#still crushin'

[tumbleweedtech]

okay happy to give a prompt because I need alerudy like I need air they are so underwritten. I’m too Latino and too gay to not need them. Beware because it’s fluffy.

Dance lessons! I headcanon Alejandro as coming from a big family where Rudy might have only had one or no siblings, and you might think that means Ale had more opportunity to dance, that would be wrong. Alejandro got lost in the mix of family and by the time he’s like 15 he 1) can’t dance a basic cumbia because everyone figured he’d just pick it up and 2) is old enough that being bad at dancing is embarrassing rather than endearing. Rudy, by contrast, has been his single mom’s dance partner for years, right up until she got re-married (and he danced his ass off at the wedding too).

So Ale sucks it up and asks Rudy to teach him how to dance because it’s quinceañera season and he can’t go another year claiming he twisted his ankle. So the lessons begin. In secret, late at night on top of a roof near the bar district, where they can hear the music from below. Where no one can see two boys dancing. Rudy has him start by following, then by leading, and then they switch off. Dealer’s choice whether Rudy is dying inside because he’s wanted to dance with Ale for years, or if this is a Gay Awakening, but either way. They’re feeling Something.

I have no idea where this ends which is why I’m giving up custody to you!

how could you possibly know i am currently writing a cumbia fic with alerudy

how. *How*, Nonny? Alright. *cracks knuckles* Let's have at'er. (note: I'm going with Alejandro's mom is Rudy's madrino, and vice versa. Because idk about you, but my nina was treated like my second mother, no questions or argument allowed.) No CWs, just fluff of teenage boys with crushes dancing.

~~

"Alejandro."

"Rodolfo."  

Rudy rolls his eyes at the way Alejo parrots back, defensive. "Si se puede, Alejo."

Alejandro's refusing to look at him, frowning deeply, and it's heartbreaking how beautiful he is even now, gripping his own elbows, hair hanging in his eyes.

It was Alejo's tío who originally showed the boys this spot. The bright lights of the mercado cast its long flat roof into shadow; the strangely blinking red lights on its sign left it feeling private and alone. It hadn't been what Rudy had been looking for at the time. He'd heard there would be a meteor shower, and his mama was working that night. He knew Alejandro would go with him, he just had to find a place dark enough to see the stars.

They never did see the stars falling, but Alejandro held his hand as they watched the grey clouds cover a red-tinted sky and that was enough.

Tonight? The sky was clear and they could hear the distant but cheerful beat of the bar in the alley below. Rudy hoped it'd be loud enough to dance to.

Alejandro never liked failing, grouchy and embarrassed even as Rudy tried to model the steps.

"Alejandro, ven. Por favor. ��Bailar conmigo?"

Rudy held a hand out, waiting. It was rare that Alejandro would deny him anything he wanted, a fact his mother had pointed out to him with a sly smile. He'd asked her once why she never went out dancing. She had cupped his cheeks and squeezed. "Mijo, there is nothing better than dancing with someone you love with your entire heart. Dancing in a club? You can go with your friends and have fun. Take Alejito, he needs the fun. But I am happy, here, dancing with you."

He was tall enough now that it was easier for him to lead when dancing with her, but she'd taught him both skills. “You never know who you will want to dance with”, she'd insisted.

He was pretty sure she knew who he wanted to dance with.

And that person didn't want to dance with him.

Rudy sighed. "If you want, Tía Lucía is probably still awake. I can—"

With an angry snarl, Alejandro stomped over, holding his arms out stiffly. He still refused to look directly at Rudy now that they were standing so close together under the aging neon sign. Rudy couldn't help but feel a whisper of hope that the tint of red across Alejandro's face was the blush his mama swore was there when he wasn't looking.

"I'm not asking Tía Lucía to teach me to dance for her own daughter's quinceañera. She'll know why I didn't dance at Letty's."

"Okay. You sure you're not going to punch me? It's easier to learn the steps at first if you follow."

Alejandro's shoulders dropped, the frustration leaching out of him with a heavy sigh. He looked around again, taking in the soft echo of the music from below, the flickering light, and gestured for Rudy to come closer. "Not going to punch you. Not your fault, I—"

Whatever he was going to say was startled out of him as Rudy took his hand to pull him close, the other hand on his waist. "Relax."

Rudy shifted him gently, and Alejandro panicked, tightly gripping his shoulder, glancing down at their feet.

"Don't look. Just trust me, okay? Count with me."

Rudy counted a quiet beat, letting Alejandro slowly relax into the rhythm. He was good at it, once he relaxed. Rudy encouraged him around, into a small circle, before the song changed again, a bouncy, cheerful song that Rudy recognized from his mother's small, crackly radio.

"You try leading now." Rudy shifted their joined hands, rubbing his sweaty palm on his thigh before reaching up to clasp Alejandro's shoulder. He desperately wanted to wrap both arms around his neck and press close, but he was fairly sure he couldn't get away with claiming it was part of teaching him to dance.

Alejandro approached it like he did everything else new to him. Brow furrowed, concentrating. Rudy doesn't know exactly when Alejandro managed to get taller than him, but it took his breath away to look up, the bright glow reflecting in Alejandro's dark eyes that met his, studying him so intently.

He tested, his fingers gently pressing, guiding Rudy. His confidence grew as the song went on, and Rudy surrendered to the warmth of Alejandro's arm around him, hand gentle on his back. "Not so hard, is it?"

Alejandro's wry smile as he ducked his head was answer enough. It wasn't a difficult dance, at least not the basics. Alejandro lifted a shoulder at Rudy's questioning eyebrow. The movement shifted Rudy’s hand, and it was excuse enough. He took the moment to curl his hand around Alejandro's neck, feeling the knobs of his spine and tangling his fingers in his long, dark curls.

"Plenty to learn still, besides just the basic steps. Unless this is enough for you?"

Alejandro's voice cracked slightly, eyes wide as he pulled Rudy closer, both of them moving slower as the song faded out. "Might need more practice. I've seen you dance with Nina Antonia, there's spinning involved."

"Then come over tomorrow, after school. You know my mom won't make fun, and we've got the music. She's making pozole anyway, you know you want to."

"Fine," Alejandro huffed, pretending it was a hardship like they weren't always at each other's homes for dinner anyway. Tomorrow was a rare day off for Rudy’s mom, but he knew she wouldn't mind. "One more song first?"

Rudy shifted close again as Alejandro's too-warm hand gripped his ribs and they moved with the rhythm of the drums. Rudy had always enjoyed dancing with his mama, but he thought that maybe she had a point. Dancing with her was very, very different than dancing with Alejandro, especially with the way his eyes glittered in the dark.

[imwritesometimes]

nothing like waking up and immediately having horrible migraine aura followed by a horrible fckn migraine to just completely derail all the plans you had 😖

[witchyvixie]

feeling a strong desire to deep-dive into an emo phase extremely late

[ilovetodrinkwater]

i want to complain but it’s not worth my energy but i’m very awake but just don’t have the mental energy to string my words together to complain. except this

[viscer-aa]

Gorgeous gorgeous girls wake up out of a 3 year dissociative haze and find their only intimate companionship to be The Bloodlust

[sanguineterrain]

crushin' | jason todd

Summary: Barbara invites you to dinner with the Bats. She's done so before, and you've always declined, but this time, you agree because the Bat you've had a crush on for ages will be there. Little do you know, the only reason he's staying for dinner is because of you.

Pairing: Jason Todd x gn!reader 

Word count: 2.5k

Warnings/tags: batfam shenanigans, dick is a good meddling brother and deserves a fruit basket, fluff and humor, kissing, crushes, love confessions. just wanted to write something sweet and light :)

the divider

"So you're gonna press this," Barbara says, demonstrating on her own screen.

You follow along, clicking and typing. She nods.

"Good. Then you're gonna do this."

You open the file. A video of what looks to be Bruce drunkenly hula-hooping pops up. Your eyes widen.

"And that's how you keep Bruce in check," Barbara says, patting your shoulder. "Use sparingly. Only when he's getting on your last nerve."

"Wow," you say. "Babs, I... I don't know if I should have this kind of power."

"No, it's cool. I have dirt on everyone in this family, so really, it's my power. You're the only one who gets to see the vault."

You look at her. "You scare me."

She grins. "Thanks! Anyway, you're free to go. They'll be back from the mission soon, so our job is pretty much over."

The computer beeps. She checks the notification and types back. Then she hums.

"Or, you can, y'know, join us for dinner. Alfred keeps wondering when you'll do so."

You press your lips together. "I dunno, Babs... are you sure? I don't want to intrude."

"You're not. Seriously. And you know what I just found out? Jason will be here too."

Well. That does certainly stop your refusal in its tracks. You haven't seen Jason properly since he returned. You feel a pang of guilt at that; true, he's never at the Manor, at least not when you're around. But you could've reached out by now.

Still, being able to see him again properly is a wonderful opportunity. One you can't pass up.

"Okay," you say. "I'll join you all. As long as Alfred's okay with it."

She rolls her eyes, smiles. "Don't be ridiculous. C'mon."

You follow her to the elevator Bruce got installed for her. In the Manor, most of the family are sitting down to dinner. Damian and Cass are on one side of the table. Bruce is at the head. Alfred is still bustling in the kitchen.

You start to pull out the chair next to Cass, but Barbara startles you.

"That's Dick's chair!" She smiles sympathetically. "Sorry. He's particular. Isn't he, guys?"

"Yes," Cass says. "He's comfortable here."

"I've no idea what you're referring to, Gordon," says Damian. He nods at you. "Hello."

You smile. "Hey, Damian. That's fine. I'll sit next to you, Babs." You sit in the middle of three chairs, with Barbara on your right and an empty chair on your left.

"Hi, Cass. Hello, Mr. Wayne."

"Bruce," he reminds you. That's not happening. It feels way too weird to call him Bruce, even though you've known him since Jason was Robin. Just, no.

Cass smiles. "Hello. Glad to have you."

"Where's Tim and Duke?" you ask.

"Thomas is at university," Damian says. "Drake is probably with that idiot clone he calls a boyfriend."

Bruce looks up. "Tim and Connor are dating?"

"Good God," Barbara mumbles.

"Well, yes, Father. They've been dating for quite some time, even shared a room together. Last month, Drake went undercover in Atlantic City and the clone—"

"Old man! Where are you?"

"Jason, just—"

"Shut it, Dickhead."

The grandfather clock swings open, revealing the Cave entrance. Up stomps Jason, followed by Dick. Jason has a smear of purple goo on his forehead, but otherwise is clean. His back is to you.

Jason points an accusing gloved finger at Bruce. "You owe me a new bike, new guns, new gear, new phone, new—"

"Jason, slow down. Why exactly do I owe you new things?" Bruce asks.

"Because Tweedle-Dum here didn't scan the fuckin' spaceship that landed in Syracuse and melted my bike with purple goo!"

"It said it was empty," Dick says tiredly. "How was I supposed to know an abandoned ship would spit goo?"

"Okay, alright, boys, don't fight. Yes, Jason, I'll compensate everything you lost in Syracuse."

"Yeah, you will. And a new fridge." Jason thinks. "And a new TV."

"Master Jason," Alfred begins, walking into the dining room with a dish of roasted potatoes. "You may continue your bargaining with Master Bruce after dinner. Wipe that alien sludge off your face and have a seat."

Jason sighs. "Alf, I appreciate the invite, but you know I don't dine with most of the folks at this table. Gets real fuckin' crowded."

"Master Jason, watch your language," Alfred says sternly. "We have a guest. Behave like the young man I raised you to be."

Jason scoffs. "Who, Barbie? She doesn't—" He turns and stops, staring at you.

You smile, suddenly self-conscious. "Hi."

He swallows, eyes wide. "Hi. Hey."

"Aren't you staying for dinner?" you ask, confused. "Barbara said you were."

"I—" He glances at Barbara, then looks at you. "Uh. Well. I don't really..."

"C'mon, Jay, you guys should catch up!" Dick says brightly, already seated.

Jason's mouth sours as he turns to Dick. You pull out the chair next to you and tap the seat.

"You can sit next to me," you say, looking up at Jason.

He immediately turns back to you, lips parted. "Oh. I—y-yeah. Sure. Thanks."

"Master Jason. The goo," Alfred reminds, raising a brow. "And hang up your jacket."

Jason quickly backs up and bumps into the table corner. He winces.

"Right. I'm gonna... yeah. Be right back."

Jason disappears down the hall. Dick grins wolfishly at Barbara.

