#I would genuinely go back and read his stuff over no doubt

[marwhoa]

request: You write the turtles boys so well! I literally can't stop smiling when I read your fics - they're so sweet and endearing. I was wondering, only if it strikes your interest of course, if you'd consider writing about the boys being jealous of each other when the reader spends time with them one on one? Like, maybe a slot for Leo where he thinks reader finds Donnie funnier? Or one for mikey, where he thinks that reader likes how big raph is? Or for raph, where he thinks reader is more enamored with Leo? Or Donnie, where he worries that Mikey is flirting with reader? Of course they're all misunderstandings, and maybe it could end all fluffy with confessions and comforting their respective boy? If not, don't worry, but if so, thank you! 1 look forward to whatever you put out next.

🝮 “ green with envy ”

rise!boys x y/n

author’s note: screaming profusely !!! eeeee !!! So hey yeah here’s a fic, this took a while because it sat in my notes for days before I finally posted it, my bad. This was kinda hard cause I’m not experienced in the realm of jealousy—hopefully y’all like it? ᗡ: also does envy even fit this scenario? Lmao I just be naming these fics any thing, can y’all tell?

word count: 6.1k

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Leo 💌

Leo never expected he could ever become… jealous, not him—no, no, NEVER him. He had too much pride, too much confidence. There should have never been any room for doubt in his ability to keep you focused and adoring on him, and him alone.

But, perhaps he had given himself too much credit? Or, maybe he had given his twin too little credit.

It wasn’t as though you were his. Just friends, and technically that meant you belonged to the whole family, not just him. But, no one could blame him for coveting you. From how starry-eyed you looked at him to how genuinely you laughed at his jokes, Leo found out too late that he had been falling for you, and here he was still falling. The way your nose crinkled when you laughed, or how your face lit up during Mikey’s dinner times, even down to the wheezing laugh you would give into if he pushed his jokes on too long, all of it spelled out lovely disaster for his heart.

But, fear not, he thought. He was the face man and the funniest turtle, surely there was no competition? No one could be better than him at getting you to make the faces you did.

Or well, it should’ve been no one. He wasn’t even all that funny, but Donnie managed to get you to keel over to some stuff he said—and he didn’t even intend for them to be jokes! A natural comic, can you believe the nerve of this guy?

So, yeah, Leo never expected himself to be jealous, and especially never towards his own brother, but god the way you were showing that tickled-silly expression to Donnie, wiping tears as he confusedly asked what was so funny? It had him gripping the arm of their couch, digging his nails into them. He wasn’t going to take this any longer! Sure Donnie meant no harm and would never try to swoop in and steal the prize he had his eye on, but Leo couldn’t help but still be… aggravated.

The pent-up annoyance was dispelled by the red-slider leaping over the couch, sassily walking over and snaking his arm across your waist.

“ Yeah, whatever, Donnie is sooo funny, but hey, Y/N, let me show you something better! ”

Never mind the fact that he had nothing planned as he twirled his katana in his other hand, slicing the air until a blue portal shimmered into existence. You glanced back and waved good bye to Donnie, fully intrigued by whatever it was Leo wanted to show you.

“ Oh—okay! What is it? ”

“ Who am I to ruin a surprise? ”

He cocked a brow at your question, tugging you through the portal and stepping out into the courtyard of the Witch’s city. While amazed, you wondered just what this had to do with anything—but, of course that was a comment you would keep to yourself until having fully exhausted the excitement of exploring not just any random town, but rather a town of witches!

“ Oh, Leo, finally! I’ve been begging you to bring me here for weeks! ”

Before he could even say anything, you were quickly rushing up to the nearest shop and sparking up conversation. Such a busy bee, but it was just another aspect of you he was captivated by. However, with such an impromptu visit to a rather overwhelming area, he found chances to spark conversation and get you to laugh to be stretched few and far between.

“ Oh wow, this store really doesn’t leave mushroom for walk-through, huh? ”

He gestured to a potions-ingredients shop, which, you guessed it, specialized in all things fungal-based. His shoulders drooped as you continued ahead, not even hearing him. That joke was gold! Huffing, Leo caught up with you and laced his fingers around your wrist, effortlessly stopping you in your tracks.

“ Mm? Leo? ”

You stared up at him with such a look of focus, all your attention finally fully on him, and he had to fight his legs not to reduce to jelly instantly. Instead, he took a deep breath, cocked his head, and insisted you follow him.

Down weaving alleys, through crowds of people, eventually you reached a park unlike any seen on the surface. The paths were lined with thick, luscious plants cultivated through the town’s magic. Foliage swayed with no wind, as though dancing like silk fabric to whatever music only they heard.

Your attention only left the plants when you heard Leo start clearing his throat and then flashing you a look that you recognized all too well. A grin was already tugging at your lips, and Leo finally felt like he was the only one in your world again. His hands held onto his belt and he kicked out his legs, faking as though he were tipping a hat. It seemed like some western cowboy impersonation?

“ What in carnation? ”

There you went, first with a light and short laugh.

“ Well I do say, I took a leaf of faith bringing you here,”

Which then melded into a series, topped with a “ Wait, Leo, hush—please! ”, all stuttered and peppered through your increasing laughter.

“—but, beleaf it or not—“

He wasn’t even able to finish the entire spiel before you were holding onto him, laughing with such a melodious voice. Which, of course, devolved into your trademark wheeze n’snort after dragging on too long.

“ Pwffhaaha!! Leo, wha-what’s with you today? ”

You wiped away a tear, and suddenly Leo was finally brought back to reality. Your hand on his forearm lingered, and he was just completely beside himself with how the glowing willows beside the garden softened your face ever-so-perfectly.

“ Y/N… ”

His voice was so uncharacteristically soft that it had you a tad bit spooked, hand gripping a teensy tighter. Your head cocked slightly in confusion.

“ I.. Ugh, okay, it’s—it’s dumb! But—“

He dragged his hands down his face, groaning exhaustedly.

“ I thought, maybe, you might’ve… Liked Donnie, more than me. ”

“ Huh? Why would you think that, I love all of you guys? ”

“ Yeah, but I love you, and—“

The shock painted on your face had him holding his breath. Alarms went off in his head, telling him he maybe should have held his tongue, not jumped ahead so quickly. The two of you searched each other’s eyes in silence, you recovering from what he said, and him preparing himself for what you would say. Soon enough, your face twisted into a confusion tinged with a bit of playfulness.

“ Wait a second.. You’re jealous, aren’t you? Of Donnie? What for? ”

“ What? What do you mean what for? You, you’ve been laughing at everything he said all day, don’t you think he’s funnier? Don’t you like him more?! ”

If it weren’t his dumb puns and act earlier, it was this that would do you in.

“ Leo, you dummy! Sure I was laughing, but that doesn’t mean I like him more than you, I just, well… ”

It was your turn to be a bit bashful as your eyes looked everywhere except him.

“ I, well.. You’re my favorite, Leo, not Donnie.. ”

As you batted your eyes at him, hoping he would connect the dots thoroughly, your answer was given in the form of his beaming expression as he swept you into his arms, spinning.

“ Ah-hah! So you do like me—and I’m the funnier turtle!? ”

“ Oh no, I shouldn’t have said anything, now you’re too powerful! ”

Playfully you cried, leaning back with your hand dramatically draped across your forehead. Leo chuckled at your antics leaning in to lay his head against your stomach as he tightened his hold firmly.

This was definitely something he would rub in his brother’s face later on—and said brother would be profusely confused by what brought it on???

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Mikey 💌

Mikey was the last turtle you ever considered could suffer from the classic ailment of “ jealousy ”, and you couldn’t help but feel both ashamed yet intrigued.

While you weren’t too sure what it was that had got him so riled up, you were observant enough to see the way his eyes lit up with a startling emotion. At first it was impossible to pinpoint, just a glimpse of something indiscernible yet startling that crept into his blue hues at the oddest of times.

The first time you had seen that frightful emotion peek its head was during a date. The two of you had decided to hit a bar late at night, him donning a cloaking brooch, of course.

When you arrived, the loud music was entrancing, luring you both onto the dance floor to get lost in each other’s arms. The music coiled around you both, closing the gap to a suffocatingly tight end, as if either of you couldn’t stand any sort of distance apart. The floor vibrated, from both the booming speakers and the music reverberating the whole building alongside the dancing bodies around you both.

Mikey beamed with the brightest smile, and you just knew he was laughing, albeit drowned out from the ambiance. You were both having the time of your lives. Absorbed into a bubble fit for only the two of you, eyes locked on each other, neither party was ready for the stranger’s hands that snaked around your waist, pulling you in without any mind paid to you already having a devoted dance partner.

Chills set in and you turned to Mikey instantly, locking eyes, but the look in his eyes was enough to have your voice hitch in your throat.

That night ended with you both getting kicked out after Mikey wailed on the guy, but after a while, you both laughed and talked all about the fight on the way home.

The next time you saw that look was when you were hanging out with Leo while waiting for Mikey to return back from patrol. He had invited you over, and you planned to do it after wrapping up a few things, so he figured he could finish a patrol and be ready for you when you got done.

Unfortunately for him, you happened to finish your escapade much too early, and thus were at the lair awaiting his return. Leo happened to pass by, so you roped him into a conversation to bide the time. When Mikey did eventually come home, he stepped in to see you nearly keeled over in laughter.

You had been laughing so hard that when you noticed Mikey, you gave a weak wave and continued dying. He was curious what the joke was, but Leo simply shook his head and left, his own laugh dwindling down the hall. Once you recovered and were on your feet, you caught that same scary emotion swirling in his eyes. He tightened his lips and only softened when he turned to you.

More and more questions arose as you came to experience this look time and time again in all kinds of situations, but the one that finally made all the clicks pop into place was his outburst after you were with Raph.

He had been taking care of some villains on patrol with Mikey when you had ended up in the wrong place, wrong time. Their battle had turned to a violent one, with the villain bashed straight into a wall. Debris crumbled down right as you turned the corner, eyes shooting up to see parts of the building falling towards you. There was no time to move, so you just closed your eyes shut right and braced yourself.

But, no pain ever came, just a bit of dust. You opened your eyes, seeing a huge shadow casted over your body, and when you looked up?

It was Raph, who blocked the falling debris with his mighty shell.

“ Raph! “

You yelped, heart thundering in your chest, and Mikey misunderstood the shimmer in your eyes as Raph rose to full height, throwing the concrete off and away. He misinterpreted why you hugged him so tightly when he scooped you up, taking you away from the damage and ushering you to run the other way.

When you’re focusing on the wrong things, it’s easy to get the signs wrong, and boy had the ache in Mikey’s heart got everything so totally wrong. You liked Raph, didn’t you? Why else would you look at him like that? Did you like it when folks were bigger than you, unlike him who simply had an inch or two on you?

How could he be so stupid?

So, that’s how you ended up where you were now, seconds from entering your apartment when Mikey met you with a sour look on his face. You noticed that same glint in his eyes, still trying to piece together what it meant.

“ Why didn’t you tell me? ”

His voice wavered, and you responded with a hum of confusion. Inviting him in, he closed the door behind you both. His lips tugged down as he searched everywhere for the words to say. Finally, he found them and settled back on you as you were putting things down and unwinding.

“ With Raph! You like him, don’t you?! ”

“ Wha? ”

“ You—You! ”

He seemed frustrated, wracking his brain until finally he threw his hands out and shouted.

“ DO YOU LOVE RAPH MORE BECAUSE HE’S SO BIG?! ”

Silence blanketed you both as you processed his words. Finally, you placed a word on the emotion you always saw in his eyes. Struggling not to laugh at the absurdity, you snorted and shook your head.

“ Jealousy! That’s wh—wait, no, Mikey, no, I don’t ‘Love Raph cause he’s big’ ”

“ Then why do you like him more!? ”

“ Where is this coming from, Mikey, I don’t like Raph like that—I like you. ”

You stepped closer, and Mikey let you in. Your hands reached up, cupping his cheeks, and he leaned into them with such a desperation that you felt bad for finding this whole situation so silly.

“ Just, you always seem so happy when he’s around, and whenever he saves you instead, you always.. ”

His eyes were elsewhere as he spoke, almost as though he were seeing the absurdity in it all now with a clearer mind.

“ Ahh, mhmm, yup, alright so Mikey usually people are very happy when they’re saved from danger—and I mean, I probably look happy cause I’m friends with him too, but I’m dating you, silly. ”

You booped his snoot, smiling as his eyes lit up with the love you were accustomed to seeing them full of.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Raph 💌

If there was any one of the brothers full of insecurities, it would come as no surprise as the spotlight shone upon the red turtle, atop the winner’s pedestal. As someone who once led his brothers in the face of battle, who grew up with the elder sibling curse of forced parenthood, it came as no shock that there were a couple of problems sprinkled into his character.

While he had spent much of his life up to this point recovering and healing from what dared chip at his exterior, there was more than a few bits of stubborn grime that lingered on his surface. It ate away at him, leaving behind vulnerabilities.

Then you came along, and throughout the honeymoon period he experienced nothing but delights. Never had the negative Nancy in his brain perked up to talk her shit, misleading him in circles until he was a mess of unbundled, tangled up rope.

You were a light, something that seemed to power wash the grime away, cake over it with your delicate touch and sweet words. Much smaller than he, you were probably one of the kindest humans he met, someone he cherished more than life itself.

And that, in and of itself, was a vulnerability. You were his weakness, and the shrewd dark spots in his brain couldn’t wait for the rose-colored glass to shatter and let them sink their teeth into this beauteous opportunity.

The sensible part of him knew your kindness knew no ends, that it wasn’t limited or excluded to simply him or a select few. In fact, your sweet demeanor shared with his brothers? It was a breath of relief—it was an understatement to say he had been nervous to introduce you to the family. You were okay with him because he saved you, but his brothers and father weren’t present. They hadn’t been the heroes slamming down against concrete, scaring away the silverfish that preyed upon you one fateful night.

Turns out the trash-eaters had a hankering for good food, and you, all alone, on your way back home with a doggy-bag from Cleo’s Beach Shack, served to be the perfect target.

The night had been quiet, albeit suspiciously so, but your full tummy and weary limbs had their guard fully down. You daydreamed of the bed awaiting you at home, arms beckoning you forth with pillowy softness.

That delightful image was disturbed by the sudden rustling and clank you heard from behind. Turning, your eyes shooed away dreamland and were alert. An empty can rolled from a bush, tinking into someone’s trash can at the curb. Not a soul in sight, so surely it must have been one of New York’s infamous rats? Y’know, that creature that is practically extinct in this city, like there’s no way you would ever see them—definitely not at the metro nor the coffee shop, and surely never this residential street with primo rat hot-spots such as unsupervised trash cans full of food waste.

Yeah, of course, must have been a rat. You’re so paranoid, just hurry on home, nothing bad will happen. Nothing bad ever happens to pretty little guys like you, alone on dimly lit streets, lined with houses whose doors are locked to high hell.

Nothing bad, especially not like the cold metal that clamped firmly on your ankle. Never anything as worse as the chilling growl from whatever tripped you up, glaring with red eyes and flicking a long, sharp-looking tail.

“ Oh sh—“

Your voice feebly complained, raising into a scream to the heavens above as it lunged towards you.

Or well, towards your to-go bag, but who’s paying attention to the little things like that when your life is flashing before your eyes?

Thankfully, the end never came. There was the sound of a growling struggle after a tremor shook your shivering frame, and as you opened your eyes to peek at whatever held up your attacker, a silhouette towered over you. He casted a long shadow over you, which should have been intimidating as hell, but instead it left you feeling…

Safer?

In his hand laid two identical buggers, squirming and chomping with animalistic hunger. This had to have been worse than the rats, you’d take the rats any day, at least they weren’t massive.

… well okay, they are, but this is a whole ‘nother level.

The most shocking part was this giant hero taking a step back, assuming the position of a pitcher, and launching the creatures into the distance. There may have been a glint shining, and was that the cheer of an audience you were hearing? No, that was your imagination, obviously.

But you were not imagining this guy in front of you. Much too tall to be human, unless it was some basketball lead who somehow had balls of steel to save a stranger.

Every warning sign imaginable was washed away without a trace as your savior turned around and shot a shaky smile, warm as a summer sun.

“ S-Sorry about that, are ya okay? ”

He spoke with the timidness of someone a fourth his size, and you couldn’t help but be completely charmed to death.

From that day you would see him more and more, to the point that it felt as if maybe he had been appointed your personal body guard. Ah, but, you didn’t really mind, did you? You loved his company and his toothy grins. You adored his warm, gentle hugs, and it was too sweet how you could feel his hands tremble as they held yours ever so delicately.

So yeah, he worried to introduce you to his family, but the way you brightened up the room instantly had him starstruck. You’re perfect, that’s it. That’s the tweet.

The rosey glass shattered after a few lingering months of dating. His insecurities reared their heads, resting sharp grips on his shoulders as they whispered in his ears all kinds of falsities. You liked his brothers, but maybe you liked his brothers? Why else would you be so nice to them?

And, maybe that’s why you were smiling at Leo like that? Raph is right here, so why were you talking to his brother? He couldn’t even focus enough to heard you both holding the most mundane conversation ever about some shop that opened up over on Moore’s. He steeped in the tea of jealousy, filling his senses to the brim with worry.

The worst part about it was that if you liked Leo, he couldn’t even blame you. Leo was like water, while Raph was stone. Raph stood still, he could be bossy at times, while Leo was a spunky little river that would keep you on your toes. Leo was never boring, and he could keep a smile on your face for as long as the day lasted..

But he didn’t want any of that to be true. None of it.

The conversation was stopped by a meek voice asking for your time, attention shifting from Brother Blue to your beloved, clad in what became your favorite color in these past few months.

“ Y/N, can we talk? ”

Ignoring Leo’s nudge and teasing “ ooooooohs ”, you nodded with a smile, following Raph with a pep in your step.

“ Of course, dear. ”

That lead to the silence you currently shared—with him leaning against the wall of his room, gaze fixated on some smudges on the floor. That should be cleaned up, he thought, trying to not think of how you were sat on his bed, awaiting whatever it was he needed off his chest.

“ Raph? ”

You were the first to talk, already well acquainted with your love’s tiptoeing when it came to any sort of conversation that might be unsavory. You watched as he twisted his expression, tightening his lips—whatever it was, it was bothering him profusely, and you couldn’t help the pang gripping your heart..

“ Raph…? ”

Again, your voice seemed weaker this time. That was what gave him the drive to speak, he couldn’t handle leaving you in such a state, he needed to know if these worries of his were dumb!

“ Do you like Leo? ”

“ What. ”

Your response was so fast and curt, the product of being completely taken off guard with a left hook. There were plenty of other ideas you had for the direction of this conversation, such as having beaten his leftovers last week or how you have his favorite hoodie in your laundry basket right now. Maybe even the secret trips to Donnie’s, who was currently helping you get together a gift for Raph’s birthday next month. A particularly low worry even fretted that this might be a conversation about your relationship and how it should end.

But, instead it’s about Leo? What an easy question to answer!

“ Sorry, I didn’t mean that, I mean to say no. ”

Raph’s shoulders loosened and a breath of relief slipped out of him—when had he even started holding his breath?? Never mind that. You snorted at the absurd thought of liking Leo of all people.

“ Why would I like Leo? Raph, c’mere. ”

You held your hands out, and the way his hands fell into yours spelled out a desperation to be close to you. With a gentle tug, he climbed onto his bed, and you melted into his chest. A storm was brewing in his chest, his heart thundering nervously.

“ Ya just, Raph don’t know, something—he, just… Raph was worried, s’all. Afraid ya preferred him over a… ”

While he was searching for whatever word to insult himself with, you captured his attention with a gentle peck on the lips. Your fingers gently held his chin, turning his focus to lay fully on you.

“ Over a charming, handsome hero? ”

There was that adorable smile, peppering his lips as a light laugh erupted from his chest.

“ You think I’d prefer Leo, who is a risky little ticking time bomb, over my knight in shining armor? ”

He whispered a rebuttal, something along the lines of “ he really is, huh? ”

“ Oh Raph-a-doodle, never could I want anyone other than you. ”

Leaning up, you pressed your forehead against his and gazed into his eyes. They searched yours for a hint of deceit, for anything to latch onto and spiral about, but all he found was warmth.

Thus, the jealousy flame died out, and he plummeted backwards against his bed, dragging you down with him. He gave a heavy exhale as you giggled atop his plastron, scolding him for being so silly.

┆ ── ˚₊· ͟͟͞͞➳❥ — Donnie 💌

The green of jealousy was a hue you never expected to be painted across the purple canvas you called your boyfriend, but surely there is a chance for any reality to blossom true, right?

Jealousy had sewn seeds far before either of you could catch on, oblivious to the roots which spiraled and narrowed vision to see only one option as opposed to the myriad of other reasonings. You had poured love into your dearest Donnie, so much so that you couldn’t even fathom any room for jealousy. How could he ever be jealous? Surely he knows full and well just how you look at him? Obviously he knows just how only he can pluck the strings of your heart, strumming love with each touch, in a way unlike any other.

Why, if you were Excalibur, then he was your King Arthur.

So, yeah, may the gods above forgive you for not considering a jealous Donnie as a reality to worry about—though, is it really too worrying? Your boyfriend being jealous? Kind of interesting, doesn’t it just trip up your heart into a flurry of skips?

No? Just me?

Anyways, you had missed entirely the shifting of his gaze when Mikey would enter the room. The low growl, the holding of his breath, none of it had appeared in your mind as you laughed along with whatever silly antics the youngest brother would get up to. Sometimes you would even entertain him! I mean, he is your boyfriend’s little brother, so it’s only right that you laugh at his jokes, get along with him, and all that good stuff.

But, jealousy was the type to hold someone still, to draw their gaze upon one stiff perspective and allow no other reasoning. For a man of science, even he was not above the laws of insecurity in relationships, so when he saw how bouncy his brother was around you, never did he contemplate the obvious. Nary a thought shall he consider that it was simply his brother getting along with his brother’s girlfriend, nor did he consider maybe you were being nice. No, the sour, bitter green dipped his head in the nastiness of jealousy, and all he could consider in this moment was that you must have liked his brother more.

Or maybe, his brother liked you and intended to steal you away? Why else would you laugh so heartily at whatever nonsense his brother spouted? Whatever reason was there for the times he would find you in the kitchen, fixing up dinner alongside Mikey? What else could explain you returning home with topside art supplies and personalized tips to his youngest brother?

Obviously the jealous mind of Donatello Hamato was going to omit one important factor: you did this with all his brothers. If they told a good joke, you would laugh. If Mikey made dinner, you were guaranteed to be in the kitchen helping by fixing you and Donnie’s plates to your liking. If there was something on the surface any of the brothers needed, you would totally put it on your errand run, delivering it during your next visit.

