out a sigh, "Yeah, I s'pose we should." 

"Don't sound too excited." 

"You gonna hit me again?"

"You going to keep having that tone with me?"

Cowing immediately Billy ran his hand over her back, "No, 'course not (Y/N). Sorry."

Sniffing she nodded to show she'd acknowledged his apology. Her next question came out on a sigh, "Why, Billy?"

"Why what?"

"Why would you do this?"

It was Billy's turn to heave a sigh as he chose his next words with care. He wanted, needed, her to understand why he did what he did. He needed her to understand it wasn’t because he didn’t love, it was because he loved her too much. 

"Because...well...One's offer was too good to pass up. Truly. I could do all my Sky Walker stuff but also be able to help people. It was my chance to make a difference in the world, to do some massive good on a global scale." 

Sniffing back tears, she nodded mutely as she absentmindedly drew circles over his torso. "I understand that Billy, but...why did you have to break your promise?"

The sharp intake of breath from Billy caused her to raise her head, shock flooding her veins as she saw tears start to leak out of the corner of his eyes. Raising her thumb up, she swiped them away. 

"I didn't want to, (Y/N). But...I had to. One explained to me how dangerous this job was, is, and how people will do awful things to anyone connected to you. I...I couldn't bear the thought of you being caught in the crosshairs or having something happen to you because of me." 

"Okay but, why didn't you talk to me about it? You just assumed I would be okay with it? That I would tell you One was right? That I wouldn't fight for you? For us? C'mon Billy. Give me a little credit."

"Yeah, because you took so well to my original job." 

Her body stilled as she realized he was right. Not that she was happy about it. Sighing she tilted her head up to look into his eyes, "You're right. But that was before. This is...now. I'm different. I've changed." 

Billy's eyes roamed over her face, memorizing every detail of it. He took stock of her eyes, how the light was boarded up tight, like they were the first few times he’d talked to her. When she smiled or laughed, he saw a flash of it peek through only for her to quickly shove it back down.  

As she studied his own face, she desperately wanted to let her guard down. It would be so easy to slip into how it should have been but there was something that was holding her back. She couldn’t figure out what it was until it hit her like a freight train.

What if Billy really died? 

Now that she knew his death had been a ruse and he was still alive, this time, if he did die in this life...there really was no coming back from that. Her heart tore in half at the thought. 

"Love..." he hesitated to see how she would react to the pet name. When she didn't hit him or tell him not to use it, he continued, "Love, listen. This is totally your choice. If you think we can do this, then, I'm all in. This will be our new life together. But if there's even a shred of an issue, then you get to walk out that door. And you'll never hear from me again." His heart leaped when she wrapped her arm around his chest more securely at that admission.

"I don't want that. But...Billy...what happens...if...if...you die. Again. For real." Her voice was shaky as she nestled her face into Billy's side, squeezing her eyes shut against the tears threatening to overwhelm her. 

Billy's breath left his lungs in a harsh whoosh as the full impact of that idea made his heart skip a beat. He hadn't even considered the possibility. Mainly because if he did, he would never do half the shit he did. 

"I wish I had a good answer love but, I don't." Hearing her sniffle he turned on his side, cupping her chin in his hand as he tilted her face up so she would look at him and know how desperately he meant the next few words, 

"I just, I have a feeling in my gut that I won't die though. The only reason I made it through half of these missions is because of the people around me and...you." Her eyes widened at this admission, 

"Yes, love. You. The very idea of you when I was off doing things that James Bond could only dream of," she snorted as Billy grasped one of her hands in his own, "is what made me more convinced than ever that I needed to get back to you in one piece. And if you join the team? Love, you will be the only thing that's going through my head when we're on a job together. The promise of being able to come home to you at the end of the day, to have you patch me up, to give me endless shit. I wouldn't want to miss any more of it than I already have. So please, believe me when I tell you, if you join this team? I will never, ever leave you again. I promise, (Y/N)." 

Raising her eyes to meet his blue ones, she felt her heart squeeze when she saw the tears streaming freely down his face. He had laid his heart bare for her and the love she felt for him in that moment made her glow with a warmth she hadn’t felt, well, since the last time they had been in a bed together. But part of her was still hesitant. She wanted to believe him but she couldn’t go through what she had already been through again. 

Billy knew that she was doing her best to figure out if he truly meant it. Sensing her hesitation, he placed the hand he had been gripping over his heart, "Do you feel that?” She nodded, feeling grounded as his heart beat beneath her palm, “Every beat is for you. For you and you alone, love. You bring me into the light and make me feel as if I deserve to be there. Please, (Y/N), do what you think is right but just know, that I want you, and only you, for the rest of my life." 

Crying freely, she nodded frantically as she curled herself into Billy's chest. Stroking her back, he let her cry as much as she needed to.  After a while, she pulled back, mumbling an apology for getting snot on his shirt as he laughed. Lifting her head up she realized she was right in line with Billy's lips. They were so perfect, reaching a hesitant finger out, she traced them. Feeling her heart beat harder when Billy’s breath hitched at the movement. 

Lowering her finger, she snuggled closer to Billy as she reached her lips up to press them against his own softly, tentatively, like she was asking a question more than providing an answer. 

Billy sighed as he brought a hand up to cup her face. Stroking the planes, he made sure to remember exactly how her lips felt as he wiped the last of her tears from her face. 

Deepening the kiss, she moaned softly into his mouth as he traced a line from her cheek, down her neck, down her side until his hand landed on her hip. Giving her a gentle nudge, she swung her leg over and straddled Billy as he adjusted himself underneath her. He looked up at her and was sure he had never seen a more beautiful sight. Clad in her black tank top and panties, no makeup, hair falling in her face, Billy's heart ached at the notion of being able to wake up to this sight every day of his life. 

Resting her hands gently on the broad expanse of his chest, she gave a small thrust forward, testing to see how hard he was. Gasping when she felt his full length twitch, he cocked an eyebrow at her, "You okay there, love?"

"Shut it." She mumbled as she leaned down to capture his lips with hers. 

"Make me" was his response as he kissed her back tenderly. Their movements were languid, the passion and tension that had gripped them last night burnt away only to leave the love, adoration and relief they both felt to be reunited with each other. Gently rubbing herself over his cock, he reached a hand down to nudge his pants out of the way. 

When his cock sprang free, she reached a hand down into her panties, running two fingers over her own slick, lifting her hand up to lick the juices off her fingers as Billy stared at her, slack-jawed.

Giggling, she moved her underwear to the side as she shifted her hips, positioning herself over his length then slowly lowering herself until he was fully sheathed inside of her. 

She gasped as his hands came up to caress the bruises he had left on her hips. His touches were feather light as she let herself adjust to the girth of Billy's cock. Both of them were making a conscious effort to not rush this time. They wanted to relish the feel of each others bodies. 

They both treated their bodies as dispensable when they were on a job, but with each other they gave into the feeling of being admired, of being adored, of being touched delicately and being delicate in return. 

As (Y/N) let herself enjoy how full she felt with Billy inside of her, Billy rubbed his thumbs over her hips, urging his own hips to stay still. He didn't want to rush this. He didn't want to rush her. He wanted to do this right. He wanted to make sure that she felt comfortable, that she could feel how much he loved and cared about her through his actions. 

In the same vein, (Y/N) wanted to treat Billy with softness. To show that she trusted him, that she wanted to be with him always and would trust him with her life. That he deserved to be cherished. Slowly, she started rocking her hips back and forth, finding a soothing rhythm as her fingers fluttered down to rest on Billy's stomach. 

Billy's hands caressed her thighs, brushing slow patterns, the roughness of his palms on her skin causing goosebumps to rise up as she started pumping her hips a little faster. Below her, Billy was making the most obscene noises she'd ever heard. Moans, whines and gasps, the whole time desperately searching for eye contact so he could watch her reaction to every movement of his body underneath hers. 

Leaning down to kiss him, he grasped her shoulders and flipped them so he was on top of her, using his forearms to prop himself up, staring down at her, he smiled, "You're the most beautiful woman in the world." Blushing furiously, she rolled her eyes so she wouldn't have to make eye contact knowing that if she did, her heart would explode with how much love she had for him. 