"You're amazing," he says.

"I know," she says, shrugging.

Alfred serves the last tray of vegetables, then sits. Jason soon returns, gloves and jacket away and goo-free.

"Did you style your hair, Todd?" Damian asks.

"No. Shut it." Jason scoots in his chair, glaring at his brother. But when you pass him the tray of roast, his expression softens. He smiles at you.

"Thanks," he says, and puts three slices on his plate. "Great roast, Alf."

"You haven't tried it," Alfred says, but looks very pleased.

"Don't need to."

"We're very glad you're here, Jason," Bruce says. "All things considered—"

Jason holds up a hand. "Ah-ah. I'm not here for you, old man. Save the speech for another day."

"And who are you here for, Jason?" Dick asks, propping his chin on his hands.

"None of your beeswax, Dick."

Dick shrugs. Damian begins to talk about an art project in school. You pay the appropriate amount of attention until Jason nudges your arm.

"Hey," he says, nodding at your empty glass. "Didja get something to drink?"

"Oh." Heat creeps up your neck. "Um, no. Sorry. I didn't know where to get the drinks."

"'S okay. Alf doesn't put out drinks anymore 'cause everybody drinks something different. You just help yourself to whatever's in the fridge. I'll get it for ya."

"Jason, you don't have to—"

He holds up a hand, smiling. "C'mon, none of that. You're a guest. Orange Fanta, right?"

You blink. "You remembered."

"Uh." His cheeks go pink. "I mean, yeah. No biggie. I'll be back."

Jason stands. Immediately, the others pounce.

"Are you going to the kitchen?" Dick asks.

"No," Jason says.

"Can you get me another Diet Coke?"

"Todd, if you're going to the kitchen, I would like another lemonade, please," Damian says.

"I just said I'm not going to the—"

"Master Jason, will you please bring this into the kitchen?" Alfred asks, holding up an empty tray.

Jason heaves a sigh. You wince.

"Sorry," you whisper.

He shakes his head and winks. "Nah, 's not you."

Obediently, Jason takes the tray and goes to the kitchen. He returns with a Diet Coke, which he tosses at Dick, who catches it with one hand, and a bottle of lemonade, which he throws to Damian who also catches it with one hand and a scowl. Finally, Jason opens the Orange Fanta for you and gently pours it into your glass, then sets the half-full can next to your plate. He sits down.

"Of course they get special treatment," Dick mumbles into his drink.

The table rattles, and Dick winces, squinting at Jason. The table rattles again, and Jason hisses.

"Boys," Bruce says wearily. "Enough."

"Yeah, Jason," Dick says, sticking his nose up. "Y'know it's my birthday soon. I deserve a brother who doesn't kick me."

"Oh, I'll tell ya what you deserve," Jason begins.

"Are we doing laser tag?" Cass pipes up from the end.

"'Course we are! Everybody's gonna be there." Dick looks pointedly at Jason. "Except my own brother. He refused."

You look at Jason, who's got a nasty glower aimed at Dick.

"You're not coming?" you ask.

Jason's expression melts away when he turns to you. "Uh, I mean—"

"No, he's not," Dick says, pulling the saddest pout you've ever seen. "He said he wanted nothing to do with my stupid birthday."

"Those weren't my exact words."

"They were very close," Damian says.

"Shut—"

"Jason, I can't believe you aren't going to Dick's birthday," Barbara says, shaking her head.

Jason's mouth falls open. "Et tu, Barbie?"

"You should come," you say, touching Jason's arm.

He immediately looks at your hand. You slowly remove it, smiling sheepishly.

"Then we can be a team," you say. "We're playing doubles. I'm horrendously bad at laser tag, but I bet we'd win together. I'd watch your six."

"Leaving them in the lurch, Jason?" Barbara tuts. "So unlike you."

Jason heaves a sigh. "For God—okay. Alright, brother mine. You win."

You beam. "So you'll come?"

"'Long as you and I are a team," Jason says, a little shy.

You bump his shoulder with yours. "Of course."

Dick looks at you. "You should join us for dinner every night."

You laugh bashfully. "Thanks, Dick."

Dinner goes on. Bruce excuses himself early, as do Cass and Damian. Soon, it's the four of you plus Alfred cleaning up after dinner. You and Jason are loading the dishwasher when Jason hisses. He pulls out his hand, revealing a thin red cut on his palm.

"Are you okay?" you ask, hovering worriedly.

"Yeah, 'm fine. I'll take the tray—"

"Jason, no," Dick says, herding him away from the dishwasher. "You have to get that wrapped immediately."

"What are you—dude, it's a tiny cut—"

"Yeah, but there was food on there, and you have no idea what can get into the wound and make you sick," Barbara says seriously. "You need to get it cleaned right now."

Jason rolls his eyes. "Fine, whatever. There's a first aid kit in the closet."

"There isn't!" Dick says, shooing Jason toward you. "Alfred hasn't restocked it. You have to go to the Cave. You should both go."

"Yes, great idea," Barbara says, looking at you. "You have medical experience, don't you?"

"I mean, a little, but—"

"More than us!" Dick says, shoving you both towards the hallway.

"I don't think so..."

"You take care of Jaybird here, he needs that hand," Dick says cheerily, opening the Cave entrance. "Go on, go."

"Christ on a bike," Jason mumbles, and heads down the stairs.

You follow, confused and concerned. The entrance slides closed. Jason goes to the medbay, muttering under his breath as he digs through one of the drawers with one hand. You join him, searching the top drawer for the antiseptic spray.

"Is the cut really bad?" you ask, trying to get a better look.

"No. My brother's just an idiot. Nothin' new."

You pull out the spray, some gauze, and a bandaid. Jason nods in thanks and goes to take it.

"I can do it," you say. "I do have medical experience, after all."

He snorts. "Fine by me."

You both sit on the edge of a cot. You turn to Jason and pull his hand into your lap. He inhales sharply. You stop.

"Is this okay?" you ask.

"Y-yeah. Fine. Sorry. I don't get touched a lot." Jason's mouth screws up. "Ugh. That sounded weird."

You laugh. "It's fine, I know what you meant."

He scratches the back of his neck while you clean his hand. He has big hands. Bigger than you remember. They're deeply scarred and calloused. You rub your thumbs over the pads of his fingers without thinking.

"You got soft hands," Jason says quietly.

"Heh. Thanks. The computer life."

He hums. "I didn't know you were working with Babs."

The guilt swims back full force.

"I know. I'm sorry. I should've reached out, Jason. I-I basically ignored you. Not on purpose! I just... I guess I wasn't sure where we stood and I thought maybe you'd be mad I was working for Batman after everything and I was afraid that we wouldn't—"

"Hey, whoa. 'M not mad." Jason finds your gaze. You frown. "I'm serious. I don't mind that you're working for Bruce. I mean, hell, I do too, on occasion. Mostly I just bitch at him."

You giggle. He smiles. You're still holding his hand. You don't really want to let go. Jason doesn't seem to want to pull away either.

"Well, even so, I'm sorry for not reaching out. I did miss you, Jason. And I'm glad you're back."

He clears his throat, ducking his head. "Huh. Well, I missed you too. And y'got nothin' to apologize for. I could've asked about you."

"Well—"

"Uh-uh, no, I'm the king of self-deprication. Y'can't take that from me," Jason says, eyes dancing with mirth.

You sigh dramatically. "Fine, fine. Can we say that we both could've reached out?"

"That's agreeable. And, uh, while we're clearing the air, I'm so terribly sorry 'bout my dumbass brother."

You tilt your head. "What do you mean?"

"Ah, huh. Hm. Well, funny thing. I kinda had a, um, crush on you, before. And Dick has it in his head that I... that I have a chance now. So... yeah."

"Before?" you ask.

You don't know why you're disappointed. It's not like you knew. Except maybe if you had, you wouldn't have missed out. Maybe you wouldn't have lost so much time.

Jason glances at you. "What... why are you sayin' it like that?"

"Like what?"

"Like you wish... that I..." He shakes his head. "Forget it."

"Jason," you say, barely a whisper.

He looks at you. His eyes flick to your lips, just for a millisecond. "Yeah?"

"Can I kiss you?"

A beat. Your heart falls.

"Yeah." Jason nods. "Yeah, kiss me."

You heart soars.

You hold Jason's face, still holding his hand. He gingerly touches your neck with his uninjured hand, strokes behind your ear with his thumb. Every nerve alights. You're kissing Jason Todd. The boy you've loved since you were thirteen.

"They did it! They're kissing!"

Jason growls against your mouth. You know it's not aimed at you, but it makes lightning shoot down your spine. Wow.

"'M gonna kill 'im," Jason mumbles.

You smile and pull back, just an inch. "It's nearly his birthday. At least wait till next week."

"Hm." Jason kisses the corner of your mouth. You like him so much. "Fine. Y'know you can convince me of pretty much anything? Wield that power carefully."

You wrap your arms around his neck. Jason braces you with a hand on the small of your back.

"I'm very flattered, but I think you're confused, Jay." A kiss to his jaw. "It's you who has a hold on me."

[softidolproject]

The forbidden one? Who's that?

"The one I'd like to try my shot at with again, but I know it'll never work out. She's made that abundantly clear, anyway..."

"...........She's way out of my league, anyway, and she doesn't have time for a girlfriend or boyfriend or anyone." Tomato pout.

[shybluebirdninja]

Hug Of Death

Summary: Logan’s always careful with his hugs, but after a night of too many drinks, he accidentally snikts his claws mid-hug. Now you’re trying to explain to ER staff why your boyfriend almost impaled you.

Pairing            : Logan Howlett x Gf!Human-reader Genre             : Fluff

It started out like any other Friday night—Logan dragging your ass to the local dive bar, his usual grumpy self trying to act all relaxed, and you sipping on whiskey, wondering how the hell you ended up dating a literal superhero with zero social skills and an endless supply of rage. But, y’know, you loved the guy, claws and all.

You’d both had a few drinks. Okay, way more than a few. The funny thing about Logan? That damn healing factor usually makes it impossible for him to get drunk. But tonight, well, something must've clicked because he was tipsy. And when Logan gets tipsy, he gets affectionate. He kept slinging his arm over you, pulling you in close, slurring something about how you were “the best thing that ever happened to him, babe,” and you were half-laughing, half-trying not to get crushed by his overenthusiastic affection.

“Babe, you’re crushin' me,” you gasp, wriggling under his weight as he leans in a little too close.

Logan grins, all teeth and stubble, his breath reeking of whiskey. “Aww, c’mon, honey. I ain’t crushin’ ya, just showin’ ya some love.”

You roll your eyes, trying to push him back a bit. “Yeah, Wolverine-level love. You forget you’re made of, I dunno, indestructible metal?”

“Pfft.” He waves it off like it’s no big deal, taking another swig from his bottle. “Details.”

Hours later, after countless beers, shots, and some weird drink the bartender insisted on calling “The Sabretooth Slammer,” you’re both stumbling back to your apartment. Logan’s got his arm draped over your shoulders like he’s forgotten how to use his own legs, and you’re doing your best not to let him drag you to the ground.

“You good, babe?” you ask, trying not to laugh as he trips over a crack in the sidewalk, stumbling like a massive, drunk toddler. “Logan, you’re about to face-plant on the pavement.”

“‘Course I’m good, darlin’,” he mumbles, flashing you a goofy grin. “I’m always good.”

You barely make it inside, but Logan, being the overly affectionate and entirely too drunk man that he is, decides it’s the perfect time to give you a hug. Not just any hug, mind you—this is a full-on, bear hug.

“Logan, easy—” you start, but it’s too late. He’s already wrapped you up in his arms, squeezing you like he’s afraid you might evaporate if he lets go.

“Love ya, babe,” he slurs, nuzzling his scruffy face into your hair. “So much.”

It’s actually kinda sweet...until you feel it.

SNIKT

“Oh, shit—Logan!” You yelp, pushing against his chest. “Your claws!”

Logan blinks, confused, as his adamantium claws slide out with that signature metallic sound. He’s still got you wrapped up in his arms, which is really not ideal when he’s packing literal knives in his hands.

“Oh, fuck,” he mutters, glancing down at the claws sticking out dangerously close to your side. “Babe, I... I didn’t mean to!”

You wiggle out of his grasp, holding up your shirt to check for any damage. A thin scratch, nothing serious, but you shoot him a look. “Logan, you almost impaled me!”

Logan stumbles backward, looking down at his hands in horror. “Goddammit, I—too much affection, huh?”