But, jealousy cares not for easy explanations. It craves the most dramatic interpretations, and in this case?

The juiciest interpretation was that Mikey had set his eyes on you, Donnie’s prized lover, and you had fallen for him hook, line, and sinker.

No, no, no, Donnie says, not on his watch would he let you be swept off your feet by anyone else.

“ Y/N. ”

Donnie leaned forward, fingers firmly locking with yours and giving an urgent tug. There was a thickness layered in his eyes that left Mikey shrinking away, confused as to what he could’ve done wrong.

“ Let’s go,”

Straightening up, he couldn’t help the grin widening on his face in a “ I’ve won ” type of manner. You simply waved to his brother.

“ You haven’t forgotten why you’re here, have you? ”

The look in his eyes caused your heart to skip, unprepared for such a heavy gaze that you hadn’t yet experienced. A nervous smile rose on your expression as you looked anywhere but the face giving you a look that would serve to make you fall even harder.

“ Of course not, Dee. ”

Donnie noted your refusal to eye contact, and instead of assuming it was one of your usual bashful moments caused by yours truly, his thoughts were plagued with theories of Mikey somehow worming his way into the heart Donnie swore was his.

“ Right. ”

He muttered in a curt fashion, leading you both to his lab.

The uncomfortable awkwardness blanketing the atmosphere had not gone unnoticed as you followed him, thumb stroking loving little hearts upon the upside of his palm. Usually he would meet this with a firm squeeze, but you could recognize when your genius had his mind up in the clouds. He wasn’t even paying attention to you, was he?! And to think you came all this way to entertain his experiments, hoping to get a kiss or two, only to be met with unnecessary coldness?

What the heck, man?

“ Prepare to behold the wondrous creations of the genius, Donatello. ”

Whatever stink he had been brewing in just seconds prior had evaporated as he unveiled his newest creation: an air-fryer that could quite literally create anything from thin air.

You tried to ignore the distant shout of the youngest brother, something along the lines of “ Hey! Where’s the air-fryer?! ”

Donnie had not ignored it, nor had he dismissed the stifled laughter from you that he surely knew the cause of. His hands clenched, wrapping into crossed arms as he leaned his weight into the table.

“ Annoyed sigh. ”

While rolling his eyes, he muttered an annotation to the peeved groan slipping his lips. There it was again, you noted with a narrowed gaze, that odd discontentment he’d been soaking in this night.

“ Alright, spill it. ”

You mirrored his lean, relying on one of the structural pillars in his lab to hold your weight. Your fingers thumped impatiently against your bicep as your eyes soaked in Donnie’s body language. He seemed to stiffen, either nervously or defensively, you didn’t know.

“ Spill what? ”

He spoke with such an accusatory tone that you were almost ticked off. You held your tongue, hoping to keep this civil and not devolving into mindless argument.

“ Spill wh—?! ”

Sputtering, your hands gestured wildly before quite literally framing him. He knew what you meant, he wasn’t dumb!

“ Whatever is making you so, so—so THIS! ”

His brow raised, and he almost seemed insulted as you threw your hands up with a frustrated growl.

“ Why are you so upset with me right now? What did I do? ”

That seemed to do the charm of dragging out what you’ve been looking for, the explanation, as he straightened his posture and pushed off the table.

“ Oh save me the innocent act, Y/N,”

Confusion painted your face, and for a moment he physically faltered, unsure to continue after such a clear display of hurt across your pretty face. After a second, his mouth tugged into a frown, shaking off the hesitation to continue his claim,

“ I know you like Mikey, so just do us both a favor and go scurry along after him. ”

Donnie waved his hand off, pointing to the door. Whatever look you had on your face at that moment must have embodied just how deeply the pain in your heart crawled, right on down to your very core, because he seemed to balk at his own words. A bit of regret wrapped around him as he muttered something too low for you to hear.

Tightening your lips, you straightened this time and took a few steps to close the gap between you and him.

“ You will not talk to me like that, and what’s this about me liking Mikey? Your little brother? ME? You think I like him?! ”

There was no way, right? He couldn’t be serious? You, liking Mi—he might as well have been your brother too! You could never like him over Donnie?! What an outrageous claim, you thought, standing your ground in front of Donnie. This could have been avoided if he had just not been such, such a…

“ Obviously! Why else would you be bringing him gifts and helping him out in the kitchen? ”

You opened your mouth to speak, only to be interrupted as he continued with an accusatory finger pointing no where specific.

“ And I’ll have you know that I have read about ‘Cooking together’ and I know how much of an intimate bonding experience it is! ”

The childish stomp he gave, throwing his fists against his sides stiffly, served to diminish almost all the frustration bubbling up. You snorted at the sight, causing him to loosen up, confusedly tripping over his words to sputter out a “ Wh-What, what is this, what’s so funny? ”

“ … You’re a riot, Dee. ”

Wiping away the tiny tears pricking from such a hearty laugh, your eyes met his with less of anger and more of the warmth he was far too familiar of.

“ Since apparently I’m the only one of us with some sense, I’ll have YOU know that I do that for all of y’all! ”

Sheepishly, he seemed to curl into himself as you poked your index finger right into his plastron to emphasize the “ you ”.

“ I bring you gifts all the time—April, Raph, Leo, hell, even Splinter, too! ”

Jealousy was starting to burn away, leaving behind the bashful shame as he started to finally contemplate the more reasonable explanations for your behavior. Silently he condemned himself for starting up this whole dumb debacle with such a blatant disregard to the facts.

“ And of COURSE I help Mikey with cooking. You have a specific palette that he doesn’t always remember fully, so it’s up to me to make sure you get a fulfilling meal you’ll actually eat, dummy! ”

Ah, now that was the part that did him in, something he didn’t even know. Just as you were going to continue, he stepped closer.

“ Wait, you do? ”

“ I do—do what? I said a lot of things, Donnie, be specific. ”

Derailed, you stumbled over your claims, lost suddenly at which point he had cling to.

“ I thought Michael was just inconsistent in his preparation of my dishes, but since you say that, I do recall my meals being much better when you were around. ”

His hands had found their way upon your shoulders as he spoke, gaze flitting all across the lab as he collected his thoughts.

“ I had suspected meals were just better when you were around because, well.. ”

You softened as his gaze fell onto you.

“ Because you were there.. ”

Silence fell upon you both, except more comfortably this time. He exhaled deeply, marked with his trademark “ relieved sigh ” then smiled at you.

“ Oh Y/N, I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to drag you into such a ridiculous argument. I was just… ”

“ You were just… Jealous? ”

Your teasing gaze was searing through him, so much so he shut his eyes tightly and groaned annoyedly.

“ As much as I would wish to not admit it, yes. I may have been experiencing,”

He waved his hand in the air, as if collecting his words.

“ Jealousy, towards your interactions with Miguel.. ”

Donnie was relieved as you laughed away all his worries, leaning in to plant a kiss on his lips. The moment lingered for a few, as if desperately needed to mend this situation, stopping only when you pulled away.

“ Alright, you’re forgiven… For now—BUT! Next time just talk to me, dummy, you got me all riled up for no reason. ”

With that, you gave a playful shove that had him gasping as though he were insulted, and quick to rush to his experiment’s side with more questions than he could keep up with.

Not like he hated an attentive and questioning audience, though. Much appreciated.

[marvelouslizzie]

unconventional methods - chapter 1

Summary: Bucky Barnes has a big problem: he is too anxious to date and too old school to enjoy porn. But he needs some kind of relief, and he needs it right now.

After getting an accidental boner during a mission, Natasha suggests him an application that seems to be exactly what he needs.

Will your content solve the problem for him? Or will it create new problems?

Pairing: Bucky Barnes x Female Reader (SHIELD Agent Bucky Barnes x Adult Content Creator Reader)

Word Count: 5.7K

Warnings: 18+ NSFW MINORS DNI, sex deprivation, adult content creation, sexy lingerie, sexy photos and videos, male masturbation, self-doubt, overthinking, flirting, sexting, sending explicit content to each other, pet names, mutual masturbation, jealousy, feeling possessive (nothing toxic), hiding the real identity, no mention of y/n.

A/N: This was such a random idea but as I started to think about it, more details came to me. After a point, it became impossible not to write.

In this story, Bunny is the reader but we view most of the story from Bucky’s side so there’s no use of you during the story. We don’t know what the reader is up to, how she feels about stuff. Only as much as Bucky knows or sees. That’s why the reader is mentioned as she mostly.

>> indicates incoming messages and << indicates outgoing messages in this story.

This story is not exactly how it seems but I don’t want to spoil it by revealing things too soon. Just stick around, if you wanna know how things will turn out to be.

Again, a big thank you to @notafunkiller for helping me every step of the way. She helped me the moment I felt stuck or something felt off, beta read the whole story and turned this into a readable piece. Thanking her won’t be enough. I would literally add her as a co-writer if that was possible on Tumblr.

All work is mine, please do not repost or translate without my permission.

Every like, comment and reblog is highly appreciated. Don’t hesitate to message me or send me a question regarding the stories I write. I would love to talk about it and no, it would never bother me as long as it’s not a hate comment. They are never welcome.

Read more tag starts after the first paragraph of the story.

Bucky wasn’t sure if he should do this. He looked at the paper Natasha handed him and then back at the screen again. The internet browser was open for a while, but he couldn’t decide what to do. It felt weird to be in this position. It didn’t feel right… but why was it wrong again? She was sharing her own content: whatever she was comfortable with. They were all there for people to see if they wanted to, right? He took a deep breath, started to type the link Natasha wrote down for him, and pushed enter quickly before he changed his mind.

The page loaded quickly, but all he could see was her profile picture and the header. There was a huge subscribe button and under it, he could see how many posts she had, different subscription options, etc. He scrolled back up to look at her photos. They were not clickable, but her profile picture was her in blue lingerie and cute bunny ears, which made him smile for a second. Then he looked at the header. She was on all fours, staring directly into the camera. It was a different look. Not that “I’m trying to look sexy” look that usually turned him off when it came to porn. It felt genuine somehow. How genuine it could be under these circumstances…

He looked at her profile picture for a while, thinking what could go wrong? A lot of people were doing this, weren't they? Some people were making money, some were paying for it. It wasn't that different from buying a dirty magazine. No, actually this was better because she had all the creative control over her own content. She was the one putting it out there. If that was not consent, then what was? He quickly created an account for himself, using a new email account like Natasha suggested. He didn’t need anyone to find out about this.

The next part felt like falling into a rabbit hole because dear god… She looked gorgeous! She had some free content that didn’t show much. Different poses in different lingerie. The photos were serving their purpose, making you want to subscribe and see more… of her. So he kept looking for a while.

There was something about her that made her so much more attractive, but he couldn’t put his finger on it. He clicked next, looking at her pic in front of the mirror, with her legs wide open, but not actually showing anything. The slight smile on her face was warm and inviting. He knew he had no other option than to subscribe and see all of her content. He needed to see more.

The process didn't take long. After unlocking the special content, he just stared at the screen. How can she be real? He palmed his face, feeling nervous like he was on a first date with this attractive woman. He knew he wasn't. She was way out of his league, but he still felt nervous and intrigued while checking out all the content. There were so many different options and he didn’t know where to start.

At first, he decided to go slow and just check a couple of nude photos. The pics were in order, showing her getting rid of one piece of clothing with each new shot. It started with her fully dressed, looking super sexy: short skirt, modest cleavage, looking all cute. First, the skirt was gone, then her top, and she was left standing in her pastel pink lingerie that covered her chest completely, but it was lacy and see-through. It was fitting her like it was custom-made. He couldn’t stop himself and kept swiping, finding different concepts. His cock was pressed against his pants, aching for attention as he was unable to look away.

After spending god knows how long on her profile, Bucky finally couldn’t take it anymore. This was the point of all this, wasn’t it? Creating the need at the right time to please himself, so he wouldn’t get random erections during the missions… He unzipped himself and finally freed his cock. Still, his hands didn’t go there directly. He kept looking at her profile, discovering other features: like videos she uploaded while getting off!

“Dear god…” He gulped after seeing the thumbnail. She had a dildo in her hand. There was no way he was not going to click on this. No way!

He watched her taking her sweet time, teasing herself and, of course, the viewers, then getting really wet and adding lube on top of it before she pushed the dildo inside. The moan she let out sent a powerful jolt through his whole body. It was so beautiful and felt so fucking authentic, nothing like those fake, unrealistic porn moans. They were always a huge turn-off. This, on the other hand, was too much to handle. His cock was dripping so much precum, begging him for some attention. He couldn’t remember the last time he was this turned on. Either it never happened or it was so long ago, it doesn’t matter anymore.

He finally reached for the lube, poured a generous amount into his flesh hand, and quickly grabbed his cock. 

“Fuck.” It felt so sensitive. Like he had been edged for the last hour. Maybe he had been… after all the content he went through.

His fingers were loose, moving up and down slowly while the most beautiful girl he ever laid eyes on was pleasing herself on the screen. He didn’t want this to end too soon. He wanted to take his sweet time and maybe imagine she was the one doing this to him. That was a nice image: her between his legs, looking up at him with those big eyes while she moved her hand up and down slowly, torturing him, not letting him come until she said so.

His breath shuttered at the thought, his fingers moving faster than before, like they have their own mind. His cock was grateful, but no, he didn’t want to come before the video was done. Somehow it felt like disappointing your date during your first sex.

Luckily, she started to shatter, moaning as she came on the dildo she was riding. And the noises she made immediately sent him over the edge. 

“F-f-fuck,” he slurred as he started to come. It felt good, really good. He lost himself in pleasure and kept stroking until he emptied himself. Until he felt that overstimulation creeping in. That was when he noticed he closed his eyes. When he opened them back up, the video was done and the black screen with a play again button welcomed him. 

Disappointment washed over him. She wasn't there with him. Even if he came before the video was done, she wouldn’t know. There was no one to disappoint. He was alone in his bedroom, jerking off to a computer screen, but in his defense, the girl was hot. Really hot.

He took a deep breath, letting himself enjoy the afterglow. That was the point of all this: enjoying small stuff like satisfaction without going through the tedious process of meeting new people. He reached for the wet wipes and cleaned himself quickly. As he clicked the exit button on the video, he saw another one. It must be old because she looked a bit younger, and her hair was a little lighter. Also, it looked like a short one so he clicked on it.

“Hey. Thank you so much for subscribing.” This was the first time he heard her voice. It was soft and calm. “I know this isn’t conventional, but I enjoy sharing content like this. Don’t judge me if you don’t wanna be judged, okay?” She winked and god, it was adorable. “I'll try to share new content every Wednesday. I hope to see you here. Feel free to message me if you like. Take care.”

If he hadn’t come thirty seconds ago, he would have gotten hard again after hearing her voice. He was glad even the super soldier serum had some limits. Before his body could recover from his intense orgasm, he closed the window and decided to go take a shower.

-------

The next week passed in a blur. There were missions, briefings, and someone’s birthday… He didn’t care whose. It was not someone from the main team, that was all he knew. He was eating his cake in the corner, minding his own business when Natasha sat next to him.

“Hey.” She tried to sound as casual as possible.

“Hey.”

“You look better.”

Bucky looked at her confused.

“Does that supposed to be a compliment, Romanoff?”

“It’s a simple statement, Barnes. It looks like you took my advice and gave yourself a break.” Bucky averted his gaze from her. “No accidental erections during missions, congrats.”

“It was one time, Natasha. One time. When will you let it go?”

“Whenever you tell me about your… experience.”

“My experience?” He looked back at her, with the same confused expression all over again.

“I wanna know if you liked her or not. I don’t need details.”

“Why do you care so much about it? She’s just a random girl.” He lied to her. She wasn’t. At least not to him. He had been checking her account anytime he got a chance. This whole week, he had been masturbating more than he ever did before. Sometimes even the thought of her was turning him on so randomly, he was starting to get worried, but at the same time, he couldn’t stop himself from checking for updates.

She was sharing content very regularly. Sometimes they were new photoshoots, and sometimes just random cute photos in pajamas. He didn’t know which content he was looking forward to the most. All he knew was he loved how genuine it felt she was.

“I’m just noisy. So tell me…”

“Yes, Natasha, I like her. She’s cute and hot, exactly what I was looking for. What do you want, a thank you?”

Bucky really had no idea how Natasha managed to hit the bull's eye when she suggested this girl to him. She was absolutely his type, so he could say thank you for this, but nothing more.

“I wouldn’t mind.”

“Thank you.” It was Natasha’s turn to feel confused because in all the time they spent together with Barnes, he never once thanked her. This was a first.

“Wow. You really like her.” She sounded proud of herself.

“Hey, Buck!” The moment Bucky heard Sam’s voice, he jumped off the couch. He didn’t want to spend another minute talking about his irrational crush with Natasha. It was pointless.

-------

As the time passed, Bucky felt like he was addicted to her content. He was checking his phone much more often than before, just to see if she shared something. He didn’t notice it until Sam pointed it out and asked if he got a girlfriend or something. He quickly denied that possibility, finding a lame excuse. He wasn’t sure if Sam bought it or not, but he definitely needed to check his phone less often. 

When he came back home, he felt so tired. The whole day was full of meetings and he let himself be consumed by the details just not to think about her. It was Wednesday, which meant new content,  yet he still tried to stay away from his phone. 

He literally consumed every content she ever shared. There was no photo or video on her profile he didn't see. There were some he masturbated to more than once. He just wanted to take a step back and if he could manage this, he would feel less of a creep. The problem was he was home and he had nothing to do.

He tried to distract himself with food at first, and it only worked for 15 minutes. Then he took a shower, which took even less. Watching television didn’t even last more than 5 minutes, so he decided to go to sleep, but his mind kept wandering to her. He wanted to know what she shared and how she looked. Finally, he gave in and opened her profile… to see nothing. Since yesterday she shared literally nothing. That was so unlike her. She shared something every day and she never missed Wednesdays. He didn’t care about the lack of new content. It worried him that he doesn’t know if she was alright. Why wouldn’t she be? Maybe she was busy. He tried to calm himself down but falling asleep was impossible.

Then he made a promise to himself: if she won't share anything by noon the next day, he would message her. That thought calmed him down a little.

-------

The next day, Bucky forgot that he was trying to avoid checking his phone in public. His body was at work, but his mind was stuck on… her. He kept looking at her profile to see something, anything to assure himself you’re alright, but there was literally nothing. Complete silence. When it was finally noon, he had no patience left. Normally, he wouldn’t even consider sending a message, but he was just worried. And it didn’t occur to him that it was not his place to be concerned about this woman. 

He opened her profile and clicked on the direct messages feature. His mind was completely blank. He had no idea what to say, looking at the screen for a couple of seconds as he trying to collect his thoughts.

“Hey.” That’s all he could come up with. How to say you are worried about someone who has no idea you even exist? It was ridiculous, but there was no way he could just wait and do nothing. “I’m sorry for bothering you. I hope you are alright. You have been absent lately. It could be something totally personal, I know that, but you never miss Wednesdays. So I wanted to check in to see if you are fine. I really hope you are.”

He took a deep breath after he pressed send. It was a long shot for sure. He didn’t really expect an answer. Maybe a seen. And that would be more than enough.

-------

An unfamiliar chime got Bucky’s attention. It surely came from his phone, but he never heard that sound before. When he took his phone out and saw the notification, his heart skipped a beat, just for a second. It was a message from her. The nervous feeling spread through his body like poison, sweat pooling on his forehead before he even clicked on it.

>> Hey, handsome. Thank you for checking in. I have been a bit busy and sick at the same time. Not the best combo. Sorry for missing the content day. I will make it up next Wednesday.

Bucky looked at the message, a bit confused. He wasn’t interested when the new content was gonna drop. He just wanted to know if she was okay. Being busy and sick at the same time didn’t look so. Content should have been the last thing she should be worried about.

<< I’m not worried about the content, darling. I just wanted to make sure you were okay.

He definitely didn’t expect her to respond this quickly, it didn’t even take a minute.

>> Really? I thought you’d miss me.

She was talking like she knew him personally. Like they have chatted before. It was weird and comforting at the same time.

<< I did miss seeing your cute little face, I’m not gonna lie, but I didn’t message you for that. Content can wait until you feel better.

>> My cute little face is a little bit unpresentable and I appreciate your concern. It’s refreshing to see someone actually cares how I am feeling instead of why I did not share anything lately.

<< I’m sure your cute little face is still the cutest thing on the face of the earth. I wouldn’t worry about being presentable.

>> Get ready for a jumpscare. 

He had no idea what that meant, but the text was followed by a selfie: her, in bed, looking rather exhausted, with a messy bun, cute pajamas, and a cup of tea in her hand. Bucky quickly googled what jumpscare means and came back to the messaging screen.

<< You clearly don’t know what jumpscare means. It would be me, in a dark hallway or an alley. That’s real jumpscare. This is a cute lady who needs a bit of time to recover.

>> First darling, now cute lady. Are you sure you aren’t 60 years old?

<< Why, do you have an age limit?

>> For my content? No. << And for other stuff?

>> The answer is still no, but are you?

<< 60? No. I’m 107.

>> How do you know how to use the app at 107? 

That question made Bucky laugh a little, but he chose to be honest.

<< If I don’t know something I just google it.

>> Shouldn't you be semi-dead at 107?

<< I should be fully dead yet I’m still here.

>> Your profile says 33. Why are you lying handsome?

<< Believe me, my body and soul are older than 33.

>> I kinda believe that because you are talking differently.

<< Is it why you are answering my messages?

>> That and I feel a bit lonely. Your message sounded cute. I usually end the conversation before it gets too far.

<< What’s too far for you?

>> When they start demanding private pictures or try to sext.

Bucky had to google once again what sext means, just to be sure, and it was exactly what he thought it would be.

<< But you sent them to me.

>> Just one picture. A sick selfie and you didn’t ask for it. I thought it would turn you off really badly and you would say take care and end the convo.

<< I still think you look cute.

>> I am starting to believe you might be cute as well.

-------

Bucky had no idea how things got this far with her. After that message, they were literally sending texting each other daily. Just checking in, asking random stuff, or getting to know each other. It was not the same every day. Sometimes it was just a couple of messages and dead silence. Sometimes they communicated all day, non-stop, but Bucky didn’t mind. He didn’t mind not talking to her every day. Knowing that she was okay gave him a bit of peace. Just a good morning or a good night message was enough to ease his anxiety. 

>> Good morning, handsome.

That was the text he woke up to, that made him smile almost all day. Every time he remembered her calling him handsome or taking time to send a message to him, it made him happy. It made him feel different than others. He knew that was not the case. Maybe she kept talking to him because he didn’t make her uncomfortable. Maybe she talked to others too. He had no idea, but whenever he thought about her messaging someone else, he felt a faint pain in his stomach. He knew this feeling was irrational, so he avoidedto think about it as much as possible.