Leaning his head down, he nuzzled into the crook of her neck, inhaling the smell of her skin, the sweetness of her perfume, the slight tang of salt and something that was so unmistakably (Y/N). Pressing his lips into the curve where her neck sloped down to meet her shoulder, he heard her sigh and continued to nudge his hips forward. 

When her moans grew louder, he let out a small growl that made her clench around his length. Thrusting her hips up, she whined needily in the back of her throat. Smirking, Billy started pumping his hips faster into her. Feeling the pit in her stomach grow hotter, she ran her fingers over his head, feeling the pricks of his stubble rub against her palms. As he pulled back to stare into her eyes, she brushed the errant strands that had fallen in front of his eyes. She wanted to drown in their blueness. 

Continuing to thrust into her, Billy felt his orgasm building as he kept eye contact with her. Everything was quiet except for their breath. The sighs, the hitches, all of it was much hotter to Billy than any dirty talk could be. 

Feeling her heart beat start to speed up, she knew she was getting close. Biting her lip, she peered at Billy through her eyelashes, "Billy...I'm going to cum." 

Leaning down, she could feel the smile that was playing on his lips as he whispered in her ear, "Then cum for me, my love." With those words, the pit in her stomach expanded and swallowed her whole. Squeezing her eyes shut, she came with a sharp inhale and slow exhale as her hips rose up to meet Billy's as he pumped into her through her orgasm. Feeling her walls clench around him, watching her come undone below him, pushed him right over the edge. As the last vestiges of her orgasm left her, she felt Billy's hips pumping against her sloppily until with a final grunt, she felt him fill her up with his cum. 

Panting, they looked into each others eyes and she giggled as he smiled at her, looking a little dazed. Carefully pulling out of her, he cleaned them up. After pulling his sweatpants back up, he laid down on the bed, pulling her to his chest. 

Nuzzling her face into Billy she sighed. Feeling her body loosen and relax, Billy started to plant kisses all over the top of her head, moving down to pepper her cheeks with kisses, she giggled and squirmed away from him. Chuckling, he placed one last kiss to the tip of her nose, “C’mere love. We’ve been apart too long to have you so far away from me.” 

“Billy, I’m like an inch away from you.” 

“And that’s still too far.” he whined as he pulled her flush against him. Giggling, she flung her arm and leg over Billy’s form, attaching herself even closer to him, “Is this close enough?” 

“Not really but, it’ll have to do.” he mumbled as his arms wound around her, hugging her tightly into him. 

As they laid there, their breath evened out to match each other. And several hours later, when One was checking the surveillance cameras, that was how he found them. Entwined in each other, breathing in and out in synch, looking for all the world like pieces of a puzzle that had finally come together to create a whole picture. 

~One Month Later~

"Are you fucking kidding me?" 

"No, of course I'm not. You gotta get out of here and this is the best way to do it. C'mon." 

"Eight-" hearing her code name come out of Billy's mouth always made a shiver run down her spine. One time, he had growled it when they were having sex and the orgasm that’d ripped through her when it happened caused her to see God.

She had been lovely. 

"Four. I believe in you." Billy pulled up short as he heard those four words crackle through his earpiece. Then, 

"You two need to cut the foreplay and figure out a legitimate way of getting the fuck out of this building before it blows." 

"Hey, One? Why do you need to cockblock us at every opportunity?" (Y/N) laughed.

"Shut it Eight or I'm going to let you explode in this building." 

"You would miss my witty banter though. No one else can keep up with you like I can."

"Correction, no one wants to keep up with him like you do." Was Five's dry reply as she prepped the medical gear sitting in the getaway car. Shrugging, (Y/N) couldn't find fault with that statement. With a final ding, the files finished uploaded to the flash drive. Pulling it out, she gingerly stepped over the four guards that had rushed to greet her. 

Slipping into the hallway and gently closing the door behind her, she rushed down the hallway, looking first right, then left to see if Billy was there. She heard a thud to her right and drew her gun as she turned to aim it at whoever was trying to sneak up on her. 

"Gotta say, I'm afraid but also a little turned on." 

It was Billy at the end of her barrel, holding his arms high. 

Holstering her gun she rolled her eyes, "When aren't you feeling like that?" 

"Good point, it's been my constant state since you joined the team."

Laughing, she grabbed his hand and started running down the hall of the home of the mobster they’d been infiltrating. He’d been a kingpin in one of the biggest sex trafficking rings in the world. But they had busted him, and it, wide open. (Y/N) had just leaked all of his documents to the FBI and to all major news sites, while downloading a copy for herself. The rest of the team had been making sure she had clear access to the computer and had been extracted awhile ago, it was just her and Billy left.  

As they raced down the hallway, they felt a rumble, then, 

BOOM. 

An explosion rocked the building, bringing them up short, as they looked at where the staircase used to be. 

"Well, fuck." 

Feeling something tugging her arm, (Y/N) looked away from the inferno to Billy tugging her towards the window, "Trust me?" 

"Always." 