You sigh, rubbing your forehead. “Too much booze, babe. Too much booze.”

Cut to the ER. You’re sitting on one of those paper-lined beds while a nurse wraps a bandage around your torso, trying to keep a straight face as Logan awkwardly shifts in the chair next to you. He’s still not sober, by the way, and is doing his best to stay quiet. Not his strong suit.

“So, let me get this straight,” the nurse says, biting back a smile. “Your boyfriend... accidentally scratched you. With his... claws?”

You shoot Logan a sideways glance. He’s sitting there, his arms crossed, looking like a kid who got caught sneaking a cookie before dinner. “Yeah,” you say, trying to sound casual. “It happens.”

Logan, still drunk, mutters, “I just love too damn hard.”

The nurse stifles a laugh. “Right. Well, just be careful with those claws next time, okay?”

Logan groans, running a hand through his hair. “Ain’t gonna hear the end of this, am I?”

“Oh, absolutely not,” you grin, wincing as the bandage tightens. “This is gonna be a running joke for the next, like, decade. At least.”

“Christ,” he mutters, rubbing the back of his neck. “You’re really gonna milk this, huh?”

“Damn right I am, darling,” you laugh, leaning over to peck his cheek, which, honestly, just makes him blush even harder. “Let’s get out of here before they start charging us extra for the ‘superhero boyfriend’ drama.”

Logan chuckles softly, getting up from his chair to help you up. “Babe, next time... no drinks. Just, I dunno, Netflix or somethin’.”

You smirk. “Yeah, and maybe a hug that won’t send me to the ER?”

Logan pulls you in, carefully this time, planting a soft kiss on your temple. “No promises, but I’ll try.”

[lee-laurent]

Crushin' - Quinn Hughes

Summary: Quinn's crush on Brock's sister starts to cause some issues

wc: 7.8k

content: fluff, angst, kissing, grinding, mentions of sex but no smut, friends with benefits

notes: hi! i'm like working through writers' block rn. so... here is this i guess

Emma Boeser, known to those close to her as Emmy, had always been fiercely independent. Growing up as Brock's younger sister meant that she was no stranger to the world of professional hockey, but she had long ago sworn off any romantic involvement with hockey players. The glitz and glamour that others saw were just distractions to her--hockey players were trouble, and she had learned that the hard way. Now, she focused on her career, determined to make a name for herself that wasn't tied to her brother and his achievements.

Emma had secured a role in the Canucks' PR and marketing department, a job that she actually enjoyed going to. She was good at it too--organizing press events, managing the team's public image, and navigating the chaos of media day with ease. Her colleagues respected her, and the players knew she was off-limits, a professional boundary she had enforced since day one (one that her brother was glad to back up).

Quinn Hughes, on the other hand, was everything a star defenceman could be--talented, dedicated, and just the right amount of cocky. He had quickly made himself a name in the NHL, and his focus had always been on the game. Off the ice, Quinn was reserved, not one to seek out the spotlight unless it was absolutely necessary. But there was one person who managed to catch his eye every time, no matter how hard he tried to stay focused on his career--Emma.

Quinn had noticed Emma from the moment she started working with the team. She was striking, not just because of her looks, but because of the way she carried herself. There was something about her confidence and no-nonsense attitude that drew him in, even if he couldn't quite figure out why. They'd had only a few friendly interactions, but Emma always kept things strictly professional.

~~

It was after a team gala that their relationship shifted. Emma had been working late, ensuring everything ran smoothly. Quinn had stayed behind, nursing a drink as the event wound down. He noticed Emma, finally off the clock and enjoying a rare moment to herself. She looked relaxed, maybe a little tired, but still as composed as ever.

"Long night?" Quinn asked, leaning against the bar beside her.

Emma glanced at him, a small smirk tugging at her lips. "You could say that. But it's part of the job."

He nodded, studying her face. She was always so put together, always in control. "You did a great job tonight. Everything went off without a hitch."

"Thanks," Emma replied, raising her glass slightly. "But I'm sure you're not hanging around just to compliment the event planning."

Quinn chuckled, appreciating her directness. "Maybe not. I guess I was hoping to get to know you a bit more... off the clock."

Emma arched an eyebrow. "Off the clock?"

"Yeah," he said, meeting her gaze with a confidence he wasn't sure he really felt. "No work. Just us."

She considered him for a moment before downing the rest of her drink. "Alright, Hughes. But let's keep this simple. No strings, no drama. Just... fun."

He agreed without hesitation, not realizing at the time how much more complicated things would become.

~~

Emma wasn't one to complicate things, especially when it came to her personal life. Her rule was simple: no dating hockey players. The lifestyle, the endless travel, the pressure--they were all things she wanted no part of. But when it came to Quinn, that line had blurred.

What started as a one-time thing after a team event quickly turned into a series of late-night encounters. It was easy, convenient, and, most importantly, private. Emma liked the control it gave her--she could have what she wanted without risking her independence or her brother's wrath. And Quinn? He played along, meeting her in the middle of the night, leaving before dawn, and never asking for more.

Their relationship was built on stolen moments. Sometimes it was at his apartment, other times hers, but always with the same unspoken agreement: no one could know. Emma was strict about that, even more so than Quinn. The idea of Brock finding out was enough to make her heart race--not from excitement, but from pure dread. She knew her brother would lose it if he found out she was hooking up with one his teammates, especially Quinn, who was practically family to him.

For Quinn, those nights with Emma were a mix of heaven and hell. Being with her, touching her, was everything he wanted. But every time she slipped out of his bed, leaving him alone in the dark, it tore at him. He wanted more--he wanted her in his life in a way that went beyond just the physical. But he also knew that pushing for more could mean losing her altogether, and that was a risk he wasn't sure he could take.

At work, Emma was the epitome of professionalism. She was efficient, focused, and kept a cool distance from the players, especially Quinn. In meetings, she barely looked his way, addressing him with the same detached tone she used with everyone else. It was as if the Quinn who whispered her name in the dark didn't exist during daylight hours.

Quinn noticed, of course. He noticed everything about Emma. The way she would set her jaw when she was stressed, the little lines that formed between her brows when she was deep in thought. He noticed how she avoided his gaze during team meetings, how she never lingered when passing by him in the halls. It was like she had put up a wall between them, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't break through.

It was frustrating, especially when Quinn would catch a glimpse of the Emma he knew--the one who laughed at his jokes and leaned into his touch when they were alone. But at work, she was distant, almost cold, and it gnawed at him. He found himself wanting to bridge the gap, to make her see that they didn't have to keep pretending.

One afternoon, after a long practice session, Quinn saw his chance. Emma was standing by the rink, talking to one of the other staff members. She was dressed in her usual work attire, her hair pulled back into a neat ponytail, and her expression serious as she discussed logistics for an upcoming event.

Quinn approached her, waiting until the other person had walked away before speaking. "Emmy, do you have a minute?"

Emma glanced at him, her eyes narrowing slightly as if to warn him to keep things professional. "What is it, Hughes?" she asked, her tone brisk.

He resisted the urge to sigh. "I just wanted to go over some of the plans for the charity event next week. Thought we could grab a coffee and talk it through."

She hesitated, glancing around to make sure no one was watching. "I'm pretty swamped right now," she said, already turning to look at the iPad in her hands. "But I'll email you the details later."

"Come on, Emmy," Quinn pressed, lowering his voice so only she could hear. "It's just coffee."

Emma shot him a look that was both annoyed and pleading. "We can't, Quinn. Not here."

The way she said his name sent a shiver down his spine, but it also made his chest tighten with frustration. "It doesn't have to be like this," he said quietly. "We don't have to pretend."

She shook her head, tucking the iPad under her arm. "Yes, we do. I told you, this is how it has to be. We agreed."

"Yeah, well, maybe I'm not okay with that anymore."

Emma froze, her eyes searching his face for a moment before she looked away. "Quinn, please. Not here."

The vulnerability in her voice was new, something she rarely let slip. It softened Quinn's resolve, but only just. He nodded, stepping back to give her space. "Alright," he forced a smile. "I'll see you later, then."

Emma didn't reply, turning back to her work as if the conversation had never happened. But the tension lingered, heavy in the air between them.

~~

As the weeks passed, Quinn found it harder to ignore the growing feelings inside him. He was falling for Emma, and he knew it. It wasn't just about the physical connection anymore, though that was still a big part of it. It was about the way she challenged him, the way she made him laugh, and the way she kept him on his toes. She was different from anyone he'd ever been with, and he couldn't shake the feeling that she was exactly what he'd been looking for.

But the more he tried to let her in, the more she pulled away. Emma was stubborn, and Quinn was beginning to realize just how deep her fears ran. She had been hurt before--by a hockey player, no less--and she wasn't about to let that happen again. No matter how much she cared for Quinn, she couldn't bring herself to break her rule.

Quinn found himself torn between respecting her boundaries and wanting to push past them. Every time they were together, he tried to show her how much he cared, how much he wanted more than just sex. He'd hold her a little longer, kiss her a little softer, hoping she'd see that he wasn't like the others. But Emma was like a fortress, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't find a way in.

One night, after a particularly grueling game, Quinn found himself lying awake in his bed, his mind racing. Emma had been distant lately, more so than usual, and it was driving him fucking crazy. He missed her, missed the way things used to be before his feelings got in the way. He knew he should be grateful for what they had, but he couldn't shake the feeling that he was slowly losing her.

He picked up his phone, scrolling through their old messages. Most of them were short, simple texts about when and where to meet. But buried between the lines was a connection that went beyond just physical need. Quinn could see it, even if Emma refused to admit it.

Without thinking, he typed out a message: Can we talk?

He hesitated before hitting send, his thumb hovering over the screen. Part of him was terrified of what she might say, of hearing the words he didn't want to hear. But he couldn't keep going this like, stuck in a limbo with no idea where they stood.

Finally, he pressed send and waited. The minutes ticked by, each one feeling like an eternity. He stared at the screen, willing it to light up with her reply. When it finally did, his heart skipped a beat.

I'm busy right now. Maybe later?

Quinn's shoulders sagged, the tension in his chest only growing. It wasn't a no, but it wasn't the answer he wanted either. He knew Emma well enough to know that "maybe later" was her way of putting him off, of avoiding a conversation she didn't want to have.

But Quinn wasn't willing to let it slide this time. He needed to know where they stood, needed to know if there was any hope of something more.

I'll wait. he replied.

Emma didn't respond, and Quinn didn't expect her to. He set his phone down and stared at the ceiling, trying to figure out what he'd say when they finally did talk. Part of him knew he should be careful, that pushing too hard might drive her away for good. But another part of him--the part that was tired of pretending--was ready to take the risk.

As the hours passed by, Quinn's thoughts continued to circle back to Emma. He thought about the way she smiled when she let her guard down, the way she looked at him when she thought he wasn't paying attention. There was something there, somthing real, and Quinn was determined to make her see it.

When his phone finally buzzed with her reply, his heart raced. But when he read her message, his hope deflated.

Can we just keep things the way they are? I'm not ready for more, Quinn.

He stared at the words, feeling the weight of them settle in his chest. It was exactly what he feared, but hearing it--reading it--still hurt more than he expected.

Despite the sting, Quinn couldn't bring himself to walk away. To put his phone down. Not yet. He knew that if he wanted to be with Emma, he'd have to be patient, to wait for her to come to terms with her feelings. And as much as it pained him to do so, he respected her wishes.

Okay, he typed back. But I'm not giving up on us, Emmy

There was no response, but he didn't need one. He knew it was going to be a long road, but he was willing to wait as long as it took. Because for Emma, it was worth it.

~~

It was another late night in Vancouver, and the city was quiet outside Quinn's window. The game had been tough, a hard-fought win that left him physically drained but mentally wired. Emma had come over, as she often did after games, slipping into his place with the practiced ease of someone who had done it a hundred times before. They hadn't said much--there wasn't a need for words when they both knew what they were there for.

But tonight felt different to Quinn. There was a tension in the air that he couldn't shake, a weight pressing down on his chest as they lay in bed afterward. Emma was curled up next to him, a dull ache in her thighs, her breathing slow and steady as she started to drift off to sleep. Normally, Quinn would have let her, content to hold her in his arms until she inevitably slipped away before dawn. But not tonight.

"Emma," he whispered, his voice low and hesitant.

"Mmm?" she murmured.

There would be no going back. The words were there, waiting to be said, and he couldn't keep them bottled up any longer. "Can we talk?"