<< Good morning, bunny.

<< Is your favorite color pink? He randomly asked as he had been doing all week. The question came to him because he noticed she wore that color a lot.

>> No, it’s light blue. Why?

<< You wear pink a lot, that’s why I asked.

>> That’s what they like. Most men still think blue is a manly color.

<< You look divine in blue. It’s their loss really.

Her answer was a picture of her in blue lingerie. It surprised him because that photo was not on her profile. He remembered seeing this set, but not this exact photo. He kept looking at the pic for much longer than he should have. Another message woke him up from his trance.

<< I take that as you like it.

>> This photo is not on your profile.

<< No, it’s not.

>> But you feel fine sending it to me.

<< You said I look divine in blue. 

>> You do. I’m just surprised you sent me a photo you didn’t share before. I’m glad you feel comfortable.

<< I’m pretty comfortable talking to you. Otherwise, I wouldn’t talk to someone whose name I don’t know.

>> I don’t know your name either, bunny.

<< You are a smart man. Most assume this is my real name.

>> Using your real name would be an unnecessary risk.

<< Is that why you don’t call me Viv?

>> Maybe. I wasn’t doing it on purpose. Why are you calling me handsome?

<< I don’t know, I never really thought about it.

>> Yeah, exactly. You don’t know what I look like but you are calling me handsome.

<< I would love to see what you look like, but I don’t wanna make you feel uncomfortable.

>> I’m sure what you are imagining is much better than the reality, bunny.

<< Why do you call me bunny?

>> Because of your profile photo. The bunny ears. You look really cute.

-------

Bucky was in the middle of debriefing. After a really long mission, he was finally back in New York. He wondered if Bunny messaged him. That was what he’d been calling her in his mind for a while and suddenly, he realized it might be too weird. Was he getting too creepy? Too comfortable? They didn’t even know each other properly. The last time they talked, she asked him why he didn’t use Viv. Maybe that was a signal for him to go for the fake name instead of his nickname.

“Barnes.” Fury’s voice brought him back to reality.

“Sorry, what did you say?”

“I asked if you want to add anything else.” His voice was firm.

“No, no. Romanoff covered it well.”

“Good. Rest for a couple of days. We will be going back to finish what we started.”

When Bucky finally reached out for his phone, Natasha was smiling in the corner.

“Does he have a secret girlfriend?” Sam asked.

“Maybe. I have no idea.” She lied.

-------

>> Good morning, old man.

>> Busy day?

>> I got a funny story to tell you, but you aren’t around.

>> Please tell me I didn’t offend you with the nickname.

>> I am messaging you a lot, aren’t I? I should leave you alone.

>> I’m sorry…

Bucky’s heart was racing as he read the messages. He should’ve warned her about not being online for a while. Instead, she thought she did something wrong. He looked at the message screen, trying tocome up with a good response to assure her that he wasn’t offended. He was an old man after all. What was there to get offended?

<< Hey. I’m sorry. I was away for work. There was no signal. I did not see your messages before. 

<< Just know that you never bother me. You can message me as much as you want. Whenever you want and I will answer when I can.

<< And you know I should be the one to worry if I’m bothering you or creeping you out. Not you.

<< If you still wanna tell me that funny story, I’m here to listen, Viv.

Bucky wasn’t sure if she would reply. After all, she didn’t get a message from him for a while. Maybe he’d already lost his chance… But then his phone chimed.

>> Viv? Where did Bunny go?

>> 🐰

<< You want me to call you Bunny?

>> I got used to it.

<< Okay, Bunny. If that’s what you want.

This made him feel better. Maybe he was just overthinking. She didn’t seem to mind half of the things he was thinking about.

<< Should I get used to being called old man?

>> Does it bother you?

<< It doesn’t. I am an old man.

>> You are 33 if you didn’t lie while creating your profile.

<< Biologically, yes.

>> But you feel older, so you don’t mind.

>> I’m glad you are back.

<< I’m sorry that I didn’t warn you about work.

>> It’s okay. You don’t owe me anything.

That last message broke his heart. He knew she was right. He didn’t owe her anything, but that wasn’t the reason why he was explaining himself. He was doing it because he wanted to, and a small part of him wanted to owe her an explanation. He also wanted her to owe him an explanation. Yet he knew that wasn’t the case.

<< Is that how you feel?

>> Isn’t that how I should feel? I don’t know who you are. I don’t even know what you look like. I just know I like talking to you. If that’s the only thing you are willing to do, then it’s fine by me. I mean you could be married or engaged and I wouldn’t know. So it’s fine, you don’t have to explain yourself.

Bucky looked at the message for a while, digesting what she was saying. She was right. She had no information about who he was while he had access to her all of her content and now private messages. She was completely exposed, and he didn’t even share his name with her. Why would she trust him? Why would she owe him any explanation at all?

<< It’s James.

>> Nice to meet you, James 🐰

>> You have such a beautiful name. 

-------

After he shared his name with her, something changed between them. Something subtle, but it meant a lot to Bucky. It felt like she was more open, and more curious now. 

>> What are you wearing?

Bunny’s question caught him off guard. He looked at himself in panic. He was sitting on the floor, only with his boxers on, so there was no way he could tell her the truth.

<< Pajamas, you?

>> What kind of pajamas? I’m guessing old man pajamas but…I never saw an old man in old-school pajamas. Maybe you can show me.

Shit, shit, shit.

Lying to her was a huge mistake. He had no pajamas to put on. He only had a couple of pants, and henleys, and maybe three jackets. Natasha always made fun of him for wearing the same stuff over and over again. She was trying to hit a nerve so he would go buy something new, but it didn’t work, of course. Now, he wished it did.

He started to panic a little, looking around to find a solution. I could cover my body, a voice in his head said. And that’s what he did. He laid down, covered himself with his blanket, and took the picture. His face wasn’t in the frame, just the tip of his chin. Since he shaved this morning, his dimple was showing. He used his vibranium hand to take the selfie, and in this way, it looked like a normal photo.

It was too late when he noticed the fact that he laying on the floor, not in bed was visible. He cursed to himself while waiting for her answer. There was no way she wasn’t going to comment about the absence of the bed. No way.

>>  I am not seeing any pajamas or your body, old man. It is that bad?

Bucky took a breath of relief. Maybe she did not even notice. After all, she wanted to see him. Maybe she didn’t even pay attention to his surroundings.

Or maybe she just didn’t want to make him uncomfortable. That thought changed his mind. He literally saw every part of her body. Sending a picture back in his boxers shouldn’t be a big deal, right? He stood up and extended his vibranium arm. The new selfie was quite similar except this time he was showing a lot of skin. Starting from the tip of his chin, he showed his upper body only. He looked at the photo before sending it: upper body and black boxers. No bare legs and no face.

>> I see no pajamas. And this body doesn't belong to an old man at all. Are you lying to me, James?🤨

He might have made a mistake by sending this picture. There was no way he could prove to her this is actually him. Especially after all that old man talk. While he was thinking about what he’s gonna do next, he got another message.

>> Cat got your tongue?

<< A bunny did actually.

>> You look good, James. Really good, but you don’t seem excited.

Her response confused him. 

<< Excited?

>> Maybe you need a photo to get excited.

Before he could ask what that means, she sent him a pic of her. Definitely not professionally taken. It’s her in front of the mirror, wearing only shorts and covering her naked breasts with one of her hands while taking the picture with the other. 

>> Hope this helps.

>> But if you wanna see more, you gotta share more.

<< You're very beautiful, bunny, but I hope you know this was not my intention. I was waiting for you to tell me that funny story.

Her response was another photo: a close up on her covered breasts. She looked like she was about to drop her hand and reveal it like he did not see them before.

>> I know.

>> So does this mean you're not excited? I was trying something here…

>> I can tell you the story if that’s what you’d rather do.

“Fuck…” Bucky cursed out loud. He was really good at this before. Flirting and finding the best possible response were easy back in the 40s, but it didn’t feel like that anymore. He was constantly worried about doing something wrong or creeping her out. He wanted to hear the story, but he really wanted to see her breasts too.

<< What do I have to do to see more?

>> I’ve just told you. Share more to get more.

Oh, so she wanted more photos of him, and he literally had no idea how to take flattering pictures.

>> Maybe start by showing me if the photos worked or not.

He looked down at himself and saw his rock-hard cock. How is he supposed to show her? Maybe I should mimic her photos. He touched the outline of his dick, making it a little more visible before taking a picture.

<< Is it clear enough?

>> Oh, you got really excited, didn’t you Jamie?

>> Not an old man after all.

He loudly groaned when he saw what she called him. Jamie. God! He felt a jolt of arousal the moment he read the nickname. He was sure he got even a little harder if that’s possible. 

Before he could find an answer, Bunny sent him another photo. This time her palm was stretched on her breasts, fingers not hiding much anymore, but still, her tits weren’t completely visible. Yet he could see how erect her nipple was. He already had a lot of dirty thoughts: like taking her nipple into his mouth and torturing her before giving in. He just didn’t know if he should voice them or not.

<< Oh, that nipple…

>> What about it?

<< You wanna hear what I am thinking about?

>> Well, since I’m trying to tempt you here… What do you think?

<< Fuck, Bunny. You have no idea what you are doing to me.

>> I am dying to hear it though.

Instead of telling her, Bucky decided to show her. He tried to position himself in front of the camera and take a good photo of his erection. He tried a couple of different angles, but it was a dick after all. Nothing he tried seemed to make it seem more appealing in his view. When he finally sent the picture, he added a small text.

<< How about I show you instead?

>> Oh my god!

>> You were hiding that from me all this time?

>> Damn, I feel robbed.

<< Does this mean you like it, doll?

>> Oh, that’s new.

>> And I like it.

>> Maybe even better than Bunny.

>> And yes, I am actually drooling right now even with that horrible angle. 

<< Horrible angle? How should I do this then? I never...

>> Do you want me to teach you, old man? Because I can.

<< I’m always open to learning new stuff. That’s the only thing you can always rely on.

>> Ohh, I love that. Open-minded, doesn’t mind taking criticism, no fragile masculinity. All very hot. 

>> Try taking a picture in front of the mirror maybe. Don’t take the picture from above or too down. Try to use eye level if you aren’t particularly doing something. That works better.

Using a mirror wasn’t a good idea for him. He could imagine the photos looking better like that, but there was no way he could hide his metal arm.

So instead of positionin his camera above, he tried to level it down, showing his full length and thickness. A photo didn’t seem to work so he decided to record a short video of him playing with himself: his flesh hand going up and down slowly on his full length. He couldn’t help but let a low moan when his hand brushed against the head. Fuck, imagining her seeing this… The idea turned him on even more. He got so excited that he forgot to check the video before sending it.

>> Fuck, James.

>> Fuck fuck fuck.

>> Your voice is so fucking hot.

>> And you are so aroused. Is it all for me?

<< It’s all for you, doll.

<< This is what you do to me. All the time. 

<< God, I wish you were here.

Bunny or Doll, he had no idea which one suits her better, sent a video as the response: her fingers, two of them, going in and out inside her. She was going pretty fast, indicating she had been doing this for a while, and there was a faint moaning in the background, which Bucky couldn’t get enough of. He watched the video twice before answering.

>> You are gonna be the death of me.

>> Are those fingers enough? Do you want a third one or maybe you would rather have a big dildo inside?

<< I would rather have you inside me.

After this point, everything felt like a blur. Things got out of hand, they kept exchanging photos and videos until they both got pretty powerful orgasms. Yet James found himself wanting more. So much more than she probably wanted to offer.

>>> Next Chapter

[astermath]

pairing: robin buckley x fem!reader

summary: robin falls head over heels for the cool girl renting horror movies at family video. steve can’t believe her awkward shyness is actually landing her a date, but he’s happy for her nonetheless.

word count: idk kinda short lol under 1K

notes: just wanted to write a little blurb, then it turned into something else, so enjoy this short little meet cute with robin ♡

normal sized font below!

Robin really is that love at first sight kinda girl.

She’s the type of girl to be busy sorting tapes at family video, when you walk in, all pretty femininity and mysterious aura around you. And suddenly she doesn’t know what to do with herself. She doesn’t know where she is, why she’s there, hell, she probably wouldn’t be able to tell you her name if she asked.

She doesn’t stop staring at you, not when you enter and not when you walk over to the horror section to pick something out. Only when Steve nudges her in her side, she snaps out of it, looking more flustered than ever.

“Dude, can you not?”

“Sorry man, it just— looked like you were falling asleep with your eyes open! What’s with you anyways?”

Robin doesn’t respond, simply averting her eyes to the cash register and hoping Steve doesn’t pry any further.

Which would have worked, if you weren’t talking to her right now.

“I’m sorry, can I—“

“Yes! Yes, absolutely, you can…” Robin trails off, realising she hasn’t even let you finish your request. Her own eagerness embarrasses her to no end, her face heating up and her cheeks now closely resembling the colour of a tomato.

To her surprise, you giggle. You’re not awkward about it at all, which somehow makes her fall for you even harder.

“I was gonna ask what the latest time would be when I’d be able to return this.” you smile, and the blonde girl is certain it’s the most beautiful thing she’s ever seen.

“Oh! Yeah, totally, no problem! It’s uh— a great choice, by the way. I love friday the 13th, sooo good, all that horror stuff, a huge fan—“

“A week.” Steve interrupts her rambling.

“Huh?” Robin turns to her friend.

“To answer her question, since you’re too busy being head over heels over here.”

You chuckle again, and Robin genuinely thinks her head is going to explode. Not only is her best friend making fun of her in front of you, but you’re not even making her feel bad about it. It’s like you find it cute or something. How crazy is that?

“Cool, I’ll just uh,” you hold up the tape, “rent this one then.”

Robin rings you up, her hands moving faster than her mind, and she hopes you don’t notice the slight shakiness in them. It’s not every day the prettiest girl in the whole world shows up at her job, so she’s not exactly prepared.

“Thanks,” you take the tape from her along with the receipt, your fingers touching slightly when she slides them over. Now you’re the one who’s getting the butterflies.

“So, you said you were a fan of horror movies?”

Robin nods enthusiastically, while Steve has to bite his tongue to hold back from saying that that’s the biggest lie ever. Robin isn’t a coward, not at all, but she’s the worst at scary movies. She’s just saying all this to impress you. She doubts it’s working though.

“Well, I was gonna watch this alone, but…” you grab a pen off the counter and scribble down your number on the receipt. “If you feel like watching it together, give me a call…” you pause to read her name tag. “Robin.” You smile again. “Nice name.”

“T-Thanks! You uh, you too!”

“Thanks, even though I… Haven’t told you yet.” You write your name down next to the number. “Now you know.”

“Huh…” She reads it over, not being able to keep herself from smiling like she’s sunshine incarnate. “That is a really nice name though.”

You grin, grabbing the tape off the counter and stuffing it in your bag. “Well, Robin, I’m free this Friday, if you wanna take me up on the offer.” You start walking backwards and give her a quick wave. “See y’around.”

She waves back, although more hesitant. Frankly, she’s still processing the entire encounter, and the fact that you’re real. Someone as beautiful as you exists, talked to her, even gave her your number. She didn’t know a reality like that was possible.

“I can’t believe that worked.” Steve scoffs in disbelief, though he’s pretty stoked for Robin all in all. He wants his friend to find her special person as much as he does for himself.

“Yeah,” she stares as you walk off, “me too.”

The freckled girl groans loudly and drops her head into her hands. “Why the fuck did I say any of that? Why do I always just keep talking?”

“I don’t see the big deal Buckley,” her coworker leans against the counter, “you got your date, don’t you?”

“Yeah, but then what? Then what do I do? I might have been able to charm her with my awkward idiocy this time, but what if we watch the movie and she finds out I’m a huge wuss!” She gestures around wildly with her hands, earning a confused stare from one of the older customers.

“This is going to sound so stupid, and I can’t believe I’m saying this,” he runs his hand through his brown locks, “but just like, be yourself? She seems nice enough, I’m sure she won’t judge you for being a total scaredy cat.”

“Not helping, Harrington.” She gives him a defeated look.

“Sorry, you know what I mean.”

“But what if she does?”

“What?”

“What if she does judge me? I mean jesus Steve, I wouldn’t blame her! She’s like— way out of my coolness league! She’s practically doing charity work watching a movie with me.”

Steve scoffs. “Don’t sell yourself short, Buckley, you’re plenty cool. Besides, if she does judge you, then clearly she’s not worth it. But again, I think you’ll be fine.”

“Yeah,” she sighs, already picturing her holding onto you in fear of a completely fictional serial killer. “I guess you’re right.” She goes quiet for a moment, before she’s back to daydreaming about the whole scenario. The two of you on your couch, shoulders touching, maybe an arm around her, hands brushing when you reach for the popcorn, all that sappy stuff…

“Buckley?”

Maybe you’d find it cute that she gets scared. Maybe you’d wanna protect her. She gets that vibe from you, that you’d keep her safe from all the Freddy Kruegers and Jason Voorhees of the world.

“Robin!”

Steve snaps her out of her daydreaming, gesturing towards Keith who’s about to enter the store.

“You two organise those tapes like I asked you to?” Their manager isn’t even looking at them, struggling with putting away his car keys.

Robin swipes the tapes off the counter and stuffs them randomly into the two boxes. That’s a problem for later.

“Yup! All sorted! Good thing I love organising stuff!” She laughs awkwardly, and Steve is fighting for his life trying not to laugh.

She’s got bigger things to worry about right now. Like what to wear for her date with you. And what kind of snacks you like to eat with your movies. And how she’s going to explain that the scariest thing she can handle is Frankenweenie.

comments and reblogs are highly appreciated!

[toomuchracket]

birthday wish (d word matty x reader fluff)

it's the 6th for me already so here's the first of the matty35 birthday celebration fics, as organised by lovely @the1975attheirverybest and @abiiors!! pre-dating, very sweet, hope you enjoy <3

“for fuck's sake, matty, will you just fucking ask her?”

george is all but bashing his head off the desk in the office he and matty have unofficially claimed as their own, while the latter paces across the carpet, biting at the skin around his nails. “dunno, george. what if she says no?”

“wouldn't be the first time a hot girl's told you to do one, would it?”

“fuck off,” matty smacks his friend on the back of the head. objectively, he knows george is right - you are hot, that's merely a fact, you're gorgeous - but that doesn't mean he has to like hearing him bring it up.

whatever. it's not like matty can get mardy at him for it - he isn't your boyfriend, after all. technically, you're barely even friends; he's known you all of four weeks, and has yet to see you in a social setting. 

he really fucking wants to, though. hence, his current dilemma.

george laughs. “mate, you're only asking her to come over to mine for your birthday drinks. it's not like you're asking her out or anything.”

“no,” matty hums, eyes unfocusing on their view out the window as his brain conjures up thoughts of doing just that. it's a nice thought, admittedly not an unfamiliar one, and something he will absolutely get distracted imagining if he doesn't snap out of it now. he blinks. “i just think it'd be nice if she was there, y'know? but, at the same time, i don't want her to feel weird about me asking, cos she doesn't know us that well yet.”

“i think you're overthinking it,” comes the salient reply. “can sort-of see where you're coming from, but i reckon if you just fucking ask her like a normal person then it'll be fine.”

matty sighs. “alright. you're right. i'll ask her before the end of the day.”

“well,” george turns to him, shit-eating grin on his face. he nods towards the glass panel on the door. “she's heading towards us, so you're doing it now.”

fuck. matty peers through the window, heart softening as he watches you wander towards him - sorry, them - stack of papers in hand and your hair escaping the messy ponytail he watched you shove it into earlier. “perfect.”

he barely has time to force the panic from his face before you're knocking softly on the half-open door, poking your head around it with a sweet smile. “hi, boys. am i okay to come in with some admin? i can come back later if you're busy.”

matty opens his mouth to speak, but george beats him to it. “oh, we're not busy at all. matty was just doing my fucking head in, as per,” he laughs when matty scowls at him. “what d'you need?”

“just got some risk assessments for album events that i need you to read and sign. the fun stuff,” you awkwardly (endearingly, matty would say) put the papers on the desk, looking up at matty as you step back and shyly clasp your hands behind your back. god, you are so fucking cute. “and, for the record, i doubt what george just said about you is true, matty.”

“thank you, darling,” matty smiles, at the exact same time as george says “no, he genuinely was being a pain in the arse”; he turns to his best friend, glaring. “what, george, like you're being to me now?”

george winks at you. “worse.”

you giggle nervously, turning towards the door - matty's heart drops as you do. “well, don't let me get in the way. just get those back to me as soon as you can, please, alright?”

“wait, before you go,” george calls after you. “can we talk to you about something?”

“um, yeah?” you turn back around, pretty face panicked, and nervously cross one arm over your stomach to hold the other. “am i in trouble?”

fuck, you are so adorable. matty smiles as softly as possible - not difficult, though, when it’s you he’s smiling at. “no, no, of course not. what would you even be in trouble for, anyway? you’re perfect.”

“oh,” you smile bashfully. “thank you.”

“it’s true. anyway,” matty clears his suddenly-very-dry throat as best he can. “we were wondering… are you, um, busy on saturday?”

“the 9th?” your brow furrows as you think. “yeah, i am, actually - my friend’s moving in with his boyfriend, and i said i’d help,” the panicked expression crosses your face again. “why do you ask? is there something else on that day that i should be at?”

crestfallen, matty replies with a “no, it’s alright, not a big deal”; george cuts him off, though. “it’s not a work thing, no - we were just gonna ask if you wanted to come to the little birthday celebration we’re having for matty at mine that day-”

“but really, if you can’t make it, no hard feelings,” matty interjects, practically tripping over his words in his haste to reassure you (read: seem cool about it, and not let on that he’s disappointed). “we know it’s short notice.”

you blink a few times, biting your lip before you look directly at matty and speak. “what time would you want me?”

well, anytime, all the time, really. “oh. just after 4? it’s quite casual, not a sit-down dinner or anything. but, like i said, no pressure.”

“no, i think i could probably be there for that time!” you nod enthusiastically. “i’ll text you if anything changes, but,” you beam, and matty thinks his heart might pack in. “i’ll do my best to be there. thanks for asking, both of you.”

“of course,” george grins. “you’re our friend. why wouldn’t we ask you?”

he isn’t technically wrong, calling you that on behalf of both of them, but it still makes matty feel like he’s bitten into a lemon. a friend; how he wishes there was another word prefixing it, one only he could use to describe you.

still, you’ll hopefully be there to celebrate his birthday with him, and that sweetens everything - if you turn up, that is. “exactly. you’re top of the guestlist, darling.”

you huff out a laugh, looking at matty so affectionately he could cry. “better make a proper effort to get to the party, then,” you look at your watch. “i’m sorry, i’ve got to run to a meeting - hopefully see you at the weekend?”