Smiling back at her, he gripped her hand tighter as they both took off for the window. As a second explosion racked the building, the glass erupted as they launched themselves through the window, body's rolled tight as they aimed for the bunting on the building across from them. 

~~~

"FUCK does that hurt. Jesus Christ." 

"You do this every time I have to patch you up. Why aren't you used to this? Better question, why do I still patch you up?"

"Because it's how we fell in love in the first place and you love taking care of me."

"Shut up" was her mumbled reply. Billy smiled smugly as he snuggled deeper into the chair he was seated in.

After they had landed on the bunting, rolling and thumping onto the street, they’d pushed themselves up and leaped into the getaway car as Two peeled out and away from the smoking wreckage. 

They hadn't even noticed the scraps and cuts they’d acquired until the adrenaline had flowed out of their system and Five was yelling at them, telling them what fools they were and how dumb could they be. 

Laughing, Billy drank in (Y/N)'s bright eyes, her mouth stretched into a smile as she hurled insults back at One and flirted shamelessly with Seven. He had slipped a hand onto her thigh with the first wink she’d aimed at Seven. Ignoring the weight of his hand on her thigh, she continued their banter. With every remark, wink or playful nudge, he moved his hand up her thigh until finally, 

"Your hand is basically on her pussy can you two please get a room." Three groaned. 

Two smacked him as (Y/N) blushed furiously, batting Billy's hand off her leg as Billy laughed, flicking his tongue over his lips. 

Getting back to HQ, they tumbled out of the van. Voices overlapping and mixing with each other as they stumbled back to safety, everyone ready for a well deserved rest. (Y/N) was listening to Five explain the latest state of the art medical equipment they’d gotten when she felt the roughness of Billy's palm engulf her hand. Smiling, she squeezed his hand, feeling his palm press harder into her own and giving her butterflies all over again. 

"That's even grosser than earlier." Seven snorted at One's comment but felt a tug in his heart at how easily they had slotted themselves back together. 

~

They had emerged from the room they’d been in a few hours later, only to be met by whooping, pats on the back, congratulations being passed around and One loudly declaring how impressed he was with how they "banged it out." 

Rolling her eyes she’d put her hands up, "Listen. Before this goes any further I just want to let you guys know what my decision is."

Billy's head had snapped up at that comment. Eyes widening he felt his stomach drop, she’d never specifically said what she had decided on. Feeling unsteady, he braced his hands on the back of a chair, sure he was going to snap it with his grip. 

The air in the room became thick with anticipation. Everyone stilled to hear what her final verdict would be. 

"I'm in. All in."

Her words were meant for everyone but her gaze stayed glued on Billy. The smile that broke across his face was enough to make her smile as his lips connected to hers, the rest of the room breaking into cheers and whoops and then disgusted groans as Billy deepened the kiss. 

~

Since then, she had fit into the dynamic of the team like she’d always been a part of it. This had been their first official mission with her on board and they were all pleased with how it went. One even offered her a compliment on her competency during the debriefing. 

(Alright, so it was a backhanded compliment but that was as good as it was going to get with One.) 

Now, she and Billy were back at their shared airplane husk at HQ. Billy's favorite part of their place was the cross-stitch she had done that said "Husk Sweet Husk" with an airplane underneath. It warmed his heart every time he saw it. 

Billy was in a chair as (Y/N) sat next to him on the same stool she had perched on the first time he arrived at her apartment. Five had taken care of the larger cuts but she still liked to patch him up whenever she could. It made her feel closer to him and it allowed them to come down from missions together. 

"Would you stop squirming? I swear, you're worse than a toddler."

"I'm just trying to keep your skills sharp, love."

"You're about to meet the sharp end of my knife if you don't stop fucking moving."

"And there's that sharp tongue I fell in love with."

"Oh shut up." She smirked as a blush climbed up her cheeks, causing Billy to lean forward and pepper them with kisses as she threw cotton balls at him.

"I give up! You're impossible and on your own to patch yourself up."

"C'mon love, don't be a baby." He snickered as he grabbed her hand to pull her into his lap.

Tucking her head under his chin she pouted, "You know that always works on me, that's not fair."

"Who ever said anything in this relationship is fair?" He tickled her sides lightly until he heard a giggle leave her mouth. Smiling he pressed a kiss to her head as she snuggled deeper into his chest. Winding his arms around her, he squeezed her close. Their breaths synching up as they watched the last of the sun dip below the horizon. 

Five minutes or an hour later, she wasn’t sure, she finally shifted with the intention of getting up when she heard Billy hiss. 

Looking up at him with confusion, she furrowed her brows, "What?"

"You can't do that, love"

"Why not?" Shifting again she felt something poke her and let out a gasp, "Is that-?"

"It's definitely not my gun so yes. I am very happy to see you." 

Laughing she unfolded herself from his arms, "Okay, sorry. I won't do that unless we're spooning and then I'll just 'accidentally' wriggle my butt around until you get hard again."

"It won't take long." The husky quality of Billy's voice caused her head to snap up. His eyes were hooded, boring into her own. The air between them thick with lust.

It had been like this ever since they’d been back together. Everything was a sexual innuendo or an excuse to touch each other. Seven thought it was because of how sexually frustrated Billy was after not getting laid for so long but they both knew it was because they needed the reminder. 

Every caress, touch, kiss and sigh against each other's skin was a reminder that this was real, they were with each other. Every time Billy would grab her hand under the table during a meeting a jolt of electricity shot through her. 

And every time (Y/N) brushed up against Billy or laid a hand on his back to move past him, his cheeks would flush, remembering that she was close enough to touch and he could touch her any time he wanted. 

Neither of them took for granted the simplest things anymore. Passing touches, kisses on the cheek, hugging, holding hands, it all signified something bigger for them. That they could reach out and touch each other whenever they could. Every morning that they woke up, entwined in each others arms was another day that was going to be good, because they had woken up where they belonged. 

(Y/N) broke their gaze first, cheeks burning as she shuffled back and forth, "Umm, Mark texted me by the way. He, Mary and Jean are going to FaceTime with us later so we better not get too heated." 

"Why does your brother cockblock me at every possible time?" 

"Because I'm his sister, it's practically his job."

It’d been tricky to navigate the after-math of the discovery of Billy's demise. She knew that no one knew if she was dead or alive but after negotiating with One, she talked him into taking Mark and Jean onto the team. Which hit another snag when they found out that Mark and Mary had started dating. 

One had thrown his hands up when this knowledge came to his attention and cursed the day he brought this, "cluster fuck of a circus" into his group. Begrudgingly he had allowed Billy's mom, sister, Mark and Jean to come to HQ. As soon as they stepped foot in the plane, he had put the fear of God into them about this job, the dangers and how it was of mortal importance they keep their "fucking mouths shut." At which point, he had gone to the door, flung it open and walked out, "Oh and by the way, here's the problem that started this whole mess." he called over his shoulder as Billy walked into the room, sheepishly holding his hand up in a meek wave. 

(Y/N) had let him have that moment alone. She figured that would muddy the waters and besides, everyone in there already knew she was alive and okay. They deserved to have time with just Billy. To process, to understand. It had killed her to wait for them to emerge from the room but it had been worth it when she saw Billy and his mother emerge from the room, their eyes red rimmed from crying, arms around each other. 

Mark and Jean worked remotely most of the time. One would call them in for missions occasionally but they stuck to ground work and passed information off to One when need be. 

Mary and Billy's mom kept quiet, still letting everyone believe that Billy was dead but buoyed by the fact that they could FaceTime him whenever they wanted. (Y/N) also knew that One sent updates to Billy's mom whenever he could and paid for her to come out to visit Billy at HQ when they were between missions. It warmed her heart and made his snarky comments easier to put up with. 

Sighing, Billy hauled himself out of the chair, ambling towards the bathroom, "Well, come on then, better make the shower sex quick." He clamped his hands down around her waist as he nudged them towards the bathroom as her laugh rang out, bouncing over the sand dunes. 

~~~

"FUCK. BILLY!" 

With a final moan, Billy came inside (Y/N), both of them breathing heavily as they came down from their highs. After cleaning up, Billy collapsed into the bed, unfortunately landing right on top of her.

"OOF. Billy, c'mon." Shoving weakly at his form she knew it was a lost cause as he nuzzled his face into the crook of her neck.

"S'comfortable. You should just try to be less comfortable to lay on top of." 

"How would that even work?" 

"Get rid of your boobs."

Gasping, her hands flew up to her chest, "You know these are the money makers!"

"Of course I know that, love. Seven and Three know it as well."

Smacking his shoulder they both chuckled. As their breathing steadied, Billy rolled off her, bringing her into his chest where they snuggled deeper into the blanket they shared. Just as their eyes were closing,

BANG BANG BANG

"C'mon you two. Quit fucking for two seconds, One has a new mission for us."

Groaning, she buried her face into Billy's chest, "Tell One he can go fuck himself."

"You can yourself, darling. In about two seconds."

Dragging her body from the warm nest they had made, she stepped into the first pair of sweatpants she found on the ground, "Remind me again why I agreed to do this stupid job?"

Feeling Billy's hands on her shoulders, she twisted around only to be met with a deep lingering kiss from him, "Because I love you. And I can't do this life, or any life, without you being right next to me."

Pressing her forehead against his she smiled, inhaling deeply, "I love you."

"I love you, too. Also I'm so going to beat you to the control room."