Emma's eyes opened, and she shifted slightly to look up at him. "About what?" she asked, her voice thick with sleep.

"About us."

She frowned, already sensing where this was going. "Quinn, we've talked about this. You know how I feel."

"No," he said, shaking his head. "We haven't really talked about it. Not like we need to." He reached out, brushing a strand of hair from her face. "Emma, this isn't just... physical for me anymore. It isn't just about the sex. I care about you. A lot."

Emma's frown deepened, and she pulled away slightly, sitting up in bed. "Quinn, don't--"

"Just listen to me, please," he interrupted, sitting up as well. He could see the walls going up, the defences she always put in place when things got too close. But he was determined to push through them this time. "I'm falling for you, Emma. I think I've been falling for you for a while now, and I can't keep pretending that I'm okay with this being just... whatever it is."

She stared at him, her expression filled with surprise and something else--something that looked a lot like fear. "Quinn, you know I can't--"

"Why not?" his voice raising with frustration. "Why can't we be something more? We're good together, Emma. I know you feel it to."

She shook her head, wrapping the sheet around herself as if it could protect her from the conversation. "It's not that simple, Quinn. You know it's not."

"It is that simple," he insisted, reaching out to take her hand. "We care about each other. We have fun together. The sex is incredible. We could have something real if you'd just let yourself believe it."

Emma's hand tightened around the sheet, and she looked away, unable to meet his gaze. "Quinn, I have rules for a reason."

"Rules?" Quinn scoffed, feeling his frustration boil over. "Emma, you're not living your life. You're hiding behind these 'rules' because you're scared."

She flinched at his words, but her expression hardened. "That's not fair."

"Isn't it?" Quinn pressed, his voice softening as he saw the hurt in her eyes. "Emma, I'm not trying to hurt you. I just... I want more. I want us to be more. But I can't do that alone."

There was a long silence, the air between them heavy with even more tension. Emma finally looked at him, her eyes filled with fear, doubt, and maybe longing. But then she shook her head, her walls returning.

"I can't, Quinn," she said quietly. "I'm not going to break my rules. Not for anyone."

Quinn's heart sank, but he forced himself to nod. He had known this was a possibility, that she might not be ready to take that leap with him. But hearing her say it still hurt more than he could've ever imagined. "Okay," he whispered. "I understand."

But the truth was, he didn't understand. Not really. Because he couldn't see why she was so determined to keep them apart when it was clear they could be so much more.

~~

Emma could feel Quinn's words threatening to crack the carfeully constructed walls she had built around herself. She had always been so sure of her rules, so certain that she needed them to protect herself. But hearing Quinn say that he was falling for her, that he wanted more, made her question everything.

It wasn't that she didn't care about Quinn--she did. More than she had ever intended to when they first started sleeping together. But that was exactly the problem. Caring about Quinn meant opening herself up to the possibility of getting hurt, and that was something she couldn't afford.

"Quinn," she began, choosing her words very carefully. "I made those rules for a reason. I've seen what happens when you get involved with hockey players. The lifestyle, the pressure--it's not something I want stacked on top of my own work."

He frowned, clearly not satsified with her explanation. "But I'm not like that, Emma. I'm not just some random guy looking for a fling. I want to be with you, for real. Why can't you see that?"

She sighed, running a hand through her hair. "I do see it, Quinn. But that doesn't change the fact that it's a bad idea. We're too close to Brock, too close to the team. If things go wrong--"

"They won't," his tone was firm. "I know it's scary, but we can make it work. We can take it slow, keep it private if you want, but I can't keep pretending this is just about sex."

Emma bit her lip, her mind running a mile a minute. She knew he was right, that what they had was more than just physical. But admitting that, giving in to it, felt like stepping off a cliff with no idea if there was anything there to catch her. She had promised herself she wouldn't get involved with a hockey player again, and yet here she was, teetering on the edge.

"I can't," she said again, shaking her head. "Quinn, I can't risk it. I'm sorry."

The words felt hollow, even to her, but she couldn't bring herself to say anything else. She looked at him, hoping he would understand, but the hurt in his eyes told her that he didn't. Or maybe he did, but he wasn't willing to accept it.

"Fine," Quinn said, his voice flat. "If that's how you really feel, then fine."

He moved to get out of bed, grabbing his clothes from the floor. Emma watched him, her heart aching at the sight of him pulling away. She wanted to reach out, to tell him she was sorry, that she didn't mean it. But the words stuck in her throat, choked by fear and doubt.

Quinn dressed quickly, avoiding her gaze as he headed for the door. Emma felt a surge of panic as she realized he was really leaving, that his might be the end of whatever they had. She opened her mouth to say something, anything, but the door was already closing behind him before she could find the words.

And just like that, he was gone.

Emma sat in the empty room, the silence keeping her stuck in her spot. The bed still smelled like him, a painful reminder of what she had just pushed away. She curled up into a ball, pulling the sheets around her as if they could somehow shield her from the reality of what had just happened.

She had been so certain she was doing the right thing, sticking to her rules and protecting herself. But now, with Quinn gone, all she felt was an overwhelming sense of loss. She had never let herself get this close to anyone before, not since the last time she had been burned by a hockey player. But Quinn... he was different. And that was what made this so much harder.

The tears came before she could stop them, spilling down her cheeks as she buried her face in the pillow. She had told herself that she didn't need anyone, that she was better off alone. But now, she wasn't so sure.

Meanwhile, Quinn was walking the streets of Vancouver, the cold night doing little to cool the fire of frustration and hurt burning in his chest. He had laid his heart on the line, told Emma how he really felt, and she had shut him down. He knew she was scared, that her rules were her way of protecting herself, but it didn't make it any easier to swallow.

He kicked at a loose piece of gravel on the sidewalk, watching as it skittered across the pavement. He wanted to be angry, to blame her for being so stubborn, so unwilling to let him in. But deep down, he knew that wasn't fair. Emma had been through a lot, and her fears were valid. But that didn't change the fact that he was hurting, that he wanted more from her than she was willing to give.

Quinn found himself at a small park, the trees bare and the benches empty in the late hour. He sat down, his head in his hands as he tried to sort through all the feelings in his head. He had never felt like this before--so out of control, so vulnerable. And it scared the hell out of him.

But what scared him even more was the thought of losing Emma. He knew she cared about him. There was something between them. Something worth fighting for.

As he sat there in the dark, he made a decision. He wasn't going to give up on Emma, no matter how hard she pushed him away. He knew it was risky, that he might get hurt in the process, but he also knew that it would be worth it. Emma was worth it.

He stood up, heading back to his apartment. He wasn't going to let her fear dictate their future. He would give her space if she needed it, but he wasn't going to walk away. Not yet.

Because sometimes, the best things in life were worth fighting for. And Quinn was ready to fight.

~~

The Canucks were on the road again, heading into a critical stretch of the season. This time, they were in a small city with a reputation for rowdy fans and intense games. The hotel was nice enough, but the schedule was grueling, leaving the players and staff little time to do anything but eat, sleep, and prepare for the next match.

Emma was there, of course, coordinating PR events and managing the team's image as she always did. She was good at her job--meticulous, organized, and (usually) calm under pressure. But this trip felt different. Ever since the conversation with Quinn a few weeks ago, she'd been on edge, constantly looking over her shoulder, half-expecting him to show up and push her again.

She'd managed to avoid him for the most part, keeping their interactions strictly professional. But then tension between them was palpable, simmering just beneath the surface. Emma threw herself into her work, hoping to distract herself from the nagging thoughts that kept creeeping in whenever she allowed herself a moment to breathe.

That night, after a long day, Emma retreated to her hotel room, exhausted. The PR duties had been endless, and she was looking forward to nothing more than a hot shower and collapsing into bed. She had just slipped into her pajamas, an XL Canucks t-shirt, when there was a knock at her door.

It was late--too late for any of the players or staff to be knocking at her door for work-related matters. For a brief moment, she considered not answering, pretending she was already asleep. But something compelled her to go to the door, her hand hovering over the handle as she took a deep breath.

When she opened the door, her heart sank and fluttered at the same time. Quinn stood there, dressed in a hoodie and sweats, his hands shoved in his pockets. His expression determined and vulnerable, and for a moment, she was at a loss of words.

"Quinn, what are you doing here?" she whispered.

"I had to see you," he replied, his voice steady. "Can I come in?"

Emma hesitated, glancing down the hallway to make sure no one was around. The last thing she needed was for someone to see them together like this. "Q, it's late. We can't do this here."

"I know it's late, but I don't care," he said, taking a step closer. "Emma, please. Just... let me in. We need to talk."

There was something in his eyes that made it impossible to say no. With a resigned sigh, she stepped aside, allowing him to slip into the room. The door clicked shut behind them, the sound loud in the quiet night.

Quinn didn't waste any time. As soon as they were alone, he turned to face her, his face serious. "I can't keep doing this, Emma. I can't keep pretending I'm okay with the way thing are."

She crossed her arms over her chest. "We've talked about this, Quinn. You know where I stand."

"No, we haven't really talked about it," he countered. "You've told me how you feel, but you haven't listened to how I feel."

Emma looked away, unable to meet his gaze. She knew what was coming next, "Quinn, please. Don't do this."

"I have to," he said. "Emma, I'm in love with you. And I can't keep pretending that I'm okay with this just being sex. Because it's not, at least not to me."

The words hit her like a punch to the gut, winding her and leaving her breathless. She had known this was coming, had seen it in the way he looked at her, the way he touched her. But hearing him say it out loud made it real in a way she wasn't prepared for.

"Quinn..." she began, but he shook his head, cutting her off.

"No, just listen to me," he pleaded. "I know you're scared. I know you've been hurt before, and I know you've made these rules to protect yourself. But Emma, you can't shut yourself off from the world forever. You can't yourself off from me."

Tears welled up in her eyes, and she blinked them back, determined not to let them fall. "It's not that simple."

"Yes, it is," he insisted, stepping even closer until he was right in front of her, his hand reaching out to cup her cheek. "It is that simple. We care about each other. We have something real. Don't you want to see where this could go?"

Emma closed her eyes, leaning into his touch despite herself. "I'm scared, Quinn. I'm scared that if I let you in, I'll get hurt again."

"You won't," he whispered, his thumb brushing away a stray tear that had slipped down her cheek. "I'm not going to hurt you, Emma. I promise you."

The dam broke. All the emotions Emma had been bottling up for months came flooding out in a rush. She let out a choked sob, her hands gripping the front of Quinn's hoodie as she buried her face in his chest. "I don't know how to do this," she admitted, her voice muffled by the fabric.

Quinn wrapped his arms around her, holding her tightly as she cried. "You don't have to know. We'll figure it out together."

For a long time, they stood there, wrapped in each other's arms as Emma let herself be vulnerable for the first time in years. It felt like the weight of the world had been lifted off her shoulders, but at the same time, she was terrified of what was to come next.

Finally, she pulled back just enough to look up at him, her eyes red and puffy from crying. "I don't want to lose you, Q. But I don't know if I can do this."

"You can," he assured her, his hand gently carressing her hair. "We'll take it one step at a time. I'm not going anywhere, Emmy. Not unless you tell me to."

She shook her head, her grip on his hoodie tightening. "I don't want you to go."

"Then I'm staying," he said, leaning down to press a soft kiss to her forehead.

The kiss was tender, a promise of what was to come if she could just let go of her fears. Emma felt something shift inside her, a crack in the armour she'd built around her heart. She looked up at Quinn, her heart pounding in her chest as she realized how much she wanted this--wanted him.

Without another word, she closed the distance between them, pressing her lips to his in a kiss that was different from all the ones that had come before. This one was slow, deliberate, filled with all the emotions they'd been holding back. It wasn't about lust or need--it was about something deeper, something that scared her just as much as it thrilled her.

Quinn responded immediately, his arms tightening around her as he kissed her back with the same intensity. The world outside ceased to exist; all that mattered was the two of them, alone in the quiet of the hotel room.

They moved together in perfect sync, their movements slower, more meaningful than before. It was as if they were discovering each other all over again, but this time with their hearts fully in it. Quinn laid her back on the bed, his hands reaching under her shirt. She shivered, his skin cold against hers. She gripped his hair, bringing his body closer to hers so that their hips were pressed together. There was no rush, everything felt slow and loving.

As they lay together afterward, their breaths heavy in the air, Emma felt a peace she hadn't felt in years. For the first time, she felt hope that a relationship could work for her. As she drifted off to sleep in his arms, her mind still buzzing with the emotions of the night, there was a small part of her that couldn't shake the fear of what was to happen next.