“yeah,” matty nods. you’re out of the office before he can finish speaking, and his parting phrase comes out feebly as a result. “bye, darling.”

he moves to sit back at his desk, lifting one of the risk assessments and beginning to read it in silence. george peers round his laptop, gawking at his best friend. “why you being all emo?”

“i’m not.”

“yeah, you are. you’re like a black cloud,” a beat passes, then george speaks again, voice softer. “the invitation went well, at least.”

matty hums noncommittally. “s’pose.” 

“it did, matthew. she was excited. she said she’d try her best to be there. those are good things.”

“i know,” matty sighs. “i just… i hope she’ll be there. be a shame if she wasn’t.”

“i think she will.”

“well, we’ll see.”

***

“... happy birthday, dear matty, happy birthday to you!”

matty smiles at the mismatched chorus of voices, laughing when charli ruffles his hair after she sets the cake down on the coffee table in front of him. “oi, bean,” he lightly taps eilidh, sat on his lap, on the shoulder. “i know we’re a bit early to be celebrating your birthday, but will you help me blow out the candles?”

she nods excitedly, tiny ponytail bouncing. matty beams, and they gently blow out a “3” candle each, to a soundtrack of applause. ross, sat next to the two of them, reaches over to smooth his daughter’s hair. “have the cigarettes finally caught up to you, or are you just getting too old?”

matty furrows his brow. “d’you mean?”

“well, you just needed my toddler’s help to blow out your candles - stop it, i’m joking,” his friend laughs, leaning to the side to avoid matty smacking the back of his head. “did you make a wish?”

“obviously.”

“what for?”

“can’t tell you,” matty takes a sip of his wine, lifting it out of eilidh’s reach - ross lifts her onto his own lap, and she cuddles into him quite cutely. “won’t come true, otherwise.”

“fair enough,” ross shrugs. he nods to something behind matty. “g’s trying to get your attention, mate.”

“is he?” matty turns, heart rate increasing when he hears george saying your name into the phone pressed to his ear. after excusing himself from the table, he quickly follows his friend into the quiet hallway, tensing every muscle in his body to stop his leg bouncing in nervous anticipation.

the nerves fade quickly, though - george smiles as he talks, and then he says something that makes matty want to actually skip around the house. “you’re almost here? amazing, everyone’s looking forward to seeing you…”

understatement of the fucking century.

“... and yeah, i’ll make sure someone’s outside so you know where to go,” he laughs down the line, and matty’s heart melts at the thought of you endearingly asking for that. “alright, no worries. see you soon,” george ends the call, sighing dramatically before smirking at the birthday boy. “told you she’d be here.”

“yeah, yeah,” matty rolls his eyes, but he can’t keep his cheeks from lifting into a smile, no matter how hard he tries. although, to be fair, he’s not trying particularly hard. “i’ll wait for her, mate.”

“you sure? it’s your party, after all.”

“exactly - i should be there to greet the guests,” matty smirks. “and i fancy a cig, too, if i’m honest.”

george scoffs. “typical. here,” he chucks a set of house keys at matty, who manages to catch them with the very tips of his fingers. “you’d better head out now.”

“sweet.”

it’s actually a little bit chilly when matty steps outside george’s front door, but it’s a nice evening; the sun is just beginning to set, casting a golden hue over london, the birds are chirping quietly, and the whole thing is just really quite peaceful. he perches as well as he can on the front gate, lighting up a cigarette and contentedly taking a drag. by the time your uber arrives, he’s halfway finished the cig, but he barely has time to even think about stubbing it out before you’re out of the car and walking towards him. 

he waves, eyes trailing slowly up your body, lingering on your bare legs and almost popping out of his head when they take notice of the slight cleavage your sundress is showing off. not that it’s obscene, or anything, he’s just so used to seeing you all office-chic and buttoned-up. still, matty quickly shifts his focus to that beautiful face of yours, just to keep his cool.

as if he could, around you.

you beam as you near him. “hi! i’m so, so sorry i’m late,” you open your arms for a hug, and he slots into them eagerly, savouring the rose of your perfume. “had to marinate in the shower for a bit after today, i stunk.”

“well, you smell good now. and you look it, too, i love that dress,” matty replies, heart breaking ever so slightly when you pull apart. “and you’re here, that’s all that matters.”

“thanks! and i wouldn’t have missed your birthday, matty - speaking of, here,” you pull a bottle of red from your bag and hand it to him. “didn’t know what to get you, so i figured this was a safe bet.”

“you didn’t have to get me anything! thanks, though, darling,” he looks at the label, eyes widening. “shit, this is good. shall we go inside and open it?”

“oh, if you like,” you smile. “or you can save it for someone special, i'm cool either way.”

matty shrugs, smiling. “i mean, i'm looking at such a person right now.”

it's maybe a tiny bit far a statement for a platonic relationship, but you don't take it badly at all - you just smile back, quietly agree to share the wine, and follow matty when he leads you back into the house and straight into the empty kitchen.

you gasp when you see the birthday cake on the counter. “no! i missed the cake?”

“only by a few minutes,” matty stops rummaging in a drawer for the corkscrew to look round at you; his heart jolts when he sees you look genuinely sad. “really, darling, it's not a big deal.”

“i still feel bad, though. i really am sorry for not being here on time, matty.”

“hey, none of that, please,” he hands you a glass of wine and puts his arm around your shoulders, biting back a beam as you automatically melt into him. “like i said, you're here now, and that's the main thing. and it's my birthday party, so you have to listen to me.”

“alright,” you look up at him, smiling, and hold out your glass. “happy birthday, sweetheart.”

he smiles warmly at the pet name, heart aglow, and taps his glass lightly on your own. “thank you, darling. d'you think we should cut the cake?”

jesus, what a spiral that phrase could lead him into. thank god you're not wearing white today.

you nod. “where does george keep plates? i'll get them.”

“cupboard above the kettle.”

plates and knife procured, matty carefully slices into the cake, oohing and ahhing at the interior. “wow. look at the layers! they're so neat.”

“alright, paul hollywood.”

he giggles. “i love bake off.”

“so do i - oh, thank you,” you take the plate from him, and then a bite of the cake. “fuck me, that's good.”

he laughs, pushing himself to sit on the counter and taking a bite of his own slice. “christ, you were not kidding. fucking amazing.”

“isn't it?” you wash your bite down with some wine. “m'still sorry i didn't get to see you blowing out the candles, though.”

“eilidh helped me.”

you aww, perching yourself on the counter next to him. “i take it you made a wish?”

“of course.”

“good,” you rest your head on his shoulder, so casually intimate that matty thinks his legs would give way if he tried to stand right now. “d'you think it'll come true?”

he rests his head atop yours, smiling when you giggle at him. “you know what? i think it already has.”

[outerspacebisexual]

What Remains in the Wake - Eddie Munson

Part Two of Until the Chaos is Through

Part One - Until the Chaos is Through

Part Three - Blessed Silence After This Mayhem

Part Four - Heinous Regret With No Salvation

Summary: You're left reeling after your boyfriend Eddie's infidelity. It doesn't feel like you'll ever move on, and a tiny part of you wants to go back to him.

Pairing: Eddie Munson x Reader

Word count: 5.2k

Warnings: angst, swearing, implied/referenced cheating, again maybe steve x reader if you squint, you have really great friends in this i stg

a/n: HOLY SHIT guys i seriously didn't expect all the love on until the chaos is through! i LOVE reading your thoughts about it. genuinely so many made me laugh so much.

i really hope that you enjoy part two. i got so many requests to be tagged that i couldn't get through them all, so i am sorry about that!

thank you all so much for the support! <3

Masterlist

Your days wasted away into the night after the Halloween party.

You teetered on a razor’s edge between wanting to run straight back to Eddie and wanting to never see him again.

Like today, when laying alone in your room only bought thoughts of missing him. When your covers still smelt like him, and the photos of the two of you stared blankly from their spots on your dresser and the walls and the bedside table, their wide smiles and bright eyes mocking you.

Everywhere you looked, there was Eddie, and you couldn’t bring yourself to leave this little self-proclaimed bubble of ignorance.

Because if you didn’t think about it, it wasn’t real. Eddie was simply on his way over to hang out and spend the night like he used to, and everything was fine.

The night of the party, your friends had stayed with you until mid-morning. They took turns in comforting you as you spent hours sobbing on the couch, crying out against the unfairness of it all. About how stuff like this didn’t happen to people like you.

It didn’t happen to couples who loved each other.

Because you loved him.

And Eddie loved you.

But that affirmation you had been repeating to yourself for weeks held no weight now. It had been your lifeline in all those moments of doubt and insecurity, the one thing that you told yourself over and over and over, assuring you that you were wrong.

And yet, you had been right, despite all the lies you pretended were the truth.

You heard Steve’s car pull into your driveway.

You didn’t get up to let him in. He and the other’s had borrowed your spare key, taking turns in checking in on you after your refusal to leave your house for the third day in a row.

You stayed still, curled up beneath the covers, eyes closed as Steve opened your bedroom door.

“Hey,” he murmured, coming to sit on the edge of your bed.

You didn’t reply, just barely peeking your eyes open, but he didn’t look dejected, he just gave you a tight-lipped smile—one that reeked of pity.

Yesterday, it had been Nancy who came by. She had sat right where Steve was, that same sympathetic look on her face. You hadn’t wanted to talk then either.

“How are you feeling?” he asked, just loud enough for you to hear.

The tears burned the back of your eyes. “I’m fine,” you whispered, but your lip trembled, and Steve was quick to brush his hand over the side of your head.

“You don’t need to lie to me,” he told you, the same softness to his voice as before, as if he, too, was trying to protect the quiet bubble just as much as you were. That was what you told yourself, even though you knew it wasn’t true. “Talk to me.”

Your throat ached as you swallowed back a sob. You’d cried enough these past few days. “I—I don’t know what to do.”

His hand brushed over your head again. “About what?”

“About the love I have for him. I love him, Steve.” Just saying those words out loud had you weeping. “I love him so much and it still wasn’t enough.”

Steve’s hand rested on your shoulder, and he squeezed it just tight enough to make you look up at him. “Y/N, it would have been enough for anyone else. I don’t know why he did what he did, but I do know that it wasn’t because of you.”

“But if I—”

“No,” he cut you off, tone firm—firmer than anyone had been in days. “No. This isn’t on you. This is on him.”

The words should have comforted you. He meant them to be comforting, but they didn’t help. They only caused you to think about Eddie.

And it made you think of the fact that he hadn’t contacted you at all.

He hadn’t tried to call. He hadn’t come over. He hadn’t made any effort to try and talk to you.

Maybe you don’t mean enough to him, that tiny voice whispered. Maybe you weren’t enough for him to even bother to apologise. Maybe he doesn’t want to apologise.

You clamped your eyes shut, trying to block out the awful words that just kept tumbling and turning through your mind.

Steve removed his hand from your shoulder, and you instantly missed the comfort of it.

When you opened your eyes, they fell to him—to his hands—and you frowned.

“What is that?” you asked.

“What?”

You removed your arm from the warmth of your covers to take his hand in yours.

His knuckles were bruised, the middle two split, but they had healed enough to not need to be covered.

Steve tried to pull his hand away, but you held fast. “Steve?”

“I—uh,” He swallowed and looked to the wall, avoiding your eyes. “It’s from the party.”

Your brows furrowed. “You got into a fight?” You had been so focused on yourself that you hadn’t even realised he had been hurt at all, not at the party or over the past few days.

He pulled his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes not leaving your patterned wallpaper. “Sort of.”

You studied his side profile, the way his eyes darted around, his hesitancy to answer your questions.

Steve had been with Jonathan and Nancy most of the night at the party, if you remembered correctly. From the couch at the Roland’s, you had been able to see most of the first floor and you couldn’t recall him getting into a fight. If you had, you would have at least tried to stop him. That man did not need any more knocks to the head. It must have happened upstairs—

It hit you, and you shrunk back.

“Oh,” you said, and this time when he attempted to pull his hand away, you let him.

“I—yeah. Jonathan and I, we—” He cleared his throat, standing. “I should probably go. Do you need anything?”

Jonathan had been at the top of the stairs, but Steve…Steve hadn’t come out until after. Judging by his knuckles, now you knew why. You wondered if Jonathan had even tried to stop him.

You stared at him for a long moment before shaking your head. He rushed out a hurried good-bye, and then your door was pulled shut with barely more than a click.

+

School was the absolute last place you wanted to be.

The incident wasn’t common knowledge amongst your peers, but you knew that it was only a matter of time before they found out. Already, hushed whispers trailed you; some sympathetic, some not.

It was also the first time in over two years that you didn’t have Eddie by your side as you walked through the front doors. Even before you got together, you had been friends, and his presence right beside you had become a staple in your life that you never thought you’d lose.

But you had.

The worst part was lunch.

As you grabbed your tray, your eyes immediately went to the Hellfire table out of habit, and you stopped short when you realised that you couldn’t sit there anymore.

Eddie wasn’t there in his pride of place at the head of the table, thankfully, but Jeff’s eyes found you, confused as to why you weren’t coming over.

It became obvious that the rest of The Hellfire Club didn’t know.

As you stood there, you wondered if they had known about Eddie and Chrissy. Had they been aware of Eddie’s deals with her? Had you sat across from them every day being the only one in the dark? They were Eddie’s friends first; they didn’t owe you any loyalty. That belonged to their infallible Dungeon Master. Had they humoured you while Eddie snuck out to the—

An arm slipped through yours. “I hear that the band freaks and the school newspaper weirdos have way more fun than D&D nerds,” Robin whispered into your ear as she guided you towards a table at the back of the cafeteria.

You had never been more grateful.

She saw the beholden look on your face and shook her head. “Don’t,” she said softly, and then launched into a spiel about how she had a pop quiz this morning that she most definitely flopped.

Nancy was happy to see you, eyes lighting up as she moved her bag off the table to make a place for you opposite her. Robin dropped into the seat beside you. “Hello, I didn’t expect to see you today.”

You sent Nancy a shy smile. “Yeah,” you said, picking up your fork, “I was surprised, too.”

You had been thinking about skipping school today, and the rest of the week if you were honest, but you knew that it wasn’t going to make a difference about how you were feeling. Your bubble was nothing more than a delusion that you allowed yourself to believe in anyway.

“Well, either way, it’s good to see you here.”

Robin was quick to say, “And to have you sitting with us now. You have no idea the fun we have here.”

You raised a brow. “Oh really?”

“You bet,” she told you, taking a rather large bite out of her sandwich. “Us two? We’re living it up while you losers sit around whining about whatever it is you whine about all day.”

“You don’t have to sell it to me, Rob. I believe you.”

Around a mouthful of food, she said, “Look! You’re already laughing. Proof!”

True to her word, you were grinning wider than you had in nearly a week. Being by yourself for so long had only allowed you to stew in your own self-pity. Being here, with your friends who were trying so hard to help you?

That was worth braving the school corridors for.

Robin placed a hand on your arm. “Oh, did you hear about Lucas’s basketball game? He wasn’t benched—” She immediately cut herself off as her eyes flew to something—or someone—behind you.

You tensed, already not liking the way her eyes bulged as she beheld who stood there.

“Um, Y/N? Can I please talk to you?” Chrissy’s voice was quiet, so much so that you almost missed it as you turned to look at her.

She fiddled with the sleeves of her varsity cheer jacket, the one she always wore, the one you knew that she wore when she would see Eddie.

“W-What?” you managed.

She swallowed, eyes darting around at the stares that came with being the Queen of Hawkins High. “I—I would like to talk to you, please.” She pulled the sleeve of her jacket particularly hard, and it displaced the neckline of her shirt just enough to reveal a tiny patch of discoloured skin on her collarbone.

Your throat suddenly felt like it was closing up.

You couldn’t pull your eyes from that spot of skin. Had it been Eddie? Or had it been Jason? Had Jason known that his girlfriend slept with the freak he hated so much? You had never really liked Jason Carver, but right now, in this exact moment, there was no one else on earth who you understood more.

Both thoughts had bile rising as you tried to calm your racing heart. “I don’t want to talk to you, Chrissy.”

She looked down at you, a dumbstruck look on her face. “Why?”

Your jaw dropped open, and you knew that Robin and Nancy shared the same look. “Why—Why do I not want to talk to you?” you uttered. “Because you slept with my boyfriend, Chrissy.”

Her eyes widened, and she quickly glanced around at the surrounding tables.

As she did, that feeling that you had become so accustomed to whenever you saw her slowly morphed into disbelief.

Even now, she was worried about people finding out that she was the one who fucked the freak. Even as she stood beside the person who she had stolen him from, who she had a hand in betraying.

“Are you serious?”

“Please,” she murmured, “Can we speak outside?”

“I’m not going anywhere,” you told her, voice shaking.

“But—”

You dug your fingers into the side of the table.

You had no idea where all of this anger was coming from. For days, you hadn’t been able to feel anything except a swirling pool of heartbreak and numbness. And now, this rush of hostility coursed through you faster than you could stop it.

“—Chrissy,” Nancy interrupted. “You should go.”

Robin’s hand coming to rest on your forearm was the only thing keeping your grounded.

Chrissy eyed the growing number of stares that were on her. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, and your chair was sliding back in an instant as you stood.

She shrank back at the ferocity in your eyes, mouth dropping open as you leaned forward. “I don’t want your apologies,” you spat. “I want you to fuck off.” Robin and Nancy were standing, too, Robin’s hand a hairsbreadth from your arm as if to grab you at a moment’s notice.

Chrissy took a single step back. Then another. Her eyes didn’t leave you as she raced away from your table.

You stared after her, blood thrumming in your ears and your heart pounding in your chest.

But as soon as the adrenaline rush arrived, it deserted you, and that rage became humiliation as you noted all the eyes on you.

You slumped back into your seat.

Nancy sat wide-eyed across from you. “Are…Are you OK?” she asked, somewhere between shocked and…impressed?

“I honestly don’t know,” you muttered. “I think I’m going to be sick.”

Your face burned, and you shook your head. At what, you didn’t know. Maybe at your actions. Maybe at Chrissy’s fucking ignorance.

“Well,” Robin said, brows raised as she looked between you and Nancy. “I think we can safely say our table hasn’t seen this much action in years.”

You covered your face with your hands. “I thought you said you had fun here?”

“I’m a liar.”

+

You knew that going to The Hideout for the first time since Halloween would be difficult, but you hadn’t expected it to be so hard.

You didn’t expect to see Eddie in everything.

He wasn’t actually there on the random Friday night that you, Nancy, Robin, Steve, and Jonathan decided to hang out, but you saw him on the stage.

You saw him leaning against the back wall, you standing snuggly against him, playing with his hair as you listened to the band on after Corroded Coffin.

You saw him sitting at the bar, peppering kisses along your jaw.

You saw him at the table by the window, his eyes lighting up when he spotted you coming back with drinks in hand.

The Hideout was a living, breathing reminder of everything you and Eddie had once been.

And you didn’t expect it to hurt so much.

“I just can’t believe it’s taking this long,” Jonathan shouted over the music, bringing your attention back to the group. He was rambling on about something to do with Chief Hopper and his mother, and to be honest, you were a little lost.

“Didn’t they go to high school together?” Steve asked. “They’ve known each other forever.”

“Exactly!” Jonathan exclaimed, surging forward enough to jolt Nancy who was perched under his arm. “It’s like, you’ve known each other for so long and you both know you like each other, so why are you just waiting around for something to happen?”

Steve opened his mouth to reply, but one of the bartenders appeared at the end of the table. Earl, you remembered, and from the way his face lit up, he remembered you, too.

“Y/N!” he called, and you waved politely. “I haven’t seen you here for ages! We missed you at Eddie’s set last week. I almost called you when he got so wasted he couldn’t walk, but he insisted he was fine. Stumbled out of here by himself with nothing but his wits. Stupid boy.”

Despite everything, a pang of worry shot through you. “Oh,” you said awkwardly, “I—yeah, Eddie and I aren’t really…” You trailed off, and Earl’s face fell a fraction.

“Ah, well, next round is on me,” he told you, and you sent him a grateful smile as he disappeared into the throng of people.

You weren’t quite sure what to do with yourself, and Steve picked up on it, launching back into the conversation with Jonathan.

That seemed to be your general state of being now. Unsure.

You were unsure who you were without Eddie. You were unsure how you could go forward when a small part of you kept wanting to go back. Back to the man that you had made plans with for after graduation. The man who you had promised to be with forever; promised to build a life with outside of Hawkins in less than a few months.

Eddie still hadn’t tried to see you. He still hadn’t called, or come to your house, or even tried to accost you at school like Chrissy had.

Over the past two weeks, you hadn’t even seen him in the halls at school, or the cafeteria, despite his van being in the parking lot every day.

He simply disappeared from your life, and you weren’t sure if that was a good thing or not.

The lump in your throat made itself apparent, just like it always did. It practically lived within you now.

You slid out of the booth, shooting your friends a quick glance. “Bathroom,” you said quickly, before weaving past people you both recognised and didn’t. Most of the people you only knew because of Eddie.

The bathroom was empty. A small mercy, as you locked the door and sat on the lid of the toilet, head in your hands.

Coming here so soon was a mistake. It was too much.

You pressed the heels of your palms into your eyes, quietly savouring the pressure.

You didn’t belong here without Eddie.

You didn’t belong anywhere without Eddie.

No matter how much you tried to kid yourself, nothing felt right without him.

There was a knock on the door, but you ignored it.

You hadn’t ever even been to The Hideout without him. It was his place, and you just tagged along, ringing in the perks of being with the band. Which weren’t many except maybe a few free drinks here and there.

But to everyone you met there, you were Eddie’s.

And now you weren’t.

And that hurt so much.

Someone knocked again, and this time you shouted, “Give me a minute!”

The person on the other side was silent, and you rubbed at your eyes, patterns playing behind your eyelids in a kaleidoscope of colours and shapes.

It was comforting, somehow.

The door clicked open, and your head shot up to see Nancy standing there, hair pin in hand. “Sorry,” she said, looking only slightly guilty. “I wanted to check on you. I was worried.”

You scoffed. “What if I was peeing?”

She shut the door. “Then we would have known each other a lot more intimately than we did ten seconds before now.” She eyed you up and down, eyes not missing a thing. She was so perceptive that it was almost scary. “Too much?”

You nodded. “Too much.”

“We can go, you know? We don’t have to stay if it’s making you upset.”

“I—I want to. I just—” You waved your hands around. “—It doesn’t feel right. Without him. Nothing does.”

Nancy gave you one of her closed mouth smiles. “I know it feels that way now, but it will get better. I promise.” She knelt before you, hands on your knees as she leaned down to catch your eye. “What he did, you can’t go back, no matter how much you want to.”