Wha-?" her sentence was cut off as Billy raced from their husk, sprinting across the sand as best he could. An indignant snort left her as she took off after him, their laughter bouncing over the sand. Billy glanced back at her and didn’t know which was brighter, the full moon hanging above them or the warmth that radiated from (Y/N)’s laughing eyes as she raced to follow him to the ends of the world. Reaching a hand out, she grabbed his own as he tugged her forward into their next adventure. 

~~~

Tag List: @itsabenthing @vroboat @mrhoemazzello @gwendolyns-stacy @alliwantfromyouistomakelovetome @desperatelytryingtosavemyself​ @jonesyaddiction​ @xtrashmammalstefx​ @radiob-l-a-hblah​ @fairestkillerqueenofall @acciodallas​ @peter-sue-the-management​

[daughterofelros]

Roswell Witcher AU

This one is in thanks to all the folks on discord who helped me figure out that I should do a Witcher AU for Day 2 of Alex Manes week. Here’s the first part!

“Witcher.”

The voice belongs to a woman. Low, insistent, and neither the tone of a woman seeking to refill his mug of ale nor one offering her bed for the night in exchange for his coin and a story she can tell for years to come. He glances up slowly.

She’s an uncommonly beautiful woman- wearing an uncommonly fine black gown laced with coppery-gold embroidery, dark hair that falls in loose curls around her face, and a black cloak with a hood that frames that face in shadow even as it spills to skim the worn pine floorboards of the inn. Sorceress, then. And one who recognizes what he is when he’s doing his best to go unnoticed.

He says nothing, waits for her to talk. Tries not to flash his eyes. His swords aren’t visible at the moment, tucked away as they are. His medallion lies beneath his shirt. He looks younger than many of his rare brethren, and he’d taken pains to conceal his identity before entering this village. They’re prone to both suspicion and superstition around these parts, and he’d wanted to avoid anything that got between himself, a hot meal, and a warm bed.

His last job had paid well enough to afford the room, but not entirely enough to feel like fair compensation for the wounds his body had yet to finish healing. A few nights of inns and comfort are going to go a long way toward being back in fighting form. As plans go, it’s a perfectly fine one that gets a good deal harder if the innkeeper or the other patrons here perceive him as anything more than a weary traveler on the road. When people get curious, they ask questions and don’t always like the answers.  And if she speaks any louder or stand here much longer, curiosity will be unavoidable.

“I’m Maria of Konik,” she introduces herself, “and I have a message of the utmost importance for you.”

He gestures for her to sit, and she does with grace and elegance of movement not often seen in roadside inns of this size or reputation.

“What is this message?” he asks tersely.

“Less a message in the strictest sense.” She hesitates.  “I…have visions, sometimes. See the future.”

“A useful skill.”

“Sometimes,” she allows. “Other times confounding or infuriating. But this time clearer than most, at least. Your friend is in danger.”

“What friend?” he guards his expression with long practice.

“I see enough of the future to know we will become good friends over our immortal lives, Alexander of Brud, and one of the few you have. But as this is our first meeting, I know you bear little confusion as to who I could mean. The bard is in peril.”

This time, it takes effort not to allow his eyes to widen or his lips to move. But his heart still hammers out a few extra beats.

“Where is he?”

“Far from here,” she says swiftly. “Weeks of travel, by conventional means. But the danger he faces is far more urgent than that. He has become the target of a spell that unleashes a Hodag upon its victim. It will not cease to attack until it has torn its intended prey limb from limb, and mortal men are no match for its teeth and claws and vicious hunger. I’ve protected him as well as I am able with a spell around the hunting lodge where he is sheltering. But the spell has limits, and loses its potency during a full moon. Moonrise tomorrow is when the Hodag will come for him. Unless it can be stopped. And only witchers have ever succeeded in killing them before.” Her words come out in a rush, and he has a sudden understanding of the terrible urgency of the situation.

“Why even tell me this, if we are weeks of riding away from where he is? What purpose does that serve?” He bites out the words, irritation rising to mask his concern.

“I can bring us there, with magic,” Maria of Konik replies, looking pleased with herself. Alexander is less than convinced.

“That’s complicated spellwork,” he observes. “Taxing. Not the sort of thing most magic-users are willing to perform. What is he to you that you are willing to bear on that cost?”

“Part of every best future I have glimpsed. So long as he survives past tomorrow. So long as you come to his aid.”

“And what of the other futures?” he inquires.

She meets his gaze, dark eyes open and expressive as she slowly shakes her head. Well then.

“I don’t suppose there’s compensation for this task?” he says, reaching for his pack. He imagines that’s indication enough he plans to go with her.

She stands, and he does as well. “We both know you don’t require it, in this case,” she says, brushing her fingertips against the worn tabletop and turning toward the door to the inn-yard.

He has no response to that, so he follows her.

The portal that she opens takes them to a hunting lodge tucked into the edge of an old forest. A small yard that had been cleared a hundred years or more ago has begun to cede itself back to the wood, and the boxy stone structure with its slate roof sits at the center of the yard. It’s taller than it is wide, though that says little. Sturdily built, despite its age, it’s the sort of structure that it seems ludicrous to imagine the nobility devoting their efforts and purses to creating as a fortification like this against bunnies and deer, until one realizes the level of fortification is actually built with the local folk who might want to hunt the bunnies and deer without the King’s permission in mind.

Still, stone walls should help to keep the Hodag from making an easy snack of the bard, so he doesn’t disapprove.

Looking about, he can sense the slight disturbance of the air close to the trees. He narrows his eyes, glad for his good vision in the darkness.

“That’s the boundary of the spell,” Maria supplies. “It will keep anything from physically crossing in as long as it hold, but if anyone steps across it from within its bounds, it will start to dissolve. That’s I opened the portal here, so close to the lodge itself.

“He’s in there already?” Alexander asks.

Maria nods, and leads him to the heavy-timbered door.

The common room is empty, the fire banked in the hearth. But the glow of candle light spills down the stairs, and it’s those he climbs on near-silent feet. And there, standing in the center of the room, drawn from his seat by the sounds from below, is the bard, curls and grin the same as he remembered.

“Guerin,” he breathes, and then his arms are full of bard, forcing him to plant his feet as he returns the embrace. He doesn’t allow himself to cling to the other man, though the bard clearly has no such reservations. But Guerin’s hair is soft under his fingertips, the solid reality of his body a warm reassurance. Alexander allows himself to breathe in his scent

“You’re here.” Guerin marvels, pulling back and regarding him at arms length with astonishment. “How did you know…”

“Your sorceress friend found me, explained that you’d landed yourself in hot water again. Which jealous husband did you enrage this time?”

Guerin grimaces for the briefest moment, but covers it skillfully with a grin.

“That’s not fair, Alex,” he rejoins lightly. “You know sometimes its the jealous wives who send the hounds after me. Or sometimes both parties together if I’ve overstayed my welcome.” He smiles as he says it, but the smile doesn’t quite ease the sense of sadness or exhaustion from his eyes.

He starts to launch into a tale of woe, where he himself will be portrayed as both the put-upon martyr and the daring hero all at once, but Maria interrupts.

“Having heard this bit before, I’ll leave you to it,” she says dryly. “I know a spell that can help to slow a creature, and I believe I can use it to your advantage against the Hodag tomorrow night. But it requires things I don’t have access to here. I need to fetch them, and it will take time. I’ll return by mid-morning. Perhaps by then, you’ll have had a chance to bathe, Witcher. You stink of monster blood.”

He likes her. Possibly because she irritates him even as she makes his lips twitch toward a smile, though his tone remains measured.

“In all fairness, I’m not sure the creature had any blood. It was more of a goo.”

“Were there tentacles? I hate the tentacles, but they’re very dramatic when they have tentacles,” Guerin observes. Maria ignores him, her eyes widening slightly in surprise, and then the barest expression of mirth.

“What do you know- a Witcher who has wit. Bathe, and you might actually be tolerable company.” She tosses her head and trails down the stairs. The door closes behind her with a loud scrape and a sudden air of silence.

“She means it, you know,” Guerin eventually says. “There’s a bath tub here- fit for a king. She’ll have filled it by magic just now. Hot as if it has just been heated on the hearth and lugged up here.

“I could use it,” Alexander admits. “I washed the worst of it away in a stream yesterday, after I had been paid, but it was no finely heated bath. And tonight, she dragged me from my inn after I had eaten, but before I had called for a wash basin or had a chance to rest.”