~~

The soft light of the morning filtered through the thin curtains of the hotel room. Emma stirred in her sleep, the events of the night before replaying in her mind as she hovered between dreams and waking. She could feel the steady rise and fall of Quinn's chest, his arm draped protectively around her waist.

For a moment, everything felt perfect. Peaceful. But then she remembered that it wasn't just another night together. This time it was more intense, more meaningful. Emma knew she couldn't pretend it was just a casual hookup anymore.

Quinn was awake, too, his fingers gently tracing patterns on her back. He didn't want to move, didn't want to ruin the moment they were sharing. But he knew they couldn't stay like that forever. Sooner or later, they'd have to face the consequences of what they had become, and that thought terrified him.

"Morning," he whispered.

Emma tilted her head up to look at him, her eyes still heavy with sleep. "Morning," she replied, her voice barely audible.

They stayed like that for a while, just looking at each other, neither one wanting to be the first to speak about how things had changed between them.

"What happens now?" Emma finally asked, her voice wavering slightly.

Quinn hesitated, searching her eyes for any sign of doubt. "I don't know," he admitted. "But I do know that I don't want this to be the last time we wake up like this."

"I don't know if I'm ready for that," she confessed, her fingers absently tracing the outline of his collarbone.

"I know," Quinn said, his voice gentle. "But I'm not asking for you to be ready right now. I'm just asking you to think about it. To think about us."

Emma didn't respond right away. She wanted to believe they could make it work, that they could be more than just a secret. But the reality of their situation--of Brock, the team, and her own fears--loomed over her like a storm cloud.

Before she could find the words to respond, a sharp knock echoed through the room, shattering the moment of quiet intimacy. They both froze, their eyes locking as the sound registered in their tired brains.

"Emma?" Brock's voice called from the other side of the door. "You up?"

Panic surged through Emma's veins as she scrambled to sit up. This couldn't be happening. Not now. Not like this.

Quinn's eyes widened in alarm, his hand gripping the sheets as if to make sure he wasn't dreaming. "What do we do?" his whispered urgently.

"Shit," she cursed under her breath, her heart pounding in her chest. "You need to hide."

"Where?" he hissed, his eyes darting around the small hotel room. There was nowhere to go, nowhere that wouldn't immediately give him away.

"Just--" Emma was cut off by another knock, this one more insistent.

"Emma, you in there?" Brock's voice was more concerned now.

Her mind was racing, trying to come up with a plan. But before she could do anything, the door handle began to turn. Brock was coming in. Emma always gave him an extra key to use in case of emergencies. And her not answering him was an emergency in his mind?

Quinn barely had time to leap out of the bed, grabbing his clothes and diving into the bathroom just as the door opened. Emma could feel her heart in her throat as she watched him disappear, her pulse pounding in her ears.

Brock stepped into the room, his brow furrowed in confusion. "Em, what's going on? Why didn't you answer?"

Emma forced a smile, suddenly feeling like she was going to be sick. "Sorry, Brock. I was just getting up," she lied, pulling the covers a little tighter to her chest.

Brock's eyes narrowed, his gaze sweeping over the room before landing back on his sister. "Are you okay? You look... I don't know, off."

"I'm fine," she replied quickly, hoping her voice didn't betray the panic she felt. "Just tired, that's all."

Brock didn't look convinced, but before he could press any further, a loud clatter came from the bathroom. The sound of something falling, followed by a muffled curse.

Emma's blood ran cold as Brock's head snapped toward the bathroom door so fast he could've gotten whiplash. "What was that?" his voice was twinged with suspicion.

Her wind went blank, all possible excuses failing her. She couldn't come up with a single plausible explanation for the noise. All she could do was watch in horror as Brock took a step towards the bathroom door.

"Brock, wait--"

But it was too late. He was already pushing the bathroom door open, his eyes widening in shock as he took in the sight before him. Quinn stood there, half-dressed, his face covered in guilt and resignation. He had clearly tried to get dressed quickly, but it obvious what had happened. There was no hiding it now.

"Quinn?" Brock's voice was low, dangerous, as he turned to look at his sister, his eyes blazing with anger. "What the hell is going on here?"

This was exactly what Emma had been trying to avoid, the confrontation she dreaded from the moment she and Quinn had started whatever it was they were doing.

"Brock, I--" she began, but Brock cut her off, his voice rising with anger.

"How long has this been going on?" he demanded, his hands clenched into fists at his sides. "How long have you been sneaking around behind my back? Sleeping with my teammate?"

"Brock, it's not what you think," Quinn interjected, stepping forward, his hands raised as if he was approaching a wild beast.

"Not what I think?" Brock's eyes darted between the two of them. "What am I supposed to think, Quinn? You're in my sister's hotel room, half-naked, and you expect me to believe this is just a misunderstanding?"

Emma couldn't help the sense of guilt that was creeping in when she saw the hurt in her brother's eyes. This wasn't how she wanted him to find out, not like this. But there was no taking it back now, no undoing the mess they had created.

"Brock, listen to me," she started. "I didn't want to tell you because I knew you'd react like this. But it's not Quinn's fault. It's mine. I... I care about him a lot."

Brock's anger faltered, replaced by confusion. "You care about him? Emma, you've always said you'd never date a hockey player again. You've always told me--"

"I know what I've always said," Emma interrupted. "But things change. People change. I didn't expect this to happen, but it did. And I didn't tell you because I was scared of how you'd react."

Brock stared at her, "You should have told me, Em. You're my sister. I deserve to know what's going on in your life.

"I know," she mumbled, tears welling in her eyes. "I'm sorry, Brock. I never wanted to hurt you."

The room was silent for a long moment, then tension in the air thick. Quinn stood by the bathroom door, his heart heavy as he watched the siblings. He knew this wasn't giong to be an easy conversation, but it was necessary if he and Emma were going to have a chance of being together. They had to face this head-on.

"I just... I can't believe you didn't tell me," Brock said quietly, his voice tinged with sadness.

"I'm telling you now," Emma said softly. "And I'm telling you that I care about Quinn. This isn't just us hooking up. It's something more."

"You really care about him?"

"I do, Brock. I really do."

Brock glanced at Quinn, who stood there with a look of determination on his face. It was clear that he wasn't going to back down, that he was ready to fight for Emma if that's what it took. And as much as it pained him, Brock knew he couldn't stand in the way of that.

"Alright. But if he hurts you, Emma... if he breaks your heart, I swear--"

"He won't," she interrupted, "He won't."

Brock nodded, "Okay. But you two owe me an explanation. The whole story."

"We will," Quinn promised. "You deserve that."

Brock turned to leave, to give them some space. They had made it through the worst of it, but there was still so much unsaid, so many obstacles they would have to overcome.

~~

The morning after Brock's discovery, there was still a tension in the air. The team was scheduled to leave the hotel soon, and Emma could feel the unease radiating from Brock as they packed up their things.

Brock waited until they were in the parking lot, away from the rest of the team, before he turned to Quinn. "We need to talk."

Quinn nodded, "Yeah, we do."

They walked a few steps away from the bus, finding a quiet corner where they wouldn't be overheard. Emma watched from a distance, she could see the stiffness in Brock's shoulders.

"What the hell, Quinn? You're supposed to be my friend. How could you go behind my back like this?"

Quinn swallowed hard, knowing that Brock had every right to be angry. "I didn't mean for it to happen this way. I never wanted to keep it from you, but Emma... we weren't really sure where we stood. I was trying to respect her wishes."

Brock let out a harsh laugh, shaking his head. "Respect her wishes? You're supposed to respect me, too. I trusted you, Quinn."

"I know. And I'm sorry. I hate that I hurt you, Brock. But I care about Emma. I care about her more than I've ever cared about anyone."

"This isn't just some fling to you, is it?"

"No. It's not. I know how it looks, and I know why you're pissed. But Emma means everything to me. I'm not going to hurt her, Brock. I swear."

Quinn could see the conflict in his friend's eyes, the way he was struggling to reconcile the betrayal he felt with the truth of Quinn's words. Finally, Brock let out a long sigh, ruunning a hand through his hair.

"I'm still mad as hell at you. But if you're serious about her... if you really care about her, then I guess I don't have a choice but to deal with it."

"I am serious, Brock. And I get why you're angry. But I promise you, I'm going to do everything I can to make this work."

"You better. Because if you screw this up, Hughes... if you hurt her, I'm coming for you. And nothing will stop me."

Quinn didn't flinch at the warning, understanding the protective instincts behind it. "I won't hurt her. You have my word."

Brock didn't say anything for a few seconds, then finally extended his hand. "Alright. We'll see how this goes."

Quinn shook his hand. It wasn't a full reconciliation, but it was a start.

~~

Emma sat by the window on the back of the bus. The conversation between Brock and Quinn had gone better than she'd expected. Now, more than ever, she needed to decide what she really wanted.

As the bus rumbled down the highway, Emma continued to stare out the window, her mind drifting back to all the events that had led her there. She thought about the walls she had built around herself, the rules she had clung onto so tightly. They had been her armour, her way of protecting herself from getting hurt again. But now, she was starting to realize that those same walls were keeping her from something she truly wanted--something real with Quinn.

But could she really risk everything for him? Could she trust him not to break her heart, not to shatter her into pieces like she'd been before?

She thought about the way he had held her in the hotel room, the way he had looked at her with such sincerity, such unwavering care. He had been patient with her, understanding her fears even when she hadn't fully explained them. He had been willing to wait, to take things at her pace, and that meant more to her than she could express.

Emma knew that she couldn't keep running from her feelings, couldn't keep hiding behind her rules. If she wanted to be happy, really happy, she needed to take a leap of faith. She needed to let Quinn in, to trust that he would catch her if she fell.

She made her decision. She was going to give Quinn Hughes a real chance. It wouldn't be easy, but she was tired of being afraid, tired of letting the past dictate her future.

~~

After they arrived at the next hotel, Emma waited until most of the team had gone up to their rooms before she approached Quinn. He was standing by the luggage cart, talking to one of the staff members, but when he saw her coming, he broke off the conversation, his eyes locking onto hers.

"Emma? Everything okay?"

She nodded, "Can we talk?"

"Of course. What's on your mind?"

Emma led him away from the group, finding a quiet spot near the hotel's entrance. "I've been doing a lot of thinking. And I've realized something."

Quinn nodded, urging her to continue.

"I've been scared. Scared of getting hurt again, scared of what might happen if I let someone in. But... I don't want to be scared anymore."

His eyes softened, and he took a step closer, reaching out to gently untangle her hands, holding them in his. "Emma..."

"I want to give us a chance, Quinn. A real chance. No more hiding, no more pretending it's just physical. I want to see where this can go."

Quinn's face lit up with a smile. "You have no idea how long I've wanted to hear you say that." He squeezed her hands, his thumbs brushing over her knuckles. "I promise you, Emma, I'm all in. Whatever it takes, we'll make this work."

Quinn leaned down to kiss her, a soft, tender kiss that held all the promises of the future they could create together. Emma knew she had made the right choice. She was taking a risk, but it was a risk worth taking.

Later that evening, as the team gathered for dinner, Brock found himself watching Emma and Quinn across the room. They were sitting together, not hiding their connection but not flaunting it either. He could see the way Quinn's hand rested protectively on Emma's knee, the way Emma leaned into him, a soft smile on her face.

He could see how much Quinn cared about his sister, how much Emma softened around him. It was becoming glaringly clear to him that this wasn't just some fling, that they were both very serious about making it work.

Brock let out a sigh, running a hand through his hair. He wasn't sure he was ready to fully forgive them, but he knew that he couldn't stand in the way of their happiness. If this is what Emma wanted, if this was what made her happy, then he would find a way to be okay with it.

He caught Quinn's eye from across the room, and for a moment, they just looked at each other. Then, slowly, Brock gave him a slight nod, a silent acknowledgment of the understanding they had reached earlier.

Quinn returned the nod. And as Brock watched Emma laugh at something Quinn said, her face lighting up in a way he hadn't seen in years, he realized that maybe, just maybe, this was exactly what she needed.

[literaryavenger]

I love you and I hate it

Summary: Bucky's your best friend, but you're in love with him. Now that he has a girlfriend, will you be able to get a handle on your feelings?

Pairing: Best Friend!Bucky Barnes x Female!Reader

Warnings: Bucky being a bit of an ass. Reader being dramatic. Angst. Language maybe. Minimal use of Y/N. My poor attempts at being funny.