You chewed the inside of your cheek. “How long will it take?” You felt like a child asking questions that didn’t have an answer.

Nancy shrugged. “I don’t know. But I do know that a week ago, this would have sent you spiralling. And now, you’re not even crying.” You blinked, feeling for the first time that your eyes were dry. She smiled. “Time, honey. You just need time.”

+

“Why are we here again?” you grumbled to Jonathan as you both got out of his car on the main street.

“Because one: I need help carrying all this to the car, and two: I also need help putting it together,” he told you.

“And why am I tasked in helping you put your brother’s Christmas present together? It’s still months away.”

Jonathan sighed, all mock disappointment. “Well, you weren’t my first choice, but everyone else is busy.”

You jabbed your finger into his arm. “That’s mean, you know that?”

“Maybe if you stopped complaining so much, we’d already be done,” he teased, and you rolled your eyes.

The main street wasn’t as busy as you thought it would be on a Saturday mid-afternoon.

People still meandered up and down the street, but most were on a mission, like you and Jonathan.

Jonathan hadn’t even explained exactly what it was that you were picking up and putting together. You just knew that he was really excited about giving it to Will. And you could hardly say no to him when it was practically saying no to sweet, little Will.

“Don’t forget we have to pick Lucas and Max up from the arcade on the way back,” you reminded him.

“Why do we have to do that again?”

“Because you recruited me and I already said yes to them, so we have to combine plans.” You side stepped a large group of elderly women who pushed straight through the middle of you two. Jonathan kept walking and was a few metres ahead by the time the group of ladies finished filing past.

You stepped off to follow after him when your name was called from across the street.

Looking up, you froze as Eddie came rushing across the street towards you.

It was as if every single thought you’d ever had emptied from your mind as he came to a stop a few feet from you.

His hair was just as messy as it always was, and you noted the faded bruise on his cheekbone. You didn’t have to guess where that had come from, and the bags under his eyes were much more prominent than they normally were.

Seeing him now, your stomach churned with so many different emotions that you weren’t even sure what you were feeling.

He was a little out of breath as he said, “Can I talk to you? Please?” His dark eyes were pleading, and you fought against the urge to instantly cave, just like you always did when he shot you his puppy dog eyes.

“I—”

You were cut off when Jonathan suddenly appeared beside you. He looked beyond angry; his brows creased, and his top lip pulled back. “I thought we told you to keep your distance, Munson,” he ground out.

Eddie looked surprised to see him. He obviously thought you’d been alone. “I just want to talk, man. Please. I’ve stayed away, but I need to talk to you.” He directed the last bit at you. “Please.”

You didn’t think that you’d heard him say please so much in his life. He was practically begging.

“What do you want to say?” you asked timidly. Eddie glanced between you and Jonathan. “It’s fine, Jonathan. Just give me a minute?”

He looked unsure, but eventually conceded, shooting Eddie a dirty look as he made his way up the street just enough to give you some privacy. You had known him long enough to know that he was still within hearing distance.

“What did you want to talk about?”

When Eddie’s eyes finally found yours again, they looked pained. “I…I wanted to talk about us.”

“There is no us, Eddie.”

“I know. I know that. But I’m so, so sorry. You have no idea how hard these past few weeks have been for me. Staying away from you—”

“How hard they’ve been for you?” You laughed, right in his face. “How do you think they’ve been for me? You didn’t even try and see me.”

“Steve and Jonathan told me not to. They said—”

“I don’t give a shit what Steve and Jonathan said. You cheated on me and then just abandoned me.” Your voice wavered, and you hated that Eddie caught it.

He tried to reach for you, but you stepped back and pulled your hand away. His eyes flashed with hurt, and you squashed the part of you that felt bad. “And I’m so sorry, sweetheart. It was a mistake.”

You closed your eyes for a second, hating the way your pet name rolled off his tongue. The pet name that he hadn’t used in the weeks before Halloween. It had become non-existent once he started seeing Chrissy.

“How many times?” you asked suddenly.

He looked confused. “What?”

“How many times, Eddie?” you repeated. You didn’t want to say the words out loud.

Understanding your meaning, his eyes found the ground. He was silent for a long moment. “Six,” he mumbled.

You choked. “Six?” You took another step back.

“It—Y/N, wait—”

“—Six times you slept with her and then came home to me?”

You weren’t even sure why you were entertaining this conversation. You knew that it was only going to end up with you hurting more than you already were.

“No, I never saw you on those days,” he confessed.

You stared at him. “Is that supposed to make it better?”

His eyes widened, and he rushed out, “No, no. I’m just trying to explain.”

The melancholic agony that you’d been stuck in for weeks was suddenly sharpening. The razor’s thin edge became no longer wanting or not wanting, it became anger and rage. “There is nothing you could possibly explain to make this better.”

His voice became pleading, and he stepped towards you as if you were going to suddenly disappear. “Please, baby, it was a mistake. Chrissy—she’s not you. I want you. I need you—”

Your fist was flying before you could stop it, and you only registered what you had done when your knuckles stung.

Eddie reeled back, and you stared wide-eyed at him. His hand went to his face, holding the spot between his cheekbone and his nose.

He opened and closed his mouth.

“I loved you, Eddie,” you uttered, clutching your fist in your other hand. “I gave you everything, and it still wasn’t enough for you. I needed my boyfriend to love me enough to not sleep with other people.”

Jonathan was suddenly standing beside you.

“Fuck you, Eddie,” you spat as Jonathan took your arm. “I don’t need you anymore.”

If Eddie was going to say something, you didn’t find out, because Jonathan was pulling you up the street past the onlookers who were gawking at both you and Eddie.

“Are you OK?” he asked.

“No,” you muttered, and you weren’t sure if it was the adrenaline or just pure mania, but you started to laugh. “That really fucking hurt. I think I broke my hand.”

+

Pulling the door open to Family Video an hour before closing, you were pleased to see it was empty aside from the man you were looking for.

“Harrington,” you called as the door shut behind you, “I need a movie recommendation.”

Looking up from where he was leaned against the counter flicking though a magazine, Steve seemed both surprised and happy to see you. “You’ve come to the right place,” he declared, standing up. “We have movies galore. What are you looking for?”

You grinned as you reached the counter. “Something funny, but also a little sad, with a killer soundtrack.”

He pretended to ponder for a moment. “Sounds an awful lot like your favourite movie,” he pronounced.

“Someone has to keep this place afloat. Why not me and my little favourites?”

Steve rolled his eyes playfully. “Where would we be without you?” he joked, pulling a tape from beneath the counter and setting it in front of you.

You raised a brow. “You had it sitting back there already?”

He shrugged. “Had a hunch.”

Reaching for the cash in your pocket, you hissed when your knuckles caught the lip of the pocket. Steve noticed, and his eyes shot to your hand.

“I heard you socked Munson in the face today,” he remarked, and you couldn’t quite tell the tone he used.

“Yeah,” you said sheepishly, placing the money on the counter.

He held out his hand, wagging his fingers. “Let me see.”

Gingerly, you placed your hand in his own, watching as he studied your knuckles. Unlike his, the skin of your knuckles was still intact, but they were slowly starting to bruise.

And they hurt like hell. You didn’t know how people did it over and over again. Just one mediocre punch and you were sure you wouldn’t be able to hold a pencil for a week.

“We match,” you observed, and he shot you a disapproving look.

“Not really something I wanted to match you for.” He brushed his thumb over them, and you winced. “You’re lucky it’s not broken.”

“Jonathan already gave me that spiel,” you muttered. He had seriously ripped into you on the drive from the main street. Not only had you ruined his plans for the day and still forced him to pick up Lucas and Max, but he then had to take you to the hospital which he was less than impressed with.

The verdict had been bruised knuckles and not a break, but the doctor had advised you to lay off punching people in the face in the future.

Still looking at your hand, Steve started chuckling and you narrowed your eyes. “What?”

He shook his head. “I just can’t believe you punched him in the main street.”

“He’s the one who came at me. If anything, he chose the location,” you tried to justify.

Steve smiled. “I’m proud of you,” he said after a second. “I know it was hard for you.”

Your heart squeezed in your chest. “Thank you, Stevie.”

And you really meant it.

You had no doubt that if it weren’t for the support of your friends, you wouldn’t be where you were. If it weren’t for them, you might never have known about Eddie and Chrissy.

And as much as you had been confused and upset about not seeing Eddie in the last few weeks, Steve’s threats about giving you space were the best thing that could have happened. Because you would have gone back to him if he showed up on your doorstep. You would have continued to bleed yourself dry for him over and over again.

Steve tapped your fingers, and you looked back at him.

Like Nancy said, it would still take some time.

But you were all right with that.

[penvisions]

sweetening the deal {by the grit of sandpaper}

Pairing: Jackson! Joel Miller x Patrol Partner! Reader

Summary: Tommy Miller asked you to take his place beside his brother on patrols, and you're determined to not let him down even if you're far too awkward around the older Miller you don't know very well.

Word Count: 1.2k

Warnings: canon typical language, pining, requited unrequited feelings, joel is so soft in this, heart of gold joel, carpenter joel, woodworking joel, artisan joel, patrol partnership, lots of feelings, joel miller's body needs its own warning, tooth rotting fluff, mostly joel pov, SET BEFORE THE FIRST CHAPTER

A/N: dear @copperhalfcent submitted a drabble emoji as part of the final chapter celebration and of course i got carried away, what a bummer, huh? here's this for y'all to enjoy until the final chapter comes out! ♡♡

ao3 link || series masterlist || main masterlist || ko-fi

A rather loud crack of cartilage startles you, your gun aimed toward the direction Joel approached you and the horses from. He had dismounted to check out the small wisps of smoke with an urgent but quiet request to remain behind.

“Just me ‘n my bad back.”

“Should soak in some hot water when we get back.” You say as you lower the barrel, turning your attention to the tittering horses. You miss the way his eyes darken at the image of you covered in nothing but scented bubbles flashing in his mind. It was the middle of summer, your shirts having given way to tank tops that gave the man more than a glimpse of the swell of your breasts glistening with sweat. His hands twitch at his sides, his own gun secure over his back, pistol nestled in the holster at his hip.

“Afraid that won’t do much at my age.”

“You’re not that much older than me.”

“I’m far older than you, you can’t be more’n forty.”

“Tommy’s got a few on me, but he said you’re not much older than him?”

“I’m fifty-seven, he’s about fifty. Even older with a birthday comin’ up soon. More’n a few years, actually.”

“Oh. Well, I always did go for older guys.” And fuck if his cock didn’t twitch and his stomach didn’t swoop at the implications of your words. You must’ve realized they were uttered aloud as you spin back to face him with a twisted face, heat tinging the tops of your ears and your chest rising with a deep exhale of an apology he didn’t think was necessary.

“Shit. That was wildly inappropriate, Joel. I’m so sorry.” The worry in the lines of your face, the few wrinkles he could see around your eyes made his stomach swoop again. You were so god damn expressive once he got you talking, something relatively new as you both got used to being around each other, reading each other’s moods.

“No need to apologize, we all got our preferences.”

“Still, you-you’re…I’m just gonna shut up now.” He could hear the clack of your teeth as you snap your jaw shut, tense at what he figured you thought was too forward of a conversation with someone who you interacted with only a few times a week. But he frowned, not liking the way you interpreted their easy-going patrols that had begun to develop into something he would call genuine friendship.

“Nah, is okay. Filters are for people who actually say inappropriate stuff. You’re fine, Olive.” He watches the way you begin to lead the horses down an overgrown path, falling into step behind you. Something that paired with the smoldering fire he had found keeping his eyes and ears open to those responsible. “When’s your birthday?”

“I’m a winter baby, which is ironic because I don’t like the cold.” His eyes trace the same line a drop of sweat as it makes its way from your braided hair and down the back of your neck. The increasing heat not seeming to bother you as it did so many others who had the relieve of central air in Jackson.

“Not a fan either, being from Texas we didn’t get much of it.” Joel realizes he hadn’t told anyone of his past other than Ellie in…god knows how long. You were smart though, no doubt picking up on the twang his voice carried, the particulars of it telling of his past just as much as his answers to each new question. But he was willing to share it with you, something about you softening the edges of the walls he had built up around himself. Of wanting to find out what you had in common and what you didn’t.

“Do you…like sweets?”

“Huh?” Even if he were privy to the innerworkings of your mind, the question would still have caught him off guard, doubly so since he wasn’t.

“Uh…sweets? Like cake or tart or even muffins?” Nervous, he realized, you were nervous around him sometimes. But it was so unlike the rest of the town, nervous as in worried about accidentally offending him or saying the wrong thing, not nervous he was going to throttle them. He had done his best to work alongside Tommy, to appease Maria and the council, to show them that he was committed to turning a new leave and abiding by their way of life to ensure he and Ellie had a place to call home. It had been a rough couple of months, but you sure as hell sweetened the deal.

“Wouldn’t say no to ‘em, but never went out of my way to get any for myself.” The question of who he would go out of his way to get them fore glints in your eye, but you purse your lips and refrain from another question. He rather likes betting against himself to see if you would ask the many he sees cross your face. Your brow was twitch just before you did, if you allowed yourself. Your lips would twitch if you didn’t, like you were holding back the words springing up in your mind.

After a rather awkward first couple of patrols, he had realized the set of his face may have come across as uninterested. But you were so sweet, so quiet and he found himself wondering about you beyond the bubble of time you shared while out on patrol. Tommy had barked a laugh when he asked how long you had been here, the glimmer of teasing only a younger sibling was capable of lighting up his face. Longer than him, he had said. Which meant you had to have been a part of it for a while.

Time passes and his birthday is suddenly something Tommy makes a point to stop by the house with a classic yellow cake covered in chocolate frosting.

Figured you for a simple man, so a simple cake seemed the safest bet. Hope the day is good to you, Olive.

The note attached to it was inscribed with beautiful, looping writing. Tommy had remarked that you were the go to baker for cakes, even if the requests were made at the mess hall where he learned you were one of the cooks behind the scenes. Each new piece of you he learned making him want to know more. With the thought to thank you next patrol, he accepted the cake and his brother’s company.

Ellie had made him breakfast before school, but he had remained inside all day, busing himself with cleaning and carving to ignore the memories the date always brought up. But that evening, he smiled over a small dinner with his brother as they cut into the cake almost immediately after. Glad he had opened up to you and to find that you thought of him as much as he was beginning to think of you. He would return the favor by bringing coffee, something he was learning was a commodity few had a steady supply of. A branch of his own to let you know he didn’t think you were being too forward in any capacity.

Even more so when he noticed a third slice stolen from the platter it was delivered on the next morning, a card beside it from Ellie wishing him another year for her to tease him.

taglist: @joelsgreys @morning-star-joy @sawymredfox @pascalpvnk @littlemisspascal @merz-8 @orcasoul @sabmat @dreamingofleon

@keylimebeag @picassopedro @tuquoquebrute @alejaa-a @jessthebaker @joeloverture @joelscruff @swiftispunk @tightjeansjavi @undercoverpena @corazondebeskar @honeyedmiller @novas-dreamworld @slugz-writes-shit @hiroikegawa @dugiioh @persephone-girl @furiousmushroom @copperhalfcent @lizlil @hiddenbabynyc @part2joelmiller @formulafun @noisynightmarepoetry @sofiparallel @blueberrylemon7 @maryrhodalouandted @joelsdagger @fluff-lover

@communism-bitches @slugz-writes-shit @mosssbawls @vie-is-punk

@ohhellotherebumblebee @koshkaj-blog @r4vens-cl4ws @picketniffler @joeldjarin

[finniestoncrane]

Portrait Session

Capullo!Riddler x GN!Reader, word count: 1k commission: artist reader is propositioned by edward nygma to paint a portrait of him showcasing all his best features... 💚 commission me here! request info • prompt list • send me a request • kofi • masterlist minors DNI!! 🔞 cw: non-consensual nudity from eddie but is that really a negative? plus some suggestive stuff

Usually, the end of the day was your favourite time in the studio. There was something soothing about tidying up and cleaning things away. It provided that sense of completion, even if you hadn’t manage to get very far in any pieces through the hours you’d spent there. So it was more irritating than anything else when you were suddenly interrupted as you washed your brushes in the sink. You could smell the overly fragrant cologne before you could feel the hand over your mouth, feel the warmth of the breath before the words were whispered into your ear.

“Ok… don’t do anything stupid… because we know how this goes… just, turn around slowly and I might uncover your mouth, ok?”

You nodded, rolling your eyes as you placed the voice. Nothing surprised you much in Gotham anymore, and very little scared you. But there was one thing that you found annoying, more than anything else, and now you were face to face with it.

“Edward Nygma, The Riddler, but of course, you know who I am.”

He flashed a grin and let go of your mouth.

“Yep. Very aware of you.”

“Oh, a fan, hm?”

He raised his eyebrows a few times, smiling at you with a lewd grin.

“Hardly. How did you get in here?”

“I’m The Riddler, idiot. That’s what you’re wondering? Not why I’m here, or what I might do to you?”

He winked and you felt your eyes roll again. Everything about him bothered you, and to be perfectly honest you would rather he killed you or knocked you out to steal whatever he might need, anything to stop him from talking.

“Ok, fine. Enlighten me.”

“Well, you never replied to my email enquiry. So I thought I’d stop by in person.”

“Oh! Yes! I remember that…”

A few weeks ago, you had received a curious email regarding the potential for you to capture the likeness of him in a portrait. You had initially thought it might be a scam, or a prank, but the ludicrous amount of compliments regarding his own features, and the horribly self-indulgent signature which was filled with riddles and more compliments, assured you that it might be genuine. And of course, if it was, you wanted nothing to do with it.

“So you did read it. And you chose not to respond to me?”

“Yep. Don’t get told ‘no’ often, huh?”

“Not by anyone that matters. And ordinarily, you definitely wouldn’t matter. But… your art is… different. Better. I like it. And I really, really want you to paint me.”

You shook your head silently, but he kept pleading.

“Come on! I can make it worth your while. Very worth your while.”

“I doubt that very much.”

Ignoring the suggestive grin on his face, you chose to take a look down his body, letting your gaze linger on his crotch as you served your cutting response.

“Ouch. But I was actually thinking monetarily, for once.”

Taking a quick look around the studio, you considered what a little bit of extra cashflow could do for you. New paints, new materials, restock the cabinets. Maybe add a skylight if he was feeling extra generous.

“Ok… fine. I’ll paint your portrait. Let me get my things set up and we can bash this out as quickly as possible.”

“That’s usually how I operate.”

Scoffing at him, you turned to grab your supplies, some brushes, a canvas, some paints, and when you returned your gaze to Edward Nygma, you found him shirtless and removing his pants.

“Hey! What are you doing?”

“Uh… duh?”

He spread his arms out to the side, displaying his undressed form to you as his pants slid down his waist, leaving him in just his underwear.

“You’re gonna paint me nude.”

“I am?”

He threw his head back, sighing in exasperation.

“It really is me looking at my best, and I’m sure you’ll agree once you’ve seen me in all of my glory.”

You covered your eyes with your hand and turned your head slightly as Eddie removed his underwear, but you stole a quick glance at him before he told you to open your eyes. Facing him completely, you blinked a few times to adjust to the view.

“Well… see anything you like?”

Annoyingly, you did. He was slim, not toned, with a soft patch of red chest hair, and another patch of the same bright hue around his flaccid cock. And as he grinned, the self-satisfied smirk that usually irritated you, you found yourself blushing slightly.

“Let’s just get started now, come on.”

“Ah, ah, ah! Not quite yet, still got one more thing to do.”

He reached down to his cock, gripping it in his hand, and began to stroke it.

“Woah! Hey! What are you doing?”

“Well, I’m not going to have a portrait painted where I’m not looking my best or biggest.”

“Oh my god.”

“I’ll just be a second. Maybe you could… help me out?”

You let out an incredulous laugh, and he shrugged his shoulders.

“Suit yourself then.”

It was hard to take your eyes off of him as he stroked his cock, and you could see in your peripheral that he was staring intently back at you. Eventually though, the pleasure had taken precedent, and his eyes were closing as he let his mouth fall open. Soft sighs spilled out as his hand moved up and down his swiftly growing length quicker. You could tell he was reaching climax, which definitely wasn’t the point of this at all. And you knew, unfortunately, you should step in to prevent this from going any further.

“Ok… are you ready to start now, Mister Nygma?”

“Sure am, and I’m ready for some other things too.”

With another wink, he looked down to his cock, smiling back at you, a hopeful tone to his words. If he kept this up, you’d be here a lot longer than it would take you just to finish the painting.

[artbyblastweave]

Curious if you'd say you've ever seen a superhero work that genuinely deserved the alt-history genre classifier, and otherwise at what point its even possible to use it vs going 'this has decades of in-universe history but doesn't deserve to be called alt-history for [REASONS]'

Only one I can think of off-hand that has enough granulated timeline-development would be Wild Cards, but curious if you think others qualify and/or if you think WC doesn't qualify

I can't really comment on Wild Cards extensively (haven't read that much of it) but I can comment on a few other works. To briefly be the guy who talks about the same three works all the time:

Watchmen I think totally qualifies- Nixon is on his fifth term, electric cars are ubiquitous due to Dr. Manhattan's ability to synthesize lithium, Vietnam is the 51st state, the zeitgeist is consumed by pirate comics, and everyone in New York got murdered by a giant fake squid. And superheroes are real.

Unfortunately I also have to note that The Boys flirted with this; among other things, superheroic "intervention" resulted in the Brooklyn Bridge getting destroyed during 9/11, Prescott Bush and some of the other Business plot guys got wiped out during an attempted superheroic field test in World War 2, The War on Terror is being fought primarily in Pakistan, and Dakota Bob is president because George Bush Jr. killed himself playing with a chainsaw. The fact that none of this really pans out into a tangibly different society is deliberate, as part of the comic's drumbeat that superheroes, while roundly bad, also fundamentally don't matter, and are at best able to make things bad in different ways without really changing the shape of the structures that produced them.

Worm is in kind of a weird spot here- it objectively is an alternate history, countless things are different, whole nations are gone, we see a lot of alterations to the culture- but it gives limited airtime to a lot of the specifics of how things got to where they are, beyond the broad clusterfuck generated by the parahumans. To some extent, the fact that the world is radically different is downplayed until the back half because society at the start of the story is Stepford-smiling through an immanent apocalypse- and, you know, the immanent apocalypse is ultimately kind of the relevant difference from our world. But on the whole, I doubt there's a really tight worldbuilding document documenting all the ripple effects on the dramatis personae of history. The story's pretty vague about, for example, what the American presidential lineup has been since Reagan, what electoral politics look like in a world of Capes. It's vague about basically everything else in that nitty-gritty, concrete-details vein.