“Is Maria is right, there’s no real danger tonight. That will come on tomorrow’s moon. So…you have time. I can…help you with your armor, if you desire.

Alex nods, not trusting himself to speak.

True to Michael’s claim, there is indeed  a wash tub- deep and luxurious- set behind a screen, already draped with linen and filled with water hot enough that he can see the steam curling into the air.

He loosens the straps and laces of his armor, lets Guerin ease the pieces of it from his body. It’s a ritual they’ve performed many times before, when they used to travel together. Before… Just, before.

He keeps his breathing even, every time Guerin’s deft fingers brush his arm, or his torso, whisking away another piece of the armor he wears like a second skin. But it takes effort.

Guerin turns away when he goes to pull his shirt over his head, perusing the bath offerings on the table against the wall, and keeping up a stream of even chatter that belies the skill he has in caring for people behind the glib, attractive facade.

“Chamomile, I think, for soothing and relaxation. And you’re favoring your right arm a bit, which means it’s paining you, so I think we should add calendula as well. Not Lavender, I think, but perhaps the geranium oil, for the tension in the sore muscles?” he adds the selections to the bath water, the steam making the scents dance across the room. Alex takes the time to pour water in the wash basin and scrub the worst of the filth of the road from his arms and chest, not wanting to foul the bathwater that Guerin has so thoughtfully prepared with scent and soothing herbs.

The delay means that by the time he reaches for the buttons that fasten his trousers, Guerin is finished preparing the bath. They meet each other’s gaze for a moment before Guerin makes to turn away.

“I should give you your privacy,” he says.

“You can stay, Guerin,” he says without particular forethought. “It’s nothing you haven’t seen before.”

He regrets the words almost immediately. It doesn’t do to remind Guerin of what has transpired between them, the gulf that has yawned between them ever since. It doesn’t do to remind himself. Guerin’s jaw clenches.

“You have wounds that haven’t healed yet. I have some of my salve in my pack. I’ll go and get it.” He ducks around the screen.

Uncertain if he truly intends to come back, or if the thoughtless words have sent him running, Alexander strips off the rest of his clothing and steps into the bath, letting the heat soak into his weary muscles, the steam rise into his nostrils. He rests his head against the high edge of the bathing tub, lets himself enjoy the sensation of the deep water and the soothing scents, the last of the dirt dissolving from his skin.

Long minutes pass and then suddenly Guerin appears again, a small carved pot in his hand, and a wary expression in his eyes.

“I wasn’t convinced you were coming back,” Alex admits. “I…wouldn’t have faulted you.”

“Between the two of us,” Guerin observes, just a hint of a bite to his tone, “I’m not the one with the tendency toward leaving.”

[littlesliceofmarvel]

Seven Ways

Request/Synopsis: The seven ways Bucky shows/tells you he loves you without saying the actual words.

Warnings: Swearing, mentions of violence and blood

Pairings: Bucky x Reader

A/N: so, i’m back in college so I’ll try to continue being as active as I can! As always, gif isn’t mine and my requests are always open!!

also, words can’t express how STUPID this whole spiderman/sony/disney situation. it just don’t make sense, folks. i am confused. endgame didn’t end the way it did for this to happen @ Disney.

-

The cool winter air brushed up against Y/N’s cheek as she rushed towards the direction of the Avengers tower, wrapping her arms around herself to get as warm as possible in the thin jacket she threw on before rushing out in the morning.

Stark’s coffee machine was broken, and the team had been complaining about sleepiness and being grumpy to the point where Y/N had volunteered herself  to go out and get coffee for everyone in the middle of one of New York City’s biggest blizzards of the year.

“Thanks, guys,” she mumbled to herself, lips quivering slightly as she mentally made a note to not be on coffee duty next time.

She held the bag in one hand, careful to not spill the contents inside, and put the other hand in her pocket, shielding it from the numbness that the temperature was causing.

The entrance to the Avengers tower came into view, and if possible, Y/N walked even faster, ignoring the weird glares people were giving her because of her intense pace. Making sure to keep the bag steady, she opened the front door and sighed in relief when the warm air came in contact with her face. She made her way towards the elevators, no longer rushing as the freezing feeling was already leaving her fingertips.

As she made her way up, she unzipped her coat, letting the warm air replace the cold air that was trapped under her coat.

“The coffee has arrived!” Clint’s voice notified Y/N she was on her floor, his body rushing towards her to grab the bag from her hand, “Why are your hands so cold?”

“Gee, I don’t fucking know, Clint,” Y/N sassed, walking into the room and pointing out of the large windows, patience wearing thin, “Have you looked outside?”

“Right, of course,” Clint chuckled awkwardly, helping to pass the coffee around to the sleepy Avengers, who all grumbled and mumbled their gratitude for the caffeinated drink.

“You’re welcome, guys!” Y/N threw her body down on the couch, not appreciating the lack of thanks from the team, “I nearly freeze my ass off out there for your grumpy asses and no one even says anything.”

The team quickly started thanking her, Steve even being kind enough to give Y/N his coffee in hopes to help warm her up. She was about to respond, but her eyes caught sight of Bucky walking into the room, rubbing the sleep out of his eyes as he made his way over to the couch. Y/N grinned, scooting over so he could plop his body down next to hers.

“Mornin, Buck,” Steve nodded to his friend who just waved silently, dropping his body down on the couch next to his girlfriend. Y/N grinned at Bucky, scooting closer to him as his arm draped around her.

“You’re freezing, Y/N,” Bucky looked over at her, feeling the coldness of her skin.

“Yeah,” Y/N grumbled, “Everyone wanted coffee and I was sick of their complaining so I went and got some.”

Bucky rolled his eyes, turning to the team, “Seriously? You guys made her go out alone and get coffee? In this weather?” He got up off the couch and walked over to the cupboard in the corner of the room and grabbed a knitted blanket, bringing it back to Y/N’s still slightly shivering body.

He wrapped it around her, “Here, let me warm you up.”

She cuddled into the blanket, letting Bucky’s warm arms wrap around her as she leaned into his touch, almost forgetting how cold she was. She was glad to have him looking out for her all the time, and she wouldn’t change it for the world.

“Stark, you better fix that damn coffee machine.”

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

Saturday mornings in the compound often spent with breakfast, training, and then a briefing on what was going on in the world - credit goes to director Fury for that. This day was no different.

Tony made the team breakfast (cough cough, thanks to Friday who really did all the work) and the satisfied heroes made their way down to the training gym, where Thor was already launching himself at punching bags.

“Ah, seems that I am the most prepared - I was here the earliest,” Thor grinned as the team walked in, all still slightly sleepy, but ready for a good training session. They ignored him and split up into their usual teams, Y/N running off with Natasha to find a good corner and Bucky finding himself facing Steve, both ready to fight.

“You gonna go easy on me?” Natasha smirked, teasing Y/N who was tying her hair out of her face.

“Nuh uh, Romanoff,” she grinned, “Get prepared to have your ass handed to you. For once.”

The red-haired assassin grinned, arming herself by holding her fists in front of her face as Y/N charged towards her, determination written on her features. Natasha ducked the first punch, taking that as an opportunity to deliver a harsh blow to Y/N’s stomach, making her groan and lean over.

“Shit, Nat, I just ate,” Y/N lifted herself back up, glaring at Natasha who let out a small chuckle. Y/N used Nat’s distraction as her advantage, throwing herself onto her. She wrapped her legs around Natasha’s torso, causing her to slightly lose her balance as Y/N launched herself backwards, Natasha falling face first onto the floor.

“Ha, that’s what you get for - oomph,” Y/N began to celebrate her victory but was quickly cut off by Nat sticking out her leg, causing Y/N’s body to land on the mat with a thump.

Immediately, pain coursed through her body, “Shit. That hurt, Nat.” Y/N placed her hand over her ribs, leaning her head back as the throbbing pain started spreading throughout her chest. From the other side of the room, Bucky rushed over, panicking slightly at the pained expression on his girlfriend’s face.

“Are you okay, Y/N?” He asked, leaning down next to her as Nat stood up, apologizing quietly.

“Peachy,” Y/N groaned, lifting her shirt to reveal a dark bruise already forming on her ribs, “Nat! You fucking broke my rib.”

By now, the entire team had noticed the commotion, and Tony was already calling the medical lab to announce Y/N was going to be on her way. Y/N protested, saying she didn’t need medical attention, but the entire team argued with her until they were ready to knock her out and bring her there themselves.