Word Count: 2.7K

A/N: this is a two part because otherwise it was too long. Hope you like it! also, it's 4:30am and I can't help myself lol.

Masterlist

Loving your best friend is not something anyone ever plans.

Getting those kinds of feelings for the person closest to you changes the way you look at them, the way you interact and essentially your relationship with them, making everything unnecessarily complicated.

At least that’s how you see it.

You definitely didn't think something like that could ever happen to you. But to be fair, you also never thought Bucky Barnes would ever become your best friend at the compound.

When you first arrived as the newest avengers recruit the brooding supersoldier was not your biggest fan. Things didn’t start on the best note for you two.

- 2 years ago -

Steve was showing you around the compound and introducing you to people and team members as you met them. You arrived at the common room where Bucky and Sam were watching Tv.

"Hey guys. This is Y/N, the new recruit I told you about," Steve introduced you "this is Sam." he said to you as Sam got up from the couch putting out his hand.

"Nice to meet you." he said.

"You too," you said, shaking his hand "it’s so exciting to be here and meet all of you. You are all such remarkable people."

"Oh, complimenting me? I like you already." Sam said chuckling.

"Of course you do." Steve said, rolling his eyes with a smile, then turned to you "and this is Bucky" he said, pointing at the brunette still sitting on the couch.

"Hi Bucky, it’s nice to meet you too." you said, getting closer to him and holding out your hand for him to shake. Bucky, however, just looked at you for a moment before standing up, turning away from you and walking out of the room without saying a word.

"Uh... did I do something wrong?" you asked, very much confused, still looking at the door Bucky just ran out of.

"No, it’s always him." said Sam.

"Sam, don’t." Steve told him, then turned to you again "don’t mind Bucky, he’s not good with new people. It’s nothing personal, he’ll get used to it, don’t worry."

"Right. He’ll get used to me." you said as he gave you an apologetic look "yeah… anyway, let’s finish the tour."

"Sure, bye Sam. See you around, I guess." you told Sam with a smile.

"Yeah, see you guys at dinner." and with that you left to finish the tour of the compound that ultimately ended with your assigned room.

"So this is your room, Natasha has the room on the right and Sam has the one on the left." he pointed at them as he talked and then pointed at the room across from yours "that's Bucky, to his right is Peter and mine is to his left."

"A lot of neighbors, got it."  you said chuckling with Steve.

"Yeah. So I’ll let you get settled and I’ll see you at dinner with the team." he said.

"Yeah, see you later." 

If you were honest with yourself, you were a little disappointed at how meeting Bucky went, you were really looking forward to meeting the super soldier.

While all the other girls were busy crushin on Captain America, you always felt more attracted to Sergeant Barnes.

Something about him just made you curious, and, after all the Winter Soldier stuff came to light, you were one of the few people that saw right away that Bucky was a victim.

You never did understand how people could read all the details of what happened to him and still call him a monster, like it was his fault that he was captured, tortured and made to do things no decent human being would ever do.

In fact, you got in trouble more than one time for fighting when things escalated while you were defending the super soldier from agents that didn’t see it like you.

It’s really a shame that a lot of agents of Shield itself thought so ill of the Sergeant. Maybe that’s why he didn’t like you, maybe he thought you were one of them.

You had to make sure he knew you weren’t.

Having made up your mind, you decided there was no better time like the present. You crossed the hall and knocked on his door, and after a few moments he opened.

"I know, Steve, don-" he interrupted himself the second he laid eyes on you.

"Sorry, not Steve. Clearly. I’m sorry to bother you, Sergeant Barnes, I just wanted to let you know that I don’t have anything against you. I know some agents feel like you should be held accountable for the things you were forced to do, and they’re not really afraid to get vocal about it, but I’m not one of them. I don’t think any of it was your fault. It may not matter much to you, after all you don’t seem to like me very much, but it’s important to me that you know this. You’re kind of my  hero." you finished, a little embarrassed at admitting this to his face. He looked at you for a few moments and, just as you thought he was about to slam the door in your face, he grinned.

"I’m your hero, doll?" he asked, leaning on the door frame with his arms crossed in a way that made his biceps look huge and a smirk on his face.

After that you and Bucky became quick friends, spending more and more time together. Missions, training, down time, you were practically attached at the hip.

You were always careful not to let any feelings grow other than friendship and, mostly, it was easy.

There were some times where you somehow ended up flirting, but they were fleeting moments that passed as quickly as they came, and you decided, for your own peace of mind, to not overthink them and let it go every time.

Now, back to the present, the reason why you’re lost in your thoughts and feelings for Bucky.

You’re watching from a distance as Bucky smiles and laughs, happier than you’ve ever seen him surrounded by his friends, more relaxed than he’s ever been during a party.

You smile at his happiness, glad that he’s finally comfortable around pretty much everybody, but your face falls pretty fast as you see him wrap his right arm around her.

You’ve known Sharon for a while now, she was one of the agents in the list for the spot in the Avengers before you got it. You always felt like she resented you for it, like she should’ve been the one to get it because she was already close with some of the members of the team.

She was never openly hostile with you, but you did notice her hanging around Bucky more and more in the last few months. You didn’t think anything of it, but you were proved wrong just half an hour ago when Bucky started to introduce her to the avengers she didn’t already know as his girlfriend.

As soon as that word came out of his mouth, so casually you’d think he'd been saying it his whole life,  you felt like you were gonna throw up.

It took all your skills to keep your face as neutral as possible, you felt like Sharon’s eyes were on you the whole time, trying to see every micro expression she could find to know what you were thinking.

But you were probably just imagining that, right?

You excused yourself as soon as you could and went straight to the bar to get the strongest drink Nat could make, which she handed to you with a knowing look while glancing behind you.

You barely had time to think before you felt his hand on your shoulder, feeling his body next to you but you didn't turn to look at him, taking a sip of your drink instead.

"Hey, doll, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you about Sharon before, it’s still pretty new."

You tried to keep your voice as cheery as you normally would around him. "Why would you? It’s your relationship, why are you apologizing?"

He gave you a weird look you'd never seen before, before saying "Because we’re best friends? We usually tell each other everything… right?" he sounded a bit uncertain.

"Yeah, right, duh." you said, trying to give a genuine laugh "Well, it’s alright anyway, now I know! Stop worrying, just go be with her."

He looked around your face for a few more moments, like he was looking for something, before he said "ok, then." and left.

You managed to keep the smile on your face until you were sure he was gone, but dropped it as soon as you looked back ahead of you.

Taking another sip of your drink and making a face at how much alcohol was actually in it, you looked at Nat and, nodding, you left before she could comment on the scene you’re sure she just watched in its entirety. 

So here you are now, in a corner watching people enjoy themselves, just like you used to do at parties with Bucky by your side, except you’re alone.

You try to look on the bright side, you really are, but you can find none.

You can't talk about it with anyone either since nobody knows about your feelings for the super soldier, except for Natasha who always seems to know everything, but  you aren't too close with her and neither of you ever actually spoke about it out loud.

Not that you would've, you aren't the most outgoing person, usually keeping your feelings and most of your thoughts to yourself, with the exception of Bucky.

With him talking seems like the easiest thing in the world, it doesn't matter about what. He knows almost everything that he could possibly know about you, the only thing that you could never bring yourself to talk about is your feelings for him.

You feel a hand in the low of your back and, just as you're bringing your fist up, you realize it's just Steve. "Easy there, tiger." he chuckled, lowering your arm for you. "You seem a little on edge. Everything okay?"

"Everything’s just fine, Captain. You can salute your way to someone else now." His laugh makes you smile against your will.

"Okay, rookie, you don’t wanna talk about it." you roll your eyes at the old nickname, but he keep going, "you know, I don’t think I’ve ever seen you at a party without your moping buddy."

You glance at Bucky, who's busy laughing it up with Clint and Laura, his arm still around Sharon. Your eyes find Steve’s again, and you simply shrug. "We’re allowed to do our own thing, aren’t we?"

"Of course you are... I was just wondering why you weren’t with him, that’s all."

You avoid his eyes while you quietly say, "he already has someone at his side tonight, doesn’t need me there."

"What’s that supposed to mean?" comes a voice from behind you.

Damn. The one moment you weren’t looking at him and he sneaks up on you.

You turn around and see him standing there, arms crossed in front of his chest, Sharon at his side with a smug look on her face that you convince yourself you’re just imagining.

"What’s what supposed to mean?"  You try playing dumb, but you know Bucky can see right through that.

He raises an eyebrow at you expectantly but when you just shrug and give him your best confused look, he sighs and looks at Sharon. "Hey babe, can you get me a scotch from the bar? I’ll meet you there."

You don't know if you're more hurt at him calling her that or relieved at the fact that he didn’t use the nickname that was usually reserved for you.

She just nods and, without taking her eyes off of you, gives him a kiss on the lips. Okay, you definitely didn’t imagine that. As soon as she’s far enough, Bucky turns back to you.

"What’s wrong with you tonight?" He asks sharply.

"Excuse me? Who said there was something wrong with me?" You say defensively.

"Oh come on doll, you’ve been weird ever since Sharon got here. What’s the matter, do you not like her or something?"

You don't know what to say. You certainly aren't about to tell your best friend that the reason you don’t like his new girlfriend is because you have feelings for him. That’s not gonna end well for anybody. So you decide to just keep on denying.

"I don’t know what you’re talking about, Bucky, so why don’t you just go after you little girlfriend and enjoy your night with her."

"That, right there." he points at your face in a very accusatory manner. "What the fuck was that?"

"What was what?" you’re starting to raise your voice a little and swatting at his hand, getting annoyed at him for not letting this go.

"You’re being a jerk about Sharon, what is your problem with her?"

"I don’t have a problem with her!"

"Yes, you do!"

"Why are you trying to make this into a problem?!"

"Because I know you!" At this point you're both yelling.

"Well, clearly, you don’t know me as well as you think you do!" Lie.

"Why do you have to be so stubborn?! Just tell me what the hell is your problem!"

"Why do you care so much? Even if I had a problem, it’s my business, it’s not like I’m your girlfriend!" Bucky just looks at you with a face you’d never seen on him before and you can't decipher.

The whole room seems to go quiet as you two just look at each other for a few moments, then Bucky finally speaks.

"You’re right." he says, in a much quieter voice than a second before "you’re not my girlfriend. I just thought you were my friend. Guess I was wrong. I’ll go after my little girlfriend now."

You can't find it in you to say anything and, when you just look at him, he scoffs and turns around to make his way to the bar.

Slowly it feels like everyone else starts to go back to what they were doing before your yelling match stopped the party in its tracks, but you feel like you can't breath, let alone move, as you watch the spot where Bucky was standing just moments ago, tears starting to form in your eyes.

You can’t believe that just happened. Did Bucky really just say you aren’t his friend?

A hand on your shoulder brings you back to reality and you hear Steve saying "are you okay?" from next to you.

In all honesty, you forgot he was even there.

All that comes out of you is a broken sob before you turn around and make a run for the elevator, as fast as you can run in heels and a floor-length cocktail dress.

Steve runs after you, but there are too many people around that slow him down, and by the time he gets to the elevator the doors had just closed.

He waits to see where you would stop, assuming your shared floor but you never know. His eyebrows furrow in confusion and he pushes the button of the elevator, glad that he waited a second more.

When he gets to the roof it's so dark outside that it takes a second before he find you, and once he does he slowly gets close to you.

What he was not expecting was to find you sitting on the ground, hugging your knees and crying.

Steve sits down next to you and puts his arm around your shoulders wordlessly while you cry.

After you calmed down a bit he says "He’s really worried about you, Y/N. If there’s something going on, you should just tell him. He’ll understand…"

You think about it for a few minutes while you find a way to tell Steve what's going on.

"How do you tell someone that the reason you’re sad is because you love them?" you say with tears starting to form again in your eyes.

Steve can only stare at you, at a loss for words. 

You hear something behind you and when you turn you see Bucky’s back, walking towards the elevator.

It doesn’t matter how long he was there for, he obviously heard you.

You look back at Steve that has an apologetic look on his face, confirming your fear. Damn super soldier hearing.

Well, it looks like your friendship with Bucky is officially dead.

Part 2

[leighlew3]

I HAVE SO MANY THOUGHTS ABOUT THE MARVELS.

But I’ll refrain from direct spoilers for now. It’s mildly spoiler-y maybe but very generalized and I’m gonna talk around some stuff. 😅

The nutshell?