I do think that all of these, Worm in particular, highlight a major issue you're gonna run into when trying to do alternate universe stuff with capes, and it's that, first of all, doing really robust, thoughtful and fleshed-out alternate history is already really fucking hard, requiring a strong command of the history and culture of maybe up to the entire world, depending on the scope of your project- and superhero stuff already suffers from really strong American provincialism, so the depictions can get stupid fast if you aren't careful. Then on top of that the nature of the cape genre is that you're going to be following a pretty pared-down central cast; authorial and audience bandwidth will be tied up with what's going on with these specific guys over the course of their story, which can get in the way of a birds-eye view of their world, unless you're specifically structuring the story in a way to dodge that issue (which, you know, I get the impression Wild Cards did.)

I also think a commonality in the above works is that a lot of the alt-history changes are instrumental, included not as the result of the author trying to hyper specifically model falling dominoes from a specific point of change, but because they help the work to make its point. I doubt Alan Moore has a one-hundred-page forum thread detailing the fallout of America winning the Vietnam War, but such a thing would be beside the point- which is that God being an American Agent would fuck shit up geopolitically, regardless of the specifics. I mean a lot of this is vibes-based already, right? In objective terms the MCU has been an alternate history for years, but it doesn't claim that label, doesn't market itself as such, so it isn't. I think it comes down to whether you decide to wear that outfit on the runway, and how well it hangs on you once you've opened yourself to judgement on those grounds.

[wannaeatramyeon]

your sammy content has me screaming, blushing, giggling and kicking my legs!!! idk if you write for this stuff, but would you mind writing what yandere sammy, gun and goo would be like? have a wonderful day <3 - 🌺anon

Fanon Sammy has me reacting exactly the same tbh! TYSM for reading and the ask 🌺🌺🌺🌺❤️

Oof. Toxic, abusive relationships? (And this is also a trigger warning). I haven't made this as dark as it could be but here we go...

Lookism Yanderes: Gun Park, Goo Kim, Samuel Seo

A snippet into their toxicity

Gun Park

"How was school?"

You land on the sofa with a crash next to Gun.

Ugh. School was... school. Albeit a little better this week than it has been. The worst of your project work is over and that idiot in your class hasn't been around.

"Is that classmate still giving you trouble?"

"Huh? Oh. I haven't seen him this week."

"Hmm. Interesting."

Something about the way Gun says that draws your attention.

Why is he smiling? Is he happy that you're happy or-

Come to think of it. You haven't seen him since you last mentioned him bullying you to Gun.

... Everyone who causes you trouble has a habit of going 'missing'.

There was the group of girls who harassed you. Some drunken idiot who catcalled. This classmate who started picking on you. And actually, that boy you made friends with a few months back and Gun had disapproved when you told him.

The dots start to connect.

You startle back to the present and notice Gun staring intently at you. He knows that you know.

"Don't be scared, Y/N. I'm only doing this to protect you."

You know your boyfriend is violent, but you never thought-

"Are they..." you can't bring yourself to say the word 'dead'. The idea that Gun killed these people terrifies you.

"Not dead. They just aren't here anymore." Gun notices the shock written all over your face. He continues, "Y/N, haven't I made your life so much easier?"

And that is true. To an extent. But-

"You understand I would never hurt you?"

Wouldn't he? You suppose he has never laid a hand on you. You nod.

"You trust me?"

That, you do. He has never given you reason to doubt him. You nod again.

"Say the words."

"I trust you..."

"And?"

"It's for my own good." you say, even as the insidious grip of fear starts to wind its way around your neck.

Goo Kim

The bell to the cafe jingles, signalling a new patron. You put on your peppiest customer service smile.

Oh. Your face falls when you see who it is.

"You're here again?"

Goo just grins, taking his usual spot right by the counter. Right by you. "Yes my little sweetpea. Just visiting my love at work!"

It started as a nice gesture, Goo occasionally popping in. And if he wasn't here then he would be constantly texting you.

(He sulked for a week straight when you told him you weren't allowed your phone when you're working. Somehow you felt personally responsible for this despite it being a work policy.)

His quick coffee breaks turned into a few hours of lingering then eventually staying during your entire work schedule.

It is too much. Far too much.

"Goo... You know I got told off last time when you stayed for my whole shift."

"Is your manager still giving you a hard time!" Your boyfriend looks at you with the saddest puppy eyes and a pout. Goddamn it. Why are you the one feeling guilty.

You press on with what you want to say anyhow, "... Don't you think you being here all the time is a little inappropriate?"

Not just a little - a lot, you think. And not inappropriate - completely suffocating. But you are careful with your words.

"No! How could you think that..." The sulk intensifies and Goo looks genuinely upset. Ah shit. You're about to apologise- "Besides, I think your new boss would be fine with this."

In a blink of an eye, the mood changes. Goo looks happy. Manic, almost.

You narrow your eyes at him. What is he up to. "How do you know?"

"Let's just say I know him very personally."

"Who is it?"

"Your beloved - me! I bought this little cafe! Now I can see you all day every day!"

Seriously? This is ridiculous.

Your eyes quickly dart towards the other customers and your coworkers. You can't make a scene and frankly, you don't have the energy for this fight.

Nor do you want to put up with a week straight of tantrums until you inevitably suck it up and apologise.

Instead, you attempt your customer service smile again.

You hope it works.

Samuel Seo

Entering the living room, you are immediately greeted by Samuel glaring at you.

"Where have you been?"

"Didn't you see my text?" You are sure you texted him before you left, telling him not to wait for you for dinner.

"I must have missed it." His expression doesn't change. "Where did you go?"

It was nothing special. You just had a catch up with a few classmates over a meal. Your eyes glance at the clock. It's not even 8pm.

"Who were you with?"

You explain (and you did mention if he had just checked his phone), but Samuel makes you list out every person.

"There were guys there?"

You frown at him. Well, yes but it's not like it wasn't a group-

"Am I not enough for you?"

The question surprises you but you read between the lines. You know Samuel has his insecurity issues, and you have been trying to work through them with him. Surely, this should have been fine.

"Of course you are," You try to defuse the situation, yet the doubt creeps in that you could have been more considerate.

"I would be more comfortable if you asked first." Samuel approaches you, angry and disappointed. "How am I supposed to concentrate on work if I don't know where you are?"

"But I did text-"

"Do you want me to lose my job?"

You shake your head.

"Everything I've worked for?" Samuel looms over you, looking furious.

You shake your head again.

"Then why is it too much to ask you to ask me first before you wander off?"

Your eyes start to well up with tears.

"Don't be like that." Immediately the anger is gone, replaced by concern, "I'm only worried about you."

His hand reaches out to stroke your cheek, and you lean into it - does this mean that the worst of the storm seems to be over?

"You know I love you, right?"

Of course. It's obvious that Samuel loves you. And you love him too. He's only doing this for your sake.

"I know. Sorry for making you worry."

[klausysworld]

Okok, I have never requested before but I first just want to say I literally have never seen anyone that captures the characters of Tvdu so well. I mean you truly are gifted it genuinely feels illegal that I get to read your stuff for free so thank u fro making my nights much more exciting. Ok so I wanted to request like a klaus mikaelson smut but like the reader is real shy and he wants to try smt new and then they end up doing a 69. Obviously only if u want to I mostly just wanted to show my love for you ❤️❤️

New positions

I swallowed nervously as Klaus’ hands slid up and down my body under my shirt. He had been insisting on trying something with me I hadn’t done yet. I was a virgin when I met Klaus do everything I had done with him was new, he was very supportive and helped me become more comfortable with the physical aspect of out relationship. Though I still got anxious.

His lips left my neck and he looked down at me from his kneeled position on the bed while I mimicked his stance and tilted my head up at him. His fingers traced the spot his mouth had been sucking at as his eyes gazed into mine.

His lips pulled up to a small smile as his hands fiddled with the v-neck of my top. His knuckles brushed over my cleavage making my heart speed up slightly.

I moved my arms through the sleeved and lifted the shirt over my head. His smile became more lopsided as his eyes trailed down my upper body.

“Do you trust me, my love?” He asked as he pulled the straps of my bra down my arms. I nodded slowly and he smiled “then trust me when I promise you that you will enjoy what I have in store for you” he hummed and I smiled up at him nervously

“Okay” I whispered and he smiled while unclipping the bra from behind me and taking it off of me entirely. “What is it that you want to do?” I asked quietly as his hands began to fondle with my breasts.

“Something you’ll enjoy” he murmured “I can promise you that sweetheart”

“Is it a new position or is it new…toys?” I asked quietly with a growing blush on my cheeks at the memory of the last time he had convinced me to do something new.

He chuckled lowly and pressed his lips to my forehead tenderly “a position, this time, sweetheart” he revealed

“Do you want me to be on top again?” I whispered “y-you know I wasn’t great at it and-“

“Nonsense my lovely, you were brilliant” he cut me off as his thumbs circled my nipples slowly “and you had a good time, did you not?”

“I- of course I did but you-“

“Believe me sweetheart, it was incredibly pleasurable for me too” he told me quickly “now I want no more of this doubt love, you are going to be magnificent” he hummed with a smile while his eyes glanced between mine and the hardening nipples he was now pinching and playing with.

“Does…does that mean I am on top?” I asked meekly while holding in any whimpers that threatened to escape as he licked his thumbs and rolled them over my erect nubs.

“Yes love, you will be but in a different way than you may think” he tells me but only confusing me further

“What d’you mean?” I asked with a small moan when his head went down and he kitten licked over the nipples

“Well I would tell you the term but I don’t believe your innocent little mind would know what I mean” he murmured. He sat back up right and took my face in his hands, “you remember when I had my face between your gorgeous thighs love?” He questioned and I nodded “well it’s a little like that. You’ll be sat on my face sweetheart” he stated rather confidently

I could feel my face getting hotter as his eyes remained on mine “how…how is that good for you?” I asked confused and he smiled

“Well, if you are to feel comfortable enough…” he cleared his throat and rubbed my shoulders, his jaw clenched and unclenched as he thought over his next words

“What is it?” I asked quietly

“I don’t want it to come across as vulgar or demanding…I wouldn’t expect you to if you didn’t want-“

“You want me to put my mouth on you too?” I asked. I had only done it once, it was the only other time he had seemed hesitant to ask something of me.

“Yes…would you do that for me sweetheart?” He questioned, his tone softer. I nodded shortly and he smiled with a gentle look in his eye. “If you are to change your mind then I will still take great enjoyment with you riding my face” he added with a grin making me groan quietly and lower my head in embarrassment.

His hand patted my hair as he let out a soft chuckle. “What happens if-“

“Hush my love, nothing bad will happen. You’ll enjoy it, I promise you” he kissed my lips lightly and pulled me on top of him as he let himself fall back against the bed. I let out a giggle as I lay on top of him, my face in his neck and his hands on my bare back. His fingers lazily ran up and down my spine making me shiver against his. His hands smoothed down to my ass and smacked it playfully making me squeak and hold onto his henley. “I do wish you wouldn’t wear underwear when you’re at home with me” he muttered while unzipping my skirt

“You’d rather i didn’t wear anything at all” I giggled, I could sense his smirk as he kissed the top of my head

“I most certainly would not complain”

I nuzzled the crook of his neck as my skirt and panties were removed from my body. I lay completely naked on top of his fully clothed body, it seemed to be a rather common occurrence if I’m honest.

“You still have your clothes on” I whispered

“Mhm is that an issue my dear?” He murmured back and I nodded

“It’s not fair”

“You didn’t mind it last time” he uttered and i could feel my face getting redder.

“That was different…you distracted me” I mumbled and he hummed

“Alright sweetheart, I’ll make it even for you” he pulled my chin up and pecked my lips several times making my eyes shut for a moment before he rolled back on top of me. I looked up as he pulled his henley over his head and my eyes danced down his body. I glanced to his darkening eyes before back down as his belt was thrown aside and his jeans were pushed down his legs and kicked off.

“Can I help?” I whispered glancing to his boxers which barely contained his erection as he tossed his socks and pulled me back above him.

“Of course you can my love, you always have free reign of my body” he pulls my head down and I kissed his lips gently before he moulded them together a little harsher. His hips bucked up so his covered cock would knock against me to make me whimper into his mouth.

I pulled away from before his tongue could get inside making him growl softly as his hands moved to grip my hips. “You make it so hard to keep any control of myself love” he mumbled with his eyes fixed on my lips.

I kissed his lips once more lightly before leaving a trail of them from his jaw to the waistband of his boxers. Fingers laced through my hair before it was pulled back into a loose ponytail “hairband” he whispered and I slipped it off my wrist for him to tie my hair up. Once up and out the way his hands slid on top of mine and we both pulled his briefs down in one swift motion. Despite having seen him a few times before, each time left me entirely speechless as his generous cock sprung up to smack his abdomen. I swallowed nervously and hesitantly neared it though his hand cupping my cheek caused my movements to pause.

His thumb brushed along my jaw back and forth, my vision lifted to her eyes in question “not quite the position you need sweetheart, nearly but not quite” he pulled me forward gently.

I crawled back up his body and he sat himself up on his elbows. “Spin around my lovely” he instructed while his hands reached for my hips. I could feel my heart beating faster as I turned around so my knees were either side of his head and my hands were either side of his hips.

“Klaus…I- Im not sure…I don’t think..”

“It’s alright love, if you change your mind that’s perfectly okay, can you just try it? You will most likely enjoy it sweetheart” he encouraged while gently pulling my hips down

“Okay…” I whispered

“That’s it sweetheart” he murmured, his breath fanning over my inner thigh before I fully sat on his face like I knew he desired me to. Though my hips quickly flew back up when his hot mouth cupped my pussy making him chuckle and pull me back down.

His tongue slid along my folds making a breath of air leave my lips and my head go fall forward making me take notice of his leaking tip just before me.

I nervously lowered myself to lay my breasts against his abdomen and brought my hand up to stroke him slowly as I squeaked out a moan as warmth enveloped my clit. “Klaus-“ I whispered as he nibbled lightly

“Come on sweetheart, you can do it” he muttered before his lips pressed kisses along me.

I whispered a breathy “okay” as I brought my lips around his tip and rolled my tongue over it. His instant groan spurred me to do so again resulting in a strong vibration to shoot through my core. I moaned in response and pushed my head down until he hit the back of my throat and my eyes watered.

His tongue slithered inside me making my hips roll against his mouth and a muffled cry to flow frown my throat through his dick. His own hips bucked up and I choked lightly around him earning an unapologetic “sorry” from him before he got right back to where he was.

“Oh god” I breathed as I pulled my mouth off him though my hands continued to jerk him quickly. A shiver ran along my spine and my eyes barely kept open as I ground myself against him. His tongue was fast and calculated with each movement, his hands griping my hips and ass bruisingly hard as his hips continued to jump to my hands. I bring one of them to lightly fondle his balls like I had learnt he liked.

My lower abdomen burned in a delightful way that had my lips trembling as they ghosted his dick once more. I brought him past them and sucked a little harder than I had before in an attempt to make him feel as good and he made me.

I swallowed around him. And took him deeper as I felt him brush that special spot inside me that he somehow always found. I could envision his smirk as my clit was rubbed at the same time and his hands helped my movements back and forth over his face.

A puff of hot air was blown onto me as my cheeks hollowed and I slid my mouth up and down his length like the last time he showed me to. A string of incoherent noises vibrated through my lower body making breathy cries to leave me and rolled through him.

I could feel my thighs begin to shake as every nerve in my body set ablaze. My gasp caused me to choke on him again which apparently pleased him as he groaned loudly and sucked at my clit so much that I couldn’t stop myself from cumming no matter how much I might’ve tried. And with that I felt his balls grow tighter in my hand before hot fluid hit the back on my throat and my ass was patted repeatedly before smoothed over as his tongue slipped all along my thighs. I swallowed a few times, my mind feeling hazy as I hesitantly pushed myself back up onto all fours and crawled off him to lay beside him.

His arm pulled me into his side so that his other could wrap around me.

“Not so bad was it my love?” He murmured with a smirk stretched across his face making my face heat up.

“I liked it” I whispered shyly and he hummed

“I’m glad you did y/n, now lets get you back on top hm?” He pulled me back over him and sat up slightly

“Again?” I asked nervously

“Can’t have my girl going on only one little orgasm now can I?” I tilted his head as his face held a faux offended expression as he got me to straddle his hips and guided his still hard dick inside me.

“Klaus…” I whispered and he grinned

“Be a good girl for me now sweetheart”

[streets-in-paradise]

Of Palaces, Princes and Magic - Thor x (Fem)Reader

Warnings: Clueless, powerless Thor from 2011. Tons of fluff

Summary: Wandering arround your home Thor discovers evidence of the fairytale fantasies of your childhood and promises to make your dreams come true.

Note: I wrote this last night on my phone with the last bits of battery I had and post it on the morning from the laptop. There is no editing or proofread.

Tags: @thorsslxve

Allowing a stranger inside your home wasn't your initial intention, but you kept stumbling with him untill you realized he had nowhere else to go. From the barely understandable bits of explanations you got from him, your first guess was that he may have just escaped from a cult, but that didn't make him necesarily dangerous. He was lost, clueless of the world after abandoning the place that was all he ever knew. You did remember him mentioning something over the lines of ' being casted out as a punishment' and that seemed to comfirm your theory. A cult linked to norse mythology, with a leader believing himself to be Odin who had raised him as his son.

Thor lived in a fantasy world and you could tell he was harmless because he never meant to hurt you in any way. He probably required of professional help, but to get there he needed to reach some bassical functionality. If many people would get to hear more of his nonsense, he would end up locked and that possibility saddened you deeply. As far as you could tell, he probably had been physically disconnected from the world all his life already. Besides, it was clear that he trusted you, because the out of place displays of odd arrogance he had with everyone else didn't happen much between you. For you he only had a quirky but lovely chivalry that sometimes was enough to make you live his fantasy for a while.

From all the decorative details in the place, his atention was focused in a miniature replica of Cinderella's castle you had on a table near your bookshelves. A beautifull toy incluiding small figures of characters to habitate it, so delicated and romantic that you kept it as decoration even if you wouldn't play with it anymore like when you were a little girl.

" Do you like it? " You asked him, followed with a sweet smile of encouragement. " It was my favorite growing up ... I'm a grown up woman and I still love it."

The last part of the explanation confused him a bit.

" I don't see why age would fundamentally change your appreciation, it's a fine sculpture of a castle fitting for the aesthetic preferences of a lady."

You couldn't help chuckling a bit, then showed him how to unfold the toy in order to see the inside and put it all back in.

" It's a toy, for little girls to play with." You corrected him. " Many girls enjoy playing pretend to be princesses as children, but when we reach a certain age we stop thinking of palaces, princes and magic... Unless we are reading a fantasy novel or something like that. It's stuff of tales and Disney movies, not reality."

The answer surprised him even more, but there was some sort of sadness in it. Pretty much as if he took pitty on the fact.

" Are people like me casted out to remain only in the literature of this realm?" He asked, with genuine curiosity. " Which tale does this castle tells? If there is any, as your words suggest."

Even in the simplest of details, the conversations with him allways felt like the dialogue of a fairytale.

" If someone would tell me that you have came out from the pages of a fantasy book, I would believe it."

" Yet you can't believe that Asgard is my homeland." He mocked you in return. " I'll convince you, all your doubts will be clarified once I will have my mighty power back."

You didn't argue with him, there was no need at the moment.

" Alright, your highness ... Do you still want me to tell you the tale?"

Thor smiled in agreement and you began to narrate using the playset castle as a visual guide. The fact that a grown man was just being introduced to the tale of Cinderella felt quite odd, but very cute. He was particularly intrigued with the fact that the King found no issue on letting his son marry a servant that presented herself to him magically disguised just because she was the owner of the crystal shoe.

" ... Even if she was the rightfull heir of the household, her stepmother made her a slave and that's a downgrade that should have disqualified her at the eyes of the King. How could the prince convince him of blessing that union? "

He was taking the story seriously and it was hard to provide answers in that perspective.

" I guess he simply indulged his son and let him marry the woman he loved. Prince Charming fell for Cinderella at the Royal Ball, he had no idea of who she was back then. The girl was a princess in spirit and maybe the King saw that, the crystal shoe proved her worthy of the prince."

For some reason, your answer made him smile a bight brighter than before.

" I believe you are a princess in spirit. " Thor sweetly confessed. " ... and a magnificent storyteller."

His pure cuteness was too much for you and behind your own smile heat has started to take over your face.

" Me, a princess? Please! You don't have to flatter me for hospitality. I haven't wore a tiara since I was eight."

Thor looked at the little figures of Cinderella and Prince Charming in their miniature balcony, then glanced back at you as if a new strange idea had just occured to him.

" What if you could experience what's like to be a princess? Would you believe me then?" He asked you out of sudden. " Not only about Asgard, but about my very sincere perceptions of you."

You began to wonder if the last part was some sort of romantical approach and were quite confused about that. He was very sweet and you loved his company. It could be said that you fancied him too, but encouraging him would be taking advantage of the strange situation and you would never do that.

" It's allright, Thor. I'm fine just like this. We are friends, you can help me arround ... "

" I insist, that's how I will repay you for all the troubles I have caused. " He cutted you off with determination. " I will take you to a real Royal Ball."

He sounded so serious about it that you began to question your own sanity.

" The noblefolk would be judging, It's a bad idea. "

" They will see you like I do." He optimistically replicated. " Your looks will reflect your royal spirit and you will not have to flee at midnight. If that's your desire, you will get to dance with a real prince ... Maybe two, if Loki also requires it. Ask him nicely and we may convince him of hexing your shoes to look as if made of crystal."

You giggled out of a pure,sweet surprise while hearing the details of the fantasy he was almost roping you in.

" That's very sweet. You are the sweetest man I have ever known."

You were gazing into each other's eyes when he formalized the promise.

"Currently less than what you deserve, but I will fix that soon. I will be back to my former glory, I will be worthy of you and In honor of your infinite kindness and patience, I shall make your dreams come true. "

[midnightsnyx]

“You don’t want me, I’m broken.” “I’m going to spend the rest of my life putting you back together” w/ nico hischier

tw just because the reader mentions previously bad relationships & has low self esteem.

Before Nico, you didn’t exactly have a great track record with relationships. Your previous partners always managed to make you feel like you were never good enough so when you started dating Nico, you had a wall up that no matter what he did, he couldn’t break it down. You were always waiting for the ball to drop, for him to decide you’re not worth the trouble and leave just like everyone else did but he stayed. He didn’t leave you like everybody did. There was always that doubt in the back of your mind though that he would leave, just as everyone else did.

It’s a good day when it happens. Nico has the day off so you’re both just relaxing and watching tv. Nico is laying on the couch with his feet on your lap, fiddling with something on his phone, glancing up at you every so often. Eventually he sits up and scootches towards you, passing you his phone. You look to see a post he has done up for your birthday on instagram but he hasn’t posted it yet.