“Here, let’s help her up,” Steve leaned down and wrapped an arm around her torso, causing her to groan. Bucky did the same, and the two of them managed to lift her up without causing her too much pain.

The walk to the medical lab was long and every time she moved her legs, Y/N would feel another jolt of pain make its way throughout her entire body. As she laid down on the bed in front of the medical staff, fear kicked in and she was ready to bolt out of the room, not liking the sight of the needles and pointy equipment in the room. She had always had a fear of doctors, hating everything to do with them, but this time she begrudgingly let herself relax into the chair. Running away would do her no good, she couldn’t get far with a broken rib anyways.

Bucky could sense her fear, and he made his way over and sat down next to her, linking his fingers into hers, “Hey, it’s okay.”

Y/N let out a sarcastic laugh, “Easy for you to say. You don’t have to have anyone prodding around in your body to fix your stupid bones.”

Bucky chuckled, “No one is poking or prodding around anywhere. Stark’s tech can fix you in an instant. They’re probably only going to give you one shot, that’s it. To help ease the pain. You’ll be alright.”

Y/N threw her head back on the pillow as the doctor approached her, holding up a needle. She gave the doctor a nod and squeezed Bucky’s hand, shutting her eyes to prevent seeing the needle going through her skin.

“You’re okay,” he soothed her as the doctor gave her a shot of morphine to take away the burning sensation in her chest, “I won’t leave your side.” Y/N relaxed instantly, letting the sensation of Bucky’s fingers locked with hers be the main thing she was going to focus on.

Within an hour, her rib was much better and Y/N felt like a drama queen. One thing was for sure though, Natasha was going to have to watch her ass next training session.

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

The morning sunlight shone down on Bucky’s sleeping face, his stubble causing tiny little shadows to appear on his cheeks and chin. Y/N grinned up at him, taking in the sight of her gorgeous boyfriend in the golden light.

For two years, Bucky had been her lifeline, her ultimate source of comfort and happiness, and by God, she was the luckiest woman in the world to get to call him hers.

She couldn’t resist his good looks any longer, leaning up slightly to place a delicate kiss on his soft lips, pulling away immediately. She knew she had woken him up, and even if she wouldn’t admit it, it was partially her intention. Bucky’s eyes fluttered open slowly, looking over at Y/N with his piercing blue orbs. She grinned at him, leaning up and placing another small kiss on his lips, pulling away before he could get the chance to reciprocate.

“Mornin’ handsome,” she smiled at him, letting him wrap his arms around her and pull her into his chest.

“Mm, why’d you wake me?” He groaned into her hair, making her giggle.

“I did no such thing,” she pretended to defend herself, pulling away from him and looking back up into his eyes. He leaned his head down, placing his lips about half a centimetre away from hers before she placed her hand between them, stopping his movements.

“Brush your teeth first,” she teased, throwing herself away from his body and turning away from him on the bed. Bucky chuckled, wrapping his arms around her once again and pulling her flush to his chest, placing his lips on hers as she melted into the kiss.

After a good moment of passionate kissing, she pulled away from him and moved a strand of his hair out of the way, staring lovingly into his eyes.

“You’re beautiful,” he muttered, placing a light kiss against her forehead as her heart fluttered from his words. She hid her face in his chest, preventing him from seeing the blush that was forming on her cheeks.

“Shut up, Bucky,” she spoke, her voice muffled. He chuckled, the vibrations from his chest adding to her butterflies as she pulled away to look at the man in front of her. The man who had captured her heart, her soul, and her future, and he felt the same way. He leaned down, capturing her lips in another passionate kiss as he rolled on top of her. Guess breakfast was going to be missed this morning.

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

“You don’t understand, Bucky,” Y/N groaned, pulling at her hair in frustration at the man in front of her, “I wasn’t being stupid, I was doing this to help. Clint would have died.”

Bucky’s eyes wandered down to the bullet wound hole in her stomach, which was tightly bandaged with patches of blood getting darker by the minute. He was furious, she had self-sacrificially thrown herself in front of a bullet to save Clint while on a mission, and luckily survived with no major internal damage.

“You don’t get it, Y/N,” Bucky leaned against the wall, trying to formulate his words so he didn’t come off as selfish, “You put your life below others, you don’t value yourself. You need to realize you’re important, you can’t just risk your life willy-nilly like that.”

Willy-nilly? Y/N stopped to look at him, both touched and enraged by his words. Her mind swirled with how the hell she was going to react, but the stubborn side of her decided to keep fighting and stand up for herself.

“And who are you to tell me what I should value, huh?” She crossed her arms, her breathing rapid, “Bucky, this is my life. I get to decide what to do with it. Besides, I survived, didn’t I? So, no reason to make a big deal, come on.”

Bucky sighed, making his way over to their shared bed and took a seat on the edge, breathing heavily to keep his mind calm, “Okay, yes, you did survive. But you’re lucky you did. You need to realize that you’re important, baby, I hate when you just throw yourself into the line of fire without weighing the outcome first.”

Y/N sat next to him gingerly, letting his hand rest gently on her thigh, “Are you saying Clint should have died instead? I saved him.”

“And I’m glad he’s alive,” Bucky spoke slowly, “But you need to realize it upsets me when you do this. Think twice next time, I don’t know.”

“Think twice? Bucky, you’re kidding, right?” Y/N stood up once more, waving her arms, “I’m an Avenger. It’s my fucking job to save people, you get that right? Because if you don’t, we’ve made a mistake being together.” She let the words slip before she could think them over, and regretted them immediately. She didn’t want to break up with Bucky - it was the last thing she could ever want. But her stubborn personality made her keep pushing his buttons and spill something she didn’t mean. Bucky sat up off the bed, anger coursing through his body and walked up to her.

She knew how Bucky was when he was mad, and it was very rare she was on the bad end of the stick, but when she was, she hated it. Bucky had spent years trying to control his anger but nothing could have prepared him for fighting with the love of his life, so when he did, he lost it easily. Through no fault of his own.

“Bucky, I didn’t-”

“Fine. If you’re not counting my feelings into this, we’re done.” Bucky stormed out of the room, leaving Y/N staring at an empty bed. Her mind was running at a thousand miles an hour, trying to think of something to say, but all she could do was turn and face the now-closed door. She knew she made a mistake in what she said, but part of her was pissed at Bucky for just walking out without letting her explain why she said what she did.

She debated going after him, but her body led her to the bed, where she threw herself down and hid her face in the pillow. She let out a low groan, trying not to cry. She’d let Bucky calm down a bit before going to see him - he didn’t listen much when he was angry.

In their two year relationship, they had gotten into their fair share of arguments - they weren’t exactly a normal couple, you could say that. Bucky used to be unstable, unsure of himself, but when Y/N entered his life, it was like everything just lit up. She was his ray of light and he finally felt like all of his struggling was fading away.

Y/N had practically fallen in love with Bucky at first sight. She was able to read people easily, and as soon as her eyes landed on him, she made it her mission to bring him the happiness she knew he deserved. And the two made each other happier than either of them thought they deserved, this was certain. They were in utterly, irrevocably enchanted by each other, and everyone saw it.

Fifteen minutes after Bucky had stormed out, Y/N heard a small knock on her door. She rushed up, already prepared to throw herself into Bucky’s arms and kiss him all over.

“Sam?” She questioned in almost disappointment once she opened the door. Sam stood there, arms crossed and an annoyed look on his face.

“What happened? He’s been moping about my room for about ten minutes not saying anything and it’s driving me crazy. I’m ready to shove my shoe so far up his ass he’s tasting rubber for a year,” Sam pushed past Y/N and made his way into her and Bucky’s room, throwing himself down on the bed and crossing his arms, waiting for an explanation.

“Well,” Y/N sighed, closing the door and making her way over to the bed, sitting down next to him, “It all started when I was penetrated by a bullet.”

“You had to make it weird.”

“Shut up, Sam, and let me tell my story,” Y/N slapped Sam’s arm, continuing her story, “He got mad I jumped in front of the bullet.”

“Okay, so?” Sam raised an eyebrow.

“So, I’m allowed to risk my life to save my team, or anyone for that matter. It’s my job. Bucky’s upset that I’m not thinking it through enough,” Y/N continued to explain the situation to Sam, who although looked slightly confused as to why this became such a big deal, seemed to be understanding.