It’s legit SO fun. It’s a fun, funny as hell, really ENJOYABLE time at the movies. I laughed. Got misty. Felt feels. And wow… THE CAMEOS!!! 🔥

This movie is for everybody. Families should have a great time. But fangirls especially will LOVE. Highly recommend for a SMILE. 😸

Cool action. Great music. Lovable cast (I will adore Iman Vellani as Kamala Khan forever). Laugh out loud moments. I loved it. It didn’t unnecessarily waste time nor stretch anything out. It’s just under 2 hours and it WORKS.

Look, yeah it’s blah blah random plot lore lore etc but it opens up for the future while giving a blast of a ride in the present (and nods to the past). 😉

Go. Now. 👍

And stay for the mid-credit scene!

Lastly, IMO, it’s all very queer coded. Baity even. THAT 🎶 scene was the one iffy thing for me. Kinda silly, and really felt like a “no homo” for the straights but a wink wink and super coded for the LGBTQs. “Marriage of convenience” … 🤐💀 Anyway it’s pretty clear Carol and Valkyrie definitely hooked up. And we all know Maria was so totally her partner before, because come on already… Monica is her dang daughter, that “Aunt” shit ain’t flyin’. And Kamala is hardcore CRUSHIN’ on Carol. 😂

Also one of the cameos at the end. Of all characters they chose the one people are also shipping with another female character, played by an actress beloved by the sapphics for her previous queer roles? And the cats?! So many cats. 💀 Plus Valkyrie in a suit? SAPPHICS RISE.

This entire movie was a whole fruit basket but in a way that slides past heteronormative audiences so “families can still enjoy” (🙄) but that’s a whole other ramble (or rant) for another day.

In the meantime… it’s so fun, y’all. Please GO. It’s important to support projects like these or they’ll keep pulling back on women and POC in these things. Even though the strike impacted promotion and the butthurt fragile misogynists are trying to review bomb (as always). It’s legit a fun time and if you hated it I have to just assume you hate fun, so. Go. See it. Spread the word. 🙏

[imwritesometimes]

I get so tired of feeling like shit for giving myself "break" days and even weeks at this point. I'm tired of feeling like shit for giving myself a little buffer time after a really bad episode when I know if I didn't I'd end up back in a hospital but I feel lazy for not pushing myself all the fckn time 😞

[thepastdied]

No Filter p.2

Eddie munson × fem!reader

S M U T. MDNI. 18+. EIGHTEEN. PLUS. GOT IT!?

Word count: 2.7k

previous part <--

You stood in your kitchen with a fresh cup of punch in your hand. You trailed inside shortly after Eddie left to the bathroom, desperately needing a cold drink to calm your nerves. You winced with each sip of your drink, wishing you just opted for a beer instead. 

Eddie had been gone for not even ten minutes and you tried to not think about what he was doing in there. Maybe he was kidding about jerking off? He definitely didn't seem like it. You looked down at your cup and ran your fingers through the droplets of condensation.

Meanwhile, Eddie was sitting on the bathroom floor, legs spread out and hand still on his belt buckle.

"This is ridiculous…" He mumbled. 

He couldn't get his belt undone.

Eddie had busted into the bathroom and slammed the door shut, ripping away at his belt so he could bust a quick one. And it's already been five minutes with no luck.

He palmed himself through his jeans and whined, closing his eyes and laying his head on his shoulder. His hands felt like jelly, fingers unable to loop into his belt and unravel it.

He groaned and smacked a hand on the floor before gripping his hands onto the sink and clumsily pulling himself up.

Eddie stared at himself in the mirror for a second, mouth formed into a small o and eyes squinting.

"You.." He pointed at himself. "are hot." He leaned forward and kissed the mirror before cackling. "She totally thinks you're hot…"

He let out an exaggerated sigh before fumbling with the door handle, pushing his weight on it a little too hard as the door swung open. He tripped forward and caught himself, breathing out a puff of air in relief.

You saw a glimpse of Eddie walk by the kitchen doorway as he exited the bathroom, quickly following him and grabbing his hand.

His head whipped around so fast that he winced and held his head, blinking a few times.

You giggled, slapping his arm when his eyes focused on you and he whistled, dramatically looking you up and down.

"Well hellloooo-"

"Eddie… no more drinking." You sternly held eye contact as he nodded and a smirk appeared on his lips.

"I mean it, Munson!"

"Okay, okay… jeeeeeeez.." He held his hand you weren't holding up and pulled you toward the front door.

"Wanna go for a walk with you…" He leaned his head down toward you, swallowing down a laugh when he saw some pink spread across your face.

The night breeze felt cool against your hot face and you took a few deep breaths. You were itching to talk about earlier, but should wait until the morning. But you really.. really wanted to-

"So you're crushin' on me, huh?" Eddie grinned and bumped his arm against yours, swaying your hands back and forth and bouncing his feet with each step.

You scoffed and looked away from him, your eyes trailing along the many cars parked along the secluded street. The houses were pretty far apart, only lining one side of the street. 

"I mean, that's fine if you are.. cause I'm totally crushin' on you too." He laughed from his throat, smiling wide and feeling giddy.

You stopped walking and pulled him from the street, standing more toward where the cars are parked near the trees.

"Eddie…" You bashfully smiled and looked at him through your eyelashes.

"y/n…" He said back, tone mimicking yours and eyelashes batting.

He held both of your hands and pulled you a little closer, thumbs rubbing over your knuckles.

"Yeah.. you could say I've been crushin' on you. I didn't know you…" You shut your eyes and sighed. "I feel bad, Eddie. I didn't know you felt the same way. I kinda just… ruled it out-"

"Well.. I have, sweetheart. For a while actually.." He cleared his throat. "I uh…" His head tilted back as he looked at the night sky, trying to give his head a moment so he could speak clearly. His mind was still fuzzy.

"Since Robin and Steve introduced us at the Hideout…" He smiled and you watched the stars sparkle in his eyes as he observed them.

You were in awe and couldn't speak, so he continued. 

"Never felt that way before… God, you looked so damn pretty."  Eddie's eyes trailed down to you, head still leaned back.

"You were wearin' that light blue sundress… hah, stood out like a fuckin' sore thumb in that place."

"Eddie…" You whispered, biting onto your bottom lip as you felt your eyes sting and warmth spread across your chest.

"I didn't think you'd like someone like me.." You looked down and played with his rings.

"Why wouldn't I!?" He scoffed, eyes narrowing. 

"Because I'm not that very pr-"

"If you say it, I'm gonna…" He pursed his lips and frantically looked around before spotting a tree branch and ripping a few leaves off. "- I'm gonna shove this in your mouth." He raised his eyebrows, waiting to see if you dared to even finish your sentence.

He hated when you talked bad about your appearance, because he loved absolutely everything about you. He just never got to say it with each time you'd complain about an outfit or how your hair was styled that day. 

Your eyes widened and you watched him as he stilled, waiting for you to speak with a face that said 'don't test me'.

"Because I'm- hey!!" You squealed when he lunged forward, covering your mouth with your hands and giggling as he grabbed you.

You bumped into one of the cars and Eddie grabbed your waist to steady you, both of your laughs bubbling in your chest.

"Ahhh you're just so dang cute, look at you.." He moved one hand from your waist and pinched your cheek.

You groaned and shoved your face into his chest. Eddie hummed and placed a hand onto the back of your head, intertwining his fingers in your hair. You pulled your head up, chin still resting against his chest, gazing at his lips. 

"You hungry or somethin'?" He snickered at you before you rolled your eyes and sat back against the car.

"Kinda.." You mumbled while glancing at his lips again, immediately feeling your ears get hot at your boldness.

He smirked, scrunching his nose before leaning down and lightly pecking you on the lips.

"Sorry, sweets. Gonna have to pay up if you want somethin' real." He crossed his arms and winked, eyes lazy and smile lopsided. 

You frowned at him before going on your toes to kiss his cheek, feeling his lips pull into a grin.

You pulled back and looked at him expectantly. He raised his eyebrows and tilted his head to the other side. You rolled your eyes and kissed the other side just before he grabbed your jaw and crashed his lips to yours. 

He was, somehow, really good at kissing for someone who was inexperienced. He knew exactly what to do, and it made you so fucking wet when he ran his hand down your wide so rest just above your ass. You could taste the alcohol still strong on his tongue.

Eddie moaned into your mouth when you pulled his hair at the base of his neck, dragging him down closer to you as he roughly grabbed your ass. You shifted on your feet to rub your thighs together, your wetness already soaking through your panties. He shoved himself further against you and you could feel his dick pressing painfully against his jeans. You whined when he kissed down to your jaw and your ear, his hips moving into yours as you lifted one leg.

"Oh fuck-" He groaned and grabbed onto your thigh that was hiked up on his waist before aggressively picking you up and sitting you down on the hood of whoevers car that was.

"I'm gonna fuck you- right on this car.." He chuckled as he sloppily kissed your neck and fumbled with his belt.

All the air that was in your lungs was sucked out. God, you ached so, so bad. You could have came just from the view- his hair was a mess, lips swollen, face slightly pink, leather jacket hanging off one shoulder, and his t-shirt all stretched from you grabbing at it.

"Stupid fuckin-" 

You leaned forward and swatted his hands out of the way, fervently undoing his belt and reaching your hand into his pants, palming him through his boxers a bit before dipping your fingers into the waistband.

Eddie slumped forward and loudly slapped his hands on the hood of the car, arms caging you in. His face was just inches from yours, eyes screwed shut as you began to pump him.

"I-if you keep doin' that I might… Uhhh fuck.. might cum.." He panted as you gave him a few more strokes.

He pulled away from you and scowled when you seductively laughed and nibbled his neck.

"Fuckin minx-" He grabbed your legs and pushed them up onto the car, spreading your thighs open before shoving his face into your pussy.

You shrieked and grabbed onto his hair, body falling back onto the hood of the car. He hushed you before his fingers pulled your panties to the side, mouthing and licking at your pussy like he was depraved. You covered your mouth with one of your hands to muffle your moans, thighs trembling as he smoothed his hands over your thighs and groaned into you.

He pulled back and lifted his shirt to wipe his mouth. You swallowed when your eyes raked down his bare torso before meeting his eyes as he hovered over you.

"Gotta make this quick, baby… don't know who's car this is." He huffed a nervous laugh and yelped when you pulled him into you by his jacket, exploring his mouth with your tongue as he groaned.

You reached down to his dick again and slid yourself down, rolling your hips against his leaking tip. He grunted when you took the tip in.

"W-wait. I don't have a con-"

"Birth control." You mumbled against his mouth before taking him in, wanton moans coming out of your throat.

"Oh oka- Holy fuuuuuuck." He choked out a groan and dropped his face into your neck, panting with each roll of your hips.

Eddie suddenly felt self conscious. He didn't know what to do. What if he thrusted the wrong way? Was he too small? Maybe he should just eat you out instead. Wait- unless he's bad at that too. This is a bad idea-

"y/n…" He whimpered.

"F-feel so good, Eds… so deep.." You grabbed onto the back of his neck, sultry moans coming out of your lips right in his ear.

"Yeah..? Y-you like it? Really?" He perked his head up, some confidence pooling in his chest as he let out a low, rough moan that bubbled out from his chest. He roamed his hands around your body, grabbing at your tits and sucking on the swell that popped out of your bra.

"Ah.. God… uh-huh… love it." 

Eddie pulled his body away from you, your arms moving down to his forearms as his fingers dug into your hips. He slowly grinded against you, watching as your face twisted when you panted and moaned his name. 

He clenched his jaw as he sharply fucked into you. You yelped in pleasure and he stilled, arms trembling before he did it again, and again, and again.

"It's s-so wet… all f'me? — uh-huh? God… ohgodohgod— fuck.. you love it–" He purred.

"Shit i-... Jesus I t-think I'm close–"

"Wrap your legs around me, baby"

"F-fuck you're so b…beautiful"

The car was rocking back and forth, squeaking with each hard thrust of his cock into you. He grunted, and groaned, and growled. His erratic breathing matching with yours, it was a great sight. You were so, so close.. 

"Eddie you're.. so, s-so good… I wanna.. ughhh wanna cum on your— ohh-" You felt the coil tighten.

"Oh.. my… god.. you- you just got so tight–" He rasped, breath getting caught in his throat and eyes widening. 

Eddie's thrusts got sloppier the closer you got to your peak, his erratic breathing abruptly stopping before he fell forward and began relentlessly fucking you through both of your highs.