“I wanted your permission to post this,” he explains when you give him a questioning look.

Your first reaction is to say no, because you’ve always been a bit self conscious when he posts stuff about you because the comments aren’t always the nicest. Some are nice, but some are just downright mean so you usually don’t look at them. But, his expression looks like a puppy dog so you nod and he grins, taking the phone and hitting the post button.

He leaves to take a shower and you make the mistake of opening instagram and reading the comments that are already flooding his comments section. There are lots of nice ones, people commenting on how cute of a couple you are, complimenting you and funnily enough, saying how cute Nico is. You don’t mind those comments because they’re usually harmless and Nico just laughs at them.

Then you see the mean ones. The ones that make you want to get in bed and crawl under the covers and not come out for hours. That is how Nico kind of finds you when he emerges from the shower. You’re curled up on the couch, sniffling a little bit and staring at the comments. He knows immediately what you’re doing and takes the phone out of your hand, setting it aside.

“Hey,” he says, “don’t listen to those comments.”

You want to listen, and agree that they aren’t worth getting upset over but some of the things people are saying are directly hitting all your insecurities. Shaking your head, you burrow further into the couch, ignoring Nico’s soft sigh as he gets up and leaves the room. You’re so in your head that you’re sure he’s going to pack up his stuff and leave so you feel like an idiot when he comes back, dressed because he was in a towel before.

“I’m not worth it,” you mumble, “you don’t want me. I’m broken.”

“Look at me,” he says, wiping tears from your face. “I don’t care how long it takes, I’m going to spend the rest of my life putting you back together.”

You look at him, studying his expression closely. All you’ve known is people leaving when things get hard, you’re not used to someone fighting for you so you still can’t help but be hesitant. His expression is earnest and you want to believe him so badly. You have to start somewhere though, so you just nod, giving him a small smile when he grins at you.

“Sure you’re up for the challenge?” you ask, trying to make it seem lighthearted but he nods and his smile is genuine.

“Always.”

[alchemicaladarna]

I've had a little more time to gather my thoughts after today's events, and while I do still feel sad and upset that this particular chapter has come to an end, I'm still very grateful that it happened.

I'm so grateful to all the good it has brought so many people. Helping many communities around the world unite and be able to talk to each other, breaking down language and cultural barriers just to freak out about their favorite cubitos.

I'm grateful for all the memories we made. The good and the bad. The sad and the happy. The ones where we all laughed at the silly moments and cried in the tragic ones. I'll look back on them very fondly, and I'm so glad to have been a part of the journey for most of the way.

I never thought I'd get back to watching another SMP after the dsmp ended to be honest. I was just kind of there for that server because I joined at the very end and only watched clip compilations and stuff. So when I heard Quackity was launching a server with Spanish and English speakers with some CC's who I already knew previously, I thought, huh. That's a neat concept I guess. I might not stick around for very long, but I'll check it out I think.

So I began to watch Phil's pov and vods, and I'll never forget the first time I saw an egg live- and just how their characters and stories completely captured my heart in a way that I can't even begin to explain. After that, I decided you know, I might have to stick around for a little while longer. And lo and behold, a year later, here we are.

I also admittedly didn't watch every streamer's pov so I'm not knowledgeable in every character's story, but because of you guys here on qsmpblr, I really felt like I was a part of every community when I read everyone's posts, theories, admire art, or fics people would write too.

I've switched povs a lot throughout the year and I just wanna say thank you to the Crows, Doozers, Jaiden fans (I forgot what you guys are called I'm sorry D':) and especially the Ghosties <3 for keeping me company. I genuinely feel so blessed to have interacted with all of you. Thank you for having me.

And yeah Ghosties, because of your streamer, I'm permanently stuck in that bell now so thanks a lot /j XD

To every fan, on tumblr and elsewhere, thanks for keeping this project- the characters and all the memories we made of it- alive in the fanart and fanfiction. You guys all work so hard and are so very talented too!

To every admin who was part of the project. Thank you for pouring so much love and contributing so much of yourself to the server. It wouldn't have been the same without you. Regardless of if you were a builder, an actor, a writer, etc. you made this project beyond amazing. If it weren't for you, I doubt this project would have reached the same heights that it did. Thank you for all the love, the memories, passion, and care you gave to the qsmp. You all are the best <33

A special thank you to my fellow ghosties here as well. Bad has genuinely become like, my comfort streamer this last year, and I wouldn't have discovered him if it weren't for you guys going crazy over his lore on the dash XD

Thank you everyone. Thank you admins. Thank you CC's . Thank you everybody. This was a wonderful experience and I hope this won't be the last.

This place will always hold a special place in my heart but for now...obrigada, merci, gracias, and buenas noches everyone <333

[howlingmod]

Slippery

summary ; Wally takes some advice to heart. Instructions unclear, succeeded anyway.

notes ; no pronouns used for reader , reader and wally enjoy annoying each other ( in a married couple way ) , not proof read

wc - 1.3k

It was a silly little idea, to be truthful.

You hadn't meant for him to take it seriously, but that may have been your first mistake. You knew he had a tendancy to confuse you being genuine with you joking, eyes studying your expression for some hint whenever you would say something he wasn't sure of. You hadn't, however, expected that he would stick to his interpretation this thoroughly, even when it became clear you weren't serious.

( Part of you almost thought it was spite- you could swear you gleamed it from the way he'd proudly planted his hands on his hips when he told you he'd go through with it anyway, no matter what you'd really meant. Despite the fact that, for a rare moment, his eyes were closed to further demonstrate his confidence, you'd still hid a grin behind one of your hands. Though, you were sure he could surmise your amusement from your tone when you'd hummed a little 'ah, I'm sure you will,' in response. That is, if the following 'Don't you laugh! I'm being serious!' was anything to go off of. )

It'd all started with you sitting by as Wally went about the motions of his morning routine- or, well, morning routine was something of a stretch. You loved him, no doubt about it, if you didn't you wouldn't spend so much time hanging around bickering with him. However, you also loved your own sanity, and waking up at the hours he did unfortunately went against that. Luckily, he'd eventually picked up some habit of inviting you over shortly after the time you usually got up for tea or coffee or some other drink he'd suddenly grown fascinated with before you both went about your days. While not entirely the same, it was a nice enough replacement, it gave you both a chance to see and talk to one another with some privacy.

You'd been at it again, sitting close by with some book you'd picked up because the cover had a pretty illustration of an orchard in some hilly, rich-green scenery taking up your attention. You could distantly pick out the clatter and shifting of things as Wally worked on the drinks. For someone who wasn't particularly crazy about the stuff, he'd always had some complicated methods of making coffee that you didn't quite understand. You'd shown off your much simpler, compact way of making it before, which only earned him half-heartedly shooing you off so he could do it his own way, huffing about how you were missing out on all the key steps. You didn't mind the wait, it was a bit of an added charm, a unique detail. And truthfully, it tasted better. You will not tell him this. He would never let you live it down.

( Darling as he may be, he still had some pride to him. )

"Dearest."

You'd hummed your acknowledgement, only tearing your attention fully away from the page about ... something, something, different kinds of fruit, something, something, identification of fruit-bearing trees. You'd found his attention turned in your direction, hands reaching up to the top shelf in one of Home's colorfully painted cabinets.

"Yeah?"

He'd continued staring at you for a brief moment before glancing back to the shelf, then looking back to you. It was a silent request that you understood loud and clear. Part of you wanted to wait a moment longer, see if he'd simply say it or if he'd die on this hill of 'I will not be giving you that satisfaction no matter how much my arms start cramping' silence. Another part of you could really use the coffee, if your reading was anything to go by.

Setting the hardcover aside on the armrest of the cruelly comfortable chair you'd been taking up, you'd made your way over. There wasn't any crazy height difference between the two of you, it wasn't as though you absolutely towered over him- no no, but there was enough of a gap where you could reach the things he couldn't with juust an annoyingly simple amount of ease.

"You know, you really should invest in heels, Hun. That way you wouldn't have to make your poor, dear partner do all the heavy work," you'd sighed in faux exhaustion, hand feeling around for a glass surface blindly.

"Maybe I will," he'd blankly returned, just as the tips of your fingers found the mug hiding near the back of the cabinet.

"You should. You'd look good. Maybe then you wouldn't have to ask me to lean down for a kiss," you'd teased, voice sickeningly sweet as you pulled away to place the cup on the counter, making way for him to work his magic.

He'd just kept his head held high, ever-present smile pulled just a touch wider in smug confidence, plan already forming in his mind.

"Maybe."



.

..

...



For all his confidence and sureness in his plot, he had failed to entirely realize this wasn't as cut and dry as asking for a favor and getting a 1-up over you. For all his boldness, he hadn't concerned the outcome of you hiding a snicker behind your hand as his own was stuck to the wall to keep himself up, ironically unconfident in his legs doing that.

"It's not funny, you know."

"You sure? I think it's just a little funny."

He frowned at that.

"C'mon, just a tad?"

With a heaved sigh, he attempted to straighten himself up, immediately regretting it when he started to stumble all over again. He swung too far back only to go careening forward in the process of rebalancing and to the floor- that is, if it hadn't been for gentle, firm hands catching him and pulling him back up instead. His own hands instinctively found your arms, scrambing to clutch onto you for support now that the wall was ways away. You were too busy looking down to make sure he was stood upright to notice the shift in his stare, still everfocused on taking you in.

Eventually, once you were sure he wouldn't lose balance and send you both to the hardwood floor, you looked back up to meet his gaze. Before you could make any comment on the wide-eyed, almost curious look he'd fixed you with he made his own.

"You look different from here."

There wasn't any real postive or negative meaning in his words, it was just an observation. Granted, from his sudden stillness you could surmise that it wasn't a change he disliked. You could feel his hands move from their place just below your shoulder to wrap his arms around your neck. Apparently, his discovery gave him enough confidence to lean back just enough to get a better look at you. Partly to stabalize him and partly out of your own, bubbling up affections, you wrapped your own arms around his waist.

"Yeah?"

He nodded, smile growing a tad wider, "Yes."

Unable to stay still, he shifted forward again to move one hand just above your shoulder while the other cupped the side of your face, "Do you remember that thing you said when you brought this up?"

"I said many things," you hummed.

Ignoring your weak, smart comment he leaned ever closer. You really only now processed the sudden change in your height difference, having to tilt your head up just a bit further to keep your eyes on him. You had to hope the lighting from his perspective covered up any redness in your face. Granted, the little twitch at the corner of his lips let you know he most assuredly felt the rising warmth of your face in his hand.

"I think you were right."

With one last little grin and half-lived, quiet chuckle on your part, he leaned in to place a kiss on your forehead.

[mazzystar24]

idk how tim is keeping her around… like its so clear the fandom hates her and wants her gone- just read the comments on the stills. i understand that her contract probably requires her to be in a certain number of episodes, but tim has really fucked with her storyline this season and made her a bigger character than she ever needed to be and i genuinely don’t understand his choice to do so… if it were to somehow play into eddie’s sexuality, there are a myriad of other ways that could be introduced without givinf a transphobe screentime and along with some of tim’s other choices this season really makes me doubt if he knows what he’s doing at times…. i was so excited for him to come back as showrunner because i thought yk maybe they would stop dragging their feet on buddie but every day it feels more and more like baiting and that we’re simultaneously closer yet further away than we’ve ever been and it’s making me not trust time anymore. and with the jlh live making the joke about buddie not happening it’s making it so hard to remain optimistic… like i will forever be a buddie shipper first and foremost, but i also know how network tv shows use shit like this to their advantage when it comes to baiting and pulling in audiences to watch- it’s been done over and over and over and as much as i want to believe tim wouldn’t do that to us, it’s getting harder and harder to trust him every day. i’ve never considered folding in a series i’ve so vehemently loved before but this season has really messed with my head and i don’t know if i can continue putting myself through the torture if there won’t be any payoff.

Hi anon! Totally meant to reply to this before the episode so obviously my answer is a bit different (but not overtly so)

This episode confirmed Marisol is on her way out so small victories of the transphobe getting kicked to the curb

Totally understand where you’re coming from with being disheartened and like obviously look out for yourself first and foremost but if you’re looking for reassurance I think that like

1. Jlh will only have limited knowledge like Devon was saying even her, edy and Ryan were trying to get info from eachother on who’s staying and stuff and also jlh did clarify it’s a joke and also if buddie were going to have some confirmation this season they would be telling all the actors to keep it hush hush and throw people off guessing it

2. It’s true tv networks do like using that stuff to promote shows but also abc very much seems to recognise that fans make or break a show that’s why you see a lot of shows on it like greys or the rookie do tend to keep an eye on fan reactions and respond accordingly and by that logic if the tv network is aware enough of the fact they can promote a show by even hinting at buddie undertones then they know that full canon would do favours for their ratings, and Tim did say one of the main obstacles to bi buck canon was the network back when they were on fox

3. Things are constantly in progress and we still have s8 so there is never cause to be like there is no hope, like if they didn’t want buddie canon on the table they would have said so but they constantly establish that it’s on the table and if the story progresses that way then they’d all be on board

I gotta pulls a Serena and say I gotta go but thanks anon for the ask and hope it’s somehow reassuring

Remember bestie delulu is the solulu🥰❤️🫶🤡🤩✨

(yes I had to make a joke somewhere cos I’m extremely awkward)

[alexiswritingstuff]

(THIS IS A REPOST BECAUSE THE LAST VERSION GOT MESSED UP, SORRY FOR ANY CREATED EXCITEMENT!!)

~

Now, I know I’ve said this for many things, but I genuinely got carried away with this that when I had the idea for the plot... I kinda forgot that the anon had requested something cute with fluff, so... I hope the ending does it justice.

Either way, thank you for sending this in. I hope you like it!

Removal of the Mask.

Pairing: Gustavo Fring x gn! reader.

Other appearances: Mike Ehrmantraut, though only mentioned.

Request: I had an idea for another Gus fic! I just want him to finally break , mask off and just actually let himself show emotion and be upset with the reader comforting him or something? I just need cute and fluffy stuff with him in my life. Poor dude just needs a shoulder to cry on

Content: angst with comfort and fluff.

Warnings: fighting, gunshot, injuries, descriptions of a hospital.

Be aware of spelling errors and mistakes! I do go read through my fics before posting them, but I always managed to miss some!

A/N: I don’t know if it’s just the way I perceive Gustavo, but I genuinely can’t think of him just... crying. You know, like, maybe with tears in his eyes, but the only way I was able to imagine it was like if something close to a major trauma happened. So, I guess that’s what influenced my idea for this.  

Also this fic may be really long, so buckle up, hydrated yourself and grab a snack.

More Gustavo fics.

Taglist-

@sukunamybeloved - @viviennemuerte - @miwagila - @marksassybanana​

The sun was high in the sky. Everything beneath felt the presence, including you as beads of sweat trailed down wherever it could on your body.

You were leant against the side of your car, though not very still in the unbearable heat. “Where the hell is this guy?”

The problem with doing these deals, exchanges, or something along those lines was that they had to be done in unknown places. Areas where there weren’t other people around who could possibly witness something they shouldn’t.

That usually meant abandoned properties, or having to travel miles into the vast desert.

And for this particular meet-up.

It was both.

You sniffed, a rising sense of irritation building as you twisted your wrist to lay eyes on the watch strapped to it. Five minutes late. No one in this business risked being five minutes late, especially if it could end up being more.

No one had been told that it was going to be you instead of Gustavo that they were going to be meeting with today either, so in theory, these people were laying back on him. Making him seem like a fool with the need to wait alone in the desert.

But it was you.

And you were not the slightest bit happy.

Just as your arm lowered, hand angrily smacking back to the car door behind you, there was a revving sound that hummed across the landscape. And upon looking up, your eyes found a moving cloud of dust just over one of the minor hills.

“Ballsy.”

You pushed yourself off of your car, adopting a straightened stance the way a bodyguard would.

Despite wanting to present yourself like Gustavo would- arms tight by the sides, chin raised, head basically unmoving unless needing to provide a form of intimidation- when the car had finally rolled into the lot, your arms were just crossed over your chest.

It may have made you like an angry toddler, but there was nothing more unnerving than the ultimate death stare you shot the driver as he exited the vehicle which had finally stilled.

“You’re not Gustavo.”

That was the first thing he said. 

After turning up late, and looking like he didn’t even bother to dress himself accordingly... That was it? He even had this narrowed gaze when he began to take a few steps in your direction.

“I’m going to give you the benefit of the doubt and assume that it was the traffic that made you late... Am I right?” You hadn’t moved an inch, just simply watched the man as he ultimately decided to settle on keeping a good distance.

His hands lowered to his hips while his eyes flickered to the horizon, his head mildly nodding as if he couldn’t figure out what to say. But it looked more like he didn’t care.

“Okay,” you began, finally letting your arms fall to your sides, “Let’s not waste anymore time then.”

“Do you have them?”

The mans attention snapped back to you after he rocked on his heels for a moment, his stance unchanging much like his gaze, “It was supposed to be Mr. Fring that I met with.” There was a slight southern drawl to his words, a sound that slowly became vicious the more he spoke, “Where is he?”

Your voice stayed the same despite the irritation that began to take back its place, “I believe we’re old enough to carry out an exchange ourselves, don’t you think?”

There was a good few seconds of strong eye contact. One that closely resembled the kind of stand off you would see in old western movies.

But eventually, his head lowered when you held no reaction to his persistence, even stilled it there when he spat out a glob of spit onto the sandy dirt below.

And then he turned, walking back to the car with a flurry of emotions that visibly affected the way his legs moved.

Your expression was stern as you watched him regardless of the fact that he couldn’t see it, a weird feeling now residing in your chest from the previous actions. I mean, it was like a want. An insistence of Gustavo’s whereabouts.

Gustavo was a businessman. He was the owner of something so large that he couldn’t possibly be everywhere at once, or be the one to do things all the time, so it was more common for other people, like you or Victor, even Mike, to be the ones at exchanges. Especially if the outcome wasn’t something that heavily impacted the business.

Hell, you were just trying to collect new versions of equipment that had been busted from too much usage, this whole interaction had been strange from the get-go.

He had been late, wanted to speak to no one other than Gustavo, despite the fact that the needed task was just handing over the machines, so that you could give him the money in return.

Even with the amount of thoughts that were running through your mind, in the next moment, it seemed that by the time your attention had refocused the realisation of a problem came a bit too late.

The man, who you still didn’t know the name of, had arrived at the side of his car. But instead of moving to the back, where you were assuming was the equipment covered by that tarp, he had stilled at the window of the passenger seat.

You couldn’t exactly pull a machine through a window now could you?

Just as you had retrieved your gun from your belt, and was so close to properly gripping it in your hand, a shot rang through the vast area.

It snagged the weapon, narrowly missing your fingers in the process, and you immediately retracted your hand, watching in mild shock as it fell to the sand below.

Damnit. He’s trained.

Unlike what the rest of your body wanted to do in that moment, your legs sprang into action like your life depended on it. Because it in fact did this time.

You swerved, dodged and weaved as bullets began to pang off of walls and the empty shells of cars that were just left, clouds of dust beginning to gather in the air the further you went.

Situations like this weren’t exactly unusual. Contact with other business went sideways more than anyone would really like to admit, hence the need to carry weapons at all times.

The only difference now was that you were the direct target.

You rounded the corner of the closest part of the abandoned building, heart pounding in your chest, your ears, and chorusing with the bullets that continued to fire despite not even being in view anymore.

Your feet skidded to a stop, your eyes frantically searching through the area for some kind of hiding spot or at least something that would give you time to make a plan.

But just as you made a decision, that would’ve at least lead you to your next option if it went sideways, a shot echoed through the surrounding walls.

A sound uncontrollably escaped your throat. Your body jolted, knees eager to bend as you staggered forwards, a sense of determination bubbling in your system more than it ever had.

However, before you could have even prepared, something collided with the middle of your back with full intent. 

It sent you tumbling forward. Your knees were the first to connect with the ground below until your hands followed, the sand beginning to roast the pads of your fingers.

But of course, due to the combination of your lack of ability to comprehend the situation, and an increasing pain somewhere in your side, you couldn’t keep yourself stabilised for long.

You fell on your stomach, the exhaustion from the heat finally creeping in the last moment that it needed to.

“Listen,” you croaked out after a cough, still trying to pull yourself towards your chosen hiding spot despite the inability to basically move, “You want-- You want Gustavo, right? Why not… You can’t get to him if you kill-- kill me.”

There was no point in bargaining. You knew that. You knew that this was pre-planned, and that it in fact was meant for Gus.

But they could easily settle on the next best thing if the intent was to impact him.

And you were right.

Each of your legs were grasped in either of his hands within the next second, and before you could grab the sand beneath you, even if your fingers would’ve immediately sunk through, he began pulling you towards him.

In the blink of an eye, your body got flipped over, your spine now slamming into the sand. An indescribable pain seared through your side, and despite the urge to arch your back as if it would get you away from the feeling, your eyes went wide. And you swung, arm aimed at the first body part that was close enough.

His gun fell to the side.

There was a yell of annoyance that bellowed from the man above, and when you tried to move a fist decided to meet with your face in a way that had your ears purely ringing.

It was almost like your brain was forgetting basic functions. You could barely remember how to move your eyes, or even breathe, for a terrifying few seconds.

You had previously thrashed in a way that made the man falter, almost losing his balance. It wasn’t until he was trying to push himself to stand that something managed to form in your head.

Your legs trapped his own despite their weakness and while the man battled with a pair of limbs, cursing in ways that you couldn’t imagine, your hand subtly moved to the side, gliding across the surface of the sand.

Until they met with metal.

The vision through your eyes was blurry from the previous attacks and now from the direction off the sun that beamed right on you. But somehow you still managed to find your aim.

The man twisted back round when he heard that familiar click and his eyes widened as much as they physically could, “No--”

The shot echoed more times that you could count, bouncing off of every possible surface, through the building and on the walls like a game of ping pong.

And then something slumped, falling to the side almost in slow motion until it collided with the ground.

You got him.

All at once the adrenaline rush slowed and the pain in your face, with a sort of burning sensation somewhere else in your upper body, intensified so much that you could barely move.

A shaky whine pushed through your lips as you began to pat around your torso, trying to find the large source of pain.

And then you got to your left side.

It seems that he got you first.

“Shit.” you seethed through gritted teeth and lowered your increasingly weak arm back down to let your hand gain access to a pocket. Your fingers dug through the fabric compartment, grabbed at a device before, unsteadily, pulling it out.

There was no way that you would be able to sit up so you did your best to lift the phone in front of your face, but even when it was flipped open, your vision shook with your heaving chest.

It felt like years had passed by the time you had managed to push a certain order of buttons in, and as soon as it began to ring, you let it drop, your arm smacking into the ground next to your side.