“I mean, I guess I understand where he’s coming from,” Sam looked around the room before looking back to Y/N, “The guy’s paranoid all the time about what happens to you. He’s always worried. You don’t seem to consider that, weirdly enough, but if thing were the other way around I know you’d flip your shit if Bucky got shot to save someone.”

Y/N processed his words. Stupidly enough, in the heat of their fight, she hadn’t totally considered how she’d feel if it was the other way around.

“But I’d understand, it’s his job,” she answered.

“He understands too, doesn’t mean he likes it.”

Y/N leaned back and sighed, realizing how stupid she was being, “You’re right. Shit, you’re right.”

“It’s been known to happen,” Sam smirked, standing up off the bed as Y/N did the same, ready to rush off and rush out half-assed apologies at Bucky.

“Alright, is he still in your room?” Y/N opened the door, walking out of it before Sam could do so. He nodded and Y/N rushed off down the hall, ignoring Sam’s sarcastic comments about abandoning him. She approached his door and knocked softly, a quiet ‘Go away, Samantha’ coming from the other side.

“It’s not Sam,” Y/N replied, sighing in relief at the sound of Bucky’s voice.

No answer came from the other side, but the door slowly creaked open and Bucky stood there, slightly crouched. Y/N pushed the door open more and forced herself into Bucky’s arms, enveloping him in a hug which clearly caught him off guard as he stumbled back slightly, using her weight to help hold him up.

“I’m so sorry, Bucky, I was being so stupid,” Y/N muttered into his hair, not letting him go. He slowly wrapped his arms around her, letting himself melt into the embrace

“I won’t deny that, but it’s okay,” Bucky chuckled, his head dropping slightly to rest against her forehead. He was glad she had lightened up about the situation.

“Can we not be broken up? I won’t be as dumb, I promise,” Y/N tried to bring a little bit of humour, pulling away from the hug and gazing up into Bucky’s eyes.

“We could never really be broken up,” Bucky grinned, placing a light kiss against her forehead, “You’re my one.”

Y/N sighed in relief once again, melting into his touch. It had only been twenty minutes, barely, and she had missed his warmth and his smile. Shows how clingy true love can make you.

“And you’re my one,” Y/N replied, placing her lips softly on his.

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

Y/N was no stranger to sleepless nights. From Bucky’s nightmares to her own, she constantly had her mind wide awake and her eyes forcing themselves shut from exhaustion. They had tried everything possible to give him a good night’s sleep. Wanda had gone through his head, they made him all different kinds of teas, even tried giving him medication for insomnia, but nothing worked. Bucky was plagued with nightmares and sleep terrors that woke up nearly everyone on the floor on a really bad night.

Tonight was no different.

Bucky started shaking in his sleep, the small beads of sweat on his forehead were a clear sign of what he was going through. Y/N turned over calmly, ready to wake him up from another one of his horrific dreams.

She placed her hand on his chest, feeling his ragged breathing as he continued to toss and turn, his face contorting into an expression of distress and pain.

“Bucky, wake up,” Y/N whispered softly, leaning into him with her weight to prevent him from tossing about once again.

He didn’t stop, small groans in his throat letting her know that he was probably being tortured in his dream. She knew he dreamt of this often, that the pain Hydra put him through was probably going to haunt him for the rest of his life.

“Bucky, it’s okay,” Y/N said, a little louder this time as she pushed his shoulder down, causing him to jump awake, knocking her out of the way. He let out a long, shaky breath, shoving his face into his hands as he came to realize it was only a dream.

“Same dream?” Y/N whispered, placing a small, delicate kiss on his shoulder. He let out a deep sigh, taking his head out of his hands to look down at her.

“I’m so sick of it,” he mumbled, “I hate that they’re still happening.”

“I know, I hate that I can’t help you,” Y/N admitted, running her hands through his hair, which was slightly damp. She placed another light kiss on his shoulder as he started to lay back down, relief clear on his face. She laid down next to him, running her fingers soothingly up and down his arms. He shivered lightly under her touch, closing his eyes as he re-played the visions he just experienced in his mind.

“Was it the same thing as always?” Y/N muttered softly, looking up to face him.

“Yeah,” Bucky grumbled, opening his eyes once more to get rid of what he dreamt.

“I’m sorry,” Y/N lifted his hand, placing small kisses on his knuckles. She started running her other hand through his hair as his breathing started to slow down, returning to normal.

“Thank you - for helping me,” Bucky turned to plant a delicate kiss on her cheek.

“I don’t even do anything,” Y/N chuckled, joking slightly but there was sincerity behind her words. She was mad at herself, in a way, because she couldn’t help him. All she wanted in her life was to make sure Bucky was safe, happy, and relaxed. He had spent 70 years in the worst conditions possible and she wanted him to know that it was over, that it was another part of his life that he shouldn’t connect to himself.

“I’m so lucky to have you,” Bucky mumbled against her neck, leaving half-asleep kisses along her neck, making her giggle.

“No, I’m the lucky one,” YN grinned, Bucky’s hair falling all over her face as he continued placing kisses all over her face. It was little moments like this that helped their relationship blossom. They were so close, and the two of them wanted nothing more than to be with each other forever.

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

Tonight, Tony was hosting an important gala - sarcasm intended - to celebrate his anniversary with Pepper Potts. It was cute that he went all out to celebrate their love, but these events were dreaded by the Avengers. Parties weren’t exactly their thing, and even though they loved Tony to bits, they all agreed that his extra-ness was slightly unnecessary/

Y/N, Wanda and Natasha helped each other get ready as if they were in some sort of cliché chick flick, but it worked. In an hour, they were all ready to go. Y/N found herself wearing one of Natasha’s floor-length green gowns, one of Bucky’s favorite colours, and tied her hair back, knowing how warm it was going to be in there and not wanting to deal with sticky, sweaty hair on the back of her neck.

She walked into the Avengers tower with her girls by her side, the three of them laughing about a conversation they had in their cab and made their way up to the floor where Tony was hosting his event. They walked into the room and immediately went their separate ways. Natasha and Wanda went off to find their guys as Y/N made her way to Bucky, who was deep in a conversation with Steve and Sam.

“Guess who,” Y/N joked, placing her hands over Bucky’s eyes, and she could feel his body shake with laughter as he turned to face her.

“Holy - you look gorgeous,” he looked her up and down, making her blush slightly as he pulled her to him, placing a quick kiss on her lips.

“You’re looking pretty dapper too, my love,” Y/N teased him before turning to Steve and Sam who looked out of place, “Hey, guys. Lookin’ sharp.”

“You look great, Y/N,” Steve grinned at her, Sam agreeing with his comment.

“Well, I’m gonna get some drinks, any of you want anything?” Y/N looked between the three of them and the open bar that Tony put together last minute. The three of them shook their heads so she head on over, already preparing her order in her head before she got there.

“What can I get you?” The man behind the counter asked, taking out a small glass and waiting for her order.

“I’ll have a peach margarita,” Y/N remembered she promised Wanda she’d try her favorite drink. The man made it quickly and handed it back to her, the light orange drink looking incredibly delicious. She took a small sip and hummed in approval, mentally making a note to tell Wanda that she has good taste.

She turned around, prepared to make her way back, eyeing Bucky from across the room. She took one step away from the counter before a cold sensation made its way down her chest. She looked down, the deep red colour of wine making its way down the gorgeous dress Natasha lent to her.

“I - I am so sorry,” the girl panicked, looking at Y/N’s dress.

“It’s okay,” Y/N whispered, placing her drink down on the counter and running off to see Bucky. Damn, of course she would ruin the dress. She bumped in to people on the way but ignored their annoyed protests, needing to get the stain out as soon as possible.

“Hey, no drink - Oh, no,” Steve stopped talking when he saw the panicked look on Y/N’s face, “Natasha is going to kill you.”

“No shit, Steve,” Y/N snapped at him, “I gotta go change, don’t tell Nat!” Y/N rushed off out of the room and down to the living quarters where Tony had enough rooms to bunk everyone here when they needed it. Bucky followed her, trying to come up with ways to get wine out of the dress.

“This sucks,” Y/N grumbled, peeling the wet dress off of her body once she was in her room. Bucky was on his phone, trying to google how to get stains out as Y/N changed into whatever was in her drawers. To her luck, a warm pair of sweatpants and a tank top sat in the top drawer. Of course that’s all she would have.