He gasped out a strangled moan as he rocked the car back and forth, your legs wrapping around his waist as you mewled and babbled praises into his ear.

"Please…tell me that this isn't a dream.." He mumbled, eyes closed and mouth slightly open. 

His chest heaved as his body went limp on you, face nuzzling into your neck and kissing a trail up to your lips. 

"It's very real, Eds. You just drank like.. a lot." You snorted out a laugh and kissed his chin as he grinned at you. 

"Still feel all fuzzy n'shit.." He hissed as he pulled out of you. 

He pulled off his jacket and used the black and red plaid undershirt to stop the cum from dripping from your thighs. You twitched when he touched your leg and he looked at you, panic apparent on his face.

"No-no it's fine. Just sensitive.." You waved your hand and smiled when his face twisted into realization, nodding as he cleaned you up.

Eddie hummed as he leaned into you, a dopey smile on his face as you grabbed his cheeks to pull him in for a kiss as he clasped his hands behind his back.

"Your fucked out face is s'pretty~" His eyes sparkled as he looked down at you, your hands still on his cheeks.

You scrunched your nose and jumped when you heard a loud laugh, whipping around to see Robin walking down the street in your direction, yelling a way too loud "bye bitch" to Steve.

Eddie's eyes bulged out as he quickly smoothed out your dress and threw his jacket back on, bunching up the shirt he used as a cum rag and stuffing it under his arm. 

"Oh- Hey guys!" Robin waved over to you as she came up to the car, pulling out her keys.

"I-is this… your car?" You slowly lifted your hand and pointed to the vehicle.

"Yep! You know how I finally got my license last month? Welp- finally got this bad boy. Was gonna surprise you-" She slapped her hand on the roof and smoothed her hand over the surface, looking at it fondly and smiling to herself.

"It's awfully squeaky– ow!"

You elbowed Eddie in the ribs before pushing him aside to walk over to Robin, casually talking to her about the car before she made her departure.

" 'It's awfully squeaky'– really?! " You stomped up to him and bit your cheek when he doubled over, cackling like it's the funniest thing in the world. 

"You're… so weird." You cringed at him before grinning ear to ear.

"Mhm…" He sighed dramatically and stretched his arms, looking at the sky and then down to you, and then back to the sky again.

"Can't believe that out of aaaaaaaall these stars, I got the best one." He gave you a silly smile and poked your nose before kissing it.

You whined at his cheesy-ness before giving him a quick kiss and pulling him back toward your house.

"We should shower once everyone leaves… all sticky and sweaty and yucky-"

"We?" His jaw dropped and his eyes widened as you nodded and smirked.

He let go of your hand and started running up the walkway and into your house.

"Alright everyone! Party is over! Get the fuck out!" His arms were sweeping across the air in the direction of the front door.

You gaped at him and put a hand to your head.

"Eddie!?" 

"You got like- 10 seconds!"

"Come on, come on, yep, move your legs- that's what they're for–"

Everyone filtered out of your home as you stood there in shock, watching as Eddie bowed at the front door before slamming the door shut and spinning on his heels to face you.

"Let's take a shower, sweetheart." He smugly smiled as you licked your lips.

×

Taglist:

@thegirlthatsfalling @hahahafucku @bibieddiesgf @chrissymjstan @eddiesprincess86 @tatianah26

Uhm sorry to the several people I couldn't tag- couldn't find the username

[sl-vega]

ʚɞ UPCOMING WORKS

↳ a list of all my upcoming bluelock fics this month! (i may add more) so let me know if you wanna be tagged in them, I won't tag anyone directly in this post due to tumblr's limitations, but i will take note of your user, i will still check if tagging you is possible and i will let you know if there are any issues with tagging you, also if you change your user right before one of the fics comes out, please let me know. everything here is first come first serve! (not that i think any of the taglists will get filled up)

❀˖° SCARY? MY GOD YOU'RE DIVINE

╰┈➤ pairing(s): Itoshi Rin, Hiori Yo x [GN!] Reader

In which your boyfriend hates the way he looks due to his uncanny resemblance to some of their family members that they aren't exactly fond of, but you're here to assure them that they're perfect just the way they are.

(3/30) taglist: @/hellothere9597, @/zestyseggsydaddy69, @/peepeepopoooo

ꨄ︎ FAKE THAT LOVE!

╰┈➤ pairing(s): Itoshi Rin x [FEM!] Reader, Shidou Ryusei x Sae Itoshi

rin's older brother is coming back from college just in time for the itoshi family's thanksgiving dinner, and with a boyfriend in tow, so naturally, like the spiteful little shit he is, he decides to get you to pretend to be his girlfriend to one up sae. (tldr; rin is petty, so he gets his friend that he may or may not have feelings for to be his fake girlfriend, and family shenanigans ensue

(2/30) taglist: @/hellothere9597, @/peepeepopoooo

༘⋆✿ BOY CRAZY FOR A CRAZY BOY

╰┈➤ pairing: Shidou Ryusei x [FEM!] Reader

being rin's childhood best friend, you've naturally grown fond of his older brother, sae, a sentiment that you've carried far into your adulthood like the hopeless romantic you are (much to rin's dismay) so after practically begging the poor boy to set you up with his brother, he begrudgingly agrees. but what happens next when you arrive at sae's apartment, only to find his crazy roommate? and what happens when you start to fall for him instead?!

(1/30) taglist: @/peepeepopoooo

𝜗𝜚 FIRST DATE FOR THE SECOND TIME

╰┈➤ pairing: Karasu Tabito x [FEM!] Reader

after karasu accidentally ghosted you without explanation after leaving for bluelock for a few months, it's safe to say that you assumed he dumped you. but what's worse is that you suddenly see him on tv playing in the blue lock vs u-20 match. but suddenly, after traveling to shibuya to take your mind off of him, you happen to run into the same stupid crow that broke your heart again. but part of you wants to try again with him, so will ya' give him a chance?

(2/30) taglist: @/peepeepopoooo, @/eloniezv

✿-INEFFABLE BUREAUCRACY-✿

╰┈➤ pairing(s): Itoshi Rin x [GN!] Reader

campaigning season has come to an end, and with a heavy heart, you had to accept the fact that you lost the student council election to the ever so lovely rin itoshi, but during lunch, your former rival pulls you aside for a personal matter. now what ever could it be? (or in which two so-called "enemies" get over themselves and finally realize that they could be more than just rivals)

(3/30) taglist: @/hellothere9597, @/zestyseggsydaddy69, @/peepeepopoooo

๋࣭ ⭑⚝ CAFE CRUSHIN'

╰┈➤ pairing: Karasu Tabito x [BARISTA!] Reader

after the recent Blue Lock 11 VS Japan's U-20 game took the world by storm, a certain Karasu Tabito had caught your attention, not that you're expecting anything to come from your little crush, there's no way you'd actually meet him in person,....right? spoiler alert!: turns out that you do, and now you're face-to-face with your so-called celebrity crush, and your co-workers aren't helping that matter

(2/30) taglist: @/peepeepopoooo, @/eloniezv

[pygmi-cygni]

Cold Feet - sickfic w joel miller

@chaithetics this is for you! xox feel better

cw: general injury/sickness recovery fic, nothing graphic but mentions of nausea, pain, dizziness, fainting, cute stuff idk, not really established relationship but joel be crushin fr fr

The dingy wallpaper swam in lazy eddies. You'd been laying on the couch, curled in the fetal position for hours, staring listlessly at the badly stained floral walls. The faded roses and lilies were swaying in an imaginary wind, fluttering in the woozy aftereffects of the pain meds.

It had only been an hour since your last dose, but you still felt like a rusted knife had ripped through your abdomen. A combination of a bad knife wound and the subsequent infection had incapacitated you for all of yesterday and today. If you had any rational thought, you'd be bored stupid. Instead, you were just drugged stupid.

Honestly, not much of a difference.

After staggering home from the med tent, you laid your meds, water, and two tureens of watery broth. That way, you didn't have to stumble to the kitchen every time you got hungry. Though even turning over to fumble with the pill bottle set fire to your belly.

The darkness of sleep sucked your mind into nothing as you blissfully lost consciousness.

Shhp. Shhhhp. Shhhh-

the sliding of something across your floor stirred your syrupy mind. Wincing as bright sunlight stabbed your aching head, you tried to focus blearily on the figure in front of you.

He - you assumed - was dressed in heavy clothes and grunting like a wounded bear.

"Joel?" Your voice sounded hideous, creaking like the wind in the trees. His familiar mop of curls startled, and he turned to look at you. He looked mildly ashamed, you thought, like a child caught with his hand in the cookie jar.

"Hey, sugar," he rasped, pausing what he was doing to limp over. "Didn't mean to wake ya."

You tried to raise your head but another sludgy wave of pain forced you to mash your face in the cushions. A pathetic whimper was muffled by the corduroy.

"You look a little rough, honey," he said, stooping to brush the hair from your face. You flinched a little at the sudden contact, sparks lighting at the point of contact.

Joel soothed an apology and went to close the blinds. "Tommy said you were down for the count, so I thought I'd stop by," he said hoarsely, blessedly dimming the light to darkness. You sagged with relief. Joel's soothing drawl rambled about his day while he sick-proofed your little room; placing a metal bowl for easy reach, grabbing a blanket from the adjacent bedroom, and replacing your water with fresh, cool water.

"Let me," he whispered, carefully maneuvering you into the sitting position so you could have some slow sips of broth. The movement made your chest throb, and you huffed in pain. A soothing hand stroked your hair. You could smell him, woodsy and warm on his flannel. Trembling from the roiling pain of your wound, you tucked yourself against his broad chest. Joel took the hint, and gently placed a pill in your open mouth.

You felt a little embarrassed, being this dependent on him to do something as simple as drink soup. You tried to voice your apology, but your weak state jumbled the sentence into slurred mumbles. Joel shushed you, rubbing your shoulder.

"'S alright," he murmured, "happy to help." Easing a drink of blissfully cool water down your throat, he gently lifted you and headed towards your bedroom. The light bouncing made you wince, but the soft brushed of his lips on your hair eased any discomfort.

"You'll feel better on a real bed."

You groaned weakly when your head hit the pillow. Joel tucked the sheets and blankets all the way to your chin, eyes soft and worried. "You been out a while, huh, baby?"

At your weak agreement he nodded and continued to smooth his hand over your sweaty brow.

"We'll fix ya up, don' worry about it," he assured, kissing the tears from your cheeks.

Lighting a sweet-smelling candle, he murmured a goodnight and left for evening patrol.

Hours later, he came trudging back. The gentle creak of the wardrobe as he hung up his jacket and rifle roused you, but only slightly. His warm touch and the feeling of his chest against your back rolled you right back under.

[sixteenth-days]

Zombie grian as a prompt? :D

"Alright, calm down," Grian said irritably, the words punctuated by the crack of his shoulder snapping back into his socket. At least it didn't really hurt; there was only a dull ache, quickly fading. "It's not that big a deal."

"Not that big a- you're dead!" Mumbo was white as a sheet, pacing erratically back and forth between the narrow walls of the underground room. He was wringing his hands together restlessly, fidgeting with the cuffs of his sleeves.

"Well, yes, but I'm fine," Grian said, a statement that was somewhat undercut by one of his crushed fingers falling to the ground with a wet noise. "Ugh. Mumbo, you couldn't have chosen a cleaner method of getting my soul out?"

Mumbo looked rather like he was about to cry. "I thought you would just respawn! I didn't think it mattered! Oh, no. Oh, this is so bad."

Grian rolled his eyes, and abruptly found himself in the very uncomfortable situation of having to tip his head back to keep one of them from falling out of his skull. Oh, really? Really?

After another minute or two of frantic pacing, Mumbo said, "Do you... do you think I can give it back?"

"Yes, let's put you in the crushinator, shall we?" Grian snapped, holding the loose eyeball in place with his less-damaged hand.

Mumbo hesitated, looking visibly unenthusiastic. "...Do you think that would fix it?"

"No, I don't think that would fix it," Grian said. "Or at the very least I'm not willing to risk it. Can you pick up my finger, there? I still can't bend over all the way, my spine's all out of whack."

Mumbo, looking nauseous, did so. "Grian, I feel... very bad about this-"

"Well, good," Grian said, slipping the finger into his pocket. "You can help me explain what you've done to Cleo when I go ask her if I can borrow her sewing kit."

Mumbo looked, if possible, even more ill at the thought.