Finally, there was an answer.

The phone hadn’t landed that far away from your head, but it was enough so that when a voice crackled through the speaker, you couldn’t hear it over the sound of your heartbeat and the ragged breaths that rasped from your throat.

You coughed, “Hey, Mike. You, uh… You’re not busy, right?” Your voice was strained despite how hard you were trying to play off your injuries, but when you put pressure on the most important wound to limit the blood loss. It was a little hard to maintain.

“It’s not been a very nice tea party.”

~

The surrounding room would’ve been quiet if it wasn’t for the monotonous beeps from machines that sounded more hypnotic as time went on.

The lighting was dull, barely reflecting off of the walls, with no help from the world outside as by now it had apparently grown dark. Though, due to the ache that consumed almost every part of your head, it made you very grateful.

Your gaze was set on the window on the other side of the room, one used so that doctors could see their patients at any given time if they weren’t able to hear them first.

Gustavo had arrived, stood in the brighter hallway and talking to a doctor you were still getting use to interacting with yourself.

The expression on his face was a mixture of the one he held when interacting with the general public and this intensity that would be difficult for other people to notice upon first glance.

But not you.

After almost every sentence spoken by the doctor, the man had sent a glance your way. A look that could almost make you feel exactly how he did, regardless of the fact that it wasn’t fully readable.

And before there was even an attempt to try, you found yourself breaking the eye contact, sinking the back of your head further into your pillow as it seemed that your mind only now was capturing onto the fact that you were indeed awake.

From what you could hear from the muffled conversation going on outside, and what you had been previous told, the bullet had luckily missed major arteries or organs that would’ve cost everything if hit.

But even so, especially now that it had been removed, that didn’t mean it wasn’t still going to hurt like hell.

You had been issued pain medication at a time that couldn’t be remembered off the bat, but it seemed that it hadn’t met the 30 minute mark yet. Meaning that it wasn’t properly in your system.

By the time your eyes focused back through the window, Gustavo had a smile stiffly pressed onto his lips. The two of them were shaking hands, sharing words that you couldn’t quite catch, and then the doctor turned, resuming the work they were previously doing before he had arrived.

In that moment, the emotion held on Gustavo's face had disappeared by the next time your heavy eyelids had allowed themselves to blink. It was almost like he was in a trance for a good second, his eyes unfocused as they stared off down the hallway.

And then he snapped back.

This time when he faced the room, his attention never went to you. He simply opened the door, walked through and then closed it behind himself. A movement that engulfed the surrounding area in a quietness that even the machines couldn’t help.

He stood closer to the back wall than the edge of your bed. His body was still, stance almost like a soldier, as his gaze remained aimed at whatever was in front of him. You really wished you could read minds.

“Have the doctors updated you on your condition?”

Despite the small room, there was a lack of fullness to his voice. Like it was from somewhere in the distance even though he was right there.

“Yeah,” The grogginess from waking up not that long ago was still fresh in your system even with the activeness of your mind, so when you attempted to shuffle yourself to get a better view of Gustavo you had barely even moved. “Though I could’ve make an educated guess anyway.”

His response was a mere hum, still remaining in the same position as before. It was a thing that made your eyebrows twitch, unsure if he had even meant to make that sound in the first place.

“I would’ve had you put in a more private place, but... I was was told there wasn’t enough time.” That was when he moved for the first time since entering the room. His head lowered, eyes now cast down to his shoes like they were the most interesting thing in the room. “I know you don’t like hospitals.”

Your gaze moved upwards as you turned your head towards the ceiling, a huff of air passing through your lips, “Well, I already had the surgery... Just need to be patient now.”

“I wish there were better channels on these TVs though,” you then added, attempting to break the tension surrounding every corner in the room, but when you moved your head again, you found Gustavo starting to walk.

His steps were almost silent despite what his shoes were made of. He moved slow, precise even if his attention wasn’t on the floor anymore.

And soon Gustavo had arrived at the window that looked out onto the world below. You had no idea what floor you were on but it was most likely about halfway as the sound of cars could still be heard, though a bit muffled.

Somehow the more time he spent facing away from you, the more a nervousness began to ignite within your chest.

The way he was acting was something you had only seen when he was disappointed. Upset about how a situation had gone enough so that he needed time to compose himself before speaking.

So, even if most of your body couldn’t be bothered to move, you found a way to fidget.

You stared at the wall on the other side of your bed. A multitude of fresh thoughts and worries swarming your mind in a way that was almost suffocating, until they couldn’t be contained anymore.

You cleared your throat, finally finding your voice despite the utter dread of doing so. “I’m sorry.”

The sound of the heart monitor could literally be heard speeding up as your words fully settled through the air.

“Pardon?”

Your eyes may have still been aimed at the wall, but from the corner, you could see Gustavo twist away from the window. An action that didn’t at all help your nerves.

The next time you took a breath, you had almost gulped, “I realised what had been planned too late.”

“If that had happened anywhere else, I could’ve ruined the business... Lost progress.”

It was only when a new worry, the realisation of another action that had the possibility of many consequences, that you found the ability to actually look at Gustavo, “You got the machines, right?”

His brows were furrowed enough that the skin surrounding them was intensely crinkled, his eyes narrowed in a disbelief that you had never seen him display.

“You have nothing to be sorry for, Y/n.” was all he managed for a moment, his voice going back to that lack of fullness that in turn had your eyebrows furrowing. “Did they tell you what happened? Everything?”

“You were injured during a job I set for you.” His eyes were wider now, the once clouded look within them forming into a sense of clarity though the disbelief still remained.

“And I could’ve ruined everything.” The emotions each of you felt were clashing, the brain working in the wonderous ways it always did as you both had very different viewpoints of the situation. The hard part was getting the other to understand why.

“There is a lot more important things than machines, Y/n.” Gustavo pointed out and took a few steps forward so that he was further from the window.

There was a sense of annoyance now travelling through your tired system, the irritation built up over the entire day officially starting to spark, “Which is exactly why I am trying to apologise.”

“For what? Not knowing that you were going be attacked?”

You shook your head, breaking the intense eye contact as your gaze went back to the ceiling.

Arguing was the last thing that you wanted to do right now. You were tired, weak, hungry, and now had an anger that was eager to erupt.

Two people at fault but both only thinking that one is.

After a few moments of being absorbed by those monotonous beeps again, a deep sigh could be heard. Even though you couldn’t see him anymore, it was clear that he had finally allowed his shoulders to lower. Deflate. “You got hurt.”

“Well, I think I know that, Gus.” you blurted out as your mouth seemed to be faster than your brain. Something that you immediately regretted. “Look...” You raised your head again, your hands subconsciously gliding to where your bandages grasped to your skin, “What happened... Happened.”

“It’s over... Okay-- It doesn’t matter anymore.”

It was a sentence meant to ease the situation. Words formed in a eagerness to get this whole thing over and done with, because you were quite frankly over it yourself, wanting nothing more than to fall into an incredibly deep sleep.

But all it did was make the lines of Gustavo’s face more prominent. The look across it formed into an expression that almost mimicked offense. “Doesn’t... Doesn’t matter-- Listen to yourself.”

“Why aren’t you taking this situation more seriously?”

“Well, did you get what you were after?” you questioned, trying to find at least some form of middle ground that you could then use to clear this whole thing up.

Gustavo scoffed, “I can’t believe you.” He turned himself around again, adopting the same stance from before as he stared through the window.

Your eyebrows were furrowed as much as they possibly could at this point, “Why? This isn’t the first time that something like this has happened, Gus-- Hell, it will happen again.”

“No.”

“Yes.”

“It can’t.”

“What do you-- What do you mean it can’t, Gustavo?” you huffed out, the sound almost becoming gargled as you began to push yourself to sit up. But you were determined to ignore the pain pulsing in your side. A deep breath shook through your lips when you got upright.

You carefully began to shuffle yourself backwards, trying to lean more comfortably against the bed, and only made an attempt to speak when you had fully decided your positioning, “The more we progress, the more likely stuff like this is going to take place. You of all people should know that--”

“You almost died!”

It felt like time had stopped for a good minute.

The sound had rung longer than the sentence itself, but you couldn’t tell if it was just the way your mind attempted to process it, or if it was really that loud.

Gustavo had faced you once again, only this time there was this active rage that covered almost every visible inch of him in a way that heavily contrasted the usual stoicism.

It was barely seen, but it looked like his shoulders lowered and raised with every breath. Like he was heaving. Heaving with disbelief, anger... and fear?

“You almost... You.” he had attempted to repeat, but there was this lack of control. An inability to get himself together like he always managed to do any other day.

He took in a deep breath, one that shook more than yours had, and practically forced himself to stand straight, “That attack was meant for me.”

“Because I got... interrupted, I wasn’t there... and then you became the target.” He was trying to gather himself. Trying to make himself look how he usually did by straightening his spine, raising his chin and adopting an expression devoid of any emotion.

But despite trying to adjust the mask.

It was starting to crack.

“Gustavo.”

“I should have gone.” His voice was barely above a whisper now.

To the naked eye he was ridged, but there was this shakiness that could be seen the longer your eyes stayed on him, “I should be the one in that bed... not you.”

“You could’ve...”

One half of his nose slightly crinkled after a moment, in turn raising the left side of his top lip, and he visibly swallowed like the words he was going to speak had a horrid taste.

And then you spotted it.

It was difficult to properly see Gustavo’s eyes through the glasses as light sources reflected onto the lenses almost everywhere he looked, and at first you thought it was in fact just some reflected light.

But it would disappear when he blinked.

“Gustavo.” you spoke after a moment, practically forgetting what you sounded like at this point, and it seemed to snap the man out of his thoughts. “Close the blinds.”

At first he just furrowed his eyebrows. His dazed eyes finally moved from where they had zoned in to meet your own with a sudden confusion. And then they followed the finger pointed towards the window for the doctors.

The abrupt change in atmosphere had him just standing there for a moment, but then due to the crowdedness of his mind, it seemed that it just went on autopilot. He walked through the room, same pace and quietness as before, until he arrived at yet another window.

He cleared his throat, picked the left blind cord to take between two of his fingers and then pulled at it, taking one final look at the hallways outside before they were officially closed.

Now, the lighting of the room was increasingly lowered. You still had a slight source from the sky, but time had done what it did best. It barely brought anything to help maintain the light.

But that was the least of your concerns.

The moment those blinds had reached the ledge of the window, Gustavo's hands pressed onto either side of the surface, and he leant his weight into it in a way that seemed to take it off of his shoulders as they visibly slacked.

It was a movement that had you just staring for a good few seconds.

This was not the Gustavo that you knew. This man before you was not in control of his expressions, the way that he spoke, the way he stood. This was not a man who rose above and administered fear into anyone even if that wasn’t his intent.

This was just a man.

Just Gus.

You, very stiffly, began to try and shuffle yourself sideway across the bed. You didn’t care about the pain that pulsed through your torso, or how it felt like your arms were going to either bend or snap. You kept moving, and only stopped when it was clear to do so.

Pins and needles began to spread through your hand as you patted it down in the space you had created, turning your head more in his direction as you expected him to respond.

But he didn’t.

You stifled a sigh, “Come here, Gustavo.”

He needed a proper command. A verbal set of words that allowed him to comply to the urge you placed in his head. So, after trying to swallow the feelings that were appearing once again, he turned around.

Though this time when he fully faced you, instead of pausing like he needed to convince himself to actually walk, he moved the second his eyes lay on you.

His pace was slow like before, each step getting heavier than the previous one.

He understood.

He understood why you had been acting the way you did, wanted nothing more than to change the subject, and now why you had asked him to close the blinds.

It was to stop the outside from seeing in. Not let any other person bear witness to a moment just for the two of you.

Gustavo lowered himself to sit on the bed, his eyes not daring to leave your own in a way that properly allowed you to see behind the lenses of those glasses.

There was a line of water just peaking over the lower lid. His blinks may have subsided most of it, but it would always come back with the same amount. Sometimes even more.

“I shouldn’t have let you do the job alone.” Gustavo insisted, but it had you shake your head within seconds. “Hey,”

You took one of his hands between yours, trying to shift just a tad bit closer to him even if it hurt, “Gustavo, you need to understand that even if there was another person there, the same thing would’ve happened-- Another person would’ve been hurt instead of just me.”

“Someone would still get shot.”

That was when the eye contact had been broken.

He knew you were right. He knew that even if he had found out what had happened sooner, he wouldn’t have gotten there fast enough to do anything about it.

But there was a vast difference between understanding something and accepting it.

The expression on his face was so unusual to see, more so because it genuinely conveyed his feelings. You could see it in his eyes, the way his lips were starting to press together. Utter guilt despite the continuous insistence that it wasn’t his fault.

The action of removing your hands from his had him out of his thoughts again, though it wasn’t until he blinked that he felt where they had gone.

Each of your palms were placed on either side of his face, the centre firm against his set jaw.

The thumbs of your hands resided above the rest of your fingers, lightly gliding across the textured skin of Gustavo’s cheeks in a way that had him instinctively closing his eyes.

The weight of his head in your hold grew and it looked as if the tension in his muscled finally let him relax, even if it was just for a moment. You wanted him to stay like that forever.

“I’m glad you weren’t there, Gustavo.”

And just like that, the sentence had practically undone the moment of peace. But even when he went to lean back, he made sure that it was a distance that would keep your hands on his face.

The edges of his eyebrows were crinkled again, a mixture of concern and confusion purely visible, “How?”

The way he asked had a smile begging to curl at your lips. Though, due to the muscles of your face being too tired at this point and the fact that this definitely wasn’t the time to do so, you ignored it. “If it was you that got attacked instead of me, they wouldn’t have stopped until there was nothing left.”

Your grasp on his face became a tad more firm. Your eyes began to travel, thinking about the fact that you had never seen him so close for this amount of time before. “A shot in the side means nothing to me.”

“Y/n, how can you possibly say that?” The concern spread further than it had done before, now beginning to form into that same disbelief like it had earlier.

You slightly lowered your chin after a minute, making sure that your eyeline was directly connected to his. And then you just shrugged, a wave of emotions flooding your system at a sudden sense of safety that you had yearned to feel all day, “Because,”

“I would rather die, knowing that you were somewhere safe... alive. Than breathe in a world where you aren’t doing the same.”

It felt like it was going to be another one of those moments. The two of you just going to stare into each others eyes, equally lost. No words available that could even scratch the surface of what either of you felt.

Though it seemed that Gustavo’s ability to maintain a calm exterior faltered. He began to crumble.

His his eyebrows pinched together suddenly, his bottom lip slowly pushing upwards until it shook, and then he lowered his head out of your grasp, a wavering breath huffing out of his mouth.

He tried to speak. Tried to express something that ultimately would be left unknown as he just gave up. Understanding that it wouldn’t be able to come out the way that he wanted it to.

So, he just... sort of slumped. His head dipped a little more, his hand reaching up to grab the glasses that were close to falling.

He was overtaken. Emotions active more than he had let it in so long. Gustavo tried to wipe them away, tried to rid his eyes of the water that practically felt like a river pushing to flood.

But the dam had already been broken.

He just sat there, hands now pressed to face in an attempt to block the tears from going anywhere, even if they had already began to trail between his fingers.

You took the glasses that were almost crumpled in his grasp before folding the legs, and then slowly placed them on the bedside table while trying to ignore the pain that pulsed in your side from the stretch.

You subtly gritted your teeth, willing to forget about any feeling that was trying to present itself as you wanted to focus on Gustavo. You needed to.

So, you reached out, waiting for your hand to cup the back of his head before slowly beginning to guide it forward in a way that ultimately made the rest of his body follow.

And soon, he was laid across your chest, careful to avoid your injury.

The side of his head had managed to make his ear press right over where your heart was. Something that seemed to trigger Gustavo the moment he registered both the feeling and the sound.

Because, for the first time since he had entered the room or laid eyes on you through the window that had now been closed. He had actual confirmation that wasn’t just words from a doctor.

You were not some sick hallucination that was playing his mind, or a lie that he was trying to convince himself of in an attempt to avoid a painful truth and make him feel better. No. You were real.

You were alive.

The next breath that Gustavo took was cut quite abruptly like another had just pushed itself out. It was a sound that caught you off guard, one that you didn’t initially know how to respond to as you thought you were just hearing things.

But then it happened again... and then again. A sound that almost made it seem like he had forgotten how to breathe.

And then you heard what it was trying to cover, something else breaking through the harsh huffs of air.

He was crying.

Properly crying.

Gustavo removed one of the hands from his face and reached it under your arm so that he could grab the back of your shoulder, his fingers grasping onto the fabric the moment they made contact.

It had your arms wrapping around his body within seconds, especially when it had begun to rack with almost guttural like sounds.

His head was fully pressed into your chest now, each of his hands holding onto an arm or a shoulder tightly with such desperation as if you were going to disappear if he let go.

So, you didn’t dare move. You just held him there, unable to escape another pain as you had to simply lay in that bed, holding something that was releasing such raw cries.

Gustavo couldn’t even recognise the sounds himself. The way his body responded, the tears falling freely from his eyes, the harshness that the sobs were rushing out of his lungs. It was unfamiliar. A foreign feeling that swirled through everything else.

Truthfully, he could remember the last time he cried in such a way. He could remember when his feelings were shoved out of him regardless of his wants.

But he couldn’t think of any time when he had allowed himself to do it on his own.

Until now.

~~~

The next few days were filled with pretty much the same routine.

Your injuries would get checked, treated again if the doctors saw fit, and you had to do everything in your power to keep yourself entertained as the channels still weren’t giving you much.

And then, when it would get dark, Gustavo appeared.

He would bring this homemade soup almost every night that had your stomach growling before he had even arrived. It was also a decent sized cup, meaning that if you didn’t finish it, the hospital could store it and reheat it for lunch the next day.

Maybe after a while, others would think that having soup for more than a week would get old at some point... But no. In fact there was different ingredients used in every batch. The change could be miniscule but it was still effective.

The rest of the routine got old fast though. The days started merging, and it soon made you become unsure of when the next started or ended, as it seemed like you had forgotten how to sleep at normal times due to your exhausted system.

But then the time finally came.

The discharge from hospital.

Obviously there was still a whole lot of resting, healing and overall taking everything slow coming your way, which was a hundred percent going to prove to be a challenge. However, with the way that Gustavo appeared right by your side, even if it was just a facial expression that proved you were having difficulty, it gave you enough assurance. Comfort.

There was no word to accurately express your feelings the moment the car had pulled to a stop in the driveway. Your driveway.

What you saw out the window wasn’t a picture you had tried to think up multiple times in your head. It was just right in front of you. A house that seemed larger than you had remembered.

It almost startled you when the car door suddenly got pulled open, but after a blink you registered his figure, spotted the hands that were out and ready to aid you.

The process of shimmying your way off of the car seat was a bit of a hassle, however, your legs eventually hung out of the car, feet finally meeting with solid ground once again.

Soon, you had actually arrived inside the house. 

Gustavo was to your right, stood carefully, in a way that would completely cross out any possibility of further injuring the other side of your body, as he guided you through those familiar halls which almost gave you a feeling of nostalgia. Even if it wasn’t that long ago that you walked within them.

A new wave of tiredness hit you after about a step into the living room you had yearned to see. 

Everything looked the same, furniture and even the objects of décor still placed so intricately as if the room hadn’t been lived in or touched.

It smelled the same too.

“Were you cooking this morning?” you questioned, voice a bit more groggy than before, as a sort of smoky scent presented itself to your nostrils. Gustavo hummed, carefully pulling at your shoulder to direct you around the rectangular coffee table.

“You know I can walk by myself, right?” you pointed out, trying to turn your head to get a look at his face but he had moved behind you when the two of you got between the edge of the table and an armchair at the same time.

“Of course.” was all Gustavo said, still holding onto you regardless. And finally, you had reached the couch of your dreams.

Even though you had been laying around all day every day for weeks on end, the relief that filled your system over not having to walk anymore almost had your knees buckling.

“Okay,” Gustavo spoke just above a whisper, lightly turning you so that you faced the TV, “Slowly.”

A deep breath sifted in and out of your lungs. Your grip on his arm tightened and after looking in his eyes for a good few seconds, you began to lower yourself in the speed he insisted on. “There you go.”

“You’re doing just fine.”

Your nose was scrunched, along with your eyes, the further you bent as the movement slightly began to fold more and more of your body. You lost count of how many times you tried to stifle a hiss from the sharp pains that kept coming.

But even when officially sat down on the soft couch, the discomfort unfortunately remained.

You slowly leaned backwards, allowing your injured side to stretch out in a way that was fully comfortable, until your back pressed into the pillows. There was a sigh of relief that huffed out of your mouth all at once and it had the tiniest smile curling at Gustavo’s lips.

“Better?” he questioned and despite your urge to close your eyes, you just looked at him. “Better. Thank you,” you confirmed, reaching out to grab one of his hands.

But before your own could meet his, it had suddenly lowered with the rest of his body. Your eyebrows furrowed as you watched him get onto his knees, even pushing the coffee table away so that he had more space.

And then his hands landed on your shoes, “Oh, Gustavo, you don’t--”

“Relax.”

He lifted one foot at a time, placing the bottom of your shoe on his thigh so that he could properly attack the laces. And soon, both pairs were off of your feet, now held in a singular hand.

“You didn’t have to do that.” Your voice was more hushed this time, timid, as you looked down at the man who now was just looking right back at you. And then he smiled. Such a simple, but full, smile that fit his face perfectly.

Gustavo then pressed his free hand onto the floor, moved himself back a little, and then let out a slight grunt as pushed himself up to his feet.

When he had done so you had thought he was just go, leave to bring the shoes to the area you usually kept them, so you had started to shuffle your self further into the couch.

But the next thing you knew, one of your hands was brough in a gentle grasp. The step that Gustavo had taken was to get closer to the couch, and you.

He sort of hunched forward after a moment, bringing your intertwined hands his way. And then, when it was at a perfect distance, he turned them until the back of your palm faced him.

He brought his lips to your warm skin, the soft but mildly jagged skin pressing down for a good few seconds as the breath through his nostrils slightly tickled you. And then he lifted his head a little.

Gustavo met your eyes with such a wide smile that it had almost bared his teeth.

“I did.”

And after a quick squeeze to your hand, that was that. He let go.

Gustavo adjusted the grip he had on the shoes in his other hand and simply turned, retracing his steps around the coffee table before disappearing into the hallway.

Your hand was still hung in the air. Stuck same position it had been when with Gustavo’s... and then you left it fall to your chest, landing right on top of your heart that was beating so fast that you could immediately feel it.

The smile on your face was one that felt impossibly to get off.

There was a long journey still to go, and a lot of pain to follow, but there was almost no worry when you thought about it. Because, like you had convinced to convince Gustavo of earlier, you made it.

You made it back home.