“This is all I have,” Y/N pulled the clothes out and started to dress herself, facing away from Bucky as he continued to spit out ideas about cleaning the dress. Y/N knew Natasha was not one to get attached to things like dresses, but the guilt still bubbled inside of her at the thought of ruining one of her items. Once she was dressed, she flopped down on the bed next to Bucky, who was wearing one of his best suits.

“You look really good,” Y/N rolled over to face him, “I can’t go back there wearing this.”

“We don’t have to go back,” Bucky turned off his phone, turning his attention to his girlfriend. He was completely enamoured by her, and as much as he wanted to do this at the perfect time, he couldn’t wait any longer.

“Marry me,” He mumbled out, making her snap her head up and gaze into his eyes, her breath caught in her throat.

“What?”

“I’ve been thinking about this for a while,” he admitted, taking off his suit jacket, “I wanted to do this at the perfect time, but being here, just the two of us, it is perfect. I want you as my wife, I want this forever.”

“Bucky, oh my god- ”

“Let me do this,” Bucky chuckled, getting off the bed as he felt into his pocket, pulling out a small red velvet box, “Y/N Y/L/N, will you marry me?” He got down on one knee, smiling up at the woman in front of him.

Y/N’s heart practically jumped out of her chest as she looked at the man in front of her. He was everything she could ever want and more, and yet there was absolutely nothing she could have done to prepare for this moment.

“Holy sh - Yes, Bucky, yes, I’ll marry you,” she breathed out, nearly collapsing from how much her legs were shaking, even though she was still sitting on the edge of the bed. He let out a sigh of relief, standing up to pull her in for the most passionate kiss they’ve ever had. Every ounce of love and admiration was poured into it, and it was as if their souls connected on a whole new level. They pulled away after a good while and Bucky placed the ring on her finger as small tears of joy made their way down Y/N’s face.

“We’re engaged, can you believe it?” Bucky grinned, picking her up and spinning her around, his heart more full than he ever thought it could be.

“No, I can’t believe it,” Y/N breathed out once he put her down, “But I can’t wait to marry you, Sergeant James Buchanan Barnes.”

“And I can’t wait to marry you, my lovely Y/N.”

It was safe to say Natasha’s stained dress was forgotten as Bucky and Y/N got lost in each other for the rest of the night.

-

Nearly eight months after the engagement, Y/N was standing in front of a mirror in a long white down, Natasha and Wanda by her side dressed in rose gold bridesmaids gowns. It was the big day.

“I am about to pass out,” Y/N clutched the table in front of her, letting the bouquet she was holding rest on the counter top.

“You can do this,” Wanda chuckled, running her hand up and down Y/N’s back, the silk of her dress helping to cool her down. Y/N groaned, the nerves making her feel faint as she grabbed a pamphlet off the table and fanned herself.

“You have five minutes before walking down the aisle,” Natasha pat Y/N’s back and went to fetch Steve. He was the one who was going to walk her down the aisle, her father was unable to attend the wedding under a whole bunch of different circumstances. It sucked, sure, but Y/N found it almost even more appropriate to have Steve there.

“Don’t get Steve, that means I need to like, get married,” Y/N sounded exasperated, but Natasha left anyways. Wanda picked up the bouquet and handed it back to Y/N, giving her small words of comfort as Steve and Natasha walked back into the room, both grinning away at the sight of the bride in front of them.

Y/N looked gorgeous, and Steve felt his heart soar at how happy he was for his best friend to have found the love of his life in such an amazing woman.

“Bucky’s one hell of a lucky guy,” Natasha winked at Y/N before turning away and opening the door once again. Sam and Clint walked in, dressed in dashing suits with little flowers in their chest pockets. They were Bucky’s best men, much to a couple people’s surprise.

The time came quickly for Y/N to walk down the aisle. Clint and Natasha walked first, followed by Wanda and Sam. Bucky stood the front of the altar, hair groomed and dressed to break hearts. Y/N made her way around the corner with Steve’s wrapped around hers and the two of them made their way down the aisle. Bucky’s heart stopped when he saw her - he was truly captivated. Y/N had to admit, Bucky really looked incredible. The two of them kept their gaze on each other, everyone else around them practically disappearing as the realization set in that they were finally getting married.

“You look - wow - I’m so lucky,” Bucky whispered into her ear when she made her way up to stand next to him. She fought back a blush, turning to face him and leaning in slightly.

“I’m the lucky one,” she whispered back.

The minister started his speech, making them recite their vows in front of a teary crowd, the bridesmaids and best men helping each other keep it together. The closer and closer they were to being husband and wife, the more nervous Y/N got - not because she didn’t want this, but because she wanted it so badly she couldn’t believe it was actually happening.

“Now, James Buchanan Barnes, do you take Y/N Y/L/N to be your lawfully wedded wife?” He asked and Y/N’s heart came to a halt as she looked up at Bucky, his loving gaze already stuck on her.

“I do.”

Y/N grinned from ear to ear, the happiness spreading through her entire body like a tidal wave.

“Y/N Y/L/N, do you take James Buchanan Barnes to be your lawfully wedded husband?” The minister asked her, making her tighten her grip on her future husband’s hands.

“I do.”

It was as if the entire room went silent as Bucky and Y/N looked into each other’s eyes, practically missing the minister calling for the ring bearer. Clint’s youngest son walked out, a small pillow with two rings sitting on top of it in his hands.

Y/N placed Bucky’s ring on his finger and he did the same for her, and Y/N couldn’t take her eyes off of how her hand looked now as a married woman. She quite liked it.

“You may now kiss the bride.”

As Bucky connected his lips to Y/N’s, the entire room burst into applause, hoots and hollers coming from the team being silenced out by Y/N as she took everything in.

She was married.

She was now Mrs. Barnes.

“I love you so much,” Bucky mumbled against her lips, deepening the kiss slightly as Y/N heard sniffling from the bridesmaids behind her. She was over the moon and there was nothing that could dampen her mood.

The reception was filled with laughter, tears, stories, and beautiful toasts given by family members and the rest of the Avengers. Fury even got emotional - it had everyone surprised.

The romantic bonding of two Avengers was not one that anyone recommended, but sitting here today and witnessing the connection between Bucky and Y/N was one that brought a smile to everyone’s face.

“Mrs. Barnes,” Bucky grinned down at her as the two of them moved slowly on the dance floor surrounded by their best friends, “I could get used to that.”

“Me too, Mr. Barnes, me too.”

[its-sixxers]

Meet the Muse

Tagged by @marvilus73​. Thank you so much! :D :D

|| The Basics ||

Name: Carmen

Nickname(s): The Courier, Courier Six

Age: Mid 20s during the events of New Vegas, mid 30s in the Commonwealth

Species: Human

|| Personal ||

Alignment: True Neutral

Religious Belief: Agnostic

Sins: Lust / Greed / Gluttony / Sloth / Pride / Envy / WRATH

Virtues: Chastity / Charity / Diligence / Humility / Kindness / Patience / Justice

Primary Goals In Life: Aside from survival, ensuring no one ever goes through what she’s suffered. If she has to put a few bullets in heads to do it, so be it.

Languages Known: English, Spanish

Secrets: Quite a sensitive soul beneath the cold exterior. Her past before the bullet to the skull is a secret even to herself.

Quirks: She likes to press flowers and herbs, a botanical record of her travels. Carmen also takes incredibly good care of her hair, devoting more time than is perhaps reasonable to keeping it brushed.

Savvies: Deadly aim, very good at lockpicking, intimidation, survival, good with animals.

|| Physical ||

Build: Slender / Scrawny / Bony / Fit / Athletic / Herculean / Babyfat / Pudgy / Obese / Other

Height: 5′8″

Weight: 135lbs

Scars/Birthmarks: A very wicked crescent shaped scar at her temple c/o Benny, various small defensive scars across her forearms, healing scars along her torso and thigh from bullet wounds.

Abilities/Powers: She borders on empath levels when it comes to picking up on the emotions of people around her. It helps her in her dealings with people, as her schmoozing skills leave something to be desired.

Restrictions: Anything restricting her neck launches her right into high stress territory. Radio static at the wrong time can set her into a panic attack. The Sierra Madre left its share of scars on her mind.

|| Favorites ||

Favorite Food: Desert Salad. 

Favorite Drink: Whiskey, though nothing hits like purified water if she’s not looking to get drunk.

Favorite Color: Gold

Favorite Music Genre: Classical or folk.

Favorite Book Genre: Romantic era literature.

Favorite Movie Genre: Westerns.

Favorite Season: Spring

Favorite Butt Type: Glory earned her code name in more ways than one.

Favorite Swear Word: Motherfucker, probably.

Favorite Scent:  The desert after the rain.

Favorite Quote: “The poetry of the earth is never dead.”  - John Keats

|| Fun Stuff ||

“Boss” Theme Music: All Along the Watchtower - Jimi Hendrix (this one was real hard)

Loud Burper Or Soft Burper: Loud / Soft / Neither

Sings In The Shower: Yes / No

Likes Bad Puns: Yes / No / Only if they are relevant to the situation

Tagging: YOU YES YOU DO THE